Jay Roach’s political comedy couldn’t have come at a better time. Just as the U.S. is beginning to suffer from the fatigue that comes with enduring the final months of the heated presidential campaign between Mitt Romney and President Barack Obama Will Ferrell and Zach Galifianakis give us exactly what we need: a good laugh.
The Campaign stars Ferrell as Conservative Senate shoe-in Cam Newton who gets himself in a bit of a campaigning pickle – if you can call a widely publicized sexual slip-up a pickle – and prompts the powers that be (an evil duo courtesy of the always fantastic John Lithgow and Dan Aykroyd) to bring in a ringer: Marty Huggins (Galifianakis). Huggins is flanked by his two trusty pugs and spends his days giving empty trolley tours of his tiny North Carolina town – a naïve happy existence that flummoxes his former political operator of a father (Brian Cox). But once Marty’s appointed campaign manager gangster Tim (a ruthless and surprisingly hilarious Dylan McDermott) Pretty-Womans the grinning familial misfit into a standard cutthroat political candidate the messy misinformation-driven games begin.
Everything we’ve ever feared or discovered about our shiny politicians during campaign season is magnified for the sake of this 90-minute cathartic joke. Right as Romney and Obama are getting headlines for the underhanded loosely regulated practice that is the campaign commercial Ferrell and Galifianakis’ characters take the seemingly lawless practice to a wonderful hyperbolic place where having a mustache makes you a friend of Sadam Hussein and splicing quotes to blaspheme your opponent is kosher. Oh wait that last part is actually true.
This story from frequent Ferrell collaborator Adam McKay along with Chris Henchy and Shawn Harwell plays on the clichés of the campaign trail and dresses them up with baby-punching and butt-licking. Right out of the gate we’re treated to Ferrell cheating on his wife with a squealing harlot in a porta-potty. The writers have no mercy for the political world and coincidentally neither do most of us. And even as the film stretches the limits of our ability to stomach schlocky gross gags it’s not entirely uncalled for. In fact this over-the-top flick is practically an extension of the way many of us view the idea of campaigning in the U.S. – the key is abject cynicism.
Raunchy gags are the name of the game but The Campaign doesn’t shirk the necessary weight of its source material. Sure Ferrell’s requisite nude scene merits a few giggles but it’s the moments that are centered on speeches and strategy that really make the film. They’re rife with spot-on frustrated commentary about the emptiness of political speeches and promises and draped in the hilarious inflections of the films’ funnymen.
But beyond the parts that make us laugh hard enough to eke out a sideways tear The Campaign actually has something that most raunchy Ferrell comedies only purport deliver: a heart-warming gooey center. We can chalk this up to Galifianikis’ Marty who represents the political fantasy we try to believe in every election: the existence of a truly honest well-meaning politician. He’s the guy who runs on the platform that “Washington is a mess” and he actually believes he can clean it up. When Cam is running his mouth about loving America Marty is the one who actually offers up idealistic solutions. To some extent Marty is a character we’ve seen before but he’s this bright spot that keeps The Campaign from becoming a long-form rant.
In addition to Galifianakis’ lovable Marty we find gems in the form of McDermott – whose phantom-like presence throughout the film is always worth a laugh – and newcomer Katherine La Nasa as Rose Cam’s gut-wrenchingly opportunistic Barbie of a wife. Oddly enough a big name like Jason Sudeikis receives low-billing this time around and perhaps it’s because his role is a rather mild one for a man who’s solidified himself as the overgrown frat-boy du jour. Still it’s Galifianakis who carries the film and Farrell’s usual shtick that provides the platform for his character’s unavoidable goodness.
The Campaign is a surprising oddly adorable summer comedy combining the disgusting cringe-worthy visuals we’ve come to expect from a Will Ferrell flick with the brains we hope for any time we see the word “political” tied to a film.
The Roommate directed by Christian E. Christiansen is ostensibly a remake of the 1992 film Single White Female a trashily effective thriller about a woman who gradually awakes to the realization that her Stepford roommate is a actually homicidal stalker. The Roommate’s twist on the concept is to shift the setting from Manhattan and the world of 20-something yuppies to a freshman dorm at the University of Los Angeles a fictional school whose enrollment is apparently limited strictly to models and other members of the genetic aristocracy. (Seriously they couldn’t have thrown in a few nebbish tutors or tubby teacher’s assistants?)
It’s not a half-bad idea truth be told. Dorms after all are places where emotionally undeveloped young adults are herded together and forced to live on very intimate terms with people they’ve never met where personality defects are exacerbated by chronic sleep deprivation and diets heavy on caffeine alcohol and junk food. This unfortunately is the only wrinkle of inspiration to be found in The Roommate’s otherwise rote succession of stalker-flick clichés assembled in a hasty bid to capitalize on the cresting popularity of its attractive young stars.
Former Friday Night Lights star and current Jeter conquest Minka Kelly plays Sara a perky aspiring fashion designer whose only discernable flaw is a fatal blindness to the warning signs of psycho-bitch disorder a plethora of which are exhibited by her dormmate Rebecca (Gossip Girl and Country Strong star Leighton Meester) a friendly but temperamental art student pursuing a double major in Applied Batshitry.
Sara adjusts to college life well making friends excelling at schoolwork and even finding a boyfriend an eighth-year senior named Stephen (Twilight alum Cam Gigandet looking every bit the 28-year-old). All of which proves vexing to Rebecca whose interests appear restricted to 1) Sara and 2) staring menacingly at anyone who gets near Sara.
As Sara’s social life thrives Rebecca’s jealousy and infatuation deepen and her behavior becomes increasingly disturbed. What begins with simple passive aggressiveness eventually escalates to include self-mutilation threats of violence actual violence spontaneous lesbianism (but not with Sara sadly) implied kitten torture and finally murder.
How director Christiansen manages to cycle through all of these titillating elements without producing any actual titillation is something of an accomplishment. He’s held back a bit by the film’s strict PG-13 sensibility which requires us more or less to imagine the blood that Rebecca spills but he also plays things much too straight. A film like The Roommate needs a healthy dose of wry humor to make the craziness palatable to acknowledge that yes this is pretty freaking far-fetched. Part of the appeal of Single White Female was that it knew that it was cheap and tawdry and ridiculous; The Roommate unfortunately is not quite so self-aware. No film featuring a beret-clad Billy Zane as a college professor should ever take itself so seriously.