by Dean Treadway
Fittingly, Alexander Payne’s 1999 film Election kicks off with a decidedly penile lawn sprinkler shooting its payload over the fields behind George Washington Carver High School. All the trouble that pops up in this cynical, deceptively nasty comedy hails from unbridled male desire (the film is one letter away from being titled Erection). Even though it takes well-deserved potshots at almost any electoral process out there, Election really maps the twists and turns of crippling sexual politics just as much as it serves as an epitaph for the voting process.
Its lead character, Jim McAllister, is played by a frumpy Matthew Broderick whose pasty complexion, ratty haircut, and mismatched polyester ties place him eons away from privileged, ultra-cool Ferris Bueller (director Payne–a former teacher himself–has admitted, quite amazingly, that he’d not seen the John Hughes movie at the time of filming). A civics instructor, McAllister is the three-time winner of Teacher of the Year at the ironically nearly all-white Carver High, and the last person one would suspect of malfeasance, were it not for the foreboding narration that guides us through the opening scenes. Actually, the story sports a jaunty, ’50s-era innocence in these initial moments. We see McAllister demonstrating a heartfelt dedication to teaching, and to his students. And when dowdy-haired student body presidential hopeful Tracy Flick (Reese Witherspoon) shows up with her smiley-faced petition sheets and her bowlful of free Juicy Fruit sticks, the narration may shift to her supercilious voice, chiding all who were involved in the machinations we’re about to see. But an air of chastity is still felt–until it’s stenched up with that wide-lensed close-up of Mark Harelik, whose middle-aged-teen character Dave Navotny smirks as he confides to fellow teacher McAllister a shocking revelation about Tracy. This line of dialogue may be the film’s most memorable because it kicks our butts into the sordid undercurrent that flows throughout this well-observed comedy.
Navotny’s childish braggadocio about Tracy’s moistness takes Election into the trash, really, and trash is a notable visual theme that Payne explores obsessively. There are rubbish receptacles all around. There are people reaching into and standing on trash cans, diving into dumpsters, picking up stray litter, an irritated janitor proves to be a key player, and on and on it goes. It is perpetually garbage day here, and sanitation vehicles are ubiquitous on these grey streets of Omaha (Payne’s hometown and the town where he also filmed his debut feature 1996’s Citizen Ruth and his Election follow-up 2002’s About Schmidt). Payne clearly feels this is a story about rubbish—rubbish ideals, ambitions and desires. And it’s true: as funny as it is, Election does leave you feeling as if a film of stinky garbage scum has coated your skin.
The sad thing is, the film is filled with almost nothing but victims. Witherspoon’s Tracy is an only child being raised by a strict, single, ambition-loving stage mother (Colleen Camp, who was one of the dancing Playboy models in Apocalypse Now and who could have used more screen time). As such, Tracy really never had a chance to become anything more than the churlish taskmaster she is. And because of this, as the idiot Dave Navotny manipulatively point out, she suffers from a smothering loneliness (we rarely see Tracy talking to anyone who’s not an adult, unless she’s scolding or demeaning them). When she’s seduced by Dave, she’s obviously in no right mind, because this developmentally arrested jerk sees her as an attractive loner whom he can trick into bed (by playing “Three Times a Lady,” no less).
McAllister, too, is an innocent. Stuck in a quiet, bland, loveless marriage with a closed-off, baby-mad woman who only wants his sperm for utilitarian purposes, Mr. M is frantically searching for some warmth in his life, but to his credit he never thinks of taking it from a student. He’s mortified when Dave reveals his affair with Tracy, and isn’t sympathetic at all when it leads to his friend’s firing (I love that the last time we see Dave, he’s pricing patio sealant at the paint store Laura Dern frequents in Citizen Ruth) . The problem is, McAllister’s left behind to deal with Tracy, whom he resents for having gotten out of the debacle scot-free, and in whom he comes to see as being possessive of the kind of hypocrisy that’s ruining the government he spends his days teaching about. Later on, of course, as McAllister suffers more and more from a lack of romance in his life, he begins to worry if he harbors some unspoken desire for Tracy (he bristles at her fidgety flirtiness as she hands over her full list of qualifying signatures, which he promptly, of course, heaves into a dumpster). His unease comes to horrifying fruition in a moment where he’s, again, straining to get his wife pregnant and begins to imagine her head replaced by, at first, Dave’s comely ex-wife (Delaney Driscoll) and then by Tracy, who hilariously urges McAllister on to orgasm in her cold, clipped, decidedly unsexy manner.
Election’s story is further complicated by two more innocents. Paul Metzler (Chris Klein) is a Carver High football star who’s introduced as he’s shattering his leg during a skiing wipeout (“WHYYYY???!!”). Barred from playing football ever again, he’s now a kid without an identity, and McAllister preys on this. Incensed that Tracy is running unopposed for president, Mr. M sees in Paul an opportunity to scuttle her plans. In a telling scene, McAllister tries to convince this sweetly reluctant kid to run. Paul says that this is really Tracy Flick’s thing and he doesn’t want to encroach on her territory. But McAllister doesn’t give up:
McAllister: Paul, what’s your favorite fruit?
Paul: Pears.
McAllister: [goes to the chalkboard] Pears, good. OK, let’s say…
Paul: Oh, no wait! Apples.
McAllister: Apples. Fine.
[he starts drawing circles on the chalkboard]
McAllister: Let’s say all you ever knew were apples. Apples, apples, and more apples. You might think apples were pretty good, even if you got a rotten one every once in a while. But then one day…
[he draws another circle which looks the same as the others]
McAllister: …there’s an orange. And now you can make a decision, do you want an apple or do you want an orange? That’s democracy.
Paul: I also like bananas.
Here, Payne introduces two more visual motifs: circles (McAllister is always seen dashing around in circles, even during the movie’s opening credits) and apples (the forbidden fruit, on which Mr. M munches more than once). Meanwhile, after being cajoled into running against Tracy, Paul heads to his opulent home where, in the kitchen, he naturally goes for a banana. That’s Paul for ya: a big banana (this is another of the film’s many penis jokes–Paul later reveals in a bedtime prayer that his is said to be large). But you have to give it to him–he’s extremely lovable, if a complete dunce. Paul never has an underhanded moment in the movie; he’s always fair…too fair, in fact (his eventual actions in the voting booth prove this). And his sweetness absolutely excludes recognizing anyone else’s mercenary actions, and that includes those of his adopted sister Tammy (Jessica Campbell), who is the orange in this trio of fruits.
Tammy’s honesty and quick anger might make her seem the harshest of these characters, but her only goal in this story is to find true love, or at least a teenager’s idea of what that might be. Spurned by a thorny girlfriend who retreats from the relationship for fear of being labeled a “dyke,” Tammy later wanders the bleak Omaha landscapes confused and waxing poetic. “Sometimes when I’m sad,” she says, “I sit and watch the power station. They say if you lie between two of the main wires, your body just evaporates and you become a gas. I wonder what that would feel like.” Tammy has no time for her brother, presumably because she’s bored by him and thinks him corny, and she certainly has no love for school politics (she pines to attend a nearby all-girl school, Immaculate Heart). But when her former girlfriend ends up as Paul’s sex toy, the battle lines are drawn and Tammy throws her hat into the election ring as an act of pure revenge (“I don’t even know these people,” Tracy screeches as she examines Tammy’s petition signatures. “They’re a bunch of burn-outs.”)
The centerpiece of the film, in my view, is the spectacular school assembly scene where all of Payne’s filmmaking faculties are on view. An impatient student body has been called together to hear the campaign speeches of each of the candidates. There’s a kid in a wheelchair who’s running unopposed for Vice-President–he has the most memorable campaign line: “Even if I can’t stand up for you, I will.” And then we hear, from Tracy, a pretentious speech complete with Thoreau quotes, awkward student testimonials, and an overemphasized cliche about “a vote for me is a vote for yourselves.” (It’s wonderful how Payne has Witherspoon deliver the word “yourselves” in a loud, mean tone that veers into distortion on the soundtrack). Tracy gets polite applause–that is, after being mocked mid-speech by a kid entreating “Eat me, eat me raw.” And then Paul hits the microphone, to thunderous accolades. But this political novice lets his naivete show big time: he reads his speech in a speedy monotone, never once looking up at his audience, and while his sentiments are non-offensive, his style is nil (Payne has Klein pull away from the mike at his speech’s end, causing his words to trail off to nothingness, and leaving crickets to literally be heard in the auditorium). Finally, Tammy takes the stage to hoots and jeers. But these subside pretty quickly as she launches into a searing tirade that’s shot straightforwardly, sans editing, by Payne and his accomplished cinematographer James Glennon:
Tammy Metzler: Who cares about this stupid election? We all know it doesn’t matter who gets elected president of Carver. Do you really think it’s going to change anything around here? Make one single person smarter or happier or nicer? The only person it does matter to is the one who gets elected. The same pathetic charade happens every year, and everyone makes the same pathetic promises just so they can put it on their transcripts to get into college. So vote for me, because I don’t even want to go to college, and I don’t care, and as president I won’t do anything. The only promise I will make is that if elected I will immediately dismantle the student government, so that none of us will ever have to sit through one of these stupid assemblies again!
The top-of-the-lung cheers at this upchuck in democracy’s face visibly startles the school principal (a terrifically authoritarian Phil Reeves). McAllister looks shaken, as if the place is going to explode with apathy as the cheers of “TAMMY! TAMMY!” ring out. Tammy grabs the mike like a rock star and adds a coda: “Or don’t vote for me! Who cares? Don’t vote at all!!” As a standing ovation jolts the auditorium, the message is clear: no vote is the most popular vote of all. Sound familiar? The scene sizzles our brains with a despairing recognition.
Though the principal’s initial response is to throw that “little bitch” out of the election, McCallister sticks up for her; he’d be happy to have her win instead of Tracy, which doesn’t say much for his motivations. Instead, he recommends suspension, which Tammy sees as a reward. And it’s here that the film’s focus turns back to McAllister’s questionable morals–or are they ethics? (What’s the difference, this film asks, but never really answers.) Fed up with his chilly, demanding wife, McAllister’s eye starts to roam and lands on Dave’s ex-wife Linda, whose tits and ass are beginning to make him sweat. She starts calling on him to open wine bottles, drill holes, mow lawns and fix her plumbing—-all of which are humorously sexual household tasks. So it’s no surprise that this man takes all this as a come-on, which it is. But that doesn’t mean he’s not going to pay for it. It’s this misstep, really, that causes McAllister’s world to come crashing down around him, to the point where the only solace, the only sense of control his bee-stung eyes can find, is located in the outcome of this stupid election.
McAllister’s actions are understandable. Tracy IS a monster—a busy-body know-it-all whose overachievement hides a barren soul devoid of empathy or charity. But neither of the other candidates are really there for the right reasons. And Tracy might be correct in speculating that McAllister is jealous of the kids he’s teaching, whom he gives opportunities to escape Omaha and move on to the sort of bright future he isn’t brave enough to grab for himself. When opportunity finally comes for him, he takes it only because his stray erections have left him no other choice.
There are so many things I love about Election. Reese Witherspoon’s performance seems requisitely brave and, really, unlike anything she’s done elsewhere in her career. She’s shrill and unlikable, and the film really makes you want to see her get a good ass-whooping (especially when she blames Tammy for some wrong-doing we all know Tracy was responsible for). But there’s a subtext to her Tracy Flick that makes you instantly sympathetic when she’s crying her eyes out after being rooked by McAllister’s actions (her mother offers her a pill to help her calm down, which is also a telling detail). The details in Witherspoon’s tremendous performance makes you realize that, even though Tracy’s neither charming nor honest, she may be the perfect person for the job she’s seeking.
Chris Klein, in his debut role, is a marvelously goofy presence, and it’s astonishingly lucky that Payne discovered a free sense of jock-flavored dorkiness in him. Campbell, with her braces and what-the-fuck stance, is slightly less accomplished, but is nevertheless a stark and welcome voice of frankness. And Broderick finally graduates into his career’s middle age, and has since been playing schlubby, unhappy bureaucrats simply because he was so damn great at it in Election. He has many brilliant moments—holding that champagne bottle up to his puffed-up eye; crouching down in a bathtub while scrubbing his genitals in preparation for a date with Linda; reacting with a blinkered shock at Tracy’s threatening request to have an attorney present; riding around slumped in that dirty old Ford Festiva, which is the perfect small car for a small man. There are really a hundred reasons to see Election more than once, but Broderick’s performance comes near the top of the list.
At the top, though, are Payne’s direction and the script he co-wrote with writing partner Jim Taylor (the Oscar-nominated screenplay was adapted from a book by Tom Perotta, in which Tracy was decidedly more sexual, a detail that the writing duo wisely decided to drop for the movie). Chief among Payne’s concerns are effective pacing and believability, I think, and he achieves these goals using all the tools at his disposal. For instance, he casts non-actors whenever he can, and doing so adds an undeniable verisimilitude to the ensemble. He refuses to over art-direct things, resulting in suitably prison-like high school rooms and drab middle-class homes. He’s always into goosing up the visuals with magnificently well-chosen freeze frames (that first one of Tracy, which catches her in an awkward and ugly mid-sentence moment, is a scream), wipes, split-screen, graphics, handheld 16mm footage, weird rear-projections, delightfully out-of-place stock footage, and ghostly overlays (I love the one he does with Tracy’s gigantic, expressive mouth whispering into Mr. M’s worried ear: “When I win the presidency, you and I are going to be spending lots of time together…lots and lots of time. President and advisor. Harmonious and productive. Close and special. You and I”). He has Rolfe Kent deliver a smart and diverse backing score, but also wisely uses needle drops from Donovan, Joey Altruda, Mandy Barnett, Patience and Prudence, and Ennio Morricone (whose shrieking music from Navajo Joe effectively punctuates Tracy’s most violent emotions). And the director never forgets that the writing should remain in constant focus. 1999 was a landmark year in movies, but with Election, scriptwriters Payne and Taylor reminded us that ideas, story, character and dialogue are still king, even as shiny-clean visual treats like Pixar’s talking toys and The Matrix’s copious bullets were flying about all around us.
How Election made the Top 100:
No. 27 Samuel Wilson
No. 48 Ed Howard
No. 57 Maurizio Roca
McAllister’s actions are understandable. Tracy IS a monster—a busy-body know-it-all whose overachievement hides a barren soul devoid of empathy or charity.
Indeed, Dean, excellent observation! Well, at the present time I teach in an elementary/Jr. High School, but I did at one time lead ninth and tenth grade classes in a vocational high school and saw up front some of the issues examined in what much surely be the deepest film yet made about teacher and student relations, and the moral dilemmas that can lead upstanding citizens to sow their own professional destruction. This is definitely a comedy, but it’s one with serious ramifications and bite, a satire that takes on political chicanery, and how a personal agenda can uproot civic duty, of how corruption can bring down a system that preaches the complete opposite. ELECTION may well be the finest high school satire, and it vies with Payne’s SIDEWAYS as the best film of an impressive career that still has a long way to go.
Dean you have written up a storm here, leaving no stone unturned, examining the film from all angles and taking in the aspects that shine brightest, including that unforgettable school assembly, razor-sharp, incisive dialogue (written by Payne and Jim Taylor) and fabulous performance by Reese Witherspoon (whose best role this is still to this day) Matthew Broderick, Chris Klein, and and Jessica Campbell and others. I think you hit the bulls-eye by citing ‘pacing’ and ‘believability’ as the narrative devices that carry the film a very long way. Yes I absolutely love composer Kente’s use of Morricone’s “Navajo Joe” music to denote Tracy’s most violent emotions, but his score is quite effective overall as you note. Also, when you astutely state the film is loaded with ‘victims’ I can’t agree with you more.
But like any great comedy -or film of any kind for that matter- writing is what is most vital, and on that strength of that ELECTION soars.
Fantastic review Dean!
Thank you, Sam. It’s an honor to be a part of this estimable series, to be sure!
Astute, well-written and persuasive piece here, Dean – a really sharp entry. I didn’t quite warm to Payne until Sideways, when he loosened up the airless stylization (and with it swapping the drabness of Midwestern locales for something a bit mote enticing) and shifted the ratio of condescension to compassion in the latter’s favor. But there’s no denying Election is a brilliantly conceived and exercised satire and your review makes me want to see it again for the first time in a decade or so. I even laughed out loud a few times reading your recaps (the apple-orange analogy is brilliant on so many levels). Which, regarding a comedy, is the most important thing you can ask for I suppose.
Thanks, Joel. I personally really think Payne should return to Omaha…I like that he’s one of the few major directors who’s from the midwest and chooses to still work there, and I fear he’s sold out to the coasts, and that his movies are suffering for it.
I will not be surprised if I am on my own, but for me Election, About Schmidt, and Sideways, while interesting and enjoyable first up, quickly faded from memory, and after a few years I can’t fathom why I thought there was something beyond the surface. To take the dominant analogy in Dean’s piece, Payne’s movie’s are like sex. All very urgent and imperative at the time, but after the payload is delivered, you wonder what all the fuss was about.
While all of the essays submitted for publication and exhibition for this count have been, in total, excellent, this one (along with Tony D’Ambra’s wonderful estimation of Sturges’ MIRACLE AT MORGAN CREEK) has really set the bar high for all that remain.
The, above, consideration is a painstakingly detailed and observant treatise of one of the great recent delves into pseudo/political satire and every observation that the author has made is spot on. I saw this one when it was first released and Sam and I were the most formiddable moviegoers on the planet. We left no stones unturned, saw everything and missed nothing. At the time, I know me and Schmulee were averaging about 180 to 200 films in theatres a year and we were very thorough about reading the reviews before seeing each film so we could guage the critical consensus versus our take.
ELECTION was one of the rare birds that flew under our wire. We went on opening night where it was playing in a downtown theatre near Union Square, hadn’t had the chance to read the papers, were not computer savvy at the time. We walked into this one blind (along with Lucille and about a half dozen film-loving friends) and were, promptly, bowled over by the film. What immediately struck us was that the director was taking no prisoners with the satire and did so by making sure that every character and situation rang true with the utmost attention to real-life detail. With this film there is nary a false note in the plotting and character establishment, doesn’t shy away from getting dirty or trashy to make it’s blatant point and didn’t apologize for doing so. The actors all rate and receive pitch perfect performances and Matthew Broderick was never more letter perfect than he is here as the hapless school-teacher drowning in his own self serving greed and stupidity.
Yet, beyond all that there is to admire about ELECTION, Payne’s secret weapon of mass destruction is the career-making turn of Reese Witherspoon. We all knew or bumped into a student like Tracy Flick when we went to school or college and Witherspoons performance is a veritable powder-keg of tick-like annoyances that slowly burrow their way under your skin and race to your brain to scramble logical conception. She is a twister of straight thinking by thinking straight and always having an answer. She is RIGHT but so smarmy in her conviction that she is you just wanna reach through the screen, wrap your fingers around her throat, and crush her wind-pipe. She’s the kind of person you laugh at and mock straight to her face but writhe away from when you realize that she’s acheived everything she’s set out to do and has become far more successful career wise and financially. It’s a performance of great cunning that always stays in the mode of wild-cat pouncing, yet devoid of any true soulful emotion. Witherspoon was robbed of an Oscar nomination with this, her very best performance to date.
Above it all, ELECTION is that satire that not only informs and makes snide comments that reveal the idiocy of those involved professionally in politics, it’s one of the most achingly funny laugh riots in recent cinematic comedy. It’s rare that I can remember a contemporary comedy film that rattled an audience so thoroughly that you could not only hear the laughter from the theatre if you walked by, but had every audience member walking out of the auditorium doubled over from stomach pains brought on from insane giggling till their air supply grew thin.
How I forgot to include this film on my ballot is something that not only perplexes me but embarasses me at the same time. This essay proves, definatively, why it should be considered one of the 100 greatest comedies of all time.
For those that have not seen ELECTION, you don’t know what you’re missing. To this day, I still think that Alexander Payne hit his highest note with this gem of a film.
Dean Treadway deserves a standing ovation for his work here. BRAVO!!!!!!!
Thanks so much, Dennis!
I think I prefer ‘Sideways’ of Payne’s movies. ‘Election’ does a great job though of balancing comedy and far more serious issues. Witherspoon and Broderick are top-notch. Good work.
I certainly prefer Sideways as well Frank. It has the perfect blend of comedy and drama. It’s one of those movies that has never faded from my memory. Payne really does a great job of immersing the viewer into the Santa Ynez Valley wine country setting. Unlike some the director’s other films, Sideways eases up on the disdain for his characters and offers up some convincing empathy. Election (and The Descendants) are flawed in comparison, but still worthy comedies.
Nice piece Dean….
Thank you so much!
I also count SIDEWAYS as my fave Payne film but ELECTION is right up there. The razor-sharp satire is spot-on and like how no-one is exempt from it in the film. It really stands out from other high school-set films because it features such a mature and confident take on the material that is light years away from the AMERICAN PIE films and its ilk. There is a wee bit of irony in that Chris Klein, so good in ELECTION, would go on to play a similar character in the AMERICAN PIE franchise.
This is really some of Matthew Broderick’s best work – if not his best. He really lets it all hang out and isn’t afraid to look silly or have his character be portrayed in an unflattering light. Even though his character is flawed you still feel empathy for him and I think this is due in large part to Broderick’s expressive eyes that always seem to exude humanity. Few films have been able to really utilize the actor’s considerable talents but Payne sure does.
Like Tony, my enthusiasm for the career of Payne has waned (though I suppose I’m different as I did like him much more at one point than he appears to have), as his once biting, grey satires (even then call them ‘Solondz-lite’) have become quite softened for the closet conservatives amongst us. Essentially formulaic pieces (and I’m speaking of his last two, SIDEWAYS and especially THE DESCENDANTS) of either traditional love or bourgeoisie malaise (you really want me to feel sorry for someone who looks like George Clooney and lives in Hawaii? Good luck with that), they beguile his earlier works (ELECTION and specifically ABOUT SCHMIDT which I think is his most honest film). Still, at this point in his career he was talented enough to tell essentially the same story (different yes, but very similar in theme), in the same year, in a similar fashion of the film that won the Oscar for Best Picture (AMERICAN BEAUTY) but better it in its more stripped down aesthetic. It wonderfully skipped the artful leanings of AMERICAN BEAUTY that sometimes seem arbitrary to downright superfluous and instead delivered the meat and potatoes satire, which is what the cultured always needs (and certainly did in ’99).
I definitely prefer the more biting Payne/Taylor screenplays for ELECTION and CITIZEN RUTH over what I see is a softening of these qualities in a perfectly fine but unmemorable movie like THE DECENDANTS (which I think is Paynes first movie without Taylor as a collaborator). I love how Payne never shies away from having distasteful characters at the center. Even Paul Giamatti, in SIDEWAYS, is an asshole, although not as brazen and charming a one as Thomas Haden Church is in the same film. CITIZEN RUTH might be Payne’s ultimate anti-hero; she’s requisitely difficult to even wanna be in the same room with, much less sympathize with, yet Payne (and Dern) get us on her side, eventually (mainly because the people surrounding her are such travesties of humanity). ABOUT SCHMIDT is a movie I haven’t returned to in a decade or so, but perhaps it’s time to do so. I seem to remember having some problems with it (the Ndugu letters seemed like a tired device). But I did remember thinking Nicholson had never quite delivered such a wonderfully airless performance like that before.
I also think Sideways and The Descendants have been lesser works. After About Schmidt, Payne went downhill. I think Sideways and The Descendants especially are very disappointing and predictable.
As far as “raising the bar”, I’d say about five of the comedy reviews I’ve read have done just that. Dean’s work is very nice, and brings back memories of my viewing years ago when I lived in Syracuse, N.Y. I actually prefer this film to “Sideways”, “About Schmidt” and “The Descendants” (the last is the weakest) as the dialogue is more pointed, and the satire most biting.
As Payne and Perotta may have known, there was a longstanding rule in the comic book business, and probably elsewhere in the print trades, never to use the word “FLICK” in any context. Because of the poor quality of ink and paper, editors worried that the bases of the capital L and I would merge to make the five-letter word a four-letter one. Makes Flick a perfect name for the little Nixonette Witherspoon portrays in a turn that should have earned her an Oscar. I like it best of Payne’s pictures, though Sideways has a different set of virtues and Citizen Ruth is often a riot. Election is one of our best satires of how the political becomes personal, and Payne might have become the Sturges of our generation had he not shifted in another direction. Nice job, Dean.
Thanks! And thanks for pointing out that terrific observation. I’ll never look at those cupcakes with “PICK FLICK” on them quite the same way again!
I knew of this old printers rule (especially true in newsprint), and there are a few others, but never occurred to connect it to this film. Bravo, and quite apt.
I am embarassed to admit that this is the one and only Alexander Payne film I have not seen. And your excellent post is a reminder to me to get ELECTION into my Netflix queue immediately.
That’s the best compliment of all! Thanks, Pat!
OMG, how have I completely missed this film! I have a monster love for Payne’s ‘About Schmidt’, and didn’t even know this was one of the man’s earlier efforts. Dunce.
As for the year in cinema for 1999, someone take ‘American Beauty’, please. A repellent stereotype of suburban America about which elite filmmakers who live in Bel-Air know nothing because they’re too busy lunching at The Palm. Every cliche in the Hollywood film director’s anti-conservative rule book, including the one about the military martinet who turns out to be a repressed homosexual.
Anyhow, Dean, a great, full essay and ‘Election’ is now on my must-see list.
Just check out CITIZEN RUTH. With ELECTION and that film, I think Payne (and Taylor) single themselves out. And thanks for the compliments!
Dean, you certainly have written a great essay here and your treatment is a great case for why this film should be included on this countdown. I do like the film and it is funny. Witherspoon is terrifically annoying and Broderick (who I love to hate) is actually fun to watch here too.
As far as Alexander Payne goes, I have not liked his films since About Schmidt. I think Election and About Schmidt are fine works, but Sideways and The Descendants are predictable, condescending, strained etc. I have soured on his work, much like Jamie mentions above.
Your piece here though is great like I said and you bring back all the reasons for why it’s a fine film.
To me, what makes Election so valuable is that it not only presents a satirical, cynical view of American society but also that it features a setting with a double-edged sword: Virtually all of us can identify and reminisce about our own high school experiences (i.e., coming of age); plus, by going back to the formative years of high school, we’re given good clarity on the roots of corruption.
I agree that Witherspoon’s performance is very good — although her earlier work in Freeway (mid-90s, I think) is as good if not better. I highly recommend seeing it.
Thanks for the excellent analysis. This was a preliminary nominee for my own list, and I’m at a loss as to why I didn’t include it in the final.
Another fantastic essay which has continued to make this poll an excellent read thus far. Before reading your post I did not think that this movie was vivid in my memory, however you have brought it back to me quite clearly along with adding commentary and depth to my recollections. Echoing what I wrote in my comment on Before John Malkovich, you have also made me want to view Election with your thoughts in mind. Thank you Dean.
I really cannot remember if I saw this prior to becoming a teacher or afterwards, but regardless I now view it from my eyes as a high school teacher and can say that in my experience its observations of competitiveness within certain types of teaching staff are very well observed. I have met teachers – obviously I will not go into detail here on whether I have worked with them or not – who through their conversation revealed that they wanted to see certain students fail at endeavours or be belittled, and certainly would not put themselves in a situation where they could possibly be seen as inferior in any way to their students. That this profession brings out the worst insecurities in adults who should be supportive is worrying and I hope that this is not something that I fall prey to; indeed, I have always felt that teaching should make its professionals want to aspire to be better human beings.
But this does not detract from just how hilarious this satire is, just a very near the knuckle portrait of high school pathologies from individuals young and older (in body if not in mind) and I especially appreciated that in the end, if memory serves, there was every indication that all of these people did not grow or appreciably change once they were away from the high school setting. This is in the upper echelon of all high school films, comedy or otherwise.
Sorry, I forgot to change my settings and so my wordpress handle was used instead of “David L”, not that it really matters!