REVIEW: The Campaign

The Campaign (2012): Dir. Jay Roach. Written by: Chris Hency and Shawn Harwell. Starring: Will Ferrell, Zach Galifianakis, Jason Sudeikis, Katherine LaNasa, Dylan McDermott, John Lithgow, Dan Aykroyd and Brian Cox. Rated R (Dirty politics and dirtier jokes). Running time: 85 minutes.

3 stars (out of four)

The Campaign, directed by Jay Roach and starring Will Ferrell and Zach Galifianakis, seeks to lampoon the cruel, nasty, dirty game that is contemporary American politics. And what better time to do so than when the country is smack in the middle of a heated election?

The cinematic landscape of 2012 might not at first seem to be the most conducive environment for a savvy political satire. The must-be-as-vulgar-as-possible imperatives of today’s mainstream comedies don’t leave much room for the more nuanced aims of satire. And yet movies like The Campaign prove that these disparate comedic objectives can be merged – and they don’t even need to be accused of flip-flopping. (See also: the films of Sacha Baron Cohen and the Harold & Kumar series which are crude and clever – in that order.)

Satirizing the politics of the present moment is also difficult for another reason. How do you make absurd what is already ridiculous? The Campaign is up to the task, escalating steadily from slight exaggerations of what we see on the news to increasingly outrageous gags. This is also where the film’s second identity as a crude comedy comes in handy. The Campaign is able to enter decidedly R-rated territory the likes of Jon Stewart or Stephen Colbert, say, cannot touch even on late-night TV.

Director Jay Roach is a good fit for the material, having previously directed movies for HBO about two of the more surreal chapters in recent political history – the 2000 recount and the vice presidential candidacy of Sarah Palin. He also helmed two of the bigger hits of the late-90s/early-2000s – Austin Powers and Meet the Parents – so he knows how to put together a comedy. The Campaign skips along at a fast pace, never lingering too long on any one bit.

Having Will Ferrell and Zach Galifianakis at your disposal certainly helps too. Mr. Ferrell plays Congressman Cam Brady, a Democrat from North Carolina’s 14^th District. Cam Brady doesn’t have much of anything to add to political discourse but has found he can win over just about any crowd by strategically emphasizing the words America, Jesus and Freedom. Also by showing off his wife, Rose (Katherine LaNasa, looking like the spitting image of Ann Romney), who gives a supporting wave from behind the podium, hoping to smile her way into the role of Second Lady.

Cam has grown accustomed to running unopposed and even the worst PR incident – a lewd message meant for his mistress but left on a quaint Southern family’s answering machine is only the most recent – seems unlikely to jeopardize a fifth term for him.

That is, until the Motch brothers (Dan Aykroyd and John Lithgow) decide to intervene. The billionaire brothers need a man on Capitol Hill who will support their latest collaboration with a Chinese manufacturer (they want to build a sweat shop in North Carolina). They decide to fund a PAC that will support Marty Huggins (Zach Galifianakis), the son of their business partner, Raymond (Brian Cox), in a ploy to buy a candidate who will endorse their scheme. Marty, a pudgy oddball with a squeak of a voice, runs the small town of Hammond’s tourism office. He has never thought of himself as a politician but has always hoped his father might one day ask him to run for office.

We know from last year’s The Ides of March that behind every candidate is a campaign advisor pulling the strings. Tim Wattley (a straight-faced and hilarious Dylan McDermott) is called in to work on the Huggins campaign and retool Marty’s public image. (He swaps Marty’s beloved pugs for Labrador retrievers and packs the Huggins household with hunting gear.) Marty’s sweetheart of a wife, Mitzi (Sarah Baker), feels her husband has changed in the name of political ambition but it’s not long before she gets caught up in the campaign as well, and in an especially embarrassing way. Meanwhile, at Camp Brady, Cam’s advisor, Mitch Wilson (Jason Sudeikis playing straight man to Mr. Ferrell), struggles to keep his candidate from imploding.

The satire in The Campaign is blunt and often obvious but subtlety probably isn’t the best approach when your leads are Mr. Ferrell and Mr. Galifianakis. Whenever the script, written by Chris Henchy and Shawn Harwell, loses steam, the two actors pick up the slack with energetic performances. They play off one another well. (For those who are looking for a subtler jab at politics, I highly recommend the 2009 British comedy In the Loop.)

The Campaign has the hastily made feel of a movie that was produced quickly in order to hit on a topical subject matter while it’s still relevant. This is also to say that it has a loose and eager-to-please style that doesn’t worry whether or not every joke sticks. The script could be tighter in places and the ending in particular goes out with a whimper but these shortcomings aren’t too detrimental.

I mentioned The Ides of March earlier and the more I think about it, the more I’m amused at how much the two movies have in common (they follow similar story beats and set their sights on basically the same targets). For my money, The Campaign does a better job exposing the hypocrisies of political campaigns and takes the more appropriate approach to the subject. With things the way they are, maybe a handful of goofy jokes are the only proper response.

- Steve Avigliano, 8/13/12

REVIEW: The Artist

The Artist (2011): Written and directed by Michel Hazanavicius. Starring: Jean Dujardin, Bérénice Bejo, John Goodman, James Cromwell and Penelope Ann Miller. Rated PG-13 (Nothing offensive). Running time: 100 minutes.

2 stars (out of four)

The sudden rise of talkies in the late 1920s causes trouble for the career of a silent film star (Jean Dujardin) in The Artist, an awfully cute exercise in nostalgia written and directed by French filmmaker Michel Hazanavicius. In loving homage to the silent era, The Artist itself is a silent film complete with a whimsical score by Ludovic Bource on the soundtrack and title cards that pop up onscreen with dialogue. Unfortunately, this clever premise amounts to little more than a gimmick. There is not enough story to sustain the film’s 100 minutes and this playful tribute wears its welcome.

Exiting the theater after his latest film’s premiere, George Valentin (Dujardin) poses for the cameras. A fan (Bérénice Bejo) drops her purse at his feet and Valentin, the flirt that he is, takes the opportunity to ham it up even more for the papers. He grabs hold of her and she – Peppy Miller is her name – even plants a kiss on the actor’s cheek. The cameramen go nuts for this and pictures of the impromptu smooch are on the front page of every newspaper. Mr. Hazanavicius delights in depicting a pre-paparazzi Hollywood when the press only took flattering pictures of celebrities.

Taking full advantage of her fifteen minutes of fame, Peppy Miller charms her way into a bit part in George Valentin’s new movie that is currently shooting in a Hollywood backlot. She and Valentin flirt onset but Valentin is unhappily married to an icy woman (Penelope Ann Miller) and in this rose-colored view of 1927, infidelity is not an option. So the fling fizzles before it begins and the two move on.

Flash-forward to a few years later: The talkie has arrived and the studio head (a cigar chomping John Goodman) informs Valentin that he will have to transition to the new medium if he wants to remain a star. Valentin is outraged. Silent film is not dead, he says. And to prove it he will finance and star in his own film. The movie, an adventure picture, bankrupts Valentin and he becomes depressed. The advent of sound is great news to Peppy Miller, though. The young actress’s name now fills the marquees and audiences line up around the block to buy tickets to the latest Peppy Miller romance.

Valentin meanwhile drowns his sorrows in booze. His only friends are his dog (Uggie, the Jack Russell) and his driver (James Cromwell). Here, the film gets bogged down with redundant scenes of Valentin moping about unemployed and it becomes clear that Mr. Hazanavicius is stalling for time. Scenes drag on longer than they need to and a number of scenes could have been cut entirely. He clearly has a love for old Hollywood and diligently recreates the visual style of a silent film but when he begins padding his story, the retro-conceit loses its charm.

There are a few self-conscious winks aimed at modern audiences – one character flips the bird and a few shots feature visual flourishes that would have been too technically sophisticated at the turn of the century – and often the whole film feels as though it is winking and smiling at you. But The Artist lacks energy. What should have been a lively celebration of Hollywood’s past grows tedious and repetitive. There is so much potential here for Mr. Hazanavicius to pay tribute to the many genres of the silent era but he curiously limits himself to an underdeveloped story that cannot support a feature-length film. Instead of giving us a dozen scenes of Valentin wallowing in his misery, why not fill that time with more lively material, like a dance number? (The movie does end with a tap dance but it’s too little, too late.)

The Artist does have one truly astounding scene: a dream sequence that comes after Valentin learns his studio will no longer produce silent films. As he sits in his dressing room, the world suddenly starts making noise. His footsteps are audible on the wooden floor. Cars are heard out the window. The dog barks. But when Valentin opens his mouth to speak – nothing. He screams but no sound comes out. Its an arresting moment but occurs early in the film and nothing that follows matches its ingenuity. The Artist is a nice idea but simply cannot sustain itself beyond a handful of clever scenes.

- Steve Avigliano, 1/22/12