DVDs and Vitriol

Thanks to the wonderful Netflix I've received several new movies in the past day or two. While perusing their selection I stumbled across a movie entitled "The Assassination of Richard Nixon." With a cast featuring Naomi Watts and running at 1hr 35mins (whats that in metric does anybody know?), it was hoped that maybe this movie would avoid the pitfalls of other Sean Penn vehicles...OBNOXIOUSNESS. Sadly, my assumption was incorrect.

For all intents and purposes, this movie was about an incompetent ninny of a man that somehow, by some sort of jump in logic, begins to associate the visage of Nixon (as shown on random televisions throughout the movie at all the right times, so much so that it becomes cliche) with everything wrong with his life and apparently with society at large. This isn't to say Richard Nixon was a shady sod or a malevolent sort. Sure, he did lots of nasty things, but we all do.

Speaking of nasty things I ought to make dinner plans before my 8 p.m. bombing of Cambodia. Can't do such a thing on an empty stomach now can I?

The problem is that Penn's character ISN'T an everyman. Penn's character, the would be assassin, is instead every reason why the TRUE left in this country will never hold power and should never be allowed to hold power. Ultimately, Penn is a whiny, sniveling man-child incapable of reconciling that the world has certain things like necessary evils, compromise, a lack of acceptance, or the fact that sometimes life doesn't work out in the most fantastic of ways.

The fact that his breaking point is when he realizes that he can't sell office furniture using charm and wit but instead thinks that its some how more appealing to have some sweaty, mustachioed bumbling oaf with a stutter a stammer and clammy hands "tell it to them straight" is completely worthless. EVERY small thing that an emotionally developed adult would do for the sake of making the day go smoothly is instead some sort of personal mountain that he must have a revelation to climb.

The character, Samuel Bicke, is over bearing towards his ex-wife, steals from his successful brother in order to get HIS dream going, assumes more racism directed towards his black best friend than the black friend himself, and overall a sweaty, pissed pants walking one man play of living in a never land of equality and cuddly bunnies.

Crippled by insecurity, outlandish desires for some sort of prosperity that just shows up, whiny, puerile, and completely unaccepting of reality or compromise, this sad sack of a man-child stumbles through life from one self induced tragedy to another all while directing his rage at some person or system that has nothing to do with the fact that he's a selfish little fuck. He deserves all the loss, all the white guilt, all the economic destitution he can whip up for himself. Indeed this sorry little bastard made this movie the longest 1 hr and 35 mins I've ever seen.