THE AISLE SEAT - "BULWORTH"
by Mike McGranaghan
Bulworth is one of the strangest movies I have ever seen. I'm not sure I can explain why, although I'll certainly give it my best shot. This is a movie with Attention Deficit Disorder; it can hardly wait to get onto the next thing, and the next, and the next. The pacing is oddly rushed. At times, you just have to take parts of the story for granted because you aren't going to get a real detailed explanation. When it was over, I scratched my head. And yet my post-screening prediction was right: flaws aside, Bulworth has stayed with me. In comparison, I saw Godzilla the same day and had forgotten most of it by that evening. Bulworth, though, has had me thinking for days, pondering its socio-political satire over and over.
Warren Beatty (in what has to be one of the liveliest performances of his career) plays California Democratic Senator Jay Bulworth. As the movie begins, Bulworth is in the final weekend of his re-election campaign. He is tired of giving the same speech over and over again. He hasn't slept for days. He's depressed. And then something happens (I won't tell you what) that sends him reeling. Everything catches up to him and he goes berserk.
First, he delivers an inflammatory speech at a black L.A. church. When an angry woman asks him if he dares to suggest that the Democratic party doesn't care about the African-American community, he replies, "Isn't that obvious?" After the speech, though, he's in a limo with three black women, one of whom is a street-tough beauty named Nina (Halle Berry). They take the Senator to a popular hangout in the 'hood where he learns a lot about rap culture. Soon, he's speaking only in rhyme (even at an important fund raising dinner), dancing hip-hop, and dressing like a gang member. Voters in the state are shocked, but begin to realize that Bulworth isn't mocking the culture; he's trying to say something, even if what he's saying sounds strange coming out of his mouth.
I think one of the reasons Bulworth doesn't always make sense is that it wants to capture the Senator's dizzying break from reality. In this measure, the picture works beautifully. There's a genuine feeling that things are spinning out of control. The film creates a blurry atmosphere of disregard, as Bulworth ignores his advisors and goes with the flow. There's another factor that plays into all this madness and raises it a level, but I don't want to ruin that surprise. Just know that the film feels for the audience the same way things must feel in Jay Bulworth's head - and this is to the movie's credit.
Political satire seems to be making a comeback after the recent movies Wag the Dog and Primary Colors. I suppose the mood of the nation is cynical enough about politics to make this kind of story popular. Bulworth, while often scandalously funny, is more than satire, however. There's a real spirit in the film, one of anger, disgust, and pity. Beatty, who also directed and co-wrote the screenplay, isn't taking cheap shots at black culture or the hardships of inner city life. Instead, he has taken subtle aim at liberalism itself. Among the myriad things the film suggests is that racial issues aren't effectively dealt with because it is neither financially nor politically beneficial for candidates to do so. And the Democratic party - which has typically been critical of how the Republican party has handled racial issues - has been all talk and no action. You can agree or disagree with this point (or any of the other provocative issues the movie raises) but it's hard to deny that Bulworth gets you thinking. There is another prominent idea involving the need for black leadership that is equally debate-worthy.
Besides its intriguing political agenda, Bulworth is packed with good performances. Beatty is sensationally funny; the movie's one joke is seeing him repeatedly infused with the fixtures of rap culture, but the joke never grows tired. I also enjoyed Halle Berry as the Senator's new love interest, Don Cheadle (Boogie Nights) as a drug dealer with his own political ideas, and Oliver Platt as Bulworth's top advisor, who is horrified by his boss's behavior. Platt's job is to look like he's on the verge of a heart attack for the whole movie, a task he accomplishes with extraordinary comic finesse.
Bulworth has a lot of terrific elements, but it also has that unusual sense of feeling like a movie on amphetamines. Beatty had so many ideas he wanted to throw in that the film bolts manically from one thing to another. You really have to put a lot of effort into interpreting the events depicted in this story. And the last scene, in particular, left the audience at my screening wondering aloud about its meaning. I've given the picture a lot of thought in the last few days. I now know what that last scene is about. I know what Beatty is saying to the audience. You will, too, if you keep at it. Bulworth may not always go down easily, but it sticks with you and forces you to challenge your own beliefs - just what a good political satire is supposed to do.
(
out of four)
Return
to the Film Page
