W. (2008)

Oliver Stone’s “W.” is a draft screenplay looking for a reason to exist. This portrait of George W. Bush (played by Josh Brolin) was released in theaters well before the 43rd president handed over the White House keys to Barack Obama. Why the rush? Rather than go bare-knuckle serious and deep as in “Nixon,” this desperate satire tosses stale “SNL” jokes at the audience, hoping for a giggle. The “humor” consists of Bush getting rat-fucked at a college party and later choking on a pretzel as the Prez. Stone has nothing substantial to say, and treats his title character as a dumb-struck audience member to his own life. The lame attempts at dream psychology are middle school at best. Shockers are the juice of Stone’s best work. Yet there are none here. Conspiracies about oil grabs, Bush marching to God’s drum, or Cheney’s plans for a world ruled by an all-powerful America, like Rome before Christ, are nothing new to anyone with a New Yorker subscription in 2006. Stone treats each revelation with hushed awe. I yawned. The cast is stellar, especially Richard Dreyfuss as a Cheney, and barely save the film. C-