Tags
Drama, Evan Rachel Wood, Farragut North, George Clooney, Marisa Tomei, Paul Giamatti, Phillip Seymour Hoffman, politics, Ryan Gosling, The Ides of March, Thriller
This is a quiet thriller that gets a lot of mileage out of a raised voice and a stern glare. It understands the inherent makeup of equal parts comedy and tragedy within the broken, present state of politic gamesmanship. You never laugh out loud, but you very often shake your head with resigned, sad, human comedy, all the while being riveted with dramatic gamesmanship.
The basic framework of the story is in following the last days of the campaign of Governor Morris (George Clooney) and his staff, chiefly Paul Zara (Phillip Seymour Hoffman) and Stephen Meyers (Ryan Gosling), leading up to the Democratic Primary. The focus on the story is narrow, choosing instead to allow the decisions which these characters make have the far reaching effects. We care more by hearing about the effect of a decision made, rather than seeing those repercussions. It’s the off screen effect. It works just as well in drama as it does in horror.
I appreciate the small scale of this film, a direct result of its origins as the play, ‘Farragut North’ by Beau Willimon. It tailors its script down like clockwork, so that every scene involves an actor of weight and a scene of ultimate importance. These scenes stack atop one another under crushing weight, and never allowing Goslings character any other choice but to grow into someone he doesn’t want to be.
At times the dialogue, and delivery of it, is remarkable in how the characters never take things personally. They act out of their job title, but not out of their personal wounds. That’s the game that Gosling has to learn to play in order to survive. No one says exactly what they mean, they don’t leave their intentions in the air along with their speechifying. It’s reading between the lines of the lines, this is chess on a national scale, you always have to see 10 moves in advance. The dialogue also has a great ability to say things, without really saying them out loud. Pay attention to a key confessional scene between Gosling’s character and the intern, Molly, played invitingly and sweetly by Evan Rachel Wood. The confession is clear, but the words never really add up in clarity. It’s confusing to think about, until you hear it for yourself. The film is masterful in how it manipulates language. The harshest example is a closing piece where Gosling refers to another character as, ‘his best friend’. In the context of the film, it kind of breaks your heart.
The term “Ides of March” refers to the middle of the month in the Roman calender, in this case March. In the modern era it also refers to the date in which Julius Caesar was killed in 44 B.C., having been stabbed to death, 23 times, in the Roman Senate by a group of conspirators and 60 other possible co-conspirators. One can draw obvious conclusions as to the metaphor which Clooney is playing with here, to a date where loyalty and trust die for the greater good.
The film is starkly and beautifully photographed by Phedon Papamichael, with cutting, direct light, and unforgiving close-ups. The most brutal and draining shot being an extreme close-up of Goslings eyes through his rain washed windshield, as he realizes the full weight of what has gone on around him, and his ultimate complicity in them as well. The shot reminded me of the classic confessional scene from “In Cold Blood”, as Robert Blake’s character tells his story and the light casts rain washed patterns across his face, crying for him. In Gosling’s case he never knew he was guilty until this very moment.
Gosling has grown, not just into a fine actor, but into an actor of weight. One that can carry a film without flashing it with movie star shine. He fits in with the ace character actors on display here; Hoffman, Paul Giamatti, Marisa Tomei and Evan Rachel Wood, but he also leads the film. That duality is partly an actors cross to bear and partly a directors. That’s their greatest collaboration in populist filmmaking. Clooney uses his stardom, as an actor, to a remarkable reverse effect. He knows his visual presence has weight in the world now, so he keeps his character off screen for almost the entire film. At times even when he’s on screen, the camera is focusing elsewhere. He’s the great enigma to the audience. We trust the characters as they follow him, but we’re never given the chance to form our own opinions. The way Clooney holds us back from the real Morris at times mirrors the spin that is given to real life politicians in the race for gold. Nothing is real in the public arena, it’s illusions upon illusions. Reflections in a hall of mirrors.
The final shot of the film reminded me instantly of another difficult and quiet drama, “A Civil Action”. The final shot of John Travolta in court, his mind swirling with the inability to answer the very simple and direct question posed by Kathy Bates’ judge, “What happened?” Similarly the finale of “Ides of March” resonates, but for slightly different reasons.
Sometimes words fail us. Sometimes they’re not enough to describe how we became who we are.
