In 2001 Seattle, journalist pals Phil and Grant (Biggs and Moore) find themselves unemployed, so Grant decides to run for city council. Passionate about mass transit, which he says is the key to social justice in the city, Grant is far from the typical candidate. And he's taking on an established incumbent (Cedric) who isn't ruffled by Grant's attacks. Meanwhile, Phil's girlfriend Emily (Ambrose) becomes annoyed that he's slipping back into a frat-boy lifestyle with the campaign's counter-culture volunteers. But they seem to be gaining traction with the voters.

Director-cowriter Gyllenhaal (father of Jake and Maggie) fills the screen with scruffy charm as these no-hopers go up against the well-oiled political machine. Even though it's set more than a decade ago, the film taps into the current zeitgeist as it reveals deep-seated grassroots rage at the way political systems seem slanted to corporate interests at the expense of health and community issues. And the plot is rerouted by the events of 9/11, which adds some righteous anger.

Biggs is superb, keeping the film beautifully grounded when everything around him seems to be caught in a slacker-sparked whirlwind. Moore's performance is perhaps a bit full-on: we never quite believe anyone would take him seriously as a candidate, even after he calms down, although we definitely feel his clear-headed focus. And both Ambrose and Cedric bring surprising layers to their roles, even if the film skirts around their characters' issues.

But then, the film skirts around politics in general, never having the courage to nail its flag to the wall. And this avoidance of the divisive elements of the American political scene feels just about as contrived as the underdeveloped romantic subplot or the somewhat manipulative use of 9/11 to shape the film's narrative momentum. So it's a good thing that, like Grant, the film has its heart in the right place. And that it's chaotic charm wins us over.

themes, language

11.Sep.12