"My god, what a magnificent permanent." |
Grade: B-
Spend a half hour watching John Stewart or Stephen Colbert, and you're likely to surmise that American politics are insane. With its curious and often infuriating mix of celebrity, special interests, and uncivil conduct, politics in good ole' U-S-of-A seems less like a path to civic engagement and more of a last stop for those poor souls with poly-sci and law degrees who had a hankering for fame but were too smart and not quite attractive or talented enough to be movie, TV, or music stars.
Thanks to shows like The Daily Show, The Colbert Report, or any number of web series or comedy specials highlighting a particularly politically charged comic, this is not news, which makes Will Ferrell and Zach Galifianakis' latest send-up of the American electoral process, The Campaign, seem a little late to the party.
Despite being about a decade late, director Jay Roach, who has jabbed at the political machine to better results with HBO movies Game Change and Recount, attacks the inanity of politics with a fervor matched only by the over-the-top antics of his leading men. Ferrell and Galifianakis play fierce and foolish North Carolina congressional seat competitors, Cam Brady and Marty Huggins, respectively. Brady, the Democratic incumbent who has been unchallenged for four terms, is the quintessential Will Ferrell dolt. He is a man possessed by an inkling of an intelligence and a boatload of false confidence that powers his ridiculous platform built on Jesus, Freedom, and America. Huggins, the same type of effete social leper Galifianakis has perfected in the Hangover series and Due Date, is a humble tour guide and family man with an unbridled love for his hometown of Hammond, a lifestyle that belies his political pedigree. When a pair of greedy industrialists (John Lithgow and Dan Akyroyd, recalling Don Ameche and Ralph Bellamy in Trading Spaces as much as the real-life Koch brothers) set their sights on building a Chinese-run factory in Hammond, Huggins is tapped to run against Brady in a election that quickly escalates into a cavalcade of shenanigans and tomfoolery topped only by the antics of real-life politicians.
Roach, Ferrell, and Galifianakis do their best to deliver a steady stream of laughs with Seth McFarlane-esque relentlessness, throwing so many jokes and gags at the audience that at least two out of ten jokes will make all but the most disaffected and cynical crack a smile. The thing about that approach is that it reeks of desperation, and when combined with the very real prospect that Ferrell and Galifianakis may both be peaking, it makes The Campaign seem even less edgy than it the creators and stars think it is. That's not to say that there are no solid laughs, just that the laughs are far less clever than the subject matter would lead the public to believe. Gags built around Huggins' peculiar family, Brady's numbskulled stumping, a drunk driving arrest, and Dylan McDermott's mafioso-like campaign manager all contribute to some genuine chortle-out loud moments. That said, much of the gags are exactly the type of over-the-top farce to be expected from Ferrell, with a dash of Galifianakis' subversive jabs to offset Ferrell's farce. Fans of either will probably be paralyzed with laughter; everybody else will probably be satiated with one or two good laughs before having enough, which should happen right around the climax.
For a 90-minute flick, The Campaign gets down right exhausting by the time things mosey around to the end of the election. By the time everything starts to wrap up, in fairly predictable fashion, the onslaught of gags, digs, and gross-outs has worn out its welcome, becoming a big screen reminder that even the best comedians lose their touch after about five years. Ferrell and Galifianakis are both at a point where their public personas have reached a saturation point (Ferrell probably more so than Galifianakis, but the bearded one is closing in fast), and their appeal in The Campaign will rest largely on your appreciation for their unique comic stylings as much as it will your tolerance for broad political satire, especially when far more pointed and impactful satire is available each night on cable for roughly less than the cost of a movie ticket. Yet, as America closes in on another Presidential election cycle, The Campaign may strike a chord with audiences who don't want to feel too insulted by watching Comedy Central's one-two punch of satirists or even something like the more inflammatory Real Talk with Bill Maher because it manages to at strike an adequate balance between broad comedy and biting satire that should make everybody in the red and blue states, with the exception of North Carolina, laugh together...for a moment.
In-Between Observations:
- Ferrell continues to lose fans in the South as the digs at North Carolinians are vaguely reminiscent of the shots at Southerners from Talladega Nights.
- Seriously, how many times can Zach Galifianakis play Alan?
- Jason Sudekis, unfortunately, fades into background as Ferrell's campaign manager, only to be outdone in the laughs department by Dylan McDermott. How did that happen?
- Ferrell's pompous Brady is a Democrat and Galifianakis' compassionate Huggins is a Republican. Shouldn't that be reversed?
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