Review: Absolute Power

Clint Eastwood is Luther Whitney, a veteran cat burglar who chooses the absolute wrong place and time for his latest operation. Attempting to rob a mansion when his plans are interrupted by a young woman (Melora Hardin) and much older man (Gene Hackman), drunk and engaging in some hanky-panky. Being that the man is drunk and a sleaze, he starts to get rough with the girl and things end really, really badly, as two men come barging in and one (played by Dennis Haysbert) shoots the girl dead. And then comes the clean-up and cover-up, because the dirty old man at the centre of all this is none other than the President of the United States (Gene Hackman). And although we only learn this about twenty minutes or so in, it’s not a spoiler, because the film is mostly about the cover-up and the pursuit of wily Whitney, who although unseen at the scene of the crime is soon pegged by just about everyone as the killer. This pursuit involves not only the dodgy Secret Service (who know Whitney didn’t do it), but also a paid hitman (Richard Jenkins), and two cops (played by Ed Harris and Penny Johnson). Also thrown in danger is Whitney’s long-estranged daughter (Laura Linney) whom he has recently attempted to reconnect with, with little success to say the least. Judy Davis plays the ball-breaking Chief of Staff, and E.G. Marshall plays the wealthy philanthropist and long-time friend whose wife was being banged (or banged up?) by the Prez, and whose mansion they were using.

 

This idiotic, catastrophically overblown 1997 politically-tinged thriller from director-star Clint Eastwood (“Play Misty For Me”, “Mystic River”, “Gran Torino”) is easily one of his worst films, behind “The Rookie”, “Tightrope”, “City Heat”, and “The Eiger Sanction”. That’s not good company to be keeping. However, I’m most disappointed with the fact that this complete and utter bullshit comes from the pen of one William Goldman (“All the President’s Men”, “No Way to Treat a Lady”, “Misery”), adapting the David Baldacci novel. The entire set-up is ricockulous (if that’s not a word, it is now), with the American President a sleazebag woman-basher and an accidental death and subsequent cover-up of said death. All witnessed by an aging thief who just happened to be robbing the place where this was going on. Even if you’re a Marilyn Monroe/JFK/RFK conspiratorial kinda person, this is just a step too damn far.

 

Not only does the film not recover, it gets worse. Yes, I’m talking about the scene where Clint Eastwood watches a TV news story at a bar and sees that the man he witnessed was (dum-dum-DUMB!’) the President of the United States! Obviously he already knew this and it was just to let the audience see that he recognised the President. Then why not include something during the opening scene? It might’ve been difficult to do so, but the clunkily way it plays, it seems like Clint’s a dumb arse who doesn’t recognise the President of the United States. Some have suggested it was more about Clint realising what a lying scumbag the President is, but given what we see of him in the opening scene, what’s one more unflattering personality trait? Nope, it was done to inform the audience, and results in Clint looking like a tool. I mean, it takes about an hour for this scene to occur, making it even more absurd.

 

 It’s all just so stupid, and completely overblown (not to mention contrived as hell), including Hackman’s hammy performance. It’s a dud role, but Hackman must take some of the blame, too considering he’s hardly miscast (He practically played the same damn role in the superior “No Way Out”, only more effectively there). The role is overblown and so is his lazy performance. Sadly, stone-faced Clint doesn’t much hold up his end of things either in a role he’s not quite suited to even if you get past the name (Does he look like a Luther Whitney to you?). He’s far too conspicuous-looking to play an elusive, veteran cat burglar.

 

It’s left to a rock-solid Ed Harris and E.G. Marshall to steal the show in the film’s only interesting roles. Marshall (one of the greatest and longest-serving character actors of all-time) in particular gives a strong and dignified performance in a most undignified film. Meanwhile, Richard Jenkins is seemingly miscast yet surprisingly good as an assassin (but the role is tiny), and Judy Davis’ character has even fewer dimensions than Hackman’s POTUS. She does not come out of this film well, and should’ve passed on playing this one-note role. However, Scott Glenn almost (but not quite) escapes a dud role. He’s a good actor, sometimes misused, but the screenplay here never quite gets around to caring about him, even though he’s actually well-cast here, on paper. There’s some retroactively amusing casting with Dennis Haysbert and Penny Johnson playing a trigger-happy Secret Service agent (with even less depth and ambiguity than Glenn) and lady cop, respectively. Later on they would play the African-American US President and his scheming First Lady on TV’s “24”.

 

With more subtlety this might’ve been something tolerable, but casting the American President as a spineless abuser of women and overall villain is simply insane, no matter what your thoughts on some of the real-life American Presidents have been. Even Oliver Stone would likely call this film nuts, and it’s the kind of shit you could see Cannon coming out with in the 80s, with Charles Bronson in the lead, Michael Ansara as the President, and Richard Lynch in the Haysbert role. Seriously, the only people in the film more incompetent than POTUS, are his two chief Secret Service agents, one of whom committed the murder in the first damn place. I guess Davis wears the pants for everyone here. And even if the portrayal of the President were more measured, you’ve still got to put up with one of the most tedious and comatose openings to a movie of all-time. It should’ve started from the very moment Eastwood breaks in, and as a director here he shows no sense of urgency nor aptitude for energy. There’s an early scouting mission, the elongated death sequence, and the elongated cover-up. All of this could’ve been done in ten minutes, instead of what is at least twenty. And at that point, the film is truly dead in the water, never to return.

 

The cinematography by frequent collaborator Jack N. Green (who directed the interesting but little-seen “Traveller” the same year) is also appalling, as the film is horribly lit, especially early on. Being shadowy and noirish is one thing, making it impossible to see a damn thing is altogether different. I could understand it perhaps in the break-in scenes, but I swear no one turns on a freakin’ light throughout the damn movie! No one outside of the movies enters a room without turning on the light pretty damn quickly.

 

Who the hell green-lit this absurd abomination? I can understand why so many familiar faces were attracted to the idea of working with Eastwood on a Goldman script, but whoever allowed this film to go ahead should be ashamed of themselves. This is one of the worst thrillers of all-time, and half an hour overlong to boot.

 

Rating: F