For the non-experts, "pezzonovante" is a direct reference to the Sicilian word used in "The Godfather" to describe a senator, governor, or any upstarts or ambitious newcomer on the political field (basically, what Vito Corleone wanted for his son, Michael)
I chose this title because in 1973, the two Oscars for Best Screenplay went to "The Godfather" and "The Candidate". Although they play in different leagues, both screenplays bear interesting similarities through the implicit statements they make about the limits of the American Dream and the ideals that supposedly forged it. Indeed, no matter how charismatic they are, there's something rotten in a country that allows such figures as Michael Corleone and Bill McKay to succeed.
My judgment might be severe but it's a credit to Robert Redford's extraordinary performance. Sometimes, we're put in the electors' shoes and see him like a handsome and idealistic patriot, eager to raise the voice of American social outcasts and sometimes we remember, as parts of the sideshow, that these are the very reasons he was picked by his friend, Marvin Lucas (Peter Boyle) to represent the Democrat party despite his blatant lack of experience.
And what's the catch for McKay? The film reveals its cynical and interesting premise when Boyle writes in a matchbox his only guarantee: "you will lose". The point of his candidature is not to undermine a Democrat potential leader's career and yet provide a realistic opponent to the Republican, the much popular Crocker Jarmon. The certitude of the defeat is compensated by a symbolical victory: McKay has all freedom to spread his values, share his vision and gain some publicity. Seems like a win-win situation.
McKay accepts, not without reluctance and more driven by the surrounding enthusiasm, starting with his wife who enjoys her new 'first lady' etiquette. But there's something we know about the American political machine, once you put your foot in, there's no way getting back. And the irony with McKay is that his political carelessness and lack of true ambitious will catch the eyes and ears of Democrats, by inspiring a more genuine and less generic form of political expression, precisely what the public needed. "The Candidate" brilliantly points out the effect of good merchandising in politics. Like a product, McKay has the looks, the message and also, the brand.
The name is in fact the film's subplot, involving McKay's father, a not-so popular veteran politician played by Melvyn Douglas. The reporters notice that the father never endorses his son's candidature, but McKay pretends it's a way to assess his independence. However, after a severe drop in polls that would have foreshadowed a total humiliation, McKay wins a debate against Jarmon at the last minute thanks to a genuine reaction rejecting the hypocritical aspect of a confrontation that dodged the real issues. Jarmon is upset, McKay wins, then McKay Sr. blesses him with the greatest compliment he could ever give him "son, you're a politician".
Jeremy Larner, who was a speech writer for the Democrat Eugene McCarthy and then can be trusted in terms of accuracy, wrote the script. It isn't just a fictionalization of a true story but a gutsy political pamphlet that hasn't lost its relevance. And if we don't remember McCarthy, we do remember the former President who hadn't done much for the country, yet compensated his lack of accomplishment thanks to his father's aura, and used Christian idiosyncrasies to please the crowds. Bush Jr. was no less a puppet than McKay, but he won, and the pages he wrote might not be regarded as the greatest chapter of American history.
And since he was elected, I guess "The Candidate" failed as a warning, and this is why I blame the film for not having been more 'thought-provoking' and 'entertaining'. The script was great, the performance of Redford as a man torn between his sincere ideals and his conviction that he's a fraud get thrillingly palpable as the film progresses. Peter Boyle, Michael Lerner and Allen Garfield are absolutely scene-stealing as the show's ringleaders, and Natalie Wood's lovable cameo gave the ultimate touch of authenticity. Apart from that, the result is rather forgettable, lacking that spice we expect from a political satire.
"The Candidate" could have been on the same prophetic wit as "Network", "Wag the Dog" or "A Face in the Crowd" but the film was as frustrating as McKay struggling during his speeches. Jeremy Larner might have won an Oscar, but a Paddy Cheyefsky he ain't. And unfortunately, the real highlight of the film happens to be the ending with the unforgettable "what do we do now?" that leaves Lucas, and the viewers, speechless. The film was so full of awkward painful-to-watch moments (can you imagine anything worse than a politician being speechless?), fitting the film's anticlimactic realism but so frustrating for viewers who expect a few explosive outbursts.
Redford remains an eternal enigma as a man we never quite see what goes on his mind, on TV or during a speech, challenging our patience but not rewarding it until the end, when he's put in the position he couldn't cheat anymore. I didn't know what he was going to do, but I guess I was glad they finally closed that door before we'd know. And that last minute gets me back to "The Godfather", again. The two films had similar opening and ending: one defeat speech from men who hadn't the stuff to 'win the game' and a door closing on the 'winner'.
As if Crime and politics were the two evil twins of power in America, except that the first door was closed on an intimate room while the second left the protagonist with the public. And I'm not quite sure which is worse: fooling the law in secrecy or fooling the public in total openness?
I chose this title because in 1973, the two Oscars for Best Screenplay went to "The Godfather" and "The Candidate". Although they play in different leagues, both screenplays bear interesting similarities through the implicit statements they make about the limits of the American Dream and the ideals that supposedly forged it. Indeed, no matter how charismatic they are, there's something rotten in a country that allows such figures as Michael Corleone and Bill McKay to succeed.
My judgment might be severe but it's a credit to Robert Redford's extraordinary performance. Sometimes, we're put in the electors' shoes and see him like a handsome and idealistic patriot, eager to raise the voice of American social outcasts and sometimes we remember, as parts of the sideshow, that these are the very reasons he was picked by his friend, Marvin Lucas (Peter Boyle) to represent the Democrat party despite his blatant lack of experience.
And what's the catch for McKay? The film reveals its cynical and interesting premise when Boyle writes in a matchbox his only guarantee: "you will lose". The point of his candidature is not to undermine a Democrat potential leader's career and yet provide a realistic opponent to the Republican, the much popular Crocker Jarmon. The certitude of the defeat is compensated by a symbolical victory: McKay has all freedom to spread his values, share his vision and gain some publicity. Seems like a win-win situation.
McKay accepts, not without reluctance and more driven by the surrounding enthusiasm, starting with his wife who enjoys her new 'first lady' etiquette. But there's something we know about the American political machine, once you put your foot in, there's no way getting back. And the irony with McKay is that his political carelessness and lack of true ambitious will catch the eyes and ears of Democrats, by inspiring a more genuine and less generic form of political expression, precisely what the public needed. "The Candidate" brilliantly points out the effect of good merchandising in politics. Like a product, McKay has the looks, the message and also, the brand.
The name is in fact the film's subplot, involving McKay's father, a not-so popular veteran politician played by Melvyn Douglas. The reporters notice that the father never endorses his son's candidature, but McKay pretends it's a way to assess his independence. However, after a severe drop in polls that would have foreshadowed a total humiliation, McKay wins a debate against Jarmon at the last minute thanks to a genuine reaction rejecting the hypocritical aspect of a confrontation that dodged the real issues. Jarmon is upset, McKay wins, then McKay Sr. blesses him with the greatest compliment he could ever give him "son, you're a politician".
Jeremy Larner, who was a speech writer for the Democrat Eugene McCarthy and then can be trusted in terms of accuracy, wrote the script. It isn't just a fictionalization of a true story but a gutsy political pamphlet that hasn't lost its relevance. And if we don't remember McCarthy, we do remember the former President who hadn't done much for the country, yet compensated his lack of accomplishment thanks to his father's aura, and used Christian idiosyncrasies to please the crowds. Bush Jr. was no less a puppet than McKay, but he won, and the pages he wrote might not be regarded as the greatest chapter of American history.
And since he was elected, I guess "The Candidate" failed as a warning, and this is why I blame the film for not having been more 'thought-provoking' and 'entertaining'. The script was great, the performance of Redford as a man torn between his sincere ideals and his conviction that he's a fraud get thrillingly palpable as the film progresses. Peter Boyle, Michael Lerner and Allen Garfield are absolutely scene-stealing as the show's ringleaders, and Natalie Wood's lovable cameo gave the ultimate touch of authenticity. Apart from that, the result is rather forgettable, lacking that spice we expect from a political satire.
"The Candidate" could have been on the same prophetic wit as "Network", "Wag the Dog" or "A Face in the Crowd" but the film was as frustrating as McKay struggling during his speeches. Jeremy Larner might have won an Oscar, but a Paddy Cheyefsky he ain't. And unfortunately, the real highlight of the film happens to be the ending with the unforgettable "what do we do now?" that leaves Lucas, and the viewers, speechless. The film was so full of awkward painful-to-watch moments (can you imagine anything worse than a politician being speechless?), fitting the film's anticlimactic realism but so frustrating for viewers who expect a few explosive outbursts.
Redford remains an eternal enigma as a man we never quite see what goes on his mind, on TV or during a speech, challenging our patience but not rewarding it until the end, when he's put in the position he couldn't cheat anymore. I didn't know what he was going to do, but I guess I was glad they finally closed that door before we'd know. And that last minute gets me back to "The Godfather", again. The two films had similar opening and ending: one defeat speech from men who hadn't the stuff to 'win the game' and a door closing on the 'winner'.
As if Crime and politics were the two evil twins of power in America, except that the first door was closed on an intimate room while the second left the protagonist with the public. And I'm not quite sure which is worse: fooling the law in secrecy or fooling the public in total openness?