- Home
- Media
- Movie Reviews
- Movie Review: Swing Vote
Movie Review: Swing Vote
- By Dave Urbanski
- Published 08/5/2008
- Movie Reviews
- Unrated
Dave Urbanski
Dave Urbanski is author of The Man Comes Around: The Spiritual Journey of Johnny Cash (Relevant Books), senior developmental editor for Youth Specialties, and writes about music, film, and culture for several publications.
View all articles by Dave UrbanskiPG-13, 120 min.
Overview: A down-and-out drunkard from a small New Mexico town getting to cast the deciding vote in a presidential election? Despite the unbelievable (and admittedly flawed) premise, Swing Vote manages to bring up a good deal of important issues in an engaging way—with both humor and drama—and is full of lots of valuable fodder for discussion.
The Lowdown: Bud Johnson (Kevin Costner) is an out-of-work, single father who lives in a dusty trailer in a dusty town and has a big drinking—and life motivation—problem. His only good thing is his 12-year-old, live-in daughter, Molly (Madeline Carroll in a very Abigail Breslin-like performance), who assumes many roles, including mother, disciplinarian, cook, housekeeper, and highly intelligent student—conspicuously absent from that list, unfortunately, are “daughter” and “kid.” Bud has promised Molly that he’ll vote for president to help her complete a school project, but he gets passed-out drunk once again and can’t enter the polling station. So Molly performs a stunningly sly procedural end-around, attempting (with a little help from a poll worker who’s asleep at the switch) to cast a vote for her dad—except the power goes out before the vote is actually cast. (Kinda makes you long for the days of hanging chads…)
Next thing you know, TV news networks are reporting a virtual tie between Democratic nominee Donald Greenleaf (Dennis Hopper) and sitting Republican President Andrew Boone (Kelsey Grammer)—and New Mexico’s five electoral votes will decide the winner. The only problem? New Mexico’s popular vote is a dead heat, too. Suddenly state election officials realize that since “Bud” tried to vote and the power failed, by law he’s entitled to “recast” his ballot (which he never cast in the first place) within 10 days—and in effect choose the next president. Soon little Texico (a real town, by the way) is the de facto capitol of America, and Bud wields more influence than E.F. Hutton. This little tipping point isn’t lost on the candidates or their campaign teams, who court Bud with over-the-top relentlessness—in fact doing anything and saying anything to get his vote.
Bud doesn’t take the hoopla seriously until after a climactic event involving Molly, who insists that her father start acting like one—and especially show some concern about the grave responsibility he’s been handed.
Teachable Moments: Love. Despite Bud’s loser persona and the terrible job he does as a father, it’s clear throughout that Molly loves him—her tearful sharing time in class about why Bud couldn’t attend Bring Your Dad to School Day is exceptional. And Bud clearly loves Molly, too.
Honesty (and lack thereof). Molly and Bud get a failing grade here; the whole fulcrum of the flick swings on the fact that they’re keeping a lie alive regarding Bud’s right to re-vote—a mighty massive canard. (In fact, it could prove a valuable discussion question: Do the ends ever justify the means?) The politicians and their peeps lie shamelessly throughout, even reversing political positions in the hopes of getting Bud to side with them—a sickening display; but both candidates eventually come to their senses and begin doing and saying the right things. A reporter Molly trusts attempts to secretly videotape an impromptu interview with her; the reporter soon repents, too.
Responsibility. Bud doesn’t exhibit much of it at all, but Molly is a great example for younger teens in the way she bravely does everything in her power to make things right at home.
Civic duty. After the Florida controversy in the 2000 election, we all got a big dose of every-vote-really-does-count—this flick just takes it to the max. Bud’s speech at the end of the movie is particularly moving, as he admits his own failings and voices the concerns of many Americans who want to make sure the right person gets elected.
Viewer Discretion: No sex, no nudity, no violence (save for Greenleaf’s wife slapping him in the face). There’s a fair amount of drinking and drunkenness, as well as one reference to drug use in a scene involving Molly and her strung-out, estranged mother. There’s a great deal of cursing and crude language, most of it uttered by Bud. In one insightful scene, Bud takes Jesus’ name in vain yet again, and Molly chastises him: “You need to stop using Jesus as a cuss word all the time. He’s a billion peoples’ savior, you know.”
General Appeal: In a critical sense, Swing Vote isn’t exactly Citizen Kane. The premise is ridiculous, the dialogue is somewhat syrupy and predictable most of the time, and the star-studded movie relies too heavily on Costner’s and Carroll’s acting, which fortunately is pretty believable. But general audiences will enjoy the homespun likeability of Swing Vote. In a whirlwind of action flicks this summer, it’s a nice change of pace to take in something with a little bit of heart and humor—and with something to say, even if it’s sweetened with an aww-shucks sensibility.
The Final Grade: Entertainment value—C+; ministry value—B+
The Lowdown: Bud Johnson (Kevin Costner) is an out-of-work, single father who lives in a dusty trailer in a dusty town and has a big drinking—and life motivation—problem. His only good thing is his 12-year-old, live-in daughter, Molly (Madeline Carroll in a very Abigail Breslin-like performance), who assumes many roles, including mother, disciplinarian, cook, housekeeper, and highly intelligent student—conspicuously absent from that list, unfortunately, are “daughter” and “kid.” Bud has promised Molly that he’ll vote for president to help her complete a school project, but he gets passed-out drunk once again and can’t enter the polling station. So Molly performs a stunningly sly procedural end-around, attempting (with a little help from a poll worker who’s asleep at the switch) to cast a vote for her dad—except the power goes out before the vote is actually cast. (Kinda makes you long for the days of hanging chads…)
Next thing you know, TV news networks are reporting a virtual tie between Democratic nominee Donald Greenleaf (Dennis Hopper) and sitting Republican President Andrew Boone (Kelsey Grammer)—and New Mexico’s five electoral votes will decide the winner. The only problem? New Mexico’s popular vote is a dead heat, too. Suddenly state election officials realize that since “Bud” tried to vote and the power failed, by law he’s entitled to “recast” his ballot (which he never cast in the first place) within 10 days—and in effect choose the next president. Soon little Texico (a real town, by the way) is the de facto capitol of America, and Bud wields more influence than E.F. Hutton. This little tipping point isn’t lost on the candidates or their campaign teams, who court Bud with over-the-top relentlessness—in fact doing anything and saying anything to get his vote.
Bud doesn’t take the hoopla seriously until after a climactic event involving Molly, who insists that her father start acting like one—and especially show some concern about the grave responsibility he’s been handed.
Teachable Moments: Love. Despite Bud’s loser persona and the terrible job he does as a father, it’s clear throughout that Molly loves him—her tearful sharing time in class about why Bud couldn’t attend Bring Your Dad to School Day is exceptional. And Bud clearly loves Molly, too.
Honesty (and lack thereof). Molly and Bud get a failing grade here; the whole fulcrum of the flick swings on the fact that they’re keeping a lie alive regarding Bud’s right to re-vote—a mighty massive canard. (In fact, it could prove a valuable discussion question: Do the ends ever justify the means?) The politicians and their peeps lie shamelessly throughout, even reversing political positions in the hopes of getting Bud to side with them—a sickening display; but both candidates eventually come to their senses and begin doing and saying the right things. A reporter Molly trusts attempts to secretly videotape an impromptu interview with her; the reporter soon repents, too.
Responsibility. Bud doesn’t exhibit much of it at all, but Molly is a great example for younger teens in the way she bravely does everything in her power to make things right at home.
Civic duty. After the Florida controversy in the 2000 election, we all got a big dose of every-vote-really-does-count—this flick just takes it to the max. Bud’s speech at the end of the movie is particularly moving, as he admits his own failings and voices the concerns of many Americans who want to make sure the right person gets elected.
Viewer Discretion: No sex, no nudity, no violence (save for Greenleaf’s wife slapping him in the face). There’s a fair amount of drinking and drunkenness, as well as one reference to drug use in a scene involving Molly and her strung-out, estranged mother. There’s a great deal of cursing and crude language, most of it uttered by Bud. In one insightful scene, Bud takes Jesus’ name in vain yet again, and Molly chastises him: “You need to stop using Jesus as a cuss word all the time. He’s a billion peoples’ savior, you know.”
General Appeal: In a critical sense, Swing Vote isn’t exactly Citizen Kane. The premise is ridiculous, the dialogue is somewhat syrupy and predictable most of the time, and the star-studded movie relies too heavily on Costner’s and Carroll’s acting, which fortunately is pretty believable. But general audiences will enjoy the homespun likeability of Swing Vote. In a whirlwind of action flicks this summer, it’s a nice change of pace to take in something with a little bit of heart and humor—and with something to say, even if it’s sweetened with an aww-shucks sensibility.
The Final Grade: Entertainment value—C+; ministry value—B+
