RUTHERFORD ON FILM: ‘All the King’s Men’: What Was Left on the Cutting Room Floor May Have Salvaged Remake of Immortal Political Fable
By Tony RutherfordHuntington News Network Critic
Huntington, WV (HNN) -- Something you see but not clearly enough to appreciate the full meaning [until an inevitable ending].
Pardon my seemingly indirect excursion into inartful prose, but paraphrasing this line from the re-make of “All The King’s Men” starkly punctuates the overall summation of this sometimes faithful and thoughtful and sometimes utterly despicable attempt to up date one of the great cinema classics. Most of my ire rests on the question --- “What was left on the cutting room floor?” As edited, the story has a limp foundation that mars the would-be impact.
I’m not going to whine about Southern drawls being good or bad, I’m much more concerned with what should be the film’s crescendo on the fragility of power, or, more specifically, how too much power corrupts even an originally honest individual.
For those unfamiliar with the story, Willie Stark (a.k.a. Louisiana Gov. Huey Long) rises from a straight-shooting county political leader to the highest position in the state only to fall from grace by becoming more corrupt than the leaders whom he replaced. Starting at the bottom by promising the working classes, the poor, and African Americans “roads, bridges and schools,” Stark mixes idealism and naiveté as he promises to “nail up” the rich who extract oil and gas from the state.
Although you see worn law books in the backgrounds throughout, Sean Penn’s version of Stark comes from a door-to-door sales legacy, rather than the legal profession. Might be meant to broaden his “grassroots” appeal, but even balancing for “updating,” who would pretend that a no-name could get on the ballot, not alone become a dark horse victor?
Penn coincidentally has a similar rebellious appearance as Marlon Brando (in his youth) and the legendary James Dean. Penn’s charisma explodes as he plays the tough southern hick from the working class whose political idealism transform into joining the good ole’ boys, just not necessarily the same dudes. Penn’s performance (and the script) does not show a pivotal encounter (or series of encounters) that send him dropping to the dark side.
Narrative hints of stonewalling legislative and judicial branches fail to show the politically strapped man who must choose between dealing with his enemies or losing power. Yet, on screen, it’s the sinful governor’s excursions into the womanizing world of burlesque and lengthy furious drives across the state wherein his inner determination and plunders occur.
The often troubled actor’s wrinkled forehead, overplayed evangelistic oration, and soaring self omnipotence demonstrate the consequences of decisions, even those made with the best of intentions to help the helpless.
Told in narrative form from the perspective of talented investigative reporter Jack Burden (Jude Law), whose newspaper stories helped build the man’s popularity, Law maximizes his pristine moments particularly interacting with legend Anthony Hopkins, who plays Judge Irwin. Set in the 1950s prior to the 24/7 cable media circus, Law’s power of the published pen nearly outweighs the political corruption moral. Instead, Law deals with interpersonal decisions and emotional fallout from allowing himself to be “used” by the once reformist politician.
Law defines the exuberance of his character for political fresh air that stomps on the establishment and which eventually clashes with his “rich” publisher. He, too, falls from a man dedicated to redefine change to one whose journalistic skills turn to muckraking through the timely uncovering of forgotten public records and still unconnected dots of those hindering administration progress.
Shadowy, soft depth of field cinematography which occasionally switches from color, to black and white and to an aged sepia tone besets most of the film serving to convey a political noir like feel throughout.
Consequently, “All the King’s Men,” which takes its title from the Humpty Dumpty rhyme, scores provocative points and skillfully establishes some metaphoric analogies yet it awkwardly straddles the surface of the mutilated principles that Stark’s reign unleashes. What began as a campaign based on school board officials extorting construction monies which led to poor standards and an eventual tragedy turns into lessons on how not to use friendly networks to force a superior’s will.
As for the political fables and suggestions, that shall wait for yet another article.