by Rich Elias, Mar 19, 1998

• Rated R
• 143 Minutes
• 3 1 /2 Stars

The novel came out years ago, thinly disguising events and key players in the Clinton campaign to win the nomination. The fact that its author was anonymous heightened speculation that this satire had to be written by a disgruntled insider. (The author was later revealed to be Joe Klein, a New York newsman.) Washington enjoyed the name game, identifying Richard Gemmons, the redneck campaign op in the novel, with James Carville, and so on. The current Time magazine cover story on the movie includes a key if you're interested.

I'm not interested, mainly because the name game directs our attention away from what "Primary Colors" is really trying to say. Focusing on how closely Governor Jack Stanton (John Travolta) is modeled on Bill Clinton or Susan Stanton (Emma Thompson) on Hilary Clinton encourages speculation on whether the movie is for Clinton or against him. What, in other words, is the its political agenda? The movie comes down on Clinton's side. Elaine May's screen adaptation makes two changes in the book's ending which align our sympathy with Stanton. But the movie also makes suggestions about our current political process which transcend the current moment. Clinton, trailing headlines, won't be around forever. The problems "Primary Colors" looks at are more enduring.

The story opens with Governor Jack Stanton (from an unnamed southern state) visiting a New York adult literary program as his primary campaign gets underway. Henry Burton, a young black ex-congressional staffer, is swept into the job of campaign manager after watching Stanton cry while listening to the sad story of one of the students. Stanton is a man of unlimited sympathy and vigorous warmth, which is displayed when he beds the program's director. His wife Susan, the brains of the operation, doesn't know or doesn't care about Stanton's indiscretions. The movie's best comic moments come from this contrast: he's always ready to cry or sing or shake hands; she's the one who works the agenda and makes campaign policy.

Burton is quickly flanked by professional campaign strategists Richard Gemmons (Billy Bob Thornton), a tough-talking self-confessed redneck, and Libby Holden (Kathy Bates), who was once Jack Stanton's chief of staff. She's "The Dustbuster," brought in when dirt starts to fly. Her first job is to quash claims by Susan's hairdresser about an affair with Stanton. Libby's quickly smokes out a scam here.

She can't prove that Stanton is innocent, nor can she prove he's innocent of other, more serious charges leveled against him. She can only pull their political sting. Henry watches her in action, fascinated and repulsed. Gemmons recognizes the signs. Henry, he says, has "T.B." -- he's a true believer who wants Stanton to be totally blameless. He wants his leader to live by his principles.

The story tracks the Stanton campaign as its leaders dodge mud thrown at them without throwing any back. Stanton refuses to "go negative" in his campaign. He won't smear his opponents. The movie's climax spells out what happens when circumstances force Stanton to change his mind. Henry watches with increasing disgust as Jack Stanton, his hero, transforms himself into just another pol.

Or is he? Primary Colors, the novel, was fun because it let us inside a campaign. The crazy people running it. The constant phone calls. The nights spent watching Nightline or CNN and analyzing it endlessly. The book was less successful at making up its mind about Stanton. You can't be pure if you're dirty.

Elaine May's screenplay concentrates mostly on Henry Burton's political education as he watches the campaign's moral implosion. She streamlines the story (by throwing out, for example, most of Henry's affair with a campaign staffer), turning Henry into a fly on the wall who functions as a stand in for our sympathies. His disgust is our disgust. Casting an unknown (Adrian Lester) helps director Mike Nichols overcome the problem that Henry has no other function. A name actor would have been a distraction.

Casting Kathy Bates as Libby, however, was brilliant. Bates steals the movie, totally up front in overdrive in every scene. Her problem is that the character shifts drastically from a completely cynical political operative to the moral conscience of the Stanton campaign, drawing tearfully on her long connection with Jack and Susan back when they were "golden" beacons inspiring her idealism about politics.

Huh? Jack and Libby, two savvy political veterans, seem awfully naïve about how politics works.They lack the courage of their cynicism. I attribute this problem to the novel's likely source, Robert Penn Warren's classic All the King's Men, featuring an idealistic central character who becomes disillusioned with politics when his hero turns out to have feet of clay and a lot worse too.

Reversing the Warren novel, "Primary Colors" proposes the radical notion, in these dark days, that despite our cynicism about politics, we still need to believe in our leaders. The more we know about them, in our media frenzy, the less we can believe in them. That was an important point in the novel, which called all reporters "scorps" -- short for scorpions. The movie goes beyond this to hint that you can't entirely blame the media if we want assurance that our leaders are as pure as Ivory Soap. But we can't get such leaders either.

"Primary Colors," as political statement, endorses Bill Clinton, warts and all. But it comes around full circle: we witnessed Stanton's personal failings almost from the opening scene, we then watch his strengths as a politician people can believe in. The end, after much turmoil, reaffirms the same strengths and weaknesses. Viewers opposed to Bill and Hilary will jeer at the movie as an apology for Clintonism. Clinton supporters will conclude the movie slings more mud at a time when the President is positively coated with the stuff. My view? The movie is better than the book. It understands, largely from a Democratic perspective, that Watergate and its well-publicized aftermath seemed to kill political idealism in this country but affirms our unquenchable need for a leader to believe in. If we take Stanton's final word for it, "Primary Colors" also suggests that no one can stick to his principles all the time and expect to win. Americans are past the point where we can be gulled by a new Willie Stark, the corrupt governor in "All the King's Men." The problem is, says "Primary Colors," we have to live with the fact that there's a bit of Willie Stark in anyone crazy enough to want to be president.