'W.' stumbles under a tamer Stone

Given his resume, director Oliver Stone seems perfect for his latest project, “W.,” a quasi-satire about the life and times of President Bush, played by Josh Brolin. Stone’s best films feature a sense of indignation and fury toward their subjects, a quality that could have made “W.” an incendiary look at a controversial president. In “W.,” however, Stone is completely sapped of his signature outrage, instead treating his subject with mild amusement alongside poorly incorporated moments of high drama. His perspective on Bush results in a shoddily made film that fails to challenge long-held perceptions about the self-styled cowboy living in the White House. The viewer is left with nothing new, merely a rehashing of a well-known story.

“W.” focuses on two different strands of Bush’s life: his presidency and his early years in Texas and at Yale. He moves from being a Yale frat boy to a drunken businessman to a born-again-Christian governor who receives “the call from God” to run for the highest office. Unfortunately, the film rarely goes beyond the depictions of Bush that have long been a part of the popular imagination. Who would be surprised by a portrayal of Bush as first a fun-loving party boy and then a jocular, word-mangling president?

The film is plagued by a needlessly confusing, nonlinear presentation that jumps with abandon between Bush’s presidency and his hell-raising days. The overly complex narrative renders characters other than W. one-dimensional. Donald “Rummy” Rumsfeld ’54 (Scott Glenn) is a crazy kook who functions with Orwellian logic, while Karl “Turd Blossom” Rove (Toby Jones) is a slippery realist who cares only about poll numbers. Watching “W.” is like reading the back cover of an interesting book: The film gives the gist of the story without going into substantive detail.

Because of its wide-ranging plot, the film rarely settles on a consistent tone, vacillating between tongue-in-cheek comedy and high drama. At Yale, Bush’s classmates submerge the future president in a vat of ice while pouring beer over his head. This scene and others seem to be straight out of raucous college comedies like “Animal House.” Heavily dramatic sequences often clash with these lighthearted bits of comedy. Later in the film, an increasingly frustrated Colin Powell (Jeffrey Wright) stares straight into the camera and asks without irony, “Why Iraq? Why now?” As the four-star general poses these deep questions, it remains unclear if we’re meant to take this maudlin moment seriously or laugh at it. Because the film’s comedic and dramatic aspects never quite come together, it is at times impossible to fully engage with.

Only one scene strikes the perfect balance between satire and the dark post-Sept. 11 reality the film sometimes touches on. Early in the film, Vice President Dick Cheney (Richard Dreyfuss) explains the merits of “advanced interrogation techniques” to the president. Cheney tells Bush about the tactics not in some shadowy war room but over lunch in a brightly lit nook of the White House. Almost on a whim, the executive approves measures that will inevitably be controversial. The brilliant scene, lacking any grandiose speeches, is terrifying in its presentation of an administration willing to approach critical issues with utter nonchalance. It seems so absurd that such a major decision can be reached without contemplation while eating a ham sandwich that one cannot help but laugh.

In the final moments of their transformative power lunch, Bush warns Cheney not to overstep his bounds, bluntly telling him “Hey, Vice, when we’re in meetings, keep a lid on it … I’m still the president.” Brolin radiates a command that the film rarely allows him to showcase. Telling Cheney to watch his ego offers the gifted performer a rare chance to elevate his portrayal of Bush above the ignorant persona established by Will Ferrell on countless episodes of “Saturday Night Live.” The intelligence that lingers in the actor’s eyes indicates that Brolin could have taken his Bush far beyond his well-worn, down-home image if only the film had let him.

Just as Brolin is at his best in this scene, so too is Dreyfuss as Cheney. When presenting enhanced interrogation as the only way to stop nuclear attacks, the veteran actor plays the much-maligned vice president with surprising flair. Unfortunately, at no other moment does the auxiliary character operate with such depth. While planning the Second Gulf War, Cheney stands in front of a world map pontificating about an American empire based on control of the world’s oil. Cheney often comes off as a leftist’s nightmare, a one-note villain with no connection to the real world. The unconvincing portrayal of Cheney typifies the problem of a film that prefers caricature to nuanced characterization.

Oliver Stone ultimately characterizes history as a bad joke. He makes no effort to understand the consequences of Bush’s actions, preferring instead to laugh at the subject from a distance. President Bush has fought wars and shaped the world. Whether you love him or hate him, he deserves to be examined more closely. Film has the capacity to provide a deep understanding of larger-than-life figures, yet the director has created a portrait that fails to delve into the most important aspects of Bush and his presidency. A muzzled Stone turns out to be far from the perfect artist to insightfully explore the life of one of recent history’s most polarizing leaders.