The Bigger Picture

Under discussion:

The Snows of Kilimanjaro  (1952)

Whilst I like to think myself generally well read, I have to confess to there being some very sizeable gaps in my knowledge of literature. I am in my element talking about Dickens, Austen, Chaucer or Hardy but F. Scott Fitzgerald and Ernest Hemingway are a different matter. To my shame I have never got around to familiarising myself with the works of “The Lost Generation” - the works of the great American writers based in Paris in the aftermath of the first world war.

The Snows of Kilimanjaro is based on a short story by Hemingway and tells the story of an American writer, who falls into a fever after being wounded and reflects on his failures both at love and in his writing. His neglected wife takes care for him as he slips into delirium, trying to keep him alive long enough for a plane to arrive to rescue them. In doing so she must listen to him talking of lost loves and prevent him from destroying himself or giving in to his sickness.

The film opens with writer Harry Street already injured, teasing us with two conflicting accounts of how he was injured. Harry argues that his skin was broken by a thorn in a bizarre twist of fate and that led to his leg becoming infected; his wife says he injured it when saving a young man who had fallen in a fast-moving river.

Screenwriter Casey Robinson establishes in this early scene each character’s view of Street - Harry sees himself as unlucky and with self-pity, his wife thinks of him as heroic and capable. As the film plays out we learn more about these characters and their relationship, although it is far more interested in Harry’s story than Helen’s.

Feverishly Harry’s mind races back to growing up in rural Michigan, breaking up with his girlfriend and running away to Europe where he encounters the striking Cynthia Green. As their romance develops, so does his writing. On a safari trip to Africa, Cynthia falls pregnant and, with their relationship at an end, Harry’s life spirals into turmoil. He remembers another failed relationship before meeting Helen, mistaking her for Cynthia not once but twice.

These short flashbacks vary in interest and quality with the strongest being those centred on Harry and Cynthia, first in Africa and then Spain. Ava Gardner is superb as the playgirl who is challenged by the discovery that she is pregnant, realising that she does not want the same things from life that Harry does. In one scene she tries to tell him that their life will change, hoping that he will respond to the prospect of a new life with a family. The look on her face when he replies is heartbreaking and we know that their romance will be at an end.

Gregory Peck’s easy charm as Harry perhaps feels a little out of character, yet it does help to explain why women would be interested in a man that bad-tempered and cruel. He handles the sarcastic dialogue well, though at times it seems as if the film would have been better served by someone with a more severe, cutting edge in their performance.

Susan Hayward, as his wife Helen, is anonymous for large chunks of the narrative as the script requires her to mop Harry’s brow and be patient with him. Only towards the end of the picture is she really tested as an actress as Harry’s sickness worsens and she is required to treat the infection on his leg herself.

The scenes between Helen and Harry take place, for the most part, on what is clearly a soundstage recreation of a camp in an African clearing. Camera movement feels restricted at points, particularly when compared with some of the often spectacular second camera crew work that was done on location in Egypt and Kenya.

Director Henry King mostly intercuts between the soundstage material and location footage, doing an acceptable job of marrying the two together although the joins are noticeable. However there is no excusing a sequence on a lake featuring some of the worst back projection I have ever witnessed. I always try to bear in mind the technical limitations of the period when looking at an older film but the poor execution of these shots ruins what ought to have been one of the most tense sequences of the picture.

His work elsewhere in the picture however is solid and he uses the camera and lighting well to signify a mood of nostalgia and then melancholy. Sound is used well to give the film a haunting, unnerving texture, the sound of animals in the distance giving the film a real sense of place.

The Snows of Kilimanjaro is not a film that has stood up particularly well to the tests of time. It is hard to overlook its bizarre mesh of stylised, staged dialogue scenes and wildlife footage shot on location or the film’s often slow pacing. Yet for all its faults the film still is affecting and, at moments, moving.

Under discussion:

Impromptu  (1990)

Apparently a musical impromptu should create a facade of perfect spontaneity, intended to hide the careful, almost mathematical constructions that make them work. It should feel almost improvised, as if it is being created at that very moment.

The title of this film by James Lapine refers explicitly to composer Chopin’s Fantaisie-Impromptu but could just as well describe the style of the piece. Here we are introduced to a cast of brilliant, extravagant artistic personalities and we watch them interact and attempt to hide their machinations and true purposes from one another.

Impromptu tells the story of noted author George Sand (real name Amandine Aurore Lucie Dupin) who became noted for taking a man’s name, smoking cigars and dressing in male attire. She shocked the establishment at the time by refusing to dress or act like a conventional woman and lived a scandalous lifestyle, marrying a baron and then leaving him aged 27 to go to Paris where she led a number of high profile affairs.

Judy Davis plays Sand and invests her with an appealing swagger exuding self-assurance and sexual energy. Like many great artists she lives life with a passionate energy, picking an obsession and then chasing it. From the earliest scenes of the movie we see this play out in the creation of her novels as she works long into the night and then sleeps through half the day.

We follow Sand’s attempts to ensnare Polish composer Frédéric Chopin, a sickly and timid young man who seems to be permanently at death’s door. When she hears his music she is entranced and is determined to have him, despite making a poor first impression on him.

Like a musical impromptu, this film has its purpose but delights in running off in comical whims, such as a duel between two of her former lovers, and throwing in unexpected twists and turns. This lends the film a floaty, dreamy quality as the characters dance around each other and the rhythm of the piece changes.

Hugh Grant is cast opposite Judy Davis as Chopin but has little chemistry with her. Characterisation of that legendary composer is slight, consisting of little more than a cough and looking a little bit sorry for himself. The film is far stronger when talking about his maladies and his temprement than when it tries to show them to us.

The film also portrays several other notable artists of the period including playwright Alfred de Musset, composer Franz Liszt, Romantic artist Eugène Delacroix and novelist Felicien Mallefille. Each are superbly portrayed by an accomplished cast but all are upstaged by Emma Thompson’s turn as the Duchess d’Antan, an aspiring socialite who wants to be surrounded by the greatest artists of her time. One scene when she welcomes them to her home, giving each a laurel wreath, is a particular delight.

These scenes set in the d’Antan estate are lively and frequently very funny, veering from bedroom-hopping farce to slapstick to teasing wordplay and a literally explosive ending. As well as satirising the misguided attitudes that patrons of the arts can develop, these scenes also explore the corrosive relationships that can develop between artists as they push each other to self-destructing ends.

Once the characters depart the estate the film sadly takes a turn towards the conventional, morphing into a more traditional romance albeit with female and male roles reversed. In these sections the film’s impromptu facade falls and its structure becomes more evident as we are guided towards an uncomfortably clean ending.

Films full of famous figures run a significant risk of revelling too much in the fame of their characters rather than entertaining with a good story. On too many occassions such films can degenerate into checklists of historical figures of the period. Thankfully Impromptu focuses instead on narrative and characterisation.

Hugh Grant’s wet Chopin is the weakest link in the film, diminishing the character’s presence to portray the composer’s fragile health. He tells us at one point that he feels almost as if he is a spirit, floating in music yet Grant conveys little sense of detachment from his physical self. It is Judy Davis as Sand that makes him believeable and her passion gives his character the stature it needs.

I wished at points that it was more ambitious and more challenging as a film. That the story would match the off-kilter nature of its central character. Yet whilst Impromptu never pushes boundaries as hard as it might, strong performances from Davis and the supporting cast and enjoyable comic moments ensure that it is a film that succeeds more often than it fails.

Under discussion:

No Country for Old Men  (2007)

No Country for Old Men is set in the Texas of the 1980s - a world that still believes in its cowboy past that is startled by the rise of drugs trafficking across its border. Whilst persuading us that this will be the story of Josh Brolin’s hunter who discovers a drugs deal gone wrong and a suitcase full of cash, this film is equally about the realisation of Tommy Lee Jones’ local sheriff that the world has changed and he no longer has a place in it.

These are powerful and lasting themes that stayed with me after the credits rolled, but more immediate is the strength of Javier Bardem’s performance as assassin Anton Chigurh. Cold, dry and terrifying, Bardem is the definition of screen presence here. Just the sight of him sat in a chair can chill, but it is in his relentless movement and relentless pursuit that he comes to life. He seems unstoppable.

Chigurh is searching for the suitcase and leaves a trail of bodies in his wake as he tries to track it down, each killed with an unpleasant, compressed air weapon that churned my stomach. The film alludes to this character’s psychology but never tries to explain it to us - a move that makes him the more chilling. From his first, almost sexual, killing experience wrestling with a police officer to the flipping of a coin, it is as if there is a beast inside of Chigurh that drives and compells him.

Searching for both Chigurh and Brolin’s hunter is Sheriff Bell, played elegiacly by Tommy Lee Jones. He is one of the old men in the title, nearing retirement and struggling to comprehend a world where killing takes place seemingly without motive and concerned about the impending tide of violence. He asks himself in a stunning opening monologue how would the famous lawmen of yesteryear have coped with such a world, the obvious conclusion being that they couldn’t. The world has changed and left characters like Sheriff Bell behind.

The chase takes all three across Texas and, at one point, two of them into Mexico. Chigurh and Llewellyn Moss bloody each other repeatedly in scrappy encounters that are dripped in tension. The Coen Brothers’ allow light and sound to star in these scenes, with Moss noticing tiny changes in the atmosphere as he prepares for the onslaught of violence.

We not only see the violence, we see the aftermath too. Both have scenes where they have to patch themselves up before the cycle of violence kicks off again. You sense that this cycle of violence could go on again and again without resolution - Moss and Chigurh are too perfectly matched. It is the unexpected interference of a third party (other than Bell) that proves decisive.

Brief mention must be made of Kelly Macdonald, perfect as Moss’ nineteen year old wife, Woody Harrelson as a cocky bounty hunter and Stephen Root as the man who hires him. Although each only has a small amount of screen time, they are so well cast that you know who they are almost immediately. Macdonald is particularly fine towards the end of the movie as she wrestles with the question of what would be best for her husband.

No Country for Old Men is a great achievement in film-making. Tense and unrelenting, it only missteps towards the end where it never shows us the confrontation we are expecting, keeping a key incident off-screen.

Watching this film, I could not help but be impressed by Javier Bardem’s chilling performance. Yet I was left in the hours that followed turning to Tommy Lee Jones’ quieter performance. This is the heart of the film, the struggle of that older man to understand purpose where there is none and to predict the actions of the unpredictable.

No Country for Old Men is an unsettling, brilliance piece of filmmaking that affects as much as it thrills. Its ending prevents it from being immediately satisfying but in many ways that only speaks to the notion that it is the unpredictable that gets us in the end. Not the ending we want, but one that fits perfectly with the themes of Tommy Lee Jones’ speech at the opening of the movie.

Under discussion:

V for Vendetta  (2006)

V for Vendetta is that rare thing amongst big budget Hollywood films – a surprise. I came to it expecting a run of the mill action film with a little bit of politics thrown in, but found something more complex and thought-provoking.

The film is set in a futuristic Britain under the control of a fascist, manipulative government. The media are puppets of that government, blaming Britain’s problems on homosexuals, immigrants and Muslims and spreading misinformation. The people seem powerless and subdued and isolated from the rest of the world.

Evey Hammond (Natalie Portman) is walking the streets one night when she is attacked by government thugs for being out after curfew. She is saved in true swashbuckling fashion by a masked figure, styling himself after Guy Fawkes (Hugo Weaving) who stuns her and the government by blowing up the Old Bailey whilst he stands on a rooftop “conducting” the explosions.

“V” is an interesting figure with mixed motivations, some personal, some idealistic. We learn more about both in the course of this picture as he talks with Evey. The role is a tough one, played from behind a fibreglass mask, yet Weaving is up to the task and conveys subtleties of character and emotion with his expressive voice and gestures.

Weaving also shares good chemistry with Portman that, like the morality of the film, is complex and thoughtful. Whilst relationships in action films often feel incidental, this feels integral to the success of the story. Our understanding of “V” is informed by her own yet never feels prescriptive – we can think what we will of him.

Portman is excellent and it is fascinating to watch her character transform through this movie as Evey gets caught up in events, learning more about the events that have caused British society to change. The film calls on Portman to show considerable range and subtlety of performance.

In one particularly disturbing scene we see her imprisoned, broken down and tortured mentally. It would be easy for an actor or actress to make the mistake of giving a big performance, reminding us that they are acting. Portman makes no such mistake, almost underplaying the scene and the scene is all the more effective for that as it gives us space to contemplate what it must be like to be treated in such a horrific fashion and to have your dignity stripped away from you.

Also impressive is John Hurt in a small but dominating role as the head of state, Chancellor Sutler. For most of the film he is seen on a wall-sized television screen, interrogating his underlings. He gives off an impressive, brutal dignity that is beautifully undermined later in the film.

Further support comes from Stephen Fry as a talkshow host who Evey works with, Rupert Graves and Stephen Rea as the policemen charged with tracking down “V” and Tim Pigott-Smith as the head of security. Each are excellent and make significant impacts in relatively short periods of screen time.

V for Vendetta is a bold and challenging movie. Some of its ideas will make people feel very uncomfortable and certainly its climax will inspire mixed reactions in its audience.

Some may object to the film’s freedom fighting stance, feeling that it is a comment on politics today. Others are likely to take away the message that we have the responsibility to educate ourselves and to take the matter of who rules us seriously.

The film’s success is that it prompts discussions and makes us think. It invites us to engage in a moral debate - what would you do if you were in Evey’s position and there was a totalitarian government in Britain. If the world didn’t care and there seemed to be no end in sight. I may not have liked the answer this film gives but I appreciated it asking the question.

Under discussion:

Kiki's Delivery Service  (1989)

Spirited Away  (2001)

Howl's Moving Castle  (2004)

Kiki’s Delivery Service is an adorable, good-natured movie that tells the story of a thirteen year old girl who leaves home for a year to live in the city where she will train to become a witch.

When she arrives in the city with her cat Jiji she discovers that the city is less welcoming than she expected and struggles to find somewhere to stay. A chance encounter with the owner of a bakery leads not only to Kiki being offered her spare room but also the discovery that she has a talent for delivering items. Starting her own business, Kiki makes new friends and gets herself into a number of scrapes.

These scenes gently amuse, demonstrating Kiki’s sweet personality and determination as she tries to ensure that her customers receive their goods in time. We also see her gain confidence as she begins to feel comfortable in her new home and she finds herself attracting the attention of a young boy obsessed with flying, Tombo.

The film’s animation shows the imagination and artistry of director Hayao Miyazaki. It lacks the spectacle of his later work such as Spirited Away or Howl’s Moving Castle, but the delightful hand-drawn animation has a delicate beauty that is mirrored by the film’s score. Well, at least until the credits sequence when we are treated to an obnoxious burst of pop music.

At its heart, Kiki’s Delivery Service is the story of a girl learning to become independent. She is helped by several female role models who become her friends who assist her not only to overcome her practical problems of where to live and how to earn money but her philosophical ones as well. Yet at no point does the film become heavy, maintaining its light, delightful tone throughout.

Kiki herself is an appealing heroine who has a sweet but determined nature that makes her easy to like. Kirsten Dunst plays her in the English dub and does a good job, making her very likeable. Joining her are Janeane Garofolo as an artist living in the forest and Phil Hartman, in his last film before his death, as Kiki’s wise-cracking feline sidekick, Jiji.

Beautifully animated, populated with interesting characters and filled with amusing incidents, Kiki’s Delivery Service is a charming movie that is suitable for all ages. Its use of humour and episodic storyline gives the film a light, frothy touch, yet under the surface it has much to say about the insecurities and difficulties of a girl’s early teenage years.

Under discussion:

Primary Colors  (1998)

Charlie Wilson's War  (2007)

Charlie Wilson’s War tells the story of a Texas congressman and the impact he made on the Cold War and in the politics of Afghanistan.

Tom Hanks portrays the Democrat congressman who guided money to Afghanistan that armed the mujahedeen and enabled them to win a war against the might of the Soviet Empire. The movie portrays his actions as decisive in the collapse of the Soviet system at the end of the 1980s and touches upon politicians’ short-sightedness in abandoning Afghanistan at the end of the conflict which allowed the radicals to take charge.

Wilson is a six term congressman whose greatest achievement is that he has been re-elected five times. We quickly learn of his chaotic personal life. He is a drinker, spending most of the film with a glass in his hand, and is indiscreet in his sexual and social connections.

He is enjoying some indiscreet connections when he spots Dan Rather on the news and hears the newscaster report on the Soviet force’s aggression against the largely defenceless Afghan people. Spurred on to learn more, partly out of his own interest but also because he has a soft spot for right wing Houston socialiate Joanne Herring, he flies to Pakistan where he sees the refugee camps and is spurred on to do something.

When he confronts the head of CIA operations there he is disgusted to see that America’s efforts are tokenistic and have little to do with defending those fighting the war. He returns to Washington wanting to find a way to support the Afghan forces and help them to defend themselves against the Soviet army.

Demanding to meet with somebody from the CIA back in the capital, he is disappointed when low-ranking outsider Gust Avrakotos appears in his office rather than a head of service. Avrakotos, played superbly by Philip Seymour Hoffman, explains the scale of funding needed to help the Afghans win their war and Wilson sets about getting it for them by striking deals with arms dealers and pressuring fellow committee members to back his proposals and appropriate the funding he needs.

This film has a lot of potential for greatness but is too determined to sanitise Charlie Wilson. By making this as a mainstream movie, director Mike Nichols and screenwriter Aaron Sorkin tread an uncomfortable line between drama and humour, never subjecting either Wilson or his actions to proper scrutiny.

After all, Wilson is a man who avoids democratic accountability by using the rules of the committee he sits on to funnel money and arms. Even if the filmmakers did not wish to devote the body of the film to the aftermath of his actions and the rise of the Taliban, Wilson’s methods are never scrutinised or debated.

A more critical portrait could well have made this movie work more for me, not as a romp but as an examination of a man who, bored with his lifestyle, longs to do something of lasting significance and to give himself purpose. Who manages to use the Washington systems and persuade people with political objectives (the fall of communism) to back him in his more moral crusade to enable the Afghan people to stand up for themselves but who does not realise that his actions could create problems. The film goes some way towards addressing these themes but is never savage enough in its satire or in its portrayal of its lead.

Charlie Wilson’s War can be very funny at points, particularly in the farcical doors opening sequence when Wilson juggles discussions with Avrakotos and his secretarial pool, “Jailbait”. It features slick dialogue and strong performances from most of its cast (I am still undecided whether I liked Julia Roberts as Joanne Herring).

Compared to Primary Colors, a previous Mike Nichols political drama, this film feels too affectionate towards its main character and towards Washington. A bit more viciousness and a bit more bite could have transformed this film into something more consequential and more interesting instead of a film that is merely entertaining.

Under discussion:

Planet of the Apes  (1968)

Inspired by a novel by Pierre Boulle, Planet of the Apes is the story of a group of four American astronauts who volunteer to be cryogenically frozen and sent into space. When the flight crash lands on a seemingly desolate planet in the year 3978, the surviving astronauts venture into the desert where they encounter a race of primitive humans ruled by fearsome simian overlords.

Charlton Heston stars as Colonel George Taylor, a cynical man who volunteers for the mission to escape mankind and its inhumanity towards one another. Captured and isolated, he is unable to speak after being shot in the throat and must persuade the apes holding him prisoner that he is intelligent and that he deserves his freedom.

Do I detect the distant sounds of allegory? I think I do.

Yes, Planet of the Apes turns our world on its head to make points about man's barbarism to one another, the negative influence religion can have on free scientific inquiry, racial injustice, blood sports and keeping animals caged. Most of this is laid on heavily in philosophical discussions and in a memorable court sequence.

Yet these sequences do not slow the film. In fact, they are amongst the most compelling in the picture, energetic and fascinating as we see the ruling apes refuse to allow their beliefs to be challenged.

Heston shines in these sequences, full of moral superiority and later frustration as he attempts to reason with his captors. It is not a subtle performance but without the energy he injects into the piece it could easily have fell flatly in its moralistic middle section.

Praise should also be given to Roddy McDowall, Kim Hunter and Maurice Evans for achieving captivating performances despite being behind rubber masks throughout the picture. The maks, whilst more flexible than many and simulating speech reasonably well, are not able to indicate emotion particularly clearly and so it falls to the actors to communicate those feelings vocally - no mean feat.

The ape characters are handled nicely by the script, being given strong personalities and characteristics. From the inquisitive Cornelius, who privately doubts that apes have always been the dominant lifeform but is scared to speak out, to Dr Zaius, who is scared of order being undermined, it is easy to believe in these characters and their motivations.

This film rarely gets it wrong but when it does can provoke unfortunate chuckles. The sight of the three male astronauts naked and running through the woods yet with their modesty completely in tact is ridiculous, and several traditional sayings switched to refer to humans ("human see, human do") sound ridiculous. You may also find yourself questioning why the apes are able to speak perfect twentieth century English whilst the humans cannot.

Despite these weaker elements the film still holds up reasonably well if treated as a campy science fiction adventure rather than a more serious effort. It is entertaining and intense, leading to a highly satisfactory ending.

Unfortunately the film's shocking twist is now so ingrained in pop culture that its effect is slightly dulled. Yet Heston sells it so well that it still has a powerful impact as we watch Taylor realise what has happened.

Planet of the Apes features compelling performances, a couple of exciting set pieces and a fanastic conclusion. It is a less serious movie than it clearly considers itself to be but is no less enjoyable for that.

Under discussion:

Schindler's List  (1993)

Primary Colors  (1998)

All the King's Men  (2006)

There are occassions when you look at the cast list, look at the crew and look at the source material for a film and are forced to ponder how so many promising elements turn into a turkey.

Based on Robert Penn Warren's Pulitzer Prize-winning novel that was to Louisiana Governor Huey P. Long what Primary Colors was to Bill Clinton, the film tells the story of a fiery, populist politician (Sean Penn) who takes on the oil industry.

We see the events from the perspective of Jack Burden (Jude Law), a newspaper writer who is drawn into Willie Stark's campaign for Governor and subsequently his administration.

Stark, who was based upon Governor Long, is urged to run by a political schemer named Tiny Duffy who is trying to use Stark to get his own candidate elected Governor. When Burden reveals to Stark that Tiny is using him, the politician responds with a verbal tirade at his next stump stop against the fat cats - a theme that resonates with the crowd.

Sean Penn's Stark is a curious beast that never really settles for me. I can admire the way he physically apes Long when giving speeches, most noticeable in the way he moves his hands as he talks, but his personality feels indistinct. It is almost as if he had decided that Stark is a morally ambigious character and so should be "grey". Not a mixture of motives, not a mixture of actions - just soft, "grey" ambiguity.

Now, I have nothing against ambiguity in and of itself in a character's motivations if we are presented with a character and asked to make judgements. However, Zaillian's script never lets us see Stark clearly, keeping him at ambigious middle-distance and shrowding the impeachment proceedings in mystery. In doing so it becomes ambigious as to whether those charges, whatever they are, are trumped up or based on evidence of some kind. We never know Stark so how can we judge him?

We also cannot share in Burden's disillusionment concerning Stark when we never get a feel for what attracts Burden to him in the first place. More ambiguity. Is it that he is drawn to the underdog? Does he respect Stark's resume? Does he want to undermine his newspaper's line on the election?

The principal problem with Burden is that he simply is not a likeable or empathic character. From the opening frame of this film he is cold and unhappy. We never really understand the hopes and aspirations of the character, or why he takes some very dramatic decisions. Clearly there is a reason he is drawn to Stark but by not letting us share Burden's journey, it is hard not to be baffled by one major decision the character takes.

Perhaps the film's broken narrative structure is also to blame. We do not follow the relationship between Burden and Stark as it happens but we begin near the end of the narrative. A more conventional chronological timeline may have been less flashy but it would have made the story and the characters more accessible.

The film attempts to guide us emotionally through its style but the music is too brash and the visual design tries far too hard to be eye-catching. Both the music and art design end up being counter-productive, being distracting rather than aiding the telling of the story.

For instance, in one scene the production suddenly switches from colour to black and white and when blood appears it is the sole colour on the screen. A nice effect certainly, but it is very reminiscent of a scene in Schindler's List (which Zaillian also scripted) and feels like it was only shot that way to show off the effect. Zaillian forgets that design should always be in service of the story, clumsily pulling the focus away from the actors and towards the direction.

All the King's Men is a disenaging and disappointing work that fails to make the most of its elements. Given its cast, which contains the likes of Anthony Hopkins and Kate Winslet, and the pedigree of its crew it is astonishing how this picture could end up falling so wide of the mark.

This is a film that never decides what it wants to say or why its messages, whatever they are meant to be, are relevant to today's audience. It is clear that the makers have a love of the original text, the excruciating voice-overs culled and stitched together from the novel are evidence of an admiration for Warren's poetic prose, but the film needed to go further to make a connection from the politicking of the mid-20th century to that of the start of the 21st century.

Zaillian himself recognises this problem, explaining that this was the reason he moved the setting of the story from 1930s Louisiana to the 1950s. Yet in terms of campaigning style there is little difference between the two.

The original novel's success was in its daring examination of the political machine at a time when we lacked cynicism. What could have been a biting satire with relevance to today's politics feels like a record of a bygone age and a missed opportunity.