Hey, everyone. "Moriarty" here with some Rumblings From The Lab.
Where do I begin to discuss Rod Lurie's new film THE CONTENDER, starring Joan Allen, Gary Oldman, Jeff Bridges, Sam Elliott, and Christian Slater? Do I start with what's right? Do I start with what's wrong? Or do I take the uncomfortable leap and discuss the film's effect on me personally?
Hmmm... let's start safe. Let's start with the synopsis. What is THE CONTENDER about? You've probably seen the poster with the provocative line "Sometimes you can assassinate a leader without firing a shot." It's a classy piece of design. It's stark, with a black and white panel photo of Joan Allen's eyes. Or maybe you've seen the omnipresent TV spots and theatrical trailers, all of which seem to promise a heated movie along the lines of an ALL THE PRESIDENT'S MEN or even THE GODFATHER, an exploration of power and what it can do to people, either in the pursuit of it or the exercise of it. That cast was certainly promising, and so was the fact that Dreamworks picked the film up. It was originally shot as an indie, and Dreamworks threw their weight behind it. I didn't see Rod Lurie's first film, DETERRENCE, but I'm well acquainted with his work as a film critic.
Therein lies one of the most basic attractions to the film for me. Anytime someone who writes about film crosses over and actually makes a film, it's fascinating. We've all heard the adage "those who can't do, teach," and the same seems to be assumed about those of us who write about film. I know it's one of the common shots people take at me. The thing is, I don't claim to be the world's foremost expert on film. I am the result of the proliferation of cable and video in the American household. I'm a kid who grew up soaked in media, soaked in movies, overloading on them like some American kids overload on Twinkies. I didn't just absorb as many movies as possible, though; I also absorbed all the writing about movies that I could get my hands on. I went through whole sections at libraries before moving on. And when there's a Francois Truffaut or a Peter Bogdonavich or an Oliver Assayas or an FX Feeney, I'm interested. I root for these guys to be able to put their knowledge, their accumulated experience as a viewer, to the test. After all, that's what brings every director to the medium, right? A belief system about film, a philosophy about the way things are supposed to be. A good director knows the answer to every single question he's asked. He knows without hesitation. I've watched filmmakers, great filmmakers, at work on a set, and I'm always struck by the confidence they possess when they're in a groove. It's remarkable to watch this whole world spin out of the head of one person. I hope I am that person at some point. Until then, all I can do is theorize, watch and react, and embrace the art that others create. Rod Lurie's doing what I hope to do, and for that reason alone, I went into THE CONTENDER hoping for a home run.
Instead, what I got could be called a frustrating double at best. There's moments in THE CONTENDER that are very, very good. These are wonderful actors, and they find some honest ground to share. Lurie's got a good natural visual sense at times, working almost invisibly. There's some strong smart adult dialogue from time to time. On the page, this thing looks like it should work. The opening scene is strong, too. William Petersen, an undervalued gift of an actor whose work in TO LIVE OR DIE IN LA and MANHUNTER should have made him far more famous than it did, plays Jack Hathaway, a Democractic Senator who is giving an interview to a reporter while fishing. There's a car accident on an overhead bridge, and a car plunges over the side right in front of them. Without thinking twice, Hathaway dives in and tries to save a girl who is trapped in the car. They stare at each other, him unable to open the door, as her air slowly runs out. They're separated by a thin pane of glass, but there's nothing he can do. It's a haunting moment, and anyone familiar with Chappaquidick and the terrible shadow it cast over Ted Kennedy's career will shiver at the echo. The reporter turns Hathaway's selfless response into major headlines, and Hathaway finds himself summoned to the White House, where President Jackson Evans (Bridges) is considering choices to replace the Vice-President who died three weeks earlier.
So far, so good. This material is all well-handled. Lurie introduces the cast casually. There's no grand entrances. This is a very outwardly human President, and Bridges plays him with a disarming charm. He's all smiles and quirks until he's pissed off, and then there's real steel underneath that Bridges flashes in a few choice moments. Sam Elliott plays Kermit Newman, the President's closest advisor, and he's always present. He's the one who gets angry so the President doesn't have to. He's also the one who actually delivers the bad news. For example, he tells Hathaway that they're not going to choose him to be Vice-President. He's crushed, but he accepts it. They don't tell him who they're choosing instead, but we learn quickly enough.
Oh, this is painful. I hate doing this. I hate it when I want to like a movie and I don't. The first inkling of trouble is in the oh-so-coy way Lurie introduces their first choice. We hear the name: Senator Hanson. We cut to a couple fooling around, clothes askew, and a phone ringing. The guy answers the phone and stands up. He's got no pants on, but he's still wearing his jacket and his shirt, and she laughs as she notices. He tries to sound serious as he talks to someone on the phone. At first it sounds like he's being asked himself, but then Lurie pulls the old switcheroo and has him hand the phone to his wife. She rolls over and we see it's Joan Allen. I don't mind the switch. Lurie really seems to like cute intros for his characters, something that's a wee bit grating in what purports to be a serious character drama, but it's not a major thing. The sex is. It's a bait and switch of a much larger degree, and it's part of my major problem with the film. Joan Allen's character is introduced having sex. The whole scandal that blows up is about sex. So she could have done it, get it? Lurie lays it on a bit thick from time to time, getting worse as the film goes, and it's touches like these that finally drown the good intentions that are so apparent.
Joan Allen is named as the White House's choice, and a committee to approve her appointment is put together under the supervision of Shelly Runyon. When he first appears, he might just as well have a sign hung around his neck that says "EVIL." He might just as well be named Senator Ima Badguy. He is so troll-like, so ugly on the outside, and so transparently slimy from the first scene he's in to the last that he immediately tips the film's delicate tone from smart to smarmy. He corrupts a good young Congressman named Reginald Webster (Christian Slater) by putting him on the committee and using his young enthusiasm to help destroy Allen's character. He is friends with Hathaway, a point that's made over and over, so he's got a real investment in destroying Allen. On top of all that, she's a Democrat and a woman, and he's a Republican and Satan. You do the math.
Make no mistake. This movie wants to push your buttons politically. It riled up certain members of the crowd at the all-media screening I went to on Friday night. In particular, there's one scene where Allen and Oldman debate abortion in front of the cameras, and Oldman makes a speech that sounds something like, "You're a baby killer because you KILL babies, you BUTCHER who likes to MURDER CHILDREN because you're a babykillin' babykiller, you murderer of children who aren't born because you MURDER THEM!!" Something subtle like that. And there's one guy in the middle of the theater who begins to applaud after everything Oldman says. "BABYKILLER!" One guy clapping. "MURDERER!!" One guy clapping. A few people (myself included) hissed at him to stop it, but he just got louder. Finally, a particularly venomous voice from a few rows back said, quite loudly and clearly, "If you don't cut that shit out, I'm going to come down there and abort you." And the applauding guy responded, "I'd like to see you try it, Nazi." Take note, MPAA. There wasn't a minor in the place. When your ratings start protecting me from both of those morons, then I'll consider them successful.
But I digress. I digress because the film does. It loses focus fairly quickly, and becomes a pretty predictable ride. Gary Oldman and his big evil committee pull out some really nasty sex rumors about Joan Allen and try to smear her as the hearings progress. She won't fight back because "it's not okay for them to ask." She says this pretty early on in the film, and then sticks to it. Her character says this so many times in the film, actually, that it should have been the freakin' tag line just to make the point A LITTLE FREAKIN' CLEARER!! No matter what they throw at her, she just sits there, stoic, letting them do it. She argues issues, but she refuses to address the personal. The only time she does is when they bring up an unrelated hurt she caused to an old friend (played by Muriel Hemingway in a cameo), and she apologizes, then moves on. And they keep attacking and she keeps refusing to fight back. And then a lot of people make speeches. And that's the end.
Oh, but those speeches. When they started rolling in, I shrunk into my chair. All my worst fears were coming true. The film that started so well, so loose and smart and honest, was winding down into endless soapboxing and easy stereotypes. As a portrait of the political process, it's shocking naiive. Everything gets wrapped up in nice neat bows. No one is allowed to show a single shade of grey. We're moving into spoiler territory now, so skip two paragraphs down if you want to avoid a few of the bigger secrets. If you think Lurie's going to let any of his good guys be imperfect, you're wrong. He doesn't have the courage of his convictions. He can't tackle the idea of Joan Allen being a woman with a genuinely shocking sexual past who also happens to be the best qualified person for the job of Vice-President. That's too difficult. That requires real answers. Instead, we're let off the hook. Joan didn't do anything she was accused of. She is allowed to remain pure and perfect, sainted by her silence. It's not okay to ask the questions because they're lies. If Lurie had given her a real past, something that points up the double standard of what's acceptable in men and women, then he would have genuinely been provocative. If a man was accused of having sex with two women at once while in college, it wouldn't cost him a vote. Not one. But with a woman, it could cost her a career and a public life. The film's refusal to play fair made me turn against it.
More spoiler stuff here, and potentially even bigger, so keep moving if you're concerned. William Petersen's character turns out to be the one character I was engaged by. He could have fueled the whole movie himself. When it's revealed that he hired the woman to drive off the bridge so he could save her, I wasn't surprised. It's pretty obvious from the beginning. But the weight of that sort of secret on a man moving through the process could have been fascinating. Petersen suggests a lot with his few scenes, and this made me determined to check out his show on CBS. I've missed this guy. Kudos to Lurie for using him. I'm sorry his role wasn't expanded, that we didn't see more of his hand on the conspiracy to oust Allen. Here's a worthy villain, a human villain with motives that we can understand and even empathize with on some level. Instead, Oldman is obvious, tired. How much more interesting would it have been to have played Oldman as a good and decent man who just happens to be doing the wrong thing for what he thinks is the right reason? What if he genuinely was outraged by Allen's behavior? What if someone was playing him and his beliefs for their own purposes?
As the film unwinds, the missed opportunities really mount up, and the eventual crushing weight of frustration is what I carried out the door of the theater. The cast isn't to blame. In fact, they almost make it worth seeing despite the film's mediocrity. Bridges has one funny scene in which he's bowling in the White House bowling alley that will make any good LEBOWSKI fan giggle. Sam Elliott's great in the film, and it's nice to see him with Bridges, another treat for LEBOWSKI fans. There's a lot of mini-reunions going on here. Bridges, Allen, and Slater from TUCKER. Oldman and Slater from MURDER ON THE FIRST. The supporting cast all does able work, too. Saul Rubinek, Philip Baker Hall, and Mike Binder are all fine. Robin Thomas, who plays Allen's husband, gives real nuance to the husband of a powerful political woman, but as I watched him, I was nagged by not being able to place where I knew him from. When I checked IMDb, I was chagrined to realize that it was from Carl Reiner's SUMMER SCHOOL, a film that was playing in a theater where I worked as a teenager. I saw bits and pieces of it over and over and over, and Thomas played the asshole principal of the school, that staple of every '80s comedy. Oh, the random crap the brain retains...
Another thing about the easy approach the film takes that bothers me is how important the subject is. In this age of instant information distribution, it is easier than ever to slander and defame someone, something I've come face to face with first-hand. Harry and I have both taken our fair share of personal attacks in the past year, and every single time, it mystifies me. I read these posts or these articles, and I am amazed at the passion and the vigor with which people attempt to demonize me. In each case, there was no wrong that was done to the authors of these hit pieces. They just decided to take shots because they had the means of publication. I found that I was criticized for not responding publicly to certain things that were said, but that was a choice I made. Instead of retaliating and causing things to escalate, I prefer to keep the focus on movies. You come here to read about films, and that's what we cover. Other people may gossip, and they may cast stones, and there's nothing I can do about that. And that's the reality of it. When the really nasty wet work is done, it's often done by the last face in the world you'd expect. There are often forces at work behind the scenes, and Lurie could have had fun tracing the means by which information works its way from one person to the next to eventual public perusal. Instead, he shortcuts himself out of everything. He simplifies it to the point of idiocy. There's a couple of jabs at the Internet in the film, and it's all very ha-ha clever in a surface way. I've seen the way information is spread over the 'net, though, and so have all of you, and this particular passage of the film is too obvious for its own good.
Will this film make money? Maybe. Timing with a political movie can help (THE CHINA SYNDROME) or hurt (PRIMARY COLORS), and it's often hard to predict. Will this film be the awards-bait Dreamworks thinks it is? Maybe for nominations, but everyone's going home empty-handed. No one does work here that they haven't surpassed before in other films. If they were anything less than very, very professional, I'd be shocked, but that's hardly reason to start writing acceptance speeches. And despite some positive early buzz, I can't believe people are really going to get suckered by this thing. I think it's going to be met by nowhere near the furor Dreamworks is hoping, and any real zeitgeist it possesses will fade almost instantly. In the end, its artifice overwhelms all merit, and Lurie does to us what all politicians do: he promises far more than he can deliver.
I'm going to try to get another article up a little later today, and then I've got a landslide of stuff for the rest of the week, god willing. Until then...
"Moriarty" out.
