PRIMARY COLORS: Blu-ray (Universal, 1998) Universal Home Video

Bill Clinton’s presidency inspired a myriad of spoofs, goofs and otherwise social guffaws, endlessly lampoon-able, but otherwise long-since set aside, particularly in the liberal media, who collectively lean, and rather one-sided too, in favor of anything their side does, quietly observing their own easily exposed derailments through decidedly thick rose-colored glasses. “I did not have sex with that woman.” Sound familiar? Personally, I prefer the quips that came from audience members attending the Oprah Winfrey Show on the eve news of Clinton’s tryst with White House intern, Monica Lewinsky broke, one suggesting the new Presidential anthem should be ‘Hail to the Cheat’, while another preferred, ‘Yank My Doodle, It’s a Dandy.’ More noteworthy on every score however, is the late Mike Nichols’ salaciously on-point satire: Primary Colors (1998), based on a novel whose author, journalist, Joe Klein so intensely feared public reprisals, it was first published ‘anonymously’; its full title, Primary Colors: A Novel of Politics, a rather shamelessly transparent roman à clef of Clinton’s first run for the White House in 1992. Klein, who presently writes for Time Magazine and holds journalism to a higher standard than most of his contemporaries, has written several other majors works; none, as scathingly sober as Primary Colors. The novel was adapted by Elaine May, whose working relationship with Nichols extends all the way back to the early 1950’s when she – then, an aspiring comedienne (to go on and become a director, screenwriter and actress), teamed with Nichols to produce some of the best improvisational comedy ever performed for The Compass Players.  In later years, Nichols would acknowledge, “It became mostly pleasure because of Elaine's generosity. The fact of Elaine—her presence—kept me going. She was the only one who had faith in me. I loved it... We had a similar sense of humor and irony... When I was with her, I became something more than I had been before.”

Primary Colors stars John Travolta in a brilliant re-interpretation of Clinton-esque politico, Governor Jack Stanton – a mesmerizing transformation actually, as Travolta navigates his way through the labyrinth of aping a very public figure, delivering a performance, at once, uncannily Clintonian in demeanor, and yet, even more miraculously, to stand apart as its own enigma, with Emma Thompson, as Stanton’s wife, Susan lending a softer side to the magnetic gargoyle Hilary Clinton has since, and once-too-often revealed herself to be. Equally as brilliant, Kathy Bates, as rough and ready political probe, Libby Holden, hired by the Stantons to investigate, and possibly put a spin on the claim of a seduction made by one, Cashmere McLeod (Gia Carides). Other notables in the cast included Billy Bob Thornton, as Stanton’s cold-blooded political strategist, Richard Jemmons, Maura Tierney (no-nonsense spokeswoman, Daisy Green) and Paul Guilfoyle, as wily political operator, Howard Ferguson.  Into this den of well-seasoned thieves steps the political virgin, Henry Burton (Adrian Lester); hired mostly for his blind-sided optimism as Stanton’s campaign manager, and thus destined to have his bright-eyed idealism trampled upon as the stain and sting of various political sex scandals heats up on the road from New Hampshire to the White House. The opening scene that forever cements the Stantons’ frosty relationship also kick-starts this black comedy on a particularly sadistic note; Susan, awaiting her husband’s return on the tarmac. He leans in for an embrace. She turns to a block of stone, promising Henry that Jack Stanton – public figure and presidential hopeful – might indeed be poised for greatness, if only “he was not such a faithless, thoughtless, disorganized, undisciplined shit.” Oh yeah, you have to love this gal!

Following the publication of the book in 1996, Nichols paid more than a million for the screen rights. And although Primary Colors would go on to garner high praise for its Clintonian aspects, its performances, and, its deft and excoriating writing style, Nichols was heavily criticized for the excision of an interracial love scene; defending its deletion by suggesting it did not play well during previews.  Whether or not Clinton’s popularity, or the pall of the Lewinsky scandal had anything to do with the final tally; Primary Colors tanked at the box office; barely earning back $39 million domestically and another $13 million in foreign, against its budgetary outlay of $65 million – a dud by most record-keeping accounts.  And yet, the picture remains a fascinating entertainment, expertly written and briskly directed by Nichols, who infuses this thinly fabricated facsimile of a headline-ripping scandal, already splashed across the tabloids and on everyone’s lips, with something quite refreshingly undiluted, original and heartfelt.  Jack Stanton is not simply a Clinton knock-off, as nothing Travolta ever gives us throughout his performance is a mere ‘joke’ or ‘jibe’ of the man; but rather, an intuitive reading of a fictional film-based figment with far too much leisure time for his own good, and infinitely graver concerns looming over his presidential candidacy. The great love of Jack Stanton’s life remains Jack Stanton – unapologetic and selfish to a fault, even as he throws his unofficial chief strategist and wife, Susan under the proverbial bus of a very public humiliation she is powerless to remake, except to polish away the tarnished edges, hoping enough residual shine comes through to make the voters forget her husband’s shortcomings. Sue, more than Jack, gets the importance of introductions; that split-second, seemingly disposable instance of contact with virtual strangers, where everlasting reputations are forged. “First impressions count, asshole!” she tells Jack.

Primary Colors begins with the arrival of Henry Burton, a blind-sighted political idealist, and, the grandson of a civil rights leader.  Burton has pledged his political loyalties to Governor Jack Stanton, a charismatic Southern Democrat, making his run for the White House. First impressions are powerful and lasting, and Henry, having already drank the political ‘Kool-Aid’ views Stanton as a man of genuine warmth and empathy for the people. In short order, we are introduced to Stanton's inner circle: his formidable wife, Susan, cutthroat strategist, Richard Jemmons, articulate spokeswoman, Daisy Green and enterprising operator, Howard Ferguson. After Stanton completes an impressive debate against his Democratic rivals, Henry's ex-girlfriend (Rebecca Walker) grills Stanton about his arrest for an anti-war protest during the 1968 Democratic Convention in Chicago. She also exposes how Stanton tapped a U.S. senator to get released from jail and ‘persuaded’ Chicago’s mayor to have his police record expunged. Fearing political reprisals for his past indiscretions, the Stantons hire wild card, Libby Holden to probe the depths of Jack’s colorful past, looking for any and every faux pas that might be used to mash is campaign ambitions into the dust.

Jack’s Achilles’ Heel is his notorious ‘rumored’ womanizing; brought from the shadows and half-light into the full aperture of his dawning campaign by one of his mistresses, Cashmere McLeod – who also happens to be Susan’s hairdresser. McLeod secretly taped all of their conversations, now being used as proof of their affair. Only Henry discovers these tapes have been doctored.  With unabashed devotion to Jack, who has always been her ideal – politically, and, otherwise, Libby hunts down the slimy P.I. Charlie Martin (Chelcie Ross), responsible for the tapes and forces him at gunpoint to sign a confession of his guilt. With one crisis narrowly averted, another almost immediately springs to light when Stanton’s old friend, ‘Big Willie’ McCollister (Tommy Hollis) confides in Henry, his 17-year-old daughter, Loretta (Bianca Lawson), a babysitter formerly in the Stantons’ employ, is pregnant with Jack’s child. Henry and Howard tell Willie his daughter must undergo an amniocentesis to determine paternity and, until then, remain silent.  Despite momentarily quashing this scandal, both are sickened by the experience.

Aware that the momentum in his campaign has begun to slacken, Stanton attacks his nearest rival, Senator Lawrence Harris (Kevin Cooney) for his anti-Israel stance as well as his cost-cutting measures on Social Security and Medicare. Harris confronts Stanton during a radio talk show, suffering two on-air heart attacks that sabotage his campaign. Harris’ replacement is Fred Picker (Larry Hagman) a former Florida governor whose cornfed, no-nonsense approach to politics is a direct threat to Stanton.  So, Jack and Susan send Henry and Libby on an exculpatory mission to dig up dirt on Picker's past. The trail leads to Picker’s ex-brother-in-law, Eduardo Reyes (Tony Shalhoub), who points the way to Lorenzo Delgado (John Vargas), Picker’s supplier for a cocaine addiction while governor, and, with whom Picker is rumored to have indulged in a homosexual affair that ended his first marriage. Never anticipating the magnitude of this scandal, or that the Stantons will use any of these reputation-crippling and salacious revelations to blackmail Picker out of the running, Libby and Henry share their findings and are deeply disillusioned when Jack and Susan plot to leak everything to the press. Libby threatens: if Jack destroys Picker, she will make public the fact he tampered with the paternity test that unequivocally proved Loretta’s baby is his. Unable to reconcile Jack – the man – with the idol she has worshiped from afar for so long, Libby commits suicide. Racked with guilt, Jack takes all of their incriminating evidence to Picker and apologizes for seeking it out. Faced with the truth, Picker admits to his sordid past and agrees, not only to withdraw from the race, but endorse Stanton as his candidate of choice. Disillusioned with the political process, Henry decides to quit Stanton’s campaign – delayed in his departure by Jack’s assurances, that together they can make history. We fade into President Jack Stanton’s Inaugural Ball, the First Couple surrounded by loyalists applauding their victory; Jack, reaching out to shakes hands with his campaign staff, the last of whom is Henry.

Removed from the immediacy of the Monica Lewinsky scandal, Primary Colors remains a testimonial to the Clinton’s political tenacity; an amalgam of their thinly veiled lies, perceptions, innuendos and implications, inwardly bound to a deeper – seedier truth, gradually to emerge from behind that façade, yet outwardly indestructible and decidedly Teflon-coated.  Nothing will stick to the illegitimate acts of this wily campaigner because the machinery behind him is deftly skilled to grind fact into fiction and proof into pulp before it allows this manifestly flawed flimflammer to enter the White House on his own terms – and God help his wife, his backers, his fans, and, the nation once it all comes crashing down. And Primary Colors, apart from being an amusing film, now, some 20 years removed from the Clinton presidency, and, far more recent, if fast-fading failed bid by Hilary to follow in her husband’s footsteps, seems ever more the final verdict rather than a first impression on that proposed Clinton ‘dynasty’ that never came about; Bill’s folly, exposed for what it is and shall forever remain – a dumb, silly and ridiculous misstep made by a man who still believes he was entitled to act as he did. At Stanton’s request, Henry becomes complicit in a cover-up to precede the first primary. It is through Henry, we truly get to see the Stantons for who and what they are, rather than as the image presented publicly; Jack’s outwardly laid back demeanor and Susan’s sad-eyed admiration, morphing into the isolated daydreamer and his edgy/angry swotter, perhaps more driven to succeed than her husband; certainly, more ruthless and thirsty to grasp the brass ring of power.  

Travolta’s Stanton ably trademarks Bill Clinton’s abilities as a crafty flimflam artist, with Nichols and May playing off the Clintons’ ‘priors’ - Whitewater, Gennifer Flowers, Paula Jones, etc. et al – to build their sensational storytelling into a finely-tuned exposé that can stand on its own. For anyone living outside the U.S., or born after the fact, and therefore, quite unaware of Bill and Hilary, this movie works on its own terms. But for those fully cognizant of the past, Primary Colors seems uncannily to lay bare the Clintons’ marriage as inextricably bound to their blind ambition to win at all costs. Primary Colors essentially tears down the walls otherwise precisely constructed to keep the public apart from the truth behind the image, its dead-on parallels to the Clinton chaos, effectively blurring the line between truth in art, and, the art of truth even further. Only in hindsight, does Nichols’ movie play more as a re-formatted reality to suit its own means – May’s flights into pure fiction, adding up to a more compelling movie-land blurb about a presidential candidate that never was, rather than one distinctly referenced by any real-life template.

The Stanton’s absolute catastrophe is, of course, that they can never measure up to Libby’s ‘true-believerism’ – a stand-in for all the ‘hope’ and ‘change’: necessary fuel, virtually every political candidate has run their respective campaigns on, then sets aside once the ballots have been cast in their favor, and thus, are doomed to disappoint. What Primary Colors suggests is that the art of politics is nothing more than a skewed stretch and manipulation of ‘power’ as ‘perception’. It matters not what insidious lies lurk behind the wafer-thin veneer and cardboard backing. The real point to politics is not to find its nuggets of truth behind this rather insidious game of bait and switch – if, indeed, the nuggets still exists; but, to accept its stratagems as a mass prophylactic cure-all against total anarchy in a free society. And rather ingeniously, Primary Colors illustrates this process by which manifestly irresponsible and sincerely flawed individuals are remade into the ‘perfect’ candidate; sold as a product, no different in its mass consumerism than say, advertisements for mouthwash, tampons and that ‘new car’ smell, with an inconspicuous malevolence on the part of each political party to pitch on slogans and platitudes alone – easily marketable, if only as theory. These cannot, and will never actually, function in reality. But, in the end, it really doesn’t matter. The sadder reality here is, that as far as the machinery of politics was ever concerned – nothing matters. Nothing - except winning - ever did!   

Primary Colors arrives on Blu-ray at long last via Universal Home Video proper. The studio has become so expert at farming out their product to third-party distributors, every time they elect to release a deep catalog movie on their own, it becomes something of a curiosity and cause for consternation. Similarly, Primary Colors makes the leap to 1080p without any fine-tuning of the digital files that were used to master the DVD release back in 1999. So, what is here is, of course, in no way indicative of what the image could look like if a new 2K or – perish the thought – 4K remaster had been performed in readiness of this hi-def release. But no: we get whatever Uni had at its disposal. That said, Primary Colors was afforded some consideration back in 1999. So, the 1080p derivative here is relatively free of age-related artifacts. Colors are, of course, not as robust as one might hope. Reds and deep navy blues are prominently featured, and the lush greenery of the South looks acceptably vibrant without ever leaning to superb color reproduction. Flesh tones are wan and can, at times, lean towards a pasty pink. In fact, the image – on the whole – appears rather dated. Contrast is passable without ever being exceptional. Fine details are pleasantly realized, but again, as this is not a new scan, they too lack the refinement one might expect, if only a little more due diligence had been paid on Uni’s part. The 5.1 DTS audio is adequate. As with other Uni product slapped to disc, there are no designated chapter search options: no extras either, save a theatrical trailer. Bottom line: as a humorously based, though often gripping deconstruction of the political process, Primary Colors is, in hindsight, an important movie. It certainly delivers the goods as pure entertainment. The Blu-ray is a notch below average and that is a shame, considering it is 2019, 4K has become the new standard bearer, and Uni – in its infinite shortsightedness – continues to lag behind the competition when curating their archives for future posterity. Judge and buy accordingly.

FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)

4

VIDEO/AUDIO

3

EXTRAS

0