The Campaign: Disapointing, or Meta?

In a few months millions of Americans will theoretically flood to the polls to cast their vote for who will be the next man to spearhead our proverbial hand basket of a country into its own proverbial hell. The presidential election, along with political elections on any kind of mass scale, are more circus spectacle than epitome of due process, the Academy Awards of the nation's future, except the winner is handed trillions of dollars in national debt as opposed to a mantle-sized gold statuette. Coincidentally, the audiences for both ceremonies stand to benefit very little from whomever emerges victorious.

That's depressing to think about, but sometimes all we need to cope with the overwhelming oppression of the futility of our actions is to have a good chuckle. Enter Jay Roach, who not only knows a thing or two about comedy (Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery, Meet the Parents) but also knows a thing or two about political intrigue (Recount, Game Change). The Campaign, Roach's most recent directorial effort, is in fact interested in political intrigue, but only enough to lampoon the campaign and electoral process for the farce it's become.

One of the taglines for The Campaign is "May the Best Loser Win" and indeed, you'd be hard pressed to find two bigger losers running for the 14th Senate district of North Carolina than Cam Brady (Will Ferrell) and Marty Huggins (Zack Galifianakis). The former, the incumbent running unopposed for a 5th consecutive term, is the quintessential political blowhard, making all the right promises and posing for all the right photos while making all the right moves to cover up the moral and ethical shortcomings that come hand-in-hand with such an ego. The latter, the son of a former congressman, is noteworthy only in how he sticks out in a crowd, with his unassuming waddle, his southern lisp and his pair of matching pugs.

At the outset of the film, Cam's campaign manager, Mitch (Jason Sudeikis), points out that his approval rating is dropping rapidly, the unfortunate but imminent result of a salacious voicemail the politician accidentally left for his mistress on the answering machine of an average American voter. This doesn't behoove the interests of Glenn (John Lithgow) and Wade Motch (Dan Aykroyd), two CEOs who need to find a new political foothold in the 14th district in order to build sweatshops that'll dramatically cut the cost of shipping from their expenses. Guess who they choose to back as their puppet candidate?

Trouble is, Marty doesn't realize he's a puppet. He sees the support as a way to prove his worth to his displeased father, Raymond (Brian Cox), a former Senator firmly in the corporation's pocket. As Marty Huggins gets caught up in the political machine, shenanigans ensue. Also, Marty shoots Cam in the leg. Also, Cam makes Marty touch his balls during a debate. Also, Cam makes a sex tape with Marty's wife. Also, Cam punches a baby…and then Uggy, the dog from The Artist.

As an escape for the straight-faced absurdity of real-life politics, The Campaign can best be described as adequate. No one would rightfully expect for a mainstream comedy to explore the intricacies of American politics as exhaustingly as the engrossing Recount, so in its stead, we would rightfully expect lots of laughs. While moments of humor punctuate the film, The Campaign could only be dubbed, as some critics have already called it: the funniest film of the year if no other comedies were released this year.

Part of this has to do with the fact that The Campaign doesn't strive to be any more profound that an R-rated comedy should be (kudos to the filmmakers for acknowledging their limits). But part of it is also due to the fact that The Campaign is yet another entry into the revolving door of mediocre comedies seemingly spawned from the "Who Can We Stick Next to Will Ferrell?" school of studio filmmaking with Galifianakis filling in for the role of second fiddle comedian. This position has previously been occupied by Mark Wahlberg (The Other Guys), Danny McBride (Land of the Lost) and John C. Reilly (Step Brothers), each falling at various different points on the hilarity-scale. It’s hit and miss.

That's not to say Galifianakis is overshadowed. In fact, if there's a reason to highlight The Campaign it's the fact that Galifianakis shines, completely disappearing into the character of Marty Huggins—similar to how Ferrell so completely became Ron Burgundy in 2004's Anchorman. It's not just that Galifianakis gets the biggest laughs (though he does), it's also that does a far superior job in making Huggins a more interesting and likable character than Ferrell does for his Cam Brady. Sure, we crack up when we see Huggins trying restrain his anger when his young sons reveal transgressions the press could latch onto (one let a petting zoo goat lick one's penis, the other put a lightning bug up their rear so they could get glowing farts), but it's also a bit heartbreaking to see Huggins's tears after Brady's mudslinging begins full scale. It's not too little too late, but it's too little in a film of too littles. Still, in this day and age, perhaps it's a brilliant little piece of meta to have a comedy about politicians not live up to expectations.