Vice (Adam McKay, 2018) (Patreon)

DO NOT READ UNTIL CHRISTMAS!

Maybe Adam McKay is the Brechtian filmmaker we deserve. I found myself gritting my teeth through Vice, even though by any objective standard it's a very "watchable" film. It moves at a nice clip, has a compelling antihero at its center, and condenses forty years of American history into a small, digestible capsule. But that's part of the problem. Much like The Big Short assumed a viewer who had never given any thought whatsoever to the 2008 financial crisis, Vice is made for a hypothetical Joe Lunchpail whose awareness of politics extends only as far as being able to name the last few presidents, and maybe our last couple of wars.

So everything is boiled down to shorthand and clever images. McKay is a more skillful Michael Moore in that regard. For example, when he shows the election of Jimmy Carter and the installation of solar panels atop the White House, you know it's only so he can show their removal upon Reagan's arrival at 2600. He makes sure to show "George Jr." (Sam Rockwell) drunk and disorderly, and have multiple characters make mention of Jeb Bush's bright political future, just to remind us of the irony that Dubya became Bush 43. And McKay actually cross-cuts between Cheney's heart transplant and his direction to daughter / congressional candidate Liz to come out against gay marriage, despite promises to daughter Mary (Alison Pill) never to do so. A literal change of heart. Sigh.

If you're itching to see Dick Clarke's warnings about al Qaeda ignored again, or Colin Powell (Tyler Perry, credited twice) shamed into lying in front of the U.N., or really any of the Neo-Cons' Greatest Hits, it's all here, with a little bit of Nixon / Ford background for good measure. In making Cheney look like a mastermind, McKay goes a bit overboard making Rumsfeld (Steve Carell) look like a crass, opportunistic idiot. But I guess there's only room for one Darth Vader in a movie this...basic. And yes, Christian Bale looks and sounds just like him. Oscar chatter for Amy Adams' Lynne is strictly of the "she hasn't won yet?" variety.