Film and Felt

Like all Oliver Stone works, good or bad, W. is a sprawling, grandiose mess. Unfortunately, like the worst of Stone’s movies, W. also feels bloated, sloppy, and overambitious. At 130 minutes, it’s actually significantly shorter than most Stone films (for comparison, JFK clocked in at nearly 3 1/2 hours), but the ‘abridged’ runtime doesn’t keep the caffeine-driven director from trying to stuff everything he can think of into W. Stone pours eight years worth of anger into the celluloid—multiple flashbacks into George W. Bush’s rebellious cowboy past (including countless shots of Bush downing bottles of Jack Daniels), an Oedipal relationship of sorts with George H.W. Bush, and cameos from every member of the disgraceful team that contributed to the President’s current 26% approval rating. Yet while there are a few powerful sequences (the father/son dynamic is gracefully handled for the most part, reminding the viewers that Bush Sr. was much more of a moderate on foreign policy than his son), W. is mostly so discombobulated that it bounces from moment-to-moment like a kangaroo on cocaine.

One of Stone’s biggest blunders is his casual portrayals of the administrations’ key players. Very few are fleshed out enough to resonate with the casual political follower; only Secretary of State Colin Powell’s internal dilemma over Iraq is depicted with any emotional heft. Karl Rove comes off as a sniveling nerd who tags along with his political bully buddies everywhere they go, rather than the calm-yet-sinister architect of so many of Bush’ horrific decisions. Vice President Cheney is appropriately cold, but the extent of his influence and evil is vastly understated. And Condoleezza Rice appears to be little less than a useless simp acting as Bush’s chief cheerleader, while Donald Rumsfeld’s contributions are barely noted, despite Bush constantly referring to him as “Rummy.” While it’s obviously asking too much for Stone to capture all the nuances of the dysfunctional White House, it’s not too much to expect some prioritizing and accuracy in the representations. In fact, Stone is so consumed with vilifying the entire crew (except for Powell, who gets a bit of a human side) that he tramples all over Laura Bush’ character, depicting her as a Democratic airhead who falls head-over-heels for a hot dog-chewing, spur-wearing Republican cowboy for…no good reason whatsoever. She fares no better as W. goes along, with her crown moment being an excited exclamation to the President that Cats is in town. Given that Laura Bush is widely considered an excellent First Lady (even by Democrats) and has done a lot of good, she deserves better than this.

As for Bush himself, Josh Brolin doesn’t quite look the part, but the voice and gesticulations are pitch-perfect. Stone does a good job of illustrating Bush’s embrace of his faith—which has played such an oversized role in his administration—as well as his flippant attitude and stubborn ego. And the acting all-around is pretty good (particularly James. Cromwell as Bush Sr.), despite having a weak script to work with. Had W. been a more intimate character portrait of Bush, it could have been much more powerful. But Stone doesn’t do intimate, and W. ends up a failure—a cheap, swollen cartoon about an administration that certainly deserves it, but in a heartier way than this, given all the damage that’s been caused.

RATING: con