Beatty's star fell dramatically with time, however. Though 1981's Reds won him an Oscar, the movie flopped at the box office, as did Dick Tracy, Love Affair, Bugsy, and of course, Ishtar. Not so coincidentally, this fall from grace coincided with the new conservatism in America. Though Hollywood's writers, directors, and actors were still be on the liberal end of the political spectrum, the moneymen who really run the show remained firmly attached to the right. And in the '80s, the moneymen reined in the more left-wing projects.
Thus, it is a matter of supreme irony that 20th Century Fox, owned by Rupert Murdoch's News Corporation, should pay for Bulworth, a true throwback to 70's American political cinema in its unapologetic liberal ideals. It is also a blessing that Bulworth is not just a political tract, but a fine movie, one of the best of the year to date. Bulworth completes a troika of political satires that have been released in 1997 and 98. The first was Barry Levinson's Wag the Dog, a cynical (using Ambrose Bierce's definition of the word) examination of the news media and how they can be manipulated to create new realities. The second was Mike Nichols's Primary Colors, a film-a-clef on the corruption fostered by the American electoral system. Both films were very enjoyable and at times very funny, with some exceptional performances (Emma Thompson as "Hillary" was ferociously good). Both shared a common failure, however, in that the final act of both films featured a muddled change of tone. Wag the Dog went surreal, while Primary Colors became a solemn musing on morality. Bulworth does maintain a consistent focus, although the very end of the film is very puzzling. Compared to its two recent forbears, however, Bulworth's lack of steam at the end is only a slight disappointment: it is the best of the three films.
The film examines Senator Jay Bulworth (Beatty), an aging, middle-of-the-road California Democrat, a one-time liberal who has adopted the more shameless campaigning techniques of the Republican party. After an all-night viewing session of his own campaign commercials, unable to eat or sleep, the Senator arranges to have himself murdered. Suddenly freed by the knowledge that death is certain, he can do or say anything he feels like, whether insulting his minority constituents, dancing all night at a club in South Central LA, or attempting to seduce the lovely young Nina (Halle Berry), a mysterious lady who joins Bulworth's entourage, sucking at a lollipop like a Lolita for the 90's.
Gradually, Bulworth's message changes from mere bombast into a recapturing of his lost ideals of a quarter-century before. Though perhaps it is a bit far-fetched to believe that voters would so willingly accept true liberalism after the slightly-altered Republican ideas that have been a sorry substitute for liberalism the past two decades, it is fascinating to see a movie that wears those ideas so explicitly on its sleeve.
Though Bulworth's staff (including Oliver Platt as a Stephanopoulos-esque worrier) thinks that the old man has gone 'round the bend, they cannot deny that he seems to be onto something. Bulworth himself finally recovers his appetite, and after entering the ghetto and putting on a hip-hop persona (not as grotesque as it sounds), finally learns to sleep again. Although I didn't think the ending was ideal, it certainly did feel like a 70's-movie style ending.
Perhaps the main problem with the film is that, other than Bulworth himself, all the actors in the film seem to be playing abstractions rather than characters, especially Amiri Baraka (a.k.a. LeRoi Jones, the writer of Dutchman) as a poetic homeless man. Beatty, however, is marvelous as the senator who is aging badly, coming to grips with the fact that his life is a hollow lie, but proceeds to seize the day when he believes he is about to die.
Beatty is saying that all is not well in America, and neither political party, as presently constituted, can save us. Agree with that statement or not, the movie is still a fascinating fantasia on themes from the sixties and seventies, resurrected in our own times.
Three-and-a-half stars
Copyright 1998 by Dale G. Abersold
