Sunday, August 11, 2013

In the Loop

With Peter Capaldi recently crowned the next Doctor Who, it's a good time to revisit his most famous role. Armando Iannucci's In the Loop (2009) is a spin-off of his BBC series The Thick of It, a mordant satire mixing The West Wing and Yes, Minister. Capaldi's foulmouthed, piratical spin doctor Malcolm Tucker is one of television's great creations, transferred intact to the big screen.

The US and UK gear up for war in the Middle East while maintaining a vague public stance. Britain's Secretary of State for International Development Simon Forster (Tom Hollander) tells a BBC reporter that war is "unforeseeable," enraging Malcolm Tucker (Capaldi), the Prime Minister's PR point-man. Malcolm sends Simon and his assistant Toby (Chris Addison) to meet with American official Linton Barwick (David Rasche) in DC. The Brits find State Department official Karen Clark (Mimi Kennedy) eager to avert war, though Toby's more interested in hooking up with her assistant Liz (Anna Chlumsky). Tired of Simon's cock-ups, Malcolm and hatchet man Jamie McDonald (Paul Higgins) arrive Stateside to handle things personally.

Many reviewers compare In the Loop to Dr. Strangelove, but it's most obvious progenitor is The Office: the same hand-held camerawork, improvised dialogue and absurd office politics. Inquisitive reporters make mincemeat of the hapless Simon, a dunce unable to help his constituents rebuild a brick wall. The Brits are disturbed by DC's glut of 20-something assistants, with Malcolm denigrating the "master race of toddlers" executing American policy. In politics as with business, we see characters swallowing their beliefs for personal advancement. The difference, of course, is that the cast's eccentricities play on a world stage, with dire consequences.


The depressing thing about In the Loop is that it's scarcely exaggerated. The Iraq War already seems a distant memory, even though sectarian violence continues in that country. But anyone who recalls Donald Rumsfeld's incoherent musings on "known unknowns" will wince at Barwick's ridiculous analogies ("All roads lead to Munich") and Simon's "climbing the mountain of conflict."  Simon seems like a distaff Clare Short, an antiwar Blair official who thought it braver not to resign when war began. Few of the characters actually want war, but lack the guts to oppose it.

Iannucci does a good job selling Thick of It's premise to an international audience. By focusing on foreign policy, he downplays the intricacies of British politics that might throw casual viewers. He downplays the Anglo-American culture clash, though Malcolm takes strong offense when someone calls him "English." Still, the character dynamics, dry wit and semi-improvised profanity arrive intact. It's a textbook satire, gutbustingly funny yet strikingly credible. Iannucci's currently helming Veep for HBO.

Peter Capaldi inevitably dominates. If Malcolm's less complex than his TV incarnation, Loop nails the character's utter lack of scruples and imaginative tirades. It's certainly fun watching him threaten to demolish the BBC and recoil at American bonhomie while dropping more F bombs than Tommy DeVito. Yet for all his bluster, he's merely a pawn of his political masters. Later on he trades barbs with General Miller (James Gandolfini), the pacifist Pentagon official who calls him out as a lapdog. Capaldi makes Malcolm a ruthless bastard you can't help rooting for, even while drawing two countries towards war.

Loop brims with Thick of It regulars, though only Capaldi and Paul Higgins reprise their series roles. James Smith, Alex MacQueen, Olivia Paulet and Joanna Scanlan assay variants on familiar parts. Chris Addison's Toby is a crasser version of Thick's Ollie. He's set up as our hero, but proves more interested in "antiwar shags" than politics. Simon upbraids Toby in a delectably sarcastic rant: "[At least] you didn't whip out your dick, pluck it and shout 'Willy Banjo!'" In contrast, Gina McKee (Atonement) proves level-headed enough to resolve most situations, cheerily shrugging off Malcolm's sexist barbs.

In the Loop adds several stars to the familiar ensemble. Tom Hollander (Land of the Blind) makes a brilliantly frazzled doofus, out of his depth both in diplomacy and politics. He's a master malaproper, from his bizarre public statements to proclaiming intelligence work "lemon difficult." James Gandolfini fits snuggly into the cast: the self-proclaimed "Gore Vidal of the Pentagon," Miller whimsically projects casualties on a children's calculator. He loudly opposes the war but proves as craven as everyone else. David Rasche hits the right note of banal smugness, with Mimi Kennedy and Anna Chlumski as his opponents. Steve Coogan gets a memorable bit as one of Forster's hapless constituents. 

Nothing better points up differences in American and British culture than their reactions to political catastrophe. Hollywood responded to Bush's wars with earnest but dull dramas like Lions for Lambs and Syriana. The Brits meanwhile produced black comedies like In the Loop and Four Lions. Whether or not they made a difference, the latter hold up much better.

No comments:

Post a Comment