Political films are nothing new to independent writer-director John Sayles, who unflinchingly explored cronyism, corruption, oppression, and grassroots rebellion in Matewan, Men With Guns, City Of Hope, and Sunshine State. Even his less overtly political films often deal with the intersections between people, which tend to butt up against the intersections between public and private interests, the state and the individual, and corporations and government. But the formula curdles just slightly with the new Silver City, which adds contemporary political critique and parody to the rambling, keenly observed character-study formula that's been Sayles' stock in trade since 1996's stellar Lone Star.
Chris Cooper is the first strand in Silver City's carefully woven connecting thread. As a Colorado gubernatorial candidate, he's a consciously designed dead ringer for George W. Bush, from his background (he's a business failure, a former frat boy with several DWIs, an accused draft-dodger, and the son of a successful politician) to his hapless, good-ol'-boy vapidity and propensity for verbal bobbles. While shooting a pro-environment political ad, Cooper accidentally encounters a corpse hidden in a scenic lake. Suspecting a political dirty trick, high-strung PR flak Richard Dreyfuss hires private investigator Danny Huston to lean on some of Cooper's detractors, including rabid radio personality Miguel Ferrer and family burnout Daryl Hannah. But Huston, a former investigative reporter, oversteps his mandate and starts looking into the corpse's identity and origin. His search provides the foundation for a hushed, serious film that explores how easily corporate interests, self-serving politicians, and the followers of both groups can determine a community's direction, casually setting aside the public trust in order to line their own pockets, with sometimes fatal results.
Like Sayles' '90s work, Silver City is impeccably crafted and beautifully acted, with an emphasis on low-key, believable character dynamics and small, telling details. Its political observations are timely and well-explicated, with a minimum of exaggeration or histrionics. But a jarringly unsubtle, bitter edge surfaces whenever Cooper's character comes onscreen: His last name is "Pilager," and his family literally made its fortune by dealing in manure. The periodic diversions in which he says something stupid, or simply fails to say anything remotely alert or intelligent, start to feel like targeted political potshots that fall well outside Silver City's narrative.
Those moments aside, Silver City feels like a natural companion piece to Lone Star, another grave, sincere procedural film that encouraged thought as much as it evoked emotion. In Sayles' adult world, issues are complicated, people have more than one side, thinking through an issue carefully reveals hidden truths, and answers are never pat. Sayles' version of reality is grim, but it provides an enlightening, grounding reminder that there's a far more crucial world of politics going on behind the headlines.