Votez Mc Kay

Only recently does it seem like the political world has been soiled by entertainment media. HBO's "Veep", created by the satirically minded Armando Iannucci, is a brutal comedy series that details the day to day life of the vice president. Don't expect to see an all-American woman pining for a better America, because you get a narcissist hungry for power. Netflix's "House of Cards" makes politics seem as dirty as the crime world, with elected officials offing enemies left and right, utilizing corruption for the sake of unbridled authority.

In days past, there was something mystical about a candidate — the one we loved (not the Nixon of the race) seemed to be a sort of god who could do no wrong. Look at JFK, FDR; they were far from perfect, but their image, their reputation, turned them into unspeakably untouchable icons. But it seems post-Vietnam, post-Watergate, America has turned into a hotbed of negativity. We don't trust our sacred politicians like we used to. And so "The Candidate" is more relevant than ever. In 1972, the U.S. was just starting to turn into a bunch of pessimists. But now, we regard many of our elected officials in the same way we do the villain of a political thriller: evil, devilishly evil. But smart.

"The Candidate" is part black comedy, part political drama, all stitched together by an endlessly scathing screenplay and a finely tuned performance from Robert Redford. It isn't so much an emotional film as it is a witty commentary regarding the election process, and how most candidates go from freshly idealistic to power hungry after a mere few months of campaigning. The film doesn't tap into our fears in the same way "All the President's Men" did, or how "Three Days of the Condor" told us not to trust anyone sitting in office. Rather, it serves as a thought-provoker that makes us wonder if the smiles governmental hopefuls put on display are actually genuine. It's a bleak, bleak, movie, not so much because it is starkly negative but because it prefers to think that getting elected is a popularity contest, not a case of may the best man win.

Redford plays Bill McKay, a 30-ish attorney who, on a whim, decides to run for Senate. Incumbent Crocker Jarmon (Don Porter) is slated to win — McKay, you see, has been approached by political specialist Marvin Lucas (Peter Boyle), who only wants McKay to act as a Democratic figure, not as serious competition. Jarmon, after all, cannot run unopposed. McKay knows he has little by way of chance, but, knowing he has the opportunity to spread his ideals around the state, does everything he can to potentially find success. And as the son of the former governor (Melvyn Douglas), with, not to mention, good looks that have captured much of the female vote, his possibilities may be stronger than Lucas could have ever imagined. Problem is, if McKay really wants to win, he'll have to, in some ways, trade many of his morals in favor of popularity.

"The Candidate" is filmed as if it were a documentary, following McKay around until his positive nature completely breaks down and sardonic ickiness takes over. As the film begins, he is a charismatic intellect who has a way with words (he is a lawyer, after all). But by the end, he can hardly control himself from laughing attacks when faced with the bullsh-t of a television promotion. The more he campaigns, the more he becomes disgusted with the idea of politics — the officials are snakes who know how to manipulate the public. Morals, he finds out, are of little importance to his peers. Sounding good, looking good, speaking well, being agreeable, going against the grain of the now-hated person he's trying to rob the job of — those are the things that matter. You can forget about making the country a better place.

Larner's Academy Award winning screenplay hits all the right notes — not mean but wicked, funny, but not overtly so. It isn't a comedy as much as it is a drama that realizes how ridiculous campaigning is, and it cackles along with McKay's increasing concerns. There is a great little scene that finds McKay in the back of a limo, reciting old lines from previous speeches. But after each sound bite he makes a sound of disgust, whether it be a gag, a cough, or a scoff. The sequence is subtle, yet it speaks volumes; have we gotten to a point in our election process where a particular quote, a particular fragment of a speech, matters more than the overall goal of a candidate?

The film also contains one of Redford's finest performances, capturing his distinctly everyman appeal while heightening the sly humor he can easily project just by uttering a single line. He is the kind of actor that can deliver a line like "We don't have sh-t in common" and still remain likable; he is the kind of actor that can look unfazed by the presence of a cameoing Natalie Wood and not seem like a complete jerk. In "The Candidate", we don't necessarily identify with him. Instead, we jump onto his back as he maneuvers through the jangling dishonesty of the election process.

Here is a movie more interested in saying something than showcasing how great its actors are, how great its direction is. "The Candidate" doesn't move you; it causes you to think. And as the race for the presidency continually heats up these days, it is compelling viewing that has hardly aged in what it has to say.

This 1972 feature film is funny as it is scary now in the Untied States we can see it as form of prophecy.

This film stars Robert Redford in a remarkable performance as a Senatorial Candidate in California. Robert plays Bill McKay as son of a former state senator who never planned on running for public office. In fact he has never registered to vote. A political election specialist talks him into running who is expertly played by the late Peter Boyle. What both Bill McKay never thinks of at the beginning is the fact he might win. Released in 1972 the film seemed as a farce but just like the 1976 film "Network" what once seemed impossible is now "non fiction".

Natalie Wood also appears as herself.

Robert Redford, in one of his unjustly overlooked films from 1972, stars as a lawyer and the son of the former governor of the state of California in an election year where the senatorial incumbent has no competition. Peter Boyle convinces Redford to run, fully expecting and anticipating to lose, therefore being able to run on a platform of pure integrity to show how out of touch the current senator has become. But suddenly the public realizes that some fresh, younger blood with an idealistic eye might be what they truly want rather than another in a long succession of terms by the same old huckster. Melvyn Douglas also stars as Redford's father. Even though this film is almost 30 years old, the Oscar-winning screenplay by Jeremy Larner shows just how timeless the same old issues the candidate has to decide where he stands upon (abortion, the environment, health care) actually are. The script really is eye-opening, because it underlines very well the point that even if, say, Jesus Christ were to run for office today, what He would say is not as important as how and when He'd say it. Directed by Michael Ritchie (Smile, The Bad News Bears, Semi-Tough), one of the few American directors who has been able to successfully show the black humor of the strange, fetid underbelly of competition in this society. Blink and you'll miss Natalie Wood at a fund-raiser. Completely climatized to the Seventies, she looks like Donovan's aide-de-camp.

This is a film about how power, or its possibility, corrupts. Redford is fantastically subtle, and the film itself feels like a documentary which gives you an inside look into the whole process of 20th century ( and unfortunately 21st also) politics. It is "must see" for anybody who cares about politics, and questions himself on why the path to hell is padded with good intentions.

I saw this film in 1972 when it came out, and I just saw it again on cable. I am amazed at how prescient this film was. Remember, this was before Jerry Brown, the real life politician most people will think of as a counterpart to Redford's character, had not yet run for governor and was still unknown outside of California. Nixon was still in office and was about to be re-elected by a landslide. Abortion was still illegal in all 50 states, and Roe v. Wade had not yet been decided. The term "sound bite" had not yet been coined. "Spin" was something a washing machine did.

Redford plays an idealistic young storefront lawyer who is persuaded to run for the Senate as a Democrat against a Republican incumbent running for his fourth term. He feels free to speak his mind because he knows he hasn't a chance of winning. His freshness and honesty win over a lot of people favorable to his politics, and suddenly the gap closes. Now he has a chance of winning, but to do so he has to win over the "undecided voters" in the middle of the political spectrum. (Sound familiar? I'm writing this nine days before the Bush-Kerry election, and no one knows who will win.) Guess what happens? Suddenly he's not so fresh and honest anymore. And by the time he finally has a televised debate with the incumbent, he has mastered the art of the non-answer answer, that is, responding to a reporter's question by making a vague statement of his own without ever answering the question.

Fast forward to 2004. The spin doctors now run the show. This film was intended as satire and as a warning. Regrettably, it has become a prediction. 10/10