Although Lee Daniels’ newest film, The Butler, features some terrific actors (including Oprah Winfrey in her acting return to the big screen after more than a decade), it is a strange amalgam of a movie that will probably satisfy few viewers. It isn’t as brutal or emotionally honest as Precious, which is a difficult film to watch and appreciate, but which was unmistakably authentic. It isn’t as controversial or lurid or strange as The Paperboy, which tanked at the box office and undoubtedly resulted in Daniels searching for something more respectable to present as his next feature. Yet even with decades of dramatic turmoil to draw upon at the White House, The Butler rather conscientiously avoids sensationalism at almost every turn.
Its story tells of a young black man groomed for genteel servitude by circumstance and opportunity. Soon Cecil Gaines (Forest Whitaker) is working at a posh hotel in Washington D.C., while trying to raise a family with wife Gloria (Oprah Winfrey). When the White House beckons in the early 1950s, Cecil accepts the challenge, and he remains there through the days of Ronald Reagan. The movie presents Cecil as a hard worker who takes great pride (if perhaps not great satisfaction) in his work; he keeps his mouth shut and does his job to the best of his ability.
But Cecil isn’t particularly happy. He cannot make waves at work or risk being fired. His wife would love to be connected to the White House in some way, but Cecil will not allow it. His oldest son Louis (David Oyelowo) doesn’t respect him and spends the 1960s fighting (mostly being beaten) for civil rights. His youngest son comes of age and goes off to fight in Vietnam. All of this Sturm und Drang (not to mention the fates of Cecil’s parents) absolutely begs for a dedicated director to create some heart-wrenching and inspiring drama or melodrama. Yet Daniels somehow seems detached from the material. He obviously respects Cecil for carving a life out of unlikely circumstance and doing the best he can. But he also holds back a reserve of dismay, or perhaps pity, because Cecil cannot avail himself of the very real and more important struggle of blacks to obtain equality. Cecil’s son Louis is much more heroic and sympathetic.
The movie’s main problem is its condensed time frame; only glimpses of the eight presidents Cecil serves are revealed — and those presidents are portrayed by very distracting cameo appearances (Robin Williams as Eisenhower, James Marsden as Kennedy, Liev Schreiber as Johnson, John Cusack as Nixon, Alan Rickman as Reagan) that are in a completely different movie world than Cecil’s home life. That home life is even more artificial than the White House set-ups, what with turbulent dinners and lecherous neighbors and too much booze. Even if some of this drama actually took place — and this entire premise is loosely based on the life of a real butler at the White House — it often plays as blatantly and earnestly as a made-for-TV movie.
My gut feeling is that Daniels is uncomfortable with the story. That he wants the movie to acknowledge the toil of quiet, unassuming men like Cecil who lived honorable lives during an era when they could not be truly free — but that he also wants to condemn the white culture that ruled that era and forced men like Cecil to hold their tongues. Daniels’ favor obviously lies with the men and women who refused to stay silent, protested that oppression and were often beaten bloody for their efforts. This favor tends to undermine the steely silence of Cecil, who wears white gloves often at the White House. If it weren’t for the clichéd characters and situations, this approach might have been very effective.
I think Daniels would have been wiser to reject this project and instead tackle a smaller time-scale civil rights struggles movie, into which he could pump the kind of dynamic detail and passionate emotion that he brought to Precious. It seems obvious to me that his heart is with the daring, determined Freedom Riders instead of with Cecil as he shines presidential shoes. ☆ ☆ 1/2. 30 December 2013.