Reagan

by Mike McGranaghan

Love him or hate him, you have to admit that Ronald Reagan was a fascinating individual. His journey from B-movie star to President of the United States of America turned him into one of the most notable figures of the 20th century. He saw huge successes, like calling on Mikhail Gorbachev to tear down the Berlin Wall, and equally huge controversies, the Iran-Contra affair chief among them. There is certainly no shortage of material to draw from for a biopic. It is therefore gravely disappointing that Reagan is roughly on par with Bedtime for Bonzo.

In an odd choice, the film is not told from Reagan’s point of view. Instead, it’s told from the perspective of Viktor Petrovich (Jon Voight), a Russian official who is reflecting on the life of his former enemy. Through flashbacks, we see how the future president became a crusader against Communism in Hollywood, then decided to formally go political when his acting career hit the skids. From there, the movie is practically a Wikipedia entry that briefly charts the ups and downs of his presidency. Conspicuously missing is any mention of the AIDS crisis and Reagan’s non-response to it. That is, as the kids say, a little suss.

Why is Ronald Reagan’s life story told by a Russian? The answer is simple: Howard Klausner’s screenplay wants to paint him as a one-man army against Communism. Depicting his strategies for dealing with Cold War tensions is certainly fair game – managing Russia was undeniably a hallmark of his time in office. The issue is in how the movie becomes so intent on revering Reagan that it ends up sucking the meaning and depth out of everything. All of it is presented in a simplistic manner designed to make him look heroic. Reagan’s life and legacy require deeper treatment than this.

Weak performances help water down the true events. That does not include Dennis Quaid, who is exceptionally well cast here. He captures Reagan’s essence and speech cadence without turning him into a caricature. Everyone else, though? They’re like the Saturday Night Live cast spoofing presidential biopics. Penelope Ann Miller does nothing to suggest Nancy Reagan's somewhat icy reputation. Voight speaks in a shaky Russian accent throughout, Kevin Dillon hams it up as studio mogul Jack Warner, and Mena Suvari plays first wife Jane Wyman as a one-note shrew. Lesley-Anne Down is also on hand to play Margaret Thatcher, and she’s like Gillian Anderson imitating Lesley Manville doing an impression of Meryl Streep. Her turn wouldn’t be out of place in a Naked Gun movie. And Creed singer Scott Stapp as Frank Sinatra? Um, okay.

Steven Spielberg’s Lincoln is a top-tier presidential biopic. It gives a strong sense of Abraham Lincoln’s personality, his thought process, and the implications of his policies. Reagan director Sean McNamara (Cats & Dogs 3: Paws Unite) is no Spielberg. His film is shallow, mistaking hardcore reverence for substance. His tonal style is indicative of a desire to make every moment feel as portentous as possible. Sure, a lot of what’s portrayed was important, but 140 minutes of that solitary note becomes monotonous.

The other flaws are secondary to the basic fact that Reagan simply isn’t worthy of its subject. Ronald Reagan’s two terms in office were uncommonly packed with significance. He did things that shaped America in profound ways, for better or worse. A figure of that prominence deserves a biopic as complex as they were, not a sluggish cinematic tongue bath.

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