The problem with politicians

Being part the First of an informal (x)-part blog suggesting movies to watch if you are sick to death of the current race for President of the United States. Derived from conversation on a very good blog.

I watched a fascinating movie last night. It gave me, I think, an new insight into the whole problem with politics in America (I believe this is a problem inherent in any two-party political system).

Essentially, it fosters uninteresting candidates and forces them--if they want any chance of winning--to sell out their ideals and pander to people who are opposed to them ideologically.

People make a big deal of Kerry's waffles--the entire world has. Bush has waffled more than a few times himself (of course these sites are partisan, but at least they cite their sources). Waffling is a matter of course in American politics.

But is this a weakness in candidates, or a weakness in system? It’s probably a little of the former, but I think the idea that this is a systemic problem is far more to the point, and much more worrisome.

The fantastic movie I watched last night was called The Candidate. It features Robert Redford looking hotter than ever, with mutton chops you just want to smother in applesauce and eat right off his face. It was made in the seventies, but it speaks clearly to what is happening this election cycle. It touches so perfectly on the questions I’ve been asking about these presidential candidates that watching it felt fateful--I'd totally forgotten it was in my Netflix queue.

It's about an idealistic young lawyer, Bill McKay, who gets roped into fighting an absurdly popular incumbent for senator of California. McKay has name recognition thanks to a father he’s ideologically opposed to, and that’s about it. He wins the primary going away because all the Democrats with clout are afraid to face their Republican opponent. As a candidate, McKay is a train wreck, unclear on certain issues, completely lacking views on others. However, there is strength in him. He possesses a fierce idealism and is under the assumption that this campaign is his to lose. Think of Al Sharpton’'s quadrennial primary failures. —McKay sees himself as that kind of candidate: There to force dialogue on uncomfortable issues.

Long story short, after the primaries he's a forty-point underdog to Crocker Jarmon (best. . . antagonist name . . . ever), but begins making up ground fast, not because his social-democrat platform is reaching disenfranchised people, but because his campaign handlers are fantastic at splicing his views into digestible sound bytes that are palatable to moderates and even Republicans. The less clear his stances on issues, the more he resonates with people.

McKay doesn’t like this at first, but as the gap between he and Jarmon closes, he tolerates it and eventually gets caught up. There’s a wonderful moment where he’s given the support of a union leader who is guilty of caving to business and breaking a small strike of farmers. McKay's hate for this man is palpable

Union guy: “I think you’ll find we have more in common—“
McKay: “I don’t think we have shit in common.”

Here, Redford looks like a feral dog. The room, full of various advisors to McKay, is silent for about 15 seconds. Then the men erupt in laughter, even the union boss. Finally McKay smiles too, because he doesn’t seem to know what else to do.

The next scene shows the boss introducing McKay as “the next Senator from the great state of California.”

The campaign is no longer McKay’s, it's no longer anyone's really.

The movie was strangely anticlimactic and more powerful for it. Redford'’s last lines lingered with me for hours. With the campaign over, the once confident and self-assured candidate turns to his manager and says, “"Marvin? Marvin, what do we do now?”"

The statement is simple, but profound.

When there are only two choices, the inevitable winner is not the person who electrifies the most people to his/her cause; it’'s not the candidate who convinces people he/she will push for change. The winner is the person who convinces the most people he/she’s just like them. You do that by saying as little as possible.

I found the movie fantastic at chronicling the swift movement toward center that all candidates (those that want to really win anyway) have to make in order to succeed in a two party system.

I'm sure someone is going to disagree with me on this. Bring it.

Mad plays the bass like the race card.