Bobby Review

November 27, 2006 3:19 PM
by [email]

I can’t think of a better time for Emilio Estevez’s “Bobby” to hit theaters – what with draft legislation hovering above the table, the war raging, headlines uglier each day. But don’t stop reading if you think that “Bobby” - which is not a biopic but, rather, a multi-plotted depiction of assassination night – is political propaganda that just happens to be densely populated by Tinseltown’s top stars.

It does open with news footage – interspersed throughout- and start with such a slow burn I found myself wondering if I was going to be confused by chit-chat for an hour and a half. But Estevez’s script captures the time (June 6th, 1968) and the place (the Ambassador hotel) with rich detail from the costumes to the music. His characters may be star-struck and outwardly simplistic, but his writing – sharp and rich – makes them more than that.

The most interesting character, initially, is the Ambassador’s manager (William H. Macy), a man righteous enough to fire an employee (Christian Slater) for racist slights, while enjoying a behind-closed-doors affair with a pretty phone operator (Heather Graham). Then there’s the hotel stylist (Sharon Stone), busy with an onslaught of June brides including Diane (Lindsay Lohan) and busier with the diva shenanigans of a washed-up singer (Demi Moore) set to introduce Senator Kennedy later that night.

Magically, Moore and Stone do not upstage each other. It’s about artistry, not about glamour – although glamour is the preoccupation of another hotel guest (Helen Hunt) traveling with her husband (Martin Sheen, father of the director) and stressing technicalities (shoes, for instance).

The fact that I’m more than halfway through this review and haven’t introduced half of the characters - “Bobby” is the type of movie where a waiter enters a kitchen and it’s Laurence Fishburne - makes Estevez’s achievement all the more impressive. Not only does he write dozens, literally dozens, of characters – from Ashton Kutcher’s god-invoking stoner to Elijah Wood’s nervous draftee - he develops them. He gives them great, sparse writing - Anthony Hopkins’ speech on work and family is as unsentimental as they come. And then he throws them in the middle of a close-quarters frenzy demolished instantaneously by a gunman who has innocuously wandered into the hotel fray.

It isn’t just the creepy off-screen voice, or the gunshots, or the expertly fragmented images that follow – hotel guests we have, in less than two hours, come to know – wounded and covered in blood. Estevez has taken on the most ambitious of projects, throwing us themes as lofty as love and loyalty, giving them humor and humanity, and blowing them to bits. It might be a metaphor, but it also is a timeless film.

Grade: A-
By Jenny Halper