I generally enjoy films that pack some political power into their plots. While All the President’s Men is the Everest of the genre, other films—like The Manchurian Candidate, Seven Days in May, and Primary Colors—provide entertainment and some thought-provoking scenarios. I even enjoy D.A. Pennebacker’s documentary about the 1992 Clinton campaign (The War Room) and have no problem handling Oliver Stone’s political preaching and historical revisionism in JFK and Nixon. With all this behind me, I was primed to enjoy The Contender after watching the third Bush-Gore debate on television.

Perhaps I should have been suspicious when I entered the empty late-night theater just before show time for The Contender. I’ve attended a number of arthouse flicks, though, so the lack of an audience didn’t faze me. A handful of high school-age students did sneak into the theater during the previews, and three young males behind me carried on their own dialogue for much of the movie.

I sssh’d them a few times near the beginning, but after a while I felt their boredom and restlessness as well and couldn’t be too critical of them. What a disappointment! This film is far too weak to be contending for any kind of awards, mostly due to Rod Lurie’s weak screenplay and his unimaginative directing. Unbelievably, I actually found that the third Bush-Gore debate had been more entertaining fare.

Too bad, since some fine actors are wasted here. Individual moments by Joan Allen (Nixon, Pleasantville), Gary Oldman (JFK, Immortal Beloved), and greatly under-rated Jeff Bridges (Starman, The Big Lebowski) are overwhelmed by the general ennui created by Lurie's film. The political propaganda is heavy handed, manipulative, and treats the audience like idiots. I feel this way even though the politics is directed towards my generally left wing sensibilities. If I want to see pure film propaganda, give me something visually interesting like Triumph of the Will.

Bridges plays Democratic President Jackson Evans nearing the end of his second term. Not only does Evans mirror Clinton's legendary charisma and appetite (shown by his penchant for ordering exotic dishes at all hours from his staff), he wants to leave a legacy by nominating the first woman Vice President to fill a vacancy. Thus, Ohio Senator Laine Hansen (Allen) is selected over popular Florida governor Jack Hathaway (William Peterson), with Evans illogically citing an all too familiar Chappaquiddick-like incident that has just boosted Hathaway's heroic image.

While Hathaway attempts to bury his disappointment, Republican Congressional leader Shelby Runyon (Oldman) decides to block Hansen's appointment for fuzzy reasons: He's either ticked that he wasn't consulted about the appointment, doesn't like Hansen's leftist politics, or he doesn't fancy having a woman being named to the position. Perhaps Lurie simply became fixated on Kenneth Starr's investigation. Whatever the reason, Runyon leaks photographs that appear to show Hansen participating in an orgy during her undergraduate years at Harvard.

Meanwhile, Hanson calmly refuses to comment on the allegations or defend herself. She insists that her personal life is hers alone and should have no bearing upon her public service. That’s the basic set up—good lefties vs. bad right-wingers, personal vs. public life—and if you can’t figure out the eventual
denouement, you haven't seen enough Hollywood film fare.

The film's strengths lie with some of the acting performances. Christian Slater brings to life the most interesting character— the one character who seems most real—by portraying Reginald Webster, a young idealistic Senator from Delaware who is torn between party loyalties and his moral values. The film could have been stronger had it been told more from Webster's point of view—or had it developed the other characters equally well.

Bridges performs adequately as a believable President, indicating with glance and movement that there is often more to politicians than meets the eye. They can be shiftier and more clever than the shark that makes up his sandwich. Bridges just isn't given that much to do, and neither is the leading character for that matter.

After outstanding supporting roles, Joan Allen gets a chance to shine as the leading actress here, the heroine of the film. Unfortunately, Lurie forgets to infuse her character with any real humanity, beyond her first scene (when we see her getting frisky on her office desk with her husband). Most of the rest of the time, her role could have been played by a figurine with the dull lines Lurie gives her to recite.

We learn that she was once a Republican but has switched parties, because she claims her beliefs are in keeping with Democratic ideals. Lurie even provides us with a scene that this conversion could have been discussed when Hansen meets with her father, a retired Republican governor. Sadly, we learn nothing new of Hansen's character from the encounter.

One of the worst cases occurs during the closing remarks of Hansen's hearing. Instead of giving an impassioned heartfelt talk, we get a laundry list of her left-wing beliefs. Of course she’s for pro-choice on abortion, favors gun control legislation, and belives staunchly in the separation of church and state. To pound the religious issue a tad more, Hansen claims to be an atheist who worships at the Church of Congress to serve the nation. All this is fine, but mere political stances do little to show her inner character.

The only belief that is solidified by her character's actions is the one about keeping private lives out of the public eye. Allen demonstrates this when the audience roots for her to shove Runyon's rant about abortion down his hypocritical throat. We see her contemplate revealing his “dark” secret, yet see her remember her ideals and refuse to comment as she stares Runyon down. This is perhaps her finest single moment in the film.

Most distressing is Gary Oldman's over the top performance as Representative Runyon, but much of this has to be attributed to the shallowness of a script that challenges him about as much as his villainous role in Air Force One. Oldman is a wonderful actor, but fortunately he's established himself on a large body of other notable work. Here we see him in his bad thinning hairdo wig as an obsessed right-winger who can only focus on blocking Hansen's nomination and eating mass quantities of bloody red meat.

Lurie has learned a few film techniques through his years as a film critic, and his script is stronger than Roger Ebert's ludicrous Beyond the Valley of the Dolls, but there are a number of plot holes that don’t make a lot of sense.

Not to mention his weaknesses in developing characters. For one thing, how are we to believe that these sexual pictures would first surface when Hansen is being nominated for Vice President? As nasty as politics is, wouldn’t these have surfaced much earlier in her career, like when she first ran for the U.S. Senate, or when she switched parties?

Then, in the Sixth Sense spirit of screenwriting, Lurie provides us with a huge plot twist near the end that is supposed to dazzle. Instead, I heard the six teens in the audience begin to laugh, and I couldn’t blame them. I was more controlled, but found myself shaking my head in disgust. What an unbelievably bad trick Lurie pulls out of the swampland to turn the tables on the bad guys! Instead of making Bridges final speech more effective, it cheapens the effect.

Overall, this film is a montage of mediocrity and just isn't a lot of fun as it ponderously pummels us with its left-wing ideology. I really enjoy films that contain well-developed political intrigue, or political films that contain well-developed characters. The Contender has neither.

The best part of this tedious 140-minute film was the end credits; I could leave the theater..