In 'Bulworth,' Change Rocks the Vote

Jason Pyles Movie Critic

O Masterpiece
X Excellent
O Good
O OK
O Mediocrity
O Avoid

The most popular buzzword during a presidential campaign may be change. Much like New Year's Eve, when it comes to looking for a new president, we tend to gravitate toward "out with the old, in with the new." This phenomenon of human nature is healthy for our country, both politically and physically, if we can stick to our newfound commitments.

Sen. Barack Obama's campaign features the slogan, "Change We Can Believe In" on his Web site, campaign signs and television ads. Obama's clarion call is arguably his mission to "bring about real change in Washington," as quoted on his site.

Obama's catch phrase seems to be catching on, too. He has drawn massive support from younger voters by beaming his message of change as the center of his campaign. And, of course, there’s his inevitable appeal to many black Americans. Oh, and I couldn’t forget Obama playfully showing off his dance moves on national television. All of the above adds up and calls to mind one film: Bulworth (1998).

This is not to say that the fictitious Democratic Sen. Jay Bulworth is a perfect caricature of Obama but, both Midwest senators simply have parallels. For instance, Bulworth is a facilitator of change, much like Obama has promised to be. Bulworth is quite popular with younger voters, much like Obama seems to be. Bulworth has a special appeal to black Americans, as does Obama. And Bulworth even shows off a few dance moves of his own.

To be clear, when I mention Obama’s “inevitable appeal, I’m not claiming that black Americans will vote for Obama solely because he's black. But surely we can concede that some Mormons were pulling for Mitt Romney because he is a Mormon and some women are rooting for Hillary Clinton because she is a woman, and indeed, some black people will be leaning toward Obama because he is black.

Hopeful and progressive thinkers (and even the candidates themselves) try to downplay the tendency to only vote for one’s own race/gender/religion, but let's be honest: This is reminiscent of the student council candidates' speeches from high school. You know, those speeches where the most popular kids would emphatically remind you that the election wasn't based on a popularity contest, and in truth, that's all it was--a popularity contest. In other words, just as the popular kids didn’t refuse any votes won from their popularity, our 2008 candidates won’t turn away votes won due to racial, gender, or religious similarities, either.

Speaking of popularity, if you haven't seen Bulworth, one of the most popular films of 1998, then I recommend it, because it's excellent … mostly. Warren Beatty, whom you will remember from Dick Tracy (1990) and Bonnie and Clyde (1967), not only starred in this film, but he also directed, wrote the story and co-wrote the screenplay. And to say taking a role like this was brave, especially for a 60-year-old veteran actor, is a gross understatement. Truly, Beatty's Bulworth could have been a career-ender. Instead, it only affirms the man's talents.

The film is set in March, 1996. It is the time of the California primaries, and incumbent Senator Bulworth (Warren Beatty) is beginning his final weekend of his campaign to return to the U.S. Senate for "yet another term."

But Bulworth is miserably unhappy with his political career, so he hires a hitman to kill him after arranging a $10 million life insurance policy for his family's comfort. As he nervously awaits the unknown moment of his self-solicited death, Bulworth must continue to make his scheduled stops along the campaign trail.

Free from consequences and having nothing to lose, Bulworth's apathy transforms him into a brutally honest politician. When asked about the federal funding that was promised for rebuilding Los Angeles after the 1992 riots, Bulworth casually replies, "Well, what happened was, we all knew that was going to be big news for a while—so we all came down here, Bush, Clinton, Wilson, all of us. We got our pictures taken, told you what you wanted to hear, and we pretty much forgot about it."

Bulworth continues with similarly shocking candor at each stop, accompanied by complete media coverage. Oddly, Bulworth takes an interest in the hip-hop underworld and gangsta rap and begins to imitate O.G.s (original “gangstas”) who subscribe to a street-smart lifestyle. Such is evident in the movie's popular theme song "Ghetto Superstar" performed by Pras, Ol' Dirty Bastard and Mya. The formerly straight-laced senator takes on a new persona where he's constantly freestyle rapping and spewing forth profanity and vulgarity. Bulworth busts rhymes, but not like Dr. Dre, more like Dr. Seuss. (Think Vanilla Ice but worse.)

And it is precisely here where Bulworth goes astray, which is why I wrote that the movie is mostly excellent. Granted, the film is a comedy, but Beatty's brave attempt to commit to this fish-out-of-water material is a little overboard, more ridiculous than funny. Indeed, Bulworth's drastic transformation into a hip hop "brotha" is far too unlikely a switch for this character. Nevertheless, the film still works, because all the peripheral characters play their roles straight. And I would note that at times, Beatty seems to be emulating Jack Nicholson’s usual screen persona. Strange but true.

Speaking of the satellite characters, Bulworth has a dynamic cast, including Don Cheadle who plays L.D., the local drug lord. Also, Halle Berry plays Nina, Bulworth's complex companion. And perhaps best of all (certainly funniest of all) is Oliver Platt, who plays Bulworth's exasperated campaign chief, Dennis Murphy. Bulworth is worth watching for Platt's performance alone.

Overall, this film is intelligent and knowing, but I just couldn't figure out one thing: Bulworth is clearly a mocking commentary on American politics, big business and the general population of the United States. But at the same time, Bulworth also seems to condescend and look down its nose at a stereotyped subset of inner-city black Americans. I wonder if Beatty intended black people to be collateral damage in his comedic campaign to smear politics.

Bulworth, a movie about a politician who starts keeping his promises, uses humor to show us the vast chasm between rhetoric and reality. Why is it that a person with tact, versatile oratory skill and social intelligence is often compared to a "silver-tongued" politician? Is it because we’re accustomed to hearing rhetoric, the artificial eloquence from our leaders-to-be that delivers empty promises, much like the pre-suicidal Bulworth?

This movie’s politician undergoes a true change, the kind of change historically promised in campaign speeches. Bulworth begins addressing his constituency with reality, not rhetoric. As this election year marches forward, I hope we’re getting to glimpse some Bulworths, politicians who tell it to us straight. And, I suppose if any of the candidates start rapping, we’ll know we’re on our way.

Directed by Warren Beatty
Warren Beatty / Halle Berry / Oliver Platt
Comedy | 108 min.
MPAA: R (for pervasive strong language and some drug content)

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