The Best Man

Two days ago I lambasted The Ides of March for its empty-headed analysis of Presidential politics. Franklin J. Schaffner's The Best Man (1964) tells a similar story much, much better. Based on Gore Vidal's play, it's a very dark, very smart satire of politics just before America exploded into '60s radicalism.

Two Presidential candidates wage a fierce battle for their party's nomination. Secretary of State William Russell (Henry Fonda) has the smarts and liberal principles, but his extramartial affairs and shady personal history threaten to derail his campaign. Demagogic Senator Joe Cantwell (Cliff Robertson), the "voice of conservative America," has popular support and charisma, but his ruthless ambition qualify his electibility. Both men court the ailing ex-President (Lee Tracy), who can't swallow Russell's amorality but hates Cantwell's phoniness. Russell stumbles across an unspeakable bombshell about Cantwell, debating whether to release it.

The Best Man perfectly captures a nation on the political precipe. Old-fashioned liberal Russell has many skeletons in his closet and naive optimism out of step with the times. Cantwell embodies everything wrong with '60s politics: the charisma of Jack Kennedy, the conservatism of Barry Goldwater, the social climbing and class resentment of Richard Nixon. Cantwell is an unprincipled bastard but the film names him as the shrewdest judge of the people: smears and sound bites register more than logic. His opponents don't stand a chance; playing Cantwell's game only makes them look bad. The happy ending seems a cheat, a perhaps-naive hope that the worst man can be defeated.

In some ways, too, The Best Man seems eerily prescient. This year's GOP circus boils down to a contest of who can be nastiest, with Gingrich and Romney in particular pommelling each other with negative ads and accusations of "flip-flopping." The movie's frankness about sexual issues, from Russell's promiscuity to an accusation of homosexuality, certainly seems modern. Politics has never been a gentleman's game but the '60s saw it slide into the mud. We're still living with the consequences of that era, with media manipulation, mudslinging and demagoguery permeating our discourse.

Henry Fonda is obvious casting: who better to play the wise old-fashioned liberal than Tom Joad and Juror Number 8? More interesting is Cliff Robertson, giving an intense, chillingly credible portrait of a ruthless politico. Edie Adams got an Oscar nomination for a throwaway part: Margaret Leighton (7 Women) as Fonda's long-suffering wife makes a stronger impression. Lee Tracy is superb as the cantankerous elder statesman. Ann Sothern's wonderfully horrible party matriarch and John Henry Faulk's gladhanding Southern governor steal their scenes. Kevin McCarthy plays Russell's campaign manager and Shelley Berman has a secret from Cantwell's past.

The Best Man has aged better than most of its contemporaries. Like other films of the era (Seven Days in May), it reaffirms hope that liberalism and civic virtue will ultimately win out. But it's a near-run thing this time around, and future generations won't be so lucky.