Malcolm In the Mitt-le

There is a pivotal scene towards the beginning of the new Mitt Romney bio-pic—simply titled Willard: A Man and His Country—where a young Mitt (played with fierce smugness by Hollywood Comeback Kid sensation Frank Myunez) is walking aimlessly down a crowded street in Detroit. He sees a large crowd of people congregated around a public orator (the ever chameleon-like Sam Rockwell), spreading the gospel of trickle-down prophecy and forewarning his listeners of the Socialist bogeyman that will one day take Americans’ guns and freedom. The orator is Ronald Reagan—shown years before he will be crucified by Alzheimer’s.

Young Mitt stops, captivated by the speaker’s charisma and the words behind that charisma. Reagan makes eye-contact with Mitt and…everything stops. All we see are the two looking at each other—their eyes meaningfully locked. The voice-over track indicates that they are speaking telepathically to one another. “You like ice cream, Mitt?” transmits Reagan. “I guess so,” replies Mitt. “Good. I like ice cream, too. You know what else I like, Mitt? America.” “America?” Mitt asks—and you can see him tasting the words for the first time, like his first taste of the expensive champagnes only rappers buy. “America, Mitt,” replies Reagan. “One day, Mitt—America will be yours.” At the end of the exchange, all the on-lookers have stopped their raving. They look from Reagan to Mitt with puzzled expressions on their faces, trying to comprehend what is happening—why the two are looking at each other with their heads cocked-sidewise and glints in their eyes, signaling mutual adoration.

"Come in, Reagan. I need you."

The scene is particularly effective because it illustrates what a lot of folks don’t understand about Mitt, Mitt’s thwarted destiny to become President, and, more importantly, the unblemished Reagan. What the scene is saying is that: we are all on-lookers when it comes to Mitt and the unspoken but tangibly felt connection he holds with the nation’s greatest President ever—in history—of all time. We don’t get it—we don’t get Mitt (as this last election proved…)—because we can’t hear that connection—we can’t see it. But—oh, we can feel it.

In another scene, Mitt is dressed-down to rags for a weekend excursion to the poorer sections of Detroit. He tells his chauffer, “Drop me off wherever there is an entitled black man shooting up black tar heroin in a poorly-lit alleyway—I want to see humanity. I want to know it—so I can extend my hand like I’m giving money to the black man, then pull it back and point at the black man and say, “Psyche! Gotchya!” The chauffeur (a minstrel-like black man—played with harrowing anti-realism by Morgan Freeman) complies, smiling warmly in the stretch-limo’s rearview mirror at Mitt, whose eyes and teeth twinkle back at the driver, as the two acknowledge their shared distaste for the poor and racially marginalized. 

 "Where to, Mitt?"

At a whopping 6 hours, Willard: A Man and His Country still feels too short. Scenes abound of Mitt walking barefoot through trailer parks as old, Medicare recipient grandmothers wheel up to him in their motorized carts, hoping to cure their morbid obesity by touching the hem of his designer suit. While this re-enforces Mitt’s undisputed image as someone of the people—the average designer-suit-wearing Mormon Messiah—this reviewer was left wanting more: I wanted a glimpse at Mitt’s interior. His heart. His soul. The things that make him tick. How he processes food. And, ultimately, what drives a man like Mitt (one of a kind, if you ask me) to want to ascend to the Presidency.

The film was written, directed and produced by Mitt Romney (how refreshing to see a bio-pic done by the person who actually lived the life depicted) who reportedly brought in (by way of kidnapping and holding at gunpoint—then paying off the lame-stream media to “keep their mouths shut, if they know what’s good for them”) Hans Zimmer to score the film. 

After a contentious election cycle, it feels nice to cool down with a non-partisan, inspirational fluff-piece like Willard. And Frank Myunez (hot off the success of My Cat Burrp), playing the part of Mitt in all stages of life—from Mitt’s diaper-days in Detroit to the salt-and-pepper-haired hunk of today—proves that he’s not only got his groove back (to use a popular urban expression) but it’s a groove we’re all going to be feeling for a long time to come. 

 Born-Again Hollywood

Politics aside: I think this movie makes a pretty convincing case for who should have been President….