The Front Runner

Director: Jason Reitman
Starring: Hugh Jackman, Vera Farmiga, J.K. Simmons, Alfred Molina, Sara Paxton, Mamoudou Athie, Kaitlyn Dever, Toby Huss, Molly Ephraim, Steve Zissis, Spencer Garrett, Ari Graynor, Bill Burr, Mike Judge, Kevin Pollack, Mark O' Brien
Running Time: 113 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Does it matter? That's the question at the center of Jason Reitman's The Front Runner, which details Senator Gary Hart's unsuccessful 1988 Presidential bid. At one point not only a lock for the nod, but seemingly the White House, all of Hart's political ambitions came crashing down in the span of merely three weeks. Young, good-looking, charismatic and full of fresh ideas, his campaign was derailed because he had an ex-marital affair. But that wasn't the story. The real story was that it was the first time anyone bothered to care. The media. The public. His colleagues. For the previous 200 years, politicians got free passes in their private lives, which remained just that: private. Hart's timing was terrible, his ascent having arrived on the precipice of a major sea change in our culture that's carried over into today: when news became entertainment.

Hart felt the wrath when character and trustworthiness in our public figures suddenly became an issue and the press realized they could make bank exposing it. In other words, he really stepped in it and the way he reacted, or rather didn't, circles back to that question of whether a public figure's private business should really matter, and whether that matters when he's a politician seeking the highest office in the land. It's a question we're still wrestling with and one Reitman thoroughly examines here with surprising insight and objectivity.

After losing the 1984 Democratic Presidential nomination to Walter Mondale, idealistic, rejuvenated Colorado Senator Gary Hart (Hugh Jackman) returns four years later, entering the 1988 race, quickly becoming the front runner to earn the nomination that earlier alluded him. With wife Lee (Vera Farmiga) and daughter Andrea (Kaitlyn Dever) in his corner, Hart seems to be the ideal family values candidate, telling it like it is and promising to put the people and country first. There's only one problem: his marriage. Or more specifically, an affair he's having with a Florida-based model named Donna Shaw (Sara Paxton), whose best friend tips off Miami Herald reporter Tom Fiedler (Steve Zissis) about their secret excursions.

With Washington Post's A.J. Parker (Mamoudou Athie) also cornering Hart about his extracurricular activities in an interview, the senator becomes defensive as ever, lashing out at anyone daring to bring up his personal life. But he's in trouble, and despite loyal supporters like hard-nosed campaign manager (Bill Dixon) and scheduler Irene Kelly (Molly Ephraim) telling him otherwise, Hart stubbornly stays the course, even as the media has a field day exposing his transgressions. Unfortunately, the only course he's now headed on would seem to lead toward political infamy and embarassment rather than the White House.

Reitman's casting of Hugh Jackman as the embattled senator is meant to convey something that perhaps another actor in the role wouldn't. Despite what you may have seen or read about Hart or any of the paralells between him and Jackman as far as their likability, charisma, or ability to hold an audience, they're worlds apart. And if we're going strictly on appearance, they actually look nothing alike. The choice is clearly meant to idealize both Hart himself and his campaign, but it works. It's as if the producers asked themselves which actor would make the senator look ten times better than he actually was, which isn't to say he wasn't a strong candidate in reality. But in Jackman's shoes, he manages to seem even better and more trustworthy. How could you not vote for this guy? And that makes his eventual collapse all the more disappointing and symbolic.

While we expect Jackman would excel at playing a baby-kissing, family-oriented man of the people, what he best captures is Hart's hubris. His complete disbelief that anyone would want to talk about  his personal life instead of the issues or the country. He's also personally offended, demanding that what he does on his own time is off limits without exception. In one sense, his idealism is commendable, but it's also becoming increasingly unrealistic, shading him as an entitled egomaniac. It's the push and pull between the two sides of this man's character, or sometimes lack thereof, that make for such a compelling implosion.  His failure to grasp that nothing is off limits anymore and how that leads to his undoing is what makes the picture engaging, despite an opening half hour that lures us into thinking we're watching a dry political docudrama.

One of the best scenes occur between Jackman and J.K. Simmons' as Hart's campaign manager, who attempts to convince him that, morals and fairness aside, the coverage of the scandal is quickly eating away at everything he and his staffers have been working for. Of course, it falls on deaf ears as Hart continually refuses to acknowledge its existence and plows forward, rewriting his speeches while dismissing the allegations so flippantly that it gives a whole new inflexible meaning to the phrase "staying on topic."

There's never a moment of self-reflection, even when being followed and ambushed outside his D.C. residence, camera in his face while questions are being fired. Yet as unlikable as he is and how little remorse he seems to show, Hart still makes a valid point that if we used this criteria to judge our leaders we wouldn't have had a Martin Luther King or John F. Kennedy, both of whom were serial womanizers in an era where their indiscretions were protected. Why should he be treated any differently? The answer's simple: he's entered a different era.

If Hart has a rough time adjusting to this paradigm shift, the media has just as difficult a time figuring out how to handle it. And it's here where some of the accusations that Reitman didn't dig deep enough or just grazed the surface of the story's implications don't hold water. He takes us inside these newsrooms showing how they struggle and debate the merits of covering this, and how. Some, like Washington Post editor Ben Bradlee (Alfred Molina), are all in, while trepidatious Post reporter A.J. Parker's guilt at exposing Hart is pitted against his equally strong moral sense of responsibility as a journalist.

In a cast loaded with valuable utility players, few make as strong an impression as Molly Ephraim as the fictional Irene Kelly, a political handler who now must handle the "other woman" in the scandal, Donna Shaw. In doing this, she realizes that aside from the young woman's naivete and poor judgment, she'll be a casualty. The senator will suffer the political fallout but the scandal will follow her wherever she goes after she's dragged through the mud by the media and Hart's team. She's not as strong as Vera Farmiga's more hardened Lee Hart,  putting on a tough public face to shield herself and daughter Andrea from the humiliation her husband's actions caused, only confirming what she suspected of him all along.

At its core, The Front Runner is a process picture, and while it won't anytime soon be confused with the likes of All The President's Men or Zodiac as far as how deep or skillfully it takes us into the newsroom, it makes for an effective snapshot of a little discussed turning point for American politics and in our culture. The true events dramatized in the former film heavily played into what would eventually take down Gary Hart. Post-Watergate, everyone in the press wanted to be crusaders, and found their perfect vehicle with this candidate, who didn't exactly do himself any favors with his actions, regardless of how much luckier his predecessors may have been. It's one thing to apologize, but it's another entirely to apologize for getting caught.

Up in the Air

Director: Jason Reitman
Starring: George Clooney, Vera Farmiga, Anna Kendrick, Jason Bateman, Danny McBride, Melanie Lynskey, Sam Elliott, Zach Galifianakis
Running Time: 109 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ 1/2 (out of ★★★★)

And so the streak continues for George Clooney. After years of the media bending over backwards to push him as the the savior of American movies when his acting work didn't support that inflated claim, he's only recently turned a corner to prove himself somewhat worthy of the hype. It started with Michael Clayton in 2007, continuing shortly thereafter with Leatherheads and Burn After Reading. While each film resulted in varying degrees of success, they were smart, interesting choices that revealed further dimensions to him as an actor. His latest role in Jason Reitman's Up in the Air is as perfect a fit for him and his acting style as we've seen mainly because of how the material plays to all his strengths. For three quarters of the film it presents a lot of big, timely ideas but does so in a mostly black and white manner, glazing over the surface of what could be a deeper story. Then comes that ending.

Much of the way through Reitman handles a sensitive subject with intelligence, but also kid gloves, avoiding any shades of gray or pushing uncomfortable buttons that would compromise its mainstream appeal. Then come the final 15 minutes in which all of my complaints are addressed and the events that occur call into question the real purpose of everything that came before. In other words, Reitman takes those gloves off and only the most cynical of audience members need apply. All the accolades and likely awards the film will receive are almost exclusively earned in its final act. I appreciated the rare display of brutal honesty, as at odds as it is with the rest of the picture.

Clooney is Ryan Bingham, a "career transition counselor" who makes his living firing people for companies whose bosses don't want to do it themselves. Racking up as many frequent flier miles as he can in his quest to reach 10 million, he leads a life free of personal connections and relationships. In his successful motivational lectures across the country, he urges others to do the same and "empty their backpacks" of all people and things weighing them down. But when Natalie Keener (Anna Kendrick) a spunky 23 year-old hotshot fresh out of Cornell arrives on the scene, Ryan's boss (well played by Jason Bateman) takes to her brilliant new idea of laying people off via teleconferencing, a method Ryan believes is not only cold and impersonal, but belittles his achievements. Before he's taken off the road though he has to show Natalie the ropes and contend with his growing feelings for a woman named Alex (Vera Farmiga), another frequent flier, and maybe the only person who truly understands his transient existence and can tolerate his narcissism.

According to Ryan, the ability to lay someone off effectively goes beyond being just a skill. It's a very delicate art. And as depressing and difficult as it is to watch the many firings that take place in a variety of different scenarios (some in which real laid off workers are used), these are the most fascinating scenes in the film because they prove him right. Studies have shown being fired ranks right up there with losing a family member on the stress scale, which makes sense. If you've ever talked to someone who had to do the firing you'll notice they still have a look on their faces like they committed murder. He has an incredibly specific technique down for handling the situation in such a way as to absolve the company of any guilt while creating the illusion for these people that their lives aren't completely destroyed.

Ryan is an expert at laying people off in a condescending way without the condescension. This is in stark contrast to Natalie who attempts to implement Ryan's techniques but lacks the confidence and experience to pull it off, coming across instead as cold and robotic. When Ryan tells these people that great leaders sat in their position at one point you're tempted to believe him not only because he puts on a good show but because the facts actually back him up on it. None of these layoffs are presented in a cookie-cutter way as a lot of these scenes really are brutal, but in depicting Ryan's personal plight the script doesn't cut quite as deep, at times feeding us a rather simplistic message that someone's life is worthless without a spouse and kids to share it with. Such a broad generalization is almost as condescending as the firings taking place over the course of the film, but luckily, Reitman and co-writer Sheldon Turner's script (adapted from Walter Kirn's 2001 novel) proves to have more depth than that.

That Ryan is supposed to painted as a first-class jerk is a bit of a problem as well since, as played by Clooney, he comes across as a pretty cool guy and the carefree lifestyle he leads is depicted (unintentionally?) as being a lot of fun. The parallel between character and performer works to his favor here like it never has before, possibly at the slight expense of the film. From him, arrogance comes off instead as admirable bravado and this role would definitely fall more on the "movie star" than "actor" side of the spectrum, which is fine. He's called upon to do more at the end. It's ironic that the movie never explores the idea that Ryan's lack of connecting ties in his life could be what's making him so effective at this particular job. He's compassionate, but is able to keep a reasonable enough distance to not crack when firing someone. Relative newcomer Anna Kendrick is excellent as Natalie, the ambitious young underling learning the ropes from a pro and their working relationship evolves interestingly in that they have a lot to take from each other. Ryan can't seem to connect emotionally with anyone on any level while Natalie, as career-driven as she is, is too emotional in her personal life and it starts to spill over. It's a tightrope walk, but Kendrick aces it.

As the love interest, Vera Farmiga is less successful than Kendrick in developing a three-dimensional character mainly because she's given less to work with in terms of screen time, at least until the movie's shocking turn of events in the final minutes. She's fine in the role, but I can't help thinking her turn has been slightly overpraised just because everyone is desperate to see her land a great part after doing so much work that's flown under the radar for the past couple of years. This isn't that part. Nevertheless, she brings the right amount of class and intelligence to Alex and shares great chemistry with Clooney.

It isn't until Ryan comes home to Milwaukee for the wedding of his sister (Melanie Lynskey) and fiancee (Danny McBride) that the script starts to cash in on all the ideas it laid on the table. There's a point where the story is sure to be headed toward the most predictable destination possible, but then takes a sharp, unpredictable turn. Without giving away too much, Reitman had a choice in presenting things the way they would end in a movie or how they would REALLY end. He very wisely went for the latter and it changes the complexity of the entire story. This is one of those rare cases where the final minutes do really cause you to reevaluate everything. How? That'll largely depend on perspective, but the movie's message becomes muddled in a good way and is far from being as simplistic as I had it pegged it at the start. Forget about traveling. This ending is so depressing and painfully realistic it's more likely to have audiences wanting to jump off a plane than fly in one. It also enables Clooney the welcome opportunity to do some heavy lifting in the acting department. His natural charm and charisma may carry most of this, but at the end we're reminded how effective he also is when the material pushes him to do more.

This is about as slickly packaged a piece of mainstream, Oscar-friendly entertainment as you can expect at this time of year, directed by a filmmaker who lately seems to have had that market cornered lately with Thank You for Smoking and Juno. It was a nice surprise to discover the film contained more of Smoking's bite than I thought it would, with enough depth that it could easily hold up to repeated viewings. While I'd hate to see it rewarded just on the basis of dealing with timely, hot-button issues, there's no denying the topics explored do really speak to where we are right now in terms of downsizing and how technology has in many ways made us more disconnected than ever. It's one thing to introduce relevant ideas, but another entirely to present them well in in an engaging story that leaves a lasting impression. Because of that, Up in the Air rises slightly above the safe, audience pleasing picture it appears to be on the surface.

The Departed

Director: Martin Scorsese
Starring: Leonardo DiCaprio, Matt Damon, Jack Nicholson, Mark Wahlberg, Martin Sheen, Alec Baldwin, Vera Farmiga, Ray Winstone
Running Time: 152 min.
Rating: R

**** (out of ****)

There's been a lot of talk lately about where The Departed stands in the pantheon of legendary Martin Scorsese pictures. I never considered myself a huge Scorsese fan so this concerns me very little. His films are always expertly made and technically brilliant, but for some reason have always failed to connect with me on a personal level the way the Kubrick or even Spielberg could. It could be because nearly all of his movies center around organized crime, family, and betrayal that it seems like he's making a different version of the same film every time out.

They're all fantastic, but you can't help but get the feeling you know what to expect when Scorsese is behind the lens. When he tried to stretch a little bit with The Gangs of New York and The Aviator it was met with tepid reception, if not from critics, then from audiences who wanted their old Marty back. They were right but while both films were overlong and tedious, no one could say they weren't interesting.

With The Departed, a remake of the Hong Kong crime thriller Infernal Affairs, they have him back. He's at the top of his game and has made his most exciting, audience friendly picture yet. I can honestly say, of all of Scorsese's films, I had the most fun watching this one, and if I had to, would rank it ahead of many of his others. It also features some of America's best actors giving the performances of their careers. Like most Scorsese films, I can't promise you it'll stay with me forever, but for it's entire two and a half hour running time it had me captivated and on the edge of my seat. That counts for something.

Billy Costigan (Leonardo DiCaprio) and Frank Sullivan (Matt Damon) both grew up on the rough streets of Boston with the goal of becoming a police officer. Scorsese shows us, within minutes of the picture, the different paths they take to get there and sets the stage for one of the most fascinating battles between good and evil seen recently in films. Costigan, who has a checkered past and virtually no family left, enrolls in the Boston police academy with the hope of becoming a state trooper while Sullivan joins as a mole to provide inside information to crime boss Frank Costello (Jack Nicholson), who's been a father figure to him since his youth.

Immediately Costigan is tapped for a deadly assignment by Capt. Queenan (Martin Sheen) and Sgt. Dignam (an inexplicably Oscar nominated Mark Wahlberg). He must infiltrate Costello's inner circle and leak information back to the cops so they can finally get something on him. Meanwhile Sullivan, who's quickly becoming the department's golden boy, is feeding police dirt back to Costello. Each are aware of the other's existence but not their identities. Complicating matters further is that both men are also, unbeknownst to one another, in love with the same woman (a psychiatrist played by Vera Farmiga).

A cat and mouse game boils throughout the film as Costigan and Sullivan come closer and closer to discovering who each other is and Costigan is always seconds away from being discovered by Costello as the mole. Every moment he's in the presence of the volatile, unhinged Costello he knows the next breath he takes could very well be his last. The tension this creates is palpable and cuts like a knife through the motion picture. At times it's as unbearable for us as it is for Costigan. Over the course of two hours, every scene, every moment and every action is building toward the inevitable confrontation between Sullivan and Costigan and the possibilty that Costello will discover Costigan's true allegiance. There are twists and turns and if you, like me, haven't seen the Infernal Affairs trilogy this is based on, you're in for some serious surprises. I've never seen a Scorsese film where the stakes were this high and believe me the actors sell all of it with everything they have.

What works best about The Departed is that everything isn't really black and white or simply about good and evil. It cuts deeper than that. Sullivan's a crooked cop feeding information to a mob boss, but he's humanized by the fact that he's really just a product of his environment. In one of the first scenes in the film we flash back to his first encounter with a young Sullivan in a diner. We see a confused little boy being taken in by a guy who really on the surface would seem to a kid to be really cool. He's charismatic, funny and generous. He just happens to kill people. Sullivan shows loyalty to the one man who would give him the time of day. What's so bad about that? It's only as the story progresses that we realize that loyality comes at the expense of his own integrity and self worth as a human being.

Throughout the film Damon has this vacant look on his face and a cold emotionless demeanor that shows us it's not even registering anywhere inside him what he's doing. No matter how bad things get he never panics and remains steadfast in his loyalty to Costello. It's scary. DiCaprio has a tough job here because he really has to give two performances. One as the screw up from the wrong side of the tracks who can't pass his police exam and the other as a terrified undercover cop who must pretend to be brave or he's dead. He has to make us feel his fear and nervousness but make us sure Costello can't. He has to give a performance playing a character who's giving a performance. How hard is that?

For a long time DiCaprio struggled to find roles that properly showcased how strong an actor he is. For a while he was pigeonholed by his youthful appearance and not taken seriously. In recent years he's done a lot to correct that image and could easily qualify as one of the best we have right now. No role has ever fit him better than this as he owns every scene and is the timebomb that makes the story tick. I think as time passes people will better appreciate the work he's done as an actor and he'll be remembered as one of the greats. And to think he's barely over thirty and his best work could be ahead.

Nicholson fans will not be dissapointed with his "should have been nominated" performance as Frank Costello. He manages to be vile, sadistic, giving, funny and dangerous all at once. This isn't just Jack hamming it up like we've been used to. He's playing a tortured soul with real motivations and it's one of his most entertaining performances (which covers a lot of ground). I have no idea why Mark Wahlberg was nominated for Best Supporting Actor over Nicholson. As a tough talking, sarcastic Boston Sergeant he pops in for a few scenes, yells and curses a lot and then leaves. Then he pops in to do it again. He nails the character and does a good job in a small, insignificant role, but it's hardly Oscar worthy. In fact I enjoyed the more subtle work of Martin Sheen as the Captain who becomes a father figure to Costigan and Alec Baldwin as the head of the task force assigned to take down Costello. Vera Farmiga (who I've never seen before this) also turns in solid, interesting work as the love interest.

I understand a lot of people had a problem with the ending of this film. I didn't. Let's just say when your movie is called The Departed there's a pretty good chance a lot of the characters are going to die. Was there one death too many? Perhaps, but I didn't feel it stretched credibility in the least given the course of events and it kept in tone with the gritty, realistic nature of the film. I thought the ending was effective and worked on the levels was intended given the story. Scorsese leaves his comfort zone a little on this film as he trades in the streets of New York for Boston and the change of location is a welcome one (even if it was mostly shot in New York it feels like Boston, which is all that matters).

Like most Scorsese pictures the soundtrack is a character and he always knows just where to sprinkle the song to get the desired impact. Here we're treated to The Rolling Stones (a Scorsese favorite), Van Morrison and Dropkick Murphy's. Even if Scorsese's work may seem repetitive at times it's tough to fault a director for making films about topics he's passionate about, especially when they're done this well. I think even Scorsese's biggest fans would be surprised how consistently entertaining this movie is and how fast it flies by.

The dangerous, heart-pounding game between the two main characters and the visceral energy DiCaprio and Damon infuse in them is where the meat of the film lies, making it one of Scorsese's most psychologically complex works. This is a movie about choices. Both good and bad. The Departed isn't a masterpiece but's it a solid four-star movie worthy of it's Best Picture nomination. It should earn its director a very well deserved and long overdue gold statue on his mantle.