Oliver Stone has cultivated a reputation as the bruiser of modern cinema.
He highlighted the moral complexities of Vietnam (Platoon, Born On The Fourth Of July, Heaven & Earth), savaged his fellow Americans' relentless pursuit of wealth (Wall Street), satirised the glamorisation of violence (Natural Born Killers) and remem
bered one of the United States's darkest days (World Trade Center).
Now, as George W Bush bids farewell to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, he offers his most intriguing feature yet. W sketches Bush's rise to power from the mid-1960s to the present day, beginning at Yale. The young George (Josh Brolin) endures the humiliation of the fraternity house initiation.
He vociferously rejects one frat member's suggestion that he follow in his father's footsteps – "Hell no!" – and channels his efforts instead into boozing, invariably ending up drunk in jail.
His despairing father George Sr (James Cromwell) pulls strings to keep his son's name out of the papers. However, George continues to disappoint until he meets his wife Laura and gains his first foothold on the ladder of success, as Governor of Texas.
Sweeping to power in controversial fashion, Bush becomes the 42nd US President and faces some of his country's darkest days, including the September 11 attacks.
Timed neatly to coincide with the battle for the White House, W is a surprisingly affectionate portrait. There's very little here that lives up to Stone's reputation as the agent provocateur of American cinema.
The claws are retracted in Stanley Weiser's screenplay, focusing largely on George's desire to escape from his father's shadow.
"What are you good for? Partying, getting drunk, chasing tail?" rages Bush Sr. "Who do you think you are, a Kennedy? You're a Bush!"
Performances are strong across the board, including Brolin's sympathetic portrayal of the reluctant leader and Thandie Newton's mannered portrayal of the sole woman in a man's world.
Ultimately, W tells us very little about its subject that we don't already know, glossing over some of his darkest hours. It could and perhaps should have been so much more.
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