Movie Review: American Dreamz
by William
R Alford - Mar. 23, 2006
American Dreamz (2006)
Release Date Apr. 21, 2006
Starring: Dennis Quaid, Willem Dafoe, Marcia Gay Harden, Hugh Grant
Director: Paul Weitz
Recommendation: Watch once in cheap theater or rent when released to DVD
Summary: Consider the plot a vehicle for plenty of laughs, but expect
to be beaten over the head with the bashing of a certain “hapless”
president with a Texas accent.
From the very beginning, it becomes clear that one must be more than
sympathetic to a certain political perspective in order to obtain
maximum enjoyment of American Dreamz.
We are given
saturation doses of the film makers’ clichéd Leftist portrayals
of the Bush administration. If Janeane Garofalo sets your political
agenda, you will howl at the sledgehammer-subtle renderings of
President Staton (Dennis Quaid) as a well-meaning, but ignorant boob
who is puppet-mastered from sun to sun by the evilly manipulative
Vice-President Sutton (Willem Dafoe.)
But the bumbling president becomes increasingly dissatisfied with his
lack of awareness. Consequently – and abandoning his spoon-fed
briefings on what is sometimes politely called ‘popular culture’ – he
decides to celebrate his recent re-election by reading a newspaper for
the first time. This only whets his appetite for more information and
we find the Chief cloistered in his room with a pile of books,
magazines and newspapers.
The balding, thick-in-the-middle Veep [did he actually gain weight for
the part as Stallone did in the wildly mediocre Cop Land or did he don a Mrs. Doubtfire-esque body
appliance?] becomes increasingly alarmed as it dawns upon his erstwhile
marionette that everything is NOT black-and-white. The threat that he
may become ‘enlightened’ to the point that the Prez turns (sensibly) to
the Left is palpable. Thus, President Staton is given “happy pills” and
a micro-earphone that enables Dafoe’s character to feed him every word
uttered in public.
This in turn leads to the President’s handlers feeling confident enough
to send him on a whirlwind PR tour, including “doing” Oprah, Larry
King and – the topper of them
all – being made an honorary judge on the American Idol-modeled
amateur
talent competition TV show called American
Dreamz.
We are treated to how the leading contestants rose to voyeurism-driven
fame. The show’s British [Simon Cowell-inspired d’ya think?] host
Tweedy (Hugh Grant) orders his ‘talent’ scouts, “find me FREAKS!” And
we are shown that there is no shortage thereof here in America.
We have the hip-hop Hasidic cantor and the klutzy wannabe terrorist who
is banished to California to await orders – which his superiors never
intend to issue. Then Omer (Sam Golzari) is unwittingly thrust into
being an American Dreamz contestant while the president is there, which
provides the show-tune loving Arab an unwanted ‘opportunity’ to martyr
himself. [The terrorists who recruit him are indeed Middle Eastern, but
they are also cute and basically just like us.]
The Simon/Tweedy character, having been dumped by his girlfriend who
“drove him mad” by being too considerate, develops a genuine respect
for the connivingly mercenary contestant Sally (Mandy Moore), who
herself had recently unloaded her boyfriend for similar reasons. The
potential for this relationship to develop – and the respective
characters – promises to be the most interesting aspect of this film,
but this subplot is shunted aside in apparent desire by the film makers
to tie any loose ends within the last five minutes.
What makes this movie watchable – and indeed what redeems it – are the
numerous effective gags and cute moments. I laughed out loud along with
everyone else during a sneak preview, but was more than glad that I
hadn’t paid a cent to see it.
American Dreamz
makes for enjoyable momentary mental chewing gum, but is not worthy of
watching more than once – and certainly not shelling out a full first
release ticket price. It will be in the $3 theaters soon enough. Wait
until then and make sure to smuggle in your own candy. It’s not worth
ponying up folding money for a box of Good
and Plentys either – even if you’re the type who considers
Michael Moore to be a legitimate documentarian.
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