“Our
lives are more and more determined by forces that overwhelm the individual,”
remarks Senatorial candidate Bill McKay (Robert Redford) at one point in The Candidate. The same can be said of
McKay’s life, because over the course of this remarkable movie, the idealistic
young activist gets swallowed by the machine that sells politicians to the
American public. And keep in mind this sobering film was made two decades
before the emergence of the Internet as a key factor in campaigns, so the
realities to which it speaks have only become more troubling in the ensuing
years. The wild part, of course, is that The
Candidate isn’t a pure drama—it’s got a strong thread of comedy, because
the filmmakers zeroed in on the absurdity of modern American politics. This is
mainstream cinema of the highest order, blending lively entertainment and
important themes into a unique viewing experience.
The Candidate was written by Jeremy Larner, a speechwriter for
Eugene McCarthy’s 1968 presidential campaign and, incidentally, the author of
the book and screenplay for the eccentric 1971 drama Drive, He Said. Larner netted a Best Original Screenplay Oscar for The Candidate—although, inexplicably,
he’s never written another movie—and his work meshes beautifully with that of
his two plugged-in collaborators, director Michael Ritchie and star Robert
Redford. Together, the team present the fictional McKay as a keeper of the
Kennedy flame, an unapologetic liberal concerned with the troubles of
minorities and the underclass. He’s blessed and cursed with unique political
gifts, not only because he’s articulate and handsome but also because he’s the
son of a legendary Senator, John J. McKay (Melvyn Douglas).
When the story
begins, Bill is happily involved with community activism and legal aid for the
poor. He’s approached by ambitious campaign manger Marvin Lucas (Peter Boyle),
who envisions Bill as an ideal opponent for slick Republican incumbent Crocker
Jarmon (Don Porter). Naïvely (or cunningly) accepting Marvin’s line that a
Senatorial campaign can be used to air Bill’s favorite issues, Bill agrees to
run, although he’s told there’s little chance of actually winning. Then, as the
campaign gains momentum, Bill’s idealism suffers the death of a thousand cuts
when he makes compromises and softens his rhetoric into noncommittal
generalities. The magnificent tension of the story arises from the question of
whether Bill genuinely regrets the changes he’s making. As he succumbs to power
and temptation, does Bill retain his inherent goodness, or does he willingly
accede to “forces that overwhelm the individual”?
Director Ritchie, who
previously collaborated with Redford on Downhill
Racer (1969), delivers some of his career-best work here, orchestrating
complex scenes that simultaneously explore multiple dynamics, and his use of
montage to simulate the excitement and pageantry of political events is
impressive. The filmmakers also benefit from outstanding performances across
the board. Yet it’s the subtlety of The
Candidate that impresses the most, from the way Larner’s script evokes the
fraught relationships between Bill and the people in his life to the way
Redford communicates tiny nuances as they pass through his character’s mind.
The Candidate runs a bit long at 110
minutes, and the picture could have benefited from a few more jokes to arrive
at a more consistent tone. The movie is also, to be frank, a bit on the clinical side. However, these quibbles are insignificant
in the face of how many things this truly great movie gets right. The Candidate is without question among
the handful of truly essential films ever made about American politics, and
it’s a career milestone for everyone involved.
The Candidate: RIGHT ON
