W.

Here is a film that could easily have been a grotesque caricature study that bashes the shit out of the Bush administration, but it is actually an illuminating biopic that seeks to understand one of our nation’s greatest failures. Staunch liberal Oliver Stone refuses to take the Michael Moore route and, instead, employs the philosophy that before we can criticize our enemies we must praise them. Stone first paints Bush in a flattering light, lauding him (possibly too warmly) for his Southern charm and preternatural ability to connect with people, and as he leads us through Bush’s sweetly-penned relationship with Laura, his recovery from alcoholism, and renewal of faith, we see that the central conflict in W. isn’t a political struggle: it is an internal battle that had global repercussions.

The movie takes us back as far as W.’s college days, when H.W. must continually pull his rebellious son back from the brink of ruination. Family life cultivates W.’s lifelong notion that in the Bush family golden child Jeb can do no wrong while George Jr. can’t catch a break. After Bush Sr. wins the presidency, the movie details H.W.’s determination to end the first Iraq war honorably, causing minimal destruction. But when that approach fails to earn him a second term, we can practically see the gears turning in little Bush’s head as we realize, horrified, what we are in for. As the 1990s progress, George W. sees the rest of his family thriving in the political world, and is endlessly frustrated when H.W. discourages his own political aspirations, grooming Jeb as his protégé. This basic rejection fuels W. onward as he sets out to prove himself. Thus ensues the repeat-war that W. pushes further than his father dared, and wins him the second term that Sr. was denied. But even as W. holds the most powerful office in the world, his father’s approval is always out of reach.

Stone’s divine lighting scheme fits perfectly into Bush’s Christian motif. The white shafts of light spearing the oval office in W.’s nightmares recall the story of Cain and Abel, uncovering Bush’s fear that despite his successes, he has displeased his father who favored his brother, and further assimilates Bush Sr. to God (the Father) and Adam (the first). No matter how much success W. garners, he lives in mortal fear that he will never outshine Jeb in his father’s eyes, whose approval seems to falter with his sinking ratings.

The brilliant ensemble performances and clever casting are what ultimately enable Stone to pull the whole thing off. Josh Brolin does a brilliant job of embodying a perpetually-snacking Bush, mastering the cocky swagger and lilting accent, and softening the character to someone the masses can identify with (but not vice versa). They may have overshot a little in casting Laura Bush: Elizabeth Banks endowed Laura with life and grace, when in reality a low-rent robot would have sufficed. James Cromwell plays a genuine and fallible George H.W. Bush, breaking down into tears in the heart-wrenching scene when Clinton sneaks off with his second term. Ellen Burstyn as Babs, Richard Dreyfus as the conniving Cheney, and Jeffrey Wright as the voice-of-reason Colin Powell were strokes of genius on casting’s part, who only sank to petty caricatures in the case of Condoleeza Rice (Thandie Newton). But we needed one, right?

W. begins its spiral toward tragedy in a scene where Bush holds a meeting with his Cabinet while leading them around his Texas ranch, and even though he loses his way on his own property, his disciples continue to follow their leader silently down a series of wrong turns. This blind leadership is what clinches the hopelessness of W.—at every disastrous downturn of his presidency, Bush still believes with all his heart that he is making the right choices. By trying to understand the man, we can see all the more vividly what a calamitous waste his presidency was, and the only silver lining remains that his policies negatively affected enough Americans for the pendulum of the people to swing in the direction of our nation’s first black president. With W., Stone has proven we can learn more by seeking to understand the one behind our nation’s mishaps than through the parallel blindness of hatred. -CH.

Director: Oliver Stone
Writer: Stanley Weiser