W.

Caught the newest film from Oliver Stone last night. That's right, you read that correctly. A movie at night. Full price! On a weekend! We went to see how skewed, outrageous, tilted, etc. this biopic would be. But first, as always, the trailer:



A dead-on impersonation of George W. Bush by Josh Brolin. Freakish. Some say Heath Ledger was driven to madness by immersing himself as The Joker in the latest Batman film. I could only imagine the insanity of having to portray W. day in and day out. [shiver] The horror!

An overacted piece. Each character (sans Richard Dreyfuss as Dick Cheney) seemed to reach and make their character a lampoon. A caricature. Sequences of W. daydreaming and fantasizing in centerfield at the Texas Rangers ballpark mark chapters in the movie. And the chapters feel as if they are Saturday Night Live vignettes. Overdone. Over the top.

Didn't seem to lean too, too left. What you did come away with is the massive tension to please one's "Poppy". Classic psychological nightmare here. Waaaa, Jeb's your favorite, you never say anything nice about me, waaaaaa. A Roman tragedy of pride and stubbornness and going to all ends to please Poppy and be better than him. There was plenty of dramatic license and insertion of Bushie quotes into different situations, but in the end overall it didn't seem too historically warped.

Long. Annoying. Frankly, the overacting was too much for us. We were bored with it.

A Matinee Minus / HBO Plus for this one.