Review: Bulworth

​1996. The weekend before California's senatorial primaries. Incumbent Jay Billington Bulworth (Warren Beatty) sits in his office slumped, rumpled, sleepless, unsettled. A former idealist now completely subsumed by the political machine, Bulworth has come face to face with what he has become. Disgusted and despondent, he decides to take a contract out on his own life.

Then something strange happens. The burdens crumble and suddenly Bulworth is reinvigorated. Perhaps even reincarnated. The truth starts tumbling out of his mouth. Tossing away his intended speech at a black church, Bulworth instead tells them: "If you don't put down that malt liquor and chicken wings and get behind somebody other than a running back who stabs his wife, you're never going to get rid of somebody like me." Everyone and everything becomes a target for Bulworth's brand of truth-telling: plutocrats, insurance companies, whites, blacks, reporters, Republicans, Democrats, the media. And for much of the movie, the truth is told in rap.

Warren Beatty rapping. Is there not a more outrageous sight gag in the movies today? How about Beatty decked out in homeboy gear? Or Beatty trying to create some chemistry with Halle Berry, who costars as a ghetto girl moved by Bulworth's ramblings?

Unfortunately, Beatty's sudden impulse to make a complete fool of himself overshadows his ingenious and, at times, ingenuous screenplay. His script is a throwback to the kind of 1930s and 1940s social comedies Preston Sturges and Frank Capra used to do with such facility. It also serves as an homage to Beatty's own heyday: the 1970s, which brought Francis Ford Coppola, Steven Spielberg, George Lucas, and Martin Scorsese to the front ranks of American filmmaking, was Hollywood's second Golden Age. Social and political films like Network, The China Syndrome, and All the President's Men were common fare. Bulworth, with its attack on corporate owned politicians, would have been right at home.

The film, however, cannot compare to the works of either Sturges or Capra. Sturges aimed for the jugular and Capra tugged at the heart; both tickled your funny bone while sending their message. Bulworth does not possess a consistent zip. The film loses steam very quickly. It's as though Beatty thought the concept could carry the film.

Beatty surrounds himself with a first-rate cast, then proceeds to waste their talents. Only Oliver Platt, as Bulworth's discombobulated chief handler, shines. His scene with the ubiquitous Larry King is a highlight. Beatty himself sleepwalks through his role. I don't quite blame him. Beatty can be phenomenally alive -- one hopes his searing performance in 1991's Bugsy isn't his last hurrah -- but he tends to be a reticent and somewhat narcissistic actor; think of Gary Cooper mixed with Don Juan. Bulworth is a caricature and how can anyone play what is essentially a human running gag?

One note of curiosity: I'd like to know what the African-American community has to say about this film. They seem to be Beatty's main concern but, in my estimation, he seems to treat them rather poorly. However, equality does prevail: they're as stereotypical and one-dimensional as the rest of the characters in the film.

Bulworth

Directed by: Warren Beatty

Written by: Warren Beatty, Jeremy Pikser

Starring: Warren Beatty, Halle Berry, Don Cheadle, Sean Astin, Christine Baranski, Oliver Platt, Nora Dunn, Paul Sorvino, Wendell Pierce, Laurie Metcalf, Isaiah Washington, Jack Warden