It is said that comedy and politics make strange bedfellows. Throw in suspense, and it turns into a threesome from hell. Barry Levinson’s “Man of the Year” could have made something of the former, but opted for the threesome — sadly, because what’s there in the way of comedy and politics isn’t half bad.
Robin Williams returns to familiar comedic terrain as Tom Dobbs, an independent comedian/political pundit in the same vein as Jon Stewart or Bill Maher. He spends most of his time taking pot shots at politicians, but when urged by an online grassroots movement, Dobbs suddenly decides to run for president. Soon he’s on enough ballots in battleground states to make a difference, becoming a true threat against both parties after an on-air tirade at the presidential debate. In true Hollywood unlikeliness, Dobbs wins the election.
Then we’re thrown for a loop: Enter Laura Linney as Eleanor Green, who works for the company supplying the electronic voting systems used in the election. She discovers a glitch — one which falsely gives Dobbs the presidency — and, being threatened by one of her company’s legal reps (a disposable Jeff Goldblum), feels obligated to tell Dobbs. Naturally, the company wants to keep her from succeeding, thrusting her closer to Dobbs in the process.
“Man of the Year” begins so steeped in the reds, whites and blues of Americana that it’s a jolt whenever Linney shows up. We get all the Capra-esque touches of “Mr. Deeds Goes to Town” or “Mr. Smith Goes to Washington” when Wiliams is at center stage, as well as the truthful-politician touches seen in such ’90s films as “Dave” and “Bulworth.” When Dobbs decides to address Congress dressed as George Washington, its ludicrous believability humorously cuts right down to the very fundamentals of American slang: democracy, liberty and freedom. Every time Levinson cuts back to Linney, it’s like we’re in a political thriller a la “Enemy of the State,” complete with stereotypical trappings like forced druggings, anti-climactic action scenes and, yes, even the mandatory chase through a parking garage. All the patriotic colors are washed out into a plain white sheet, the kind people wave when they surrender and give up.
This is Williams’ and Levinson’s first film together in over a decade, preceded by the off-key “Toys” and the popular “Good Morning Vietnam.” Actually, Dobbs is not unlike Adrian Cronaur, Williams’ character from “Vietnam” — they both have that random-fire verbosity of high- and low-brow humor and both “shake things up” with the powers that be.
Audiences love to watch Williams do what he does best — play himself — and he does it well here. Not, however, well enough to lift the film over the hurdles it sets up for itself. In “Vietnam,” it was rebellious and refreshing; now, it’s decent but formulaic, and Williams is not quite as engaging.
When the vast majority of Americans get their news from comedic sources such as “The Daily Show” and “The Colbert Report,” and sometimes the difference between politics and entertainment becomes unclear. Levinson picks up on this, acutely portraying the colliding worlds of government and celebrity (even if some of Williams’ dialogue does play it soft), but disappointingly tosses it aside for a lame-duck excuse for suspense.
Along with Williams’ worn yet humorous act are a series of throwaway performances, including Christopher Walken as Dobbs’ manager, who’s so stiff and detached it’s like he’s reading from another theater, and Goldblum’s aforementioned role is filled with so much cliche-slick grime that it’s almost unbearable to watch. Lewis Black, fortunately, survives his role as Dobbs’ head writer and delivers the best lines in the film, particularly his comments on how television makes a holocaust expert and holocaust denier equals, causing people to tune out. It’s details like this that could have saved “Man of the Year,” had they been taken to the next level.
