'W:' Stone's Bush bio brings....Fairness?

“W.” is a good deal closer to “King Lear” than it is to “Fahrenheit 9/11.” It is both American tragedy and American comedy in what amounts to an engrossing entertainment. Yes, we said “entertainment.”

This film about the life of President George W. Bush was largely expected to be another political diatribe from director Oliver Stone, a man who smells a conspiracy behind every bush. His heavy-handedness has sometimes beaten audiences either into submission or boredom. “W.,” though, is different. It is an intriguing, fair and even compassionate look at a public figure who has been, and remains, singularly polarizing.

It is forced to do what every drama must do – humanize its lead character. The resulting film is highly entertaining but probably doomed at the box office. It will surely not please the steadfast Bush bashers who want blood. On the other hand, supporters of Bush (a quiet bunch of late) are most likely to just stay away.

Both camps are advised to see this engrossing film.

Josh Brolin, the son-in-law of Barbra Streisand, gives a wonderfully shaded performance as brash, drunk, spiritual, perplexed and, finally, tragic George W. That wide a dramatic arc is a bit much to assign to any one actor. He brings it off brilliantly. Brolin cements the emerging career he has built with “No Country for Old Men” and “American Gangster” (which he largely stole). This is an Oscar-nominee performance. (But don’t count on him getting that.)

He captures the mannerisms, the staccato delivery, the down-home twang and, in the waning moments of the film, a genuinely puzzled and perhaps betrayed man.

The role was originally set for Christian Bale, who pulled out as a part of the turbulent financial background of this project. As good as the film has turned out, the main question about it, still, is “Why?”

Our suspicions are well-grounded. Stone is known to have opposed Bush’s politics. The director won two Academy Awards for directing war-time subjects “Platoon” (1986) and “Born on the Fourth of July” (1989) but seemed to have become unbalanced with “JFK,” a film that came perilously close to making a fool of him. Instead of choosing one drama, his “JFK” espoused all conspiracy theories and evolved as a mishmash that seems to ask for more controversy than it generated. His “Nixon” is similar in fair-mindedness to the present “W.,” with memorable performances from Anthony Hopkins and Joan Allen, but it had one fatal flaw – it was boring.

Stone didn’t really get a fair shake with his ad-mirable 9/11 film, “World Trade Center,” which featured a great, ignored performance by Michael Peña and one of Nicholas Cage’s best perform­ances ever.

“W.,” then, comes to local screens with more baggage than most mere films could bear, yet it rises above them all. If for no other reason, you can be caught up in the persistent question: “How far will it go?” – matched, to no less degree, by “Where will it go?”

As far as its central character is concerned, the film is interested more in a human drama than a political one. We see the early years. The beer-guzzling good ol’ boy who lands in jail after a frat party. The bad-boy second son who is ever in the shadow of goody-goody older brother Jeb. The failure at everything until he evolves by touching a public nerve and beating the potty-mouthed Ann Richards to become governor of Texas.

The recurring theme is one of an uncaring, dominant father who constantly belittles and berates him as a “disappointment.” There are scenes here that could be taken directly as dialogue between Big Daddy and Brick in Tennessee Williams’ “Cat on a Hot Tin Roof.” There are no sons in the land who are more psychologically scarred than the sons who try earnestly, and in vain, to gain the respect of a disdainful father. That drama is played, memorably, here.

Cowboy W. meets sweet librarian Laura Welch and is more interested in getting her phone number than hearing her political views. Elizabeth Banks plays the part as a kind of long-suffering but ever-supportive saint who is not very interesting. Never mind. There is plenty else to not only interest but challenge. (Laura’s tragic car crash, which would have been a natural action-film perk, has been omitted – a testament to Stone’s commitment, for once, to sticking to the subject).

Most tricky is Stone’s effort to visualize W.’s spiritual conversion. There is a visit of a religious force played by Stacy Keach, and things are pretty sudden. Alcoholism is dispensed with in one scene at an AA meeting. Then, we get to politics. Al Gore is never seen, but the results show that the American public chose the guy they’d like to have a beer with.

Then, the dreaded “I” word – Iraq. There is a chilling moment, simply chilling, when a lengthy cabinet meeting has Vice President Dick Cheney stand up and state flatly that there is no exit plan. “We will stay forever,” he states as a part of rectifying America’s untenable position of using 25 percent of the world’s oil. Here, of course, dramatic license is evident (but necessary). In this case, it’s OK. This is not a documentary but, on the other hand, it is far from a satire.

Of the political sideshow, Cheney fares worst – played as something of a grimacing fiend with obvious relish by Richard Dreyfuss. Interesting is the scene in which the president puts him in his place in a bit of ego squashing. That’s something we haven’t seen publicly.

Coming off particularly badly is Condoleezza Rice, pictured as no more than a fawning cheerleader. Actress Thandie Newton has little to do other than nod her head in agreement.

Among the more tragically dramatic arcs is the unfortunate Colin Powell, who is pictured as the one righteous force who knew better but still caved in to pressure. Powell’s speech to the U.N. perhaps did more to cement the world’s reluctant surrender to Bush’s Iraq policy than any other – because Powell was trusted. Here is a supreme tragedy within a tragedy. Actor Jeffrey Wright, who is capable of much more, makes the most of limited scenes. 

Ellen Burstyn, the first winner of the Old Dominion University-Norfolk film festival’s Lifetime Achievement Award, adds another fine character to her career. She plays Mama Barbara – a woman who freely admits that W.’s outspoken and stubborn nature comes from her. James Cromwell, who got an Oscar nomination for playing opposite a talking pig named Babe, is persistently ominous and demanding as the father none of us would want.

And then, there is comedy, if you want to call it that. In the “might as well laugh” category, W.’s misuse of the English language gets howls of laughter. Whether it is laughter of derision or of good ol’ boy recognition will depend on predisposed leanings.

What will be your place in history, W.? Upon reflection, he says, “Well, in history we’ll all be dead.”

The film ends with Iraq, but no one feels it’s over. (In fact, you will be sorry it’s over).  It is unlikely that many people will go to see this film. This is unfortunate, but quite understandable. At this point, most of us are ready to stand up and shout

“Enough!” to both sides of the shouting and whining. Surprisingly, though, the movie is more relief than pain.

Bravo to Oliver Stone for providing one of the more captivating movies in quite a while.

Mal Vincent, (757) 446-2347, mal.vincent@pilotonline.com