PRIMARY COLORS (Universal) Starring: John Travolta, Emma Thompson, Adrian Lester, Billy Bob Thornton, Kathy Bates, Maura Tierney, Paul Guilfoyle, Larry Hagman. Screenplay: Elaine May, based on the novel by Anonymous. Producer: Mike Nichols. Director: Mike Nichols. MPAA Rating: R (profanity, adult themes) Running Time: 143 minutes. Reviewed by Scott Renshaw.
Just so there's no confusion: Jack Stanton (John Travolta), the "fictional" scandal-plagued Democratic presidential candidate whose campaign is the subject of PRIMARY COLORS, is Bill Clinton. His ambitious wife Susan (Emma Thompson) is our First Lady. Stanton's home-state buddy and campaign strategist Richard Jemmons (Billy Bob Thornton) is James Carville. The waffling, never-seen Italian-American governor of New York, called Orlando Ozzio here, is Mario Cuomo. And for that matter, the "Anonymous" author of the best-selling novel on which PRIMARY COLORS is based is actually former "Newsweek" writer Joe Klein.
It's ironic that Klein could tell a story about the effect of scandal-mongering on American politics only by creating a bit of scandal himself, that he could uncover a few brutal truths only by hiding a few. It's even more ironic that the film version of PRIMARY COLORS appears just as President Clinton finds himself entangled in new scandals, virtually guaranteeing that most coverage of the film will both miss the point entirely and help make the film's point for it. PRIMARY COLORS isn't simply a chance to giggle at Clinton's foibles without naming him. This is a story about giggling at foibles masquerading as serious news, about a political process which has become a seemingly endless cycle of mud-slinging and spin control because we continue to create an audience for it.
In that sense, it's a very similar story to the recent WAG THE DOG, though simultaneously more human and more cynical. PRIMARY COLORS unfolds through the eyes of Henry Burton (Adrian Lester), an up-and-coming campaign pro desperately seeking a candidate worthy of his admiration. Burton begins to develop what Jemmons calls "True Believer-ism" as Stanton's campaign progresses, convinced that this is a candidate with vision and a genuine desire to help others. As revelation builds upon revelation, however, the questions he has to ask himself grow ever more troubling. Does it matter that this man who wants to do so much for the country seems to be doing it one woman at a time? Do the ends of getting into office where you can do some good justify the means of slinging even more mud at the opponent than he slings at you? And how can you make ideas worth anything in a culture where viewers watch an interview with the Stantons and can only comment that Susan "should wear her hair longer."
PRIMARY COLORS the movie manages to wrap all of the novel's tough questions and roman-a-clef characters into a surprisingly funny and entertaining package. Though the running time of nearly 2-1/2 hours feels excessive near the end, director Mike Nichols crafts so many sharp comic scenes that the film never becomes a tedious political science lecture. He also gets one particularly dynamic performance from a generally solid cast -- Kathy Bates as Libby, the Stanton's borderline-loony long-time friend and the campaign's designated "Dust-Buster" (because she's "tougher than dirt"). Though the role initially seems like just a minor variation on Bates' brassy, no-nonsense characters in DOLORES CLAIBORNE, THE LATE SHIFT or TITANIC, Libby eventually develops into the real soul of PRIMARY COLORS: the last true idealist, a woman whose very sanity depends on the notion that there has to be a better way to select those who will lead us.
Of course, another performance will draw far more attention, which is precisely why PRIMARY COLORS couldn't possibly work as well on film as it does on the page. Without a face, Jack Stanton is a complex and sympathetic character study representing a wide-spread problem. The moment John Travolta appears on screen with his salt-and-pepper pompadour, the titters begin; the moment he opens his mouth and begins his sandpaper drawl of a Clinton impression, the full-fledged laughs begin. As effective as Elaine May's script may be -- and Travolta's performance, for that matter -- plenty of viewers will simply gape at PRIMARY COLORS in tabloid fascination, thinking of it as THE BILL CLINTON STORY. There's a sad lesson behind the laughs in PRIMARY COLORS, one you'll be able to spot in reviews and reactions colored by the lenses of Intern-Gate, Grope-Gate, or any other Gate: we're getting exactly the leaders we deserve when we refuse to make their messages matter, and all we can do is throw up an endless series of Gates in front of them.
On the Renshaw scale of 0 to 10 counterfeit Bills: 8.
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