In the real world Hanson would never become president (she doesn't in the film, either, but it's hinted that she might in the future). That she's a woman is the least of her problems. Her real obstacles are, in ascending order: being a trifle too clear-headed, being honest, and being an atheist. (Actually it's the last two together that damn her.) And that's why the film is so good. The plot requires a candidate with unfashionable beliefs and integrity, and the script has the guts to actually give her both. The speeches in this film - all of them - were clearly written by people who took the time to try to understand what people who say such things believe, and why.
This is not a simplistic film, whatever you may have been told. Nor are the characters simplistic. How does one tell if a character has been poorly developed? Most people employ the completely unreliable "black and white" test: measure a character's goodness; if it is higher than some arbitrary level, the character is too good; if it is lower than some other arbitrary level, the character is too evil. This is a ridiculous way to think, even subconsciously. There's no reason WHATEVER, in ANY kind of fiction, why a character shouldn't be very good or very bad, or why the entire fictional world shouldn't be populated by people who are one or the other. The real test we should employ is this: does the character's motivation make sense? And the answer, in this film, is yes. In every case yes. -I've heard people say otherwise, but never convincingly. I've heard it said (for instance) that we don't know why the president never asks Hanson to stand down, when in fact it's made perfectly clear to anyone paying attention: he's stubborn, he wants her, and - this is the more subtle point - he half realises all along that he would demean himself by doing so. Whether such considerations would weigh with actual presidents is beside the point, since it's perfectly believable that they'd weigh with HIM.
The film makes but four mistakes worth remarking upon, only one or two of which matter. The camerawork could be improved. Lurie decided to go with the camera-following-the-characters documentary approach, which is never a good idea - but he drops this foolish affectation in all the important scenes, so we can forgive him. And the president's speech at the end... in real life, I know, he would wrap himself even more in the flag and make even less sense, but we, the audience, ought to have been given something better. Still, what matters is THAT he gave the speech, not what in particular he said in it. So we can forgive THAT. -Then there's this: Hanson does finally confess to someone what really happened on the night in question. No reason why she shouldn't; but WE should not have been told what happened. The point of the film is that it doesn't matter; and if it doesn't matter, we needn't be told. I, for one, wasn't even curious.
As for the fourth mistake...
Runyon's nefarious plan seems to go off without a hitch, and Lurie is savage on a political process that would allow this to happen, but two elements of that process escape close scrutiny: the press, and the public. (The latter, indeed, escapes all scrutiny.) Runyon leaks his dirt to the press, who dutifully make hay of it, in order to morally outrage the public, who are dutifully outraged. His plan would have failed had either press or public refused to cooperate. How does the PUBLIC, in particular, escape blame? In a democracy - even one with an electoral system as absurd as that of the United States - the electorate cannot deny responsibility for the way its representatives behave. Why does nobody in the film criticise Joe Voter, or Joe Tabloid-Buyer?
I confess to not minding THIS lapse very much (even though it's something I feel strongly about). The film is generally so much more intelligent than you'd expect it to be. Look, for instance, at the way Hanson's interrogation is structured. Anyone can see how clever Runyon is in laying political snares, but only Hanson can see how unintentionally clever he is in laying MORAL snares. (She isn't caught by any of the latter, but she IS grazed.) It's really two interrogations at once, and only she - and the audience - can see them both.
This is not a simplistic film, whatever you may have been told. Nor are the characters simplistic. How does one tell if a character has been poorly developed? Most people employ the completely unreliable "black and white" test: measure a character's goodness; if it is higher than some arbitrary level, the character is too good; if it is lower than some other arbitrary level, the character is too evil. This is a ridiculous way to think, even subconsciously. There's no reason WHATEVER, in ANY kind of fiction, why a character shouldn't be very good or very bad, or why the entire fictional world shouldn't be populated by people who are one or the other. The real test we should employ is this: does the character's motivation make sense? And the answer, in this film, is yes. In every case yes. -I've heard people say otherwise, but never convincingly. I've heard it said (for instance) that we don't know why the president never asks Hanson to stand down, when in fact it's made perfectly clear to anyone paying attention: he's stubborn, he wants her, and - this is the more subtle point - he half realises all along that he would demean himself by doing so. Whether such considerations would weigh with actual presidents is beside the point, since it's perfectly believable that they'd weigh with HIM.
The film makes but four mistakes worth remarking upon, only one or two of which matter. The camerawork could be improved. Lurie decided to go with the camera-following-the-characters documentary approach, which is never a good idea - but he drops this foolish affectation in all the important scenes, so we can forgive him. And the president's speech at the end... in real life, I know, he would wrap himself even more in the flag and make even less sense, but we, the audience, ought to have been given something better. Still, what matters is THAT he gave the speech, not what in particular he said in it. So we can forgive THAT. -Then there's this: Hanson does finally confess to someone what really happened on the night in question. No reason why she shouldn't; but WE should not have been told what happened. The point of the film is that it doesn't matter; and if it doesn't matter, we needn't be told. I, for one, wasn't even curious.
As for the fourth mistake...
Runyon's nefarious plan seems to go off without a hitch, and Lurie is savage on a political process that would allow this to happen, but two elements of that process escape close scrutiny: the press, and the public. (The latter, indeed, escapes all scrutiny.) Runyon leaks his dirt to the press, who dutifully make hay of it, in order to morally outrage the public, who are dutifully outraged. His plan would have failed had either press or public refused to cooperate. How does the PUBLIC, in particular, escape blame? In a democracy - even one with an electoral system as absurd as that of the United States - the electorate cannot deny responsibility for the way its representatives behave. Why does nobody in the film criticise Joe Voter, or Joe Tabloid-Buyer?
I confess to not minding THIS lapse very much (even though it's something I feel strongly about). The film is generally so much more intelligent than you'd expect it to be. Look, for instance, at the way Hanson's interrogation is structured. Anyone can see how clever Runyon is in laying political snares, but only Hanson can see how unintentionally clever he is in laying MORAL snares. (She isn't caught by any of the latter, but she IS grazed.) It's really two interrogations at once, and only she - and the audience - can see them both.