“The Ides of March” is an excellent film about the kind of politics we like to forget about when things are good, and grumble about when the going gets tough. As the political and financial climates of our nation are currently anything but stable, it is also a very timely exploration of what makes our system, though well-intentioned, fundamentally imperfect.
We know George Clooney mostly as an actor – and a good one at that. He has been recognized with literal hosts of awards and nominations. Few to none of us are familiar with Clooney as a director, but it is his keen dramatic sense that makes him successful both in front of and behind the camera.
His most important dramatic decision here is to make the major public players in a political campaign incidental, and focus on the men and women who work tirelessly to make sure that the figure they support wins as many votes as possible. Whether we like it or not, it is really these workers that decide the future of our country. The decisions they make regarding a campaign can make or break policy for their employer, the man running. And, most dangerously, they are human - not motivated by conviction or belief but by their need to work, and sometimes their desire for advancement. Politics is not a civic duty for them; it is a job.
Steven Myers, played by Ryan Gosling, would disagree at the first. “Politics is my life,” he exclaims at one point. He is a self-professed true believer in the democratic system and Governor Mike Morris (George Clooney), whom he represents. He is also, I believe, lying to himself, and the film is about the discovery within his person of a hidden vein of ruthlessness and selfish disregard for common decency.
We can see it dimly at first, in his eagerness to spread potentially unfounded rumors about an opposing candidate and to enter an ill-advised physical relationship with a young intern (he’s 30; she’s 20). An opening monologue in which he jokingly lampoons Morris’ statements during set-up for a debate strikes a chilling note as we realize that perhaps, deep down, he doesn’t really think he’s being funny.
Then, one day, Steven is contacted by the opposing campaign’s manager, Tom Duffy (Paul Giamatti). He is not supposed to have any contact with “enemy” campaign figures, but something drives him to attend a secret meeting with the other man, which he then lies about to Morris’ senior campaign advisor (Philip Seymour Hoffman). From there, his path is a downward spiral, and almost everyone is tied to it, however unwittingly.
Ironically, it is Steven’s apparent amorality that makes him such a brilliant political mind, and it is here that the film reveals its primary thesis. Mike Morris is a good, but imperfect, man. Steven, in contrast, is a bad man, but a perfect political machine. He is unfit to lead the country, but his decisions eventually make it impossible for Morris to succeed in his campaign without making terrible compromises. His nature indirectly becomes the nature of America. And he is in the game, at long last, only for himself – for his income, for his advancement, and for his future.
Thrillers about dirty politics have been done before, and “The Ides of March” stops shy of greatness simply because it is a latecomer on the scene. It has nothing really groundbreaking to say, even if it does hint at dark secrets that we all know about but so often wish to gloss over. It achieves excellence because it is flawless in its craft and footwork. The cinematography: textbook, exactly what it needs to be to produce the appropriate tone, and then some – Clooney and his director of photography produce some fascinating multi-layered shots that are pregnant with subtext. The writing, adapted from a play entitled “Farragut North”: subtle and sharp. The acting: spot on. The film is a cogent examination of the motivations behind the grandstanding and the speeches. No wonder the country is broken, it says. It is run by broken people.
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