There seems to be an emerging trend in the movies these days of stories that get sold on the backs of utterly loathsome protagonists. First it was Hugo Weaving playing a vindictive terrorist in "V for Vendetta." Then last week we saw Johnny Depp as a syphilitic sex addict in "The Libertine." And now here's Aaron Eckhart, playing an infuriatingly slick tobacco lobbyist in "Thank You For Smoking." Imagine sitting down to lunch with these three characters -- I suspect a good long shower would be necessary afterwards.
What makes "Thank You for Smoking" infinitely more watchable than the previous two films is the fact that Eckhart and the filmmakers are careful not to confuse moral bankruptcy with a lack of charisma. Nick Naylor, the Big-Tobacco spokesman out of whose exploits the film forms its narrative, is so consummately suave that he explains how cigarettes can cure Parkinson's Disease and we have to fight the urge to believe him.
"Thank You For Smoking" follows Nick as he goes about the day-to-day business of peddling pro-smoking propaganda. He comes to Career Day at his son's school and expounds to fourth graders the pleasures of cigarettes. He appears on an Oprah-esque talk show and locks horns with a bevy of irate health advocates. He flies out to Los Angeles to broker a product-placement deal with a Hollywood producer -- $25 million in exchange for Brad Pitt playing a chain-smoker. And through it all, we never once see an ounce of remorse mar Nick's smug countenance; he knows he's a bastard, but sees this fact less as a character flaw than an irrelevant detail.
All of this transpires with a jolly comic tone that hovers perilously between the incisive and the silly. The first-time director Jason Reitman employs a variety of loopy filmmaking gags which encourage his audience not to take things too seriously. Split-screens, freeze-frames and superfluous subtitles are gleefully hurled onto the screen like confetti. For the most part his wacky style seems oddly suited to the three-ring circus of the American lobbying system.
And then there's Aaron Eckhart, a talented performer whose good looks and charm have never quite captured the American public because of the oily edge that tends to go along with them. He's well-cast here, in a role that utilizes his unique blend of smarminess and compulsive likeability. As I watched him offer bribes to anti-smoking advocates and lie to Congressmen, I had a desperate urge to hate Nick's guts -- but then Eckhart would flash one of his toothy grins or spout a line like, "There's nothing more important than America's children" and dammit, there goes my moral outrage.
Of course, there's an unavoidable problem with a protagonist like this. Nick is so completely enveloped in his sh*t-salesman persona that it's hard to catch a glimpse of the human being underneath -- he's been an emotionless spin machine for so many years that he's lost the capacity for sadness, or anger, or even happiness. But that doesn't mean he's not awfully fun to watch. As Eckhart swaggered through the film, oozing self-confidence and displaying a row of pearly whites that could put Tom Cruise out of business, I eventually gave up hoping for some big important scene where we suddenly see the man behind the image; I suspect the point may be that there isn't really one to be found.
Is "Thank You for Smoking" an anti-smoking film? Not really. Reitman seems to lack both the energy and the interest to turn his story into a finger-wagging parable. Instead, there is an interesting development of the relationship between Nick and his young son Joey (Cameron Bright), who watches with wide-eyed pride as his father slithers through talk shows, business meetings and Congressional hearings. No, this is not one of those movies where the bad guy looks into the impressionable face of his child and improbably rejects all his ill-gotten gains. But Nick does have a soft spot for his son that acts like a chink in his scaly armor, and could that be the slightest flicker of regret that crosses his face every time Joey cheers on his evil deeds?
Despite a few sly twists in the third act, "Thank You for Smoking" ends up squarely where it began. Nick never really apologizes for advocating a proven carcinogen, his opponents never really give up their public-health crusade, and we never really get a sense of the filmmakers' political stance. But though it exists within a fairly static plot, I had a great deal of admiration for "Thank You for Smoking." It's witty, fun, and has a stubborn refusal to descend into sentimentality that's rather admirable in Hollywood these days. I don't think I'd be able to make it through lunch with a guy like Nick Naylor, but I can think of worse ways to spend an afternoon at the movies.
