Sandra Bullock entertains as a ruthless campaign operative
By Jocelyn Noveck, National Writer
They say timing is everything — or at least a whole lot. And on several fronts, the George Clooney-produced "Our Brand is Crisis," starring Sandra Bullock as a damaged, ruthless political consultant, has absolutely perfect timing.
First, it's election season: Enough said! And second, with all the recent discussion about the need for more diverse, open-minded casting, here's a role that was originally written for a man. And happily, in retrospect, the role seems like it SHOULD have been written for a woman — for Bullock, in fact. It's a thornier, meatier role than she's had in a while, one that allows her to use her well-honed comic chops while also digging deeper into a complicated, very flawed character.
As for the film itself–directed by David Gordon Green (who's with Chelsea Pictures for spots and branded content)–it's undeniably entertaining, but a conundrum. At times, it seems like a funny and penetrating political satire along the lines of "Veep" on HBO. (Check out the amusing llama scene. Yes, we said llama.) At others, it's trying to be a much weightier morality tale (It's based on — or rather "suggested by" Rachel Boynton's 2005 documentary of the same name). At moments, these two aims mesh well enough; at others, the zig-zag effect is jarring.
Bullock is Jane Bodine, otherwise known as Calamity Jane, famous for winning elections at any cost. "The truth is what I tell the electorate the truth is," she likes to say.
When we first meet Jane, she's retired from the down-and-dirty world of politics, having been felled by a scandal involving the violation of election laws. She's living in the boondocks somewhere, making pottery. She doesn't drink or smoke anymore, and says she can finally look herself in the eye.
But, like the proverbial wizened former cop brought in for one last case, Jane is convinced to join the campaign of a failing candidate in Bolivia. It's good money, but the real reason she agrees is that an old nemesis, Pat Candy (Billy Bob Thornton, channeling James Carville — who actually did work on the 2002 Bolivian election) is already down there working for the opposition. These two are warriors to the death.
Arriving in La Paz, Jane confronts a candidate who is standoffish, elitist, and 28 points behind (Portuguese actor Joaquim de Almeida is perfect for the role, and will be readily recognized by fans of "24"). After some initial sluggishness (and slapsticky altitude sickness) her competitive juices kick in.
Observers of U.S. politics will recognize every lesson learned here; When Pat seeks to exploit Jane's candidate's short temper, resulting in the candidate punching a man, Jane stops her team from crafting an apology, and frames the punch as a sign of his no-crap approach. It's classic spin. Jane gets her guy to doff his suit jacket and roll up his sleeves. His poll numbers rise. "Our brand," Jane tells the team, "is crisis." Convince voters they're in crisis, and tell them how you're gonna save them.
The backdrop is the contentious relationship between Jane and Pat. While their byplay is entertaining, it's also frustrating. We don't learn enough about the background; it would help to know more, and sooner.
It all ends with the election, of course, but a subplot involving an idealistic young volunteer (appealing Bolivian actor Reynaldo Pacheo) keeps the film honest, as it were, with an ending aimed at making us wonder what it all was for in the first place.
An excellent supporting cast includes Anthony Mackie and the terrific Ann Dowd as fellow consultants. Yet it all rests on Bullock. She's fun to watch. Check out her priceless final remark in that llama scene. Her brand is Bullock, and it works pretty well.
"Our Brand Is Crisis," a Warner Bros release, is rated R by the Motion Picture Association of America for "language including some sexual references." Running time: 107 minutes. Two and a half stars out of four.
Carrie Coon Relishes Being Part Of An Ensemble–From “The Gilded Age” To “His Three Daughters”
It can be hard to catch Carrie Coon on her own.
She is far more likely to be found in the thick of an ensemble. That could be on TV, in "The Gilded Age," for which she was just Emmy nominated, or in the upcoming season of "The White Lotus," which she recently shot in Thailand. Or it could be in films, most relevantly, Azazel Jacobs' new drama, "His Three Daughters," in which Coon stars alongside Natasha Lyonne and Elizabeth Olsen as sisters caring for their dying father.
But on a recent, bright late-summer morning, Coon is sitting on a bench in the bucolic northeast Westchester town of Pound Ridge. A few years back, she and her husband, the playwright Tracy Letts, moved near here with their two young children, drawn by the long rows of stone walls and a particularly good BLT from a nearby cafe that Letts, after biting into, declared must be within 15 miles of where they lived.
In a few days, they would both fly to Los Angeles for the Emmys (Letts was nominated for his performance in "Winning Time" ). But Coon, 43, was then largely enmeshed in the day-to-day life of raising a family, along with their nightly movie viewings, which Letts pulls from his extensive DVD collection. The previous night's choice: "Once Around," with Holly Hunter and Richard Dreyfus.
Coon met Letts during her breakthrough performance in "Who's Afraid of Virginia Wolfe?" on Broadway in 2012. She played the heavy-drinking housewife Honey. It was the first role that Coon read and knew, viscerally, she had to play. Immediately after saying this, Coon sighs.
"It sounds like something some diva would say in a movie from the '50s," Coon says. "I just walked around in my apartment in my slip and I had pearls and a little brandy. I made a grocery list and I just did... Read More