Adam McKay going from comedy maestro to vocal, politically charged moralist is an interesting one, if not necessarily surprising since his comedies generally had a sociopolitical subtext to them. The Big Short was a compelling look at what went on behind the housing crisis, and now he turns his rage to former Vice President, Dick Cheney, in the bluntly titled Vice. In it, we see Cheney (Christian Bale) as he rises through the political ranks over the years, before he eventually becomes George Bush’s (Sam Rockwell) VP, where he takes on more power than any VP in American history, the ramifications of which we experience to this day.
Just through his two recent films, McKay has developed a very peculiar and eccentric style with his filmmaking. He combines the very horrific reality and the rage it inspires and filters it through playful techniques, ranging from fourth wall breaking, to cutaways that emphasizes comedic contrasts, to numerous amounts of visual metaphors that are occasionally made very literal. It’s not subtle, and it’s aggressiveness can be very off-putting if you aren’t able to get on its wavelength. I think the style works more than it doesn’t, and it allows for big ideas to be more easily digestible. It also makes the proceedings feel more engaging and expressionistic, which makes for a more compelling view than if it was just a run-of-the-mill prestige picture.
The film paints a rather scathing portrait of Cheney, who is shown as a power hungry sociopath who plays on the ego and insecurities of the people around him to benefit him and his goals, as well as how he manipulates the circumstances he’s dealt with to his advantage. The film flirts with humanizing him, especially in showing his relationship with his family, but it can only go so far considering the things he does. The film’s sympathy only goes as far as to not show him as a two dimensional mustache twirler, and that’s about it.
Christian Bale does his usual thing here, but he does it well. He captures the look, physicality, voice, and mannerisms of Cheney extraordinarily well. Due to the real figure’s secretive nature, as the opening text explained, the film has to extrapolate and work around the fact that we never know what’s going on in Cheney’s head, and both McKay and Bale navigates those waters in mostly clever ways.
The supporting cast is equally great. Amy Adams brings a quiet ruthlessness to Lynne Cheney, Sam Rockwell is endlessly amusing as Bush, as is Steve Carell, who plays Donald Rumsfeld. And like with The Big Short, McKay brings in some celebrity cameos that explain some of more complicated plot elements or contextual details.
I’ve heard the words “smug,” and “condescending,” being used to describe this movie, and to an only slightly lesser degree, The Big Short. It’s an understandable criticism, but it doesn’t take into account the kind of audience that the filmmakers are trying to reach. Of course, if you’re someone who is very much aware of what Dick Cheney did, and the effect he had on our political institutions, then you’re naturally going to find the film heavy handed. But if you’re someone who isn’t particularly informed, which I can assure there are plenty of, then the film provides the important details, the context, and the implications. The film isn’t just a biopic, both of McKay’s films have essentially played out like visual essays, and on that level, I think they work effectively.
Having said all that, I didn’t necessarily love Vice. I like it, and I admire it quite a bit. Unfortunately, Adam McKay’s stylistic flourishes did reach a tipping point after a while, and that combined with the storytelling relentlessly jumping around Cheney’s lifetime eventually left me exhausted. The actors all do terrific work, and they’re easily able to operate on McKay’s specific wavelength, with Christian Bale doing some of his best work in a long time. And while it didn’t really tell me anything I don’t already know, my own morbid curiosity about the central figure kept me engaged, the journey still amused me, it horrified me, and it enraged me, and I think the current American cinematic landscape could use a lot more of the righteous anger that McKay has channeled.
But that mid-credits scene? Oof. That was rough.