Review of Vice (2018) by Isaacj — 27 Jan 2019

The story of America’s most infamous vice president, wager of the War on Terror Dick Cheney, is approached with bold satire here by writer-director Adam McKay. Vice acknowledges from the beginning the secretive nature of Dick Cheney and how conjecture is perhaps needed to colour in the edges. Nevertheless, this is a ferociously entertaining film, that lampoons its subject with flashy comedy and stylistic gags. Christian Bale leads as Cheney, caked in impressive makeup. Beneath the prosthetics, however, Bale delivers a stand-out performance, deadly in its quietness and oozing with callous bureaucracy (the actor thanking Satan for inspiration in his Golden Globe acceptance speech is not unfounded). We watch the events of Cheney’s life unfold; his unexpected rise from delinquency to vice presidency is told in a biopic that is pleasingly unconventional. Vice is narrated almost like a staid Michael Moore documentary, but is also unfailingly nihilistic, combining the grounded political history within amusing gags. Similarities can be made with McKay’s previous film, The Big Short, which also approaches its weighty subject with a cynical mockery that you can’t help but grin at. The deeper impact of this film is certainly undermined by the comedy (which at points is almost too light hearted), but Vice still gives a telling nod to the state of politics today without losing its biting humour.

Vice breezes nicely through a sizeable run time, snapping from frame to frame with a manic energy. The structural choices are somewhat zany, but usually add to the film’s eccentricity. McKay’s writing is unfocused at points and the narrative is far from tight-knit, though this is never at the expense of entertainment. Fourth wall breaks and a memorable scene where the characters break into Shakespearean iambic pentameter are just examples from a film that is wonderfully weird, yet never to the point of ridiculousness. Stylistic ticks like these are less ubiquitous in a final act that relies just a little too much on narration. Though Vice is carried by Christian Bale, Amy Adams looms with stony determination as the Lady Macbeth-esque Lynne and Steve Carrell’s Donald Rumsfeld is as slimy as he is energetic (Sam Rockwell’s Oscar-nominated George W Bush, in contrast, feels a little bit Saturday Night Live). Nicholas’ Britell’s score is luscious and pacey and Greig Fraser’s cinematography is as slick as it is shocking (shots of Cheney’s comfortable White House meetings snap unsettlingly quickly to flashes of the brutal torture he authorises). Vice is not perfect, its wackiness occasionally verging on messiness, but it remains a fervid and clever biopic, that uncovers the career of one of America’s most reticent yet power hungry politicians with delightfully bruising derision.