Fact And Fancy Scenes From ‘Primary Colors’ Mirror What’s Going On In The World Of Politics Today
With a tear in his eye and fury in his heart, the would-be president of the United States finally ‘fessed up: “It’s my fault,” he wailed. “I didn’t keep it together.”
The candidate was referring to a past affair with the 17-year-old daughter of a friend and fellow barbecue fanatic. But he could have been referring to the hairdresser or the school librarian or any of the other women so numerous that his wife hired a “dust buster” to ferret them out during the primaries.
The candidate, in this case, was not Bill Clinton. He wasn’t even real. But fact and fancy blur once again in the movie “Primary Colors,” in which scene after scene at an early screening here over the weekend smacked of today’s headlines.
John Travolta plays Jack Stanton while pretending he’s not playing Clinton. But Travolta’s impersonation is so dead-on that the parallels between Stanton and Clinton are impossible to ignore, even without a single mention of Whitewater or White House interns.
Travolta has fleshed out his character right down to the chicken leg as appendage and the doughnut as exclamation point. He’s positively Clinton-esque, if not exactly presidential. The graying hair, the Southern drawl, and the aw-shucks body language are all there.
Unfortunately, so are the charges of sexual philandering. Even Emma Thompson, portraying Hillary Rodham Clinton’s hairdo, can’t take it at times. She weeps, she worries, she even slaps the jerk - but only after being the last one to believe the relentless rumors of his infidelities. Then she gathers the troops, goes into damage-control mode, and works harder than ever for her man.
In the $65 million movie, which is opening officially March 20, Hillary becomes Susan Stanton. James Carville and Gennifer Flowers get new identities. George Stephanopoulos morphs into a young, idealistic black man.
Like “Wag the Dog,” an unintentionally timely peek at how the president would handle a sex scandal involving someone young enough to be his daughter, “Primary Colors” blends what people know with what they think they know. The president, however, is faceless in the former and easily identifiable in the latter. Even the scandals and skulduggery sound familiar.
From the president’s perspective, no doubt, no time would have been the best time to release “Primary Colors,” based on journalist Joe Klein’s roman a clef about the 1992 Clinton campaign. Now, with Clinton confronting allegations that he had a sexual relationship with a White House intern, one Stanton proclamation in particular can bring a cringe.
“You will,” Travolta as Clinton vows, “never have to be ashamed to be a part of this campaign.”
Later, he insists that the White House is where “the (expletive) stops.” He appears to mean it.
In other words, the candidate blames his political enemies, the media, anyone but himself for his loutish behavior. Plus, he thinks he’s worth it. His strategists and supporters forgive him - and do the dirty work of cleaning up after him - because they believe his concern for the common folk is all that matters. Even revelation of an arrest during a Vietnam War protest that was expunged from his record with a U.S. senator’s assistance - echoes of draft-dodging - does not shake their faith in the fat man who should be king.
Sound familiar? Sound too familiar? Apparently, the words were too close for comfort for two-time Academy Award winner Tom Hanks, who is friendly with the Clintons. He turned down the part of Jack Stanton, giving Travolta another opportunity to bulk up with abandon.
Still, even Travolta’s portrayal of a Southern governor isn’t all unsympathetic. As Clinton, he genuinely believes he is the best man, the only man, for the country. And he does have the common touch, clasping strangers close and chatting up whoever is serving him his latest meal. That same empathy has helped Clinton rise in the polls lately, despite the Paula Corbin Jones sexual harassment lawsuit and allegations of sex with intern Monica Lewinsky.
More uncomfortable is watching Thompson feel Hillary Clinton’s pain. Both first ladies appear to love their husbands, but the no-nonsense celluloid version also presumes to reveal the woman behind the public image: bitter, angry, and deeply demoralized. But at least Thompson plays her as thin.