Poorly written, subject to heavy handed metaphors and an overpowering score
Recommend to potential buyers:
no
Full review
Willie Stark is a man of the people, rising from total obscurity to high office in Depression-era Louisiana. A self-proclaimed “hick”, he pledges to make things better for those like him. Despite his idealistic beginnings, he falls prey to corruption that will lead to his downfall. Jack Burden is the young journalist hired by Stark as a fixer. But regardless of his initial misgivings, Burden is soon willing to betray everything he loves to keep Willie in power.
So another writer-director takes a spin of the pointless remake roulette wheel and decides on another bash at a book-to-screen adaptation that’s already spawned one Oscar-winning movie. I think it’s safe to say that Steven Zaillian’s version was never going to win any awards, other than one for trying my patience. All the elements are here; a heavyweight cast, a universal story with contemporary parallels, an ominous score… But Zaillian goes completely over-the-top, smothering the film in clumsy visual metaphors (you know three people are going to die because he zooms in on three crosses at the side of the road). He signposts everything – characters play constantly with guns or gaze at each other in a meaningful way. He’s too fond of overtly shadowy locations and midnight meetings that are supposed to fill you with foreboding, but are too hackneyed to feel right. Much of the film takes place during thunderous downpours or threatening storms that feel clichéd. There are ponderous blackouts that are presumably meant to give you time to consider the themes of the movie, but just make you realise you’re wasting your life by watching it. Stark’s drinking is used as a heavy-handed metaphor for his increasing corruption, as are his tawdry affairs. Zaillian shows the politician’s rise through a series of montages that may show how he reaches the top but reduces character development to meaningless stereotyping. You don’t get to see enough of his interim governership before the solids hit the air conditioning and it becomes all about damage control. You never see how the honest politician becomes slippery snake-oil salesman. It damages the dramatic impetus of the film, making the otherwise reasonable two-hour running time drag interminably, so every revelation and twist feels like hard work.
Zaillian’s screenplay makes the fatal error of focussing on Jack Burden rather than Willie Stark’s fall from grace. Sadly this makes for a far less interesting film than the 1949 version. Burden is just a poor little rich boy whose position as observer means we never get down to the real reasons for Stark’s crumbling integrity. It also means we spend too long on segues into Jack’s past and personal life that do very little to advance the story. Laying the focus on him would make sense of the bizarre final twist of the story if it was consistent and the character development of his childhood friends was more detailed. But when it arrives, it feels like a bolt from the blue that suggests narrative convenience rather than necessity. The accompanying voice-over narration is incessant and it suggests that the director doesn’t trust the audience to follow the story without being spoon-fed every iota of the plot. Clearly Zaillian has never heard a picture’s worth a thousand words because so little of the film is about taking action rather than talking. This makes it feel exceedingly long and incredibly boring.
The characterisation throughout is patchy to say the least. Stark is an oft-used stereotype of an honourable man corrupted by power. Jack spends too long observing and not enough time acting on his beliefs. His childhood friends are never fleshed out beyond the status of plot device and Sadie Burke is a standard hard-working “broad” of the period. Consequently you won’t care about any of them. The allegedly murky relationships between several characters are as clear as the nose on your face because Zaillian’s hints about them are too heavy-handed. Thus many of the plot twists are hammered out into linear and predictable narrative. The dialogue is long-winded and pompous and made all the more perplexing by the range of badly observed accents they are delivered in.
Normally I’m really impressed by Sean Penn’s performances because they are so complete and he is so focussed. But he totally miscalculates with the role of Willie Stark. For a guy that’s supposed to be a plain speaker, it’s unfortunate that Penn’s southern accent is so impenetrable, as it makes it virtually impossible to follow what he’s saying on occasion. His performance is just too big – it’s all flailing arms, shouting and paunchy slouching. There’s nothing here that feels real or truthful. A certain amount of that is down to the dreadful writing, but Penn has to shoulder some of the blame for creating this bug-eyed bogeyman of political corruption. He’s like Alistair Campbell without the charm.
Jude Law doesn’t convince as poor little rich boy Jack Burden mainly because of his awful accent from the Dick Van Dyke school of speech. It’s so distracting that it’s often impossible to tell if he’s fulfilling the needs of the role. He may be capable of playing the privileged classes, but lacks the attitudes to be a believable American. He shares no chemistry with on-screen love interest Kate Winslet and you never really buy that he’d sacrifice everything for Stark.
As Anne Stanton, Kate Winslet looks and sounds flawless, but her performance lacks depth. You don’t believe that she has a long history with Jack or that she’s really Mark Ruffalo’s sister. Ruffalo isn’t given sufficient screen-time to develop the role of Adam Stanton and spends much of his time huddled in corners looking hangdog. Anthony Hopkins is an avuncular presence as the steadfast Judge Irwin; he’s all integrity and physically as well as morally weighty. But his accent is all over the place. Patricia Clarkson is a decent smart, sassy, cynical broad, but isn’t allowed to develop the role of Sadie Burke properly. Meanwhile James Gandolfini plays yet another heavily-accented heavy-for-hire as Starke’s right-hand man Tiny.
James Horner’s certainly the composer to go to if you want loud and bombastic fare. But his heavy-handed score overpowers the movie throughout with its tolling chimes, foreboding brass and excessive percussion. There’s barely a moment when we aren’t being subjected to his self-important piano and string arrangements or brooding brass. And in combination with the incessant voice-over narration, leaves you wishing for a mute button.
“All the King’s Men” is a failed attempt at attracting Oscar attention. The direction is leaden, the pacing plodding, the writing stolid and verbose and the performances self-consciously earnest. Writer-director Zaillian neds to credit his viewers with more intelligence and let them figure out things for themselves instead of leading them by the nose throughout. It makes for an oppressive movie-watching experience that will have you checking your watch every five minutes, wishing it would just end.
More details
Soundtrack
Unmemorable
How does it compare to others by the same director?
Weak
Value for Money
Very Poor
What format are you reviewing?
Film only
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