It’s a fine romantic comedy but a merely okay political melodrama.
Long Shot is a reference to the notion of Seth Rogen’s recent-unemployed journalist ending up with Charlize Theron’s Secretary of State/Presidential contender. However unlikely that might be (more on that later), the title arguably doubles as a commentary, intentional or not, about how its political melodrama might play out as well. Like too many modern political flicks of the last decade, there is a certain “both sides” nature to its comedy, even though (refreshingly) it does pick a specific political party.
And in a sane world, offering the notion of reasonable folks in both political parties (or arguing that modern politics is anything other than a life-or-death blood sport) would merely be a fair narrative choice and evidence of nuanced screenwriting. Alas, in our world, where one party is perhaps a bit too corporatist and the other outwardly aligns themselves with modern-day Nazis, what may have otherwise come off as fair-minded storytelling comes off as nearly akin to enabling.
That’s not fair to the movie, or the screenwriters (Liz Hannah of The Post and Dan Silvers of The Interview). It is just one example of how the last few years of “reality” have blown a hole in terms of what is realistic or responsible storytelling. All of that said, at the very least, the Jonathan Levine-directed studio feature works as a romantic comedy even if it can’t help suffering as a political screed thanks to the increasingly maddening real world.
While the film may present itself as a “hottie and the nottie” type romantic fantasy, it works because the relationship at its core is rooted in conditional respect and mutual appreciation. Moreover, I would argue that Rogen’s alleged unattractiveness is more rooted in how he presents himself than his physical attributes. Putting aside unrealistic Hollywood beauty standards, Rogen’s deep voice and clear intelligence make him a relative catch when he bothers to tuck his shirt in and trim his beard.
I bring this up not to inspire Seth Rogen thirst stans, but because the movie doesn’t present the notion of this wannabee Hunter S. Thompson and his former babysitter (who is now the most powerful woman in the world) as an impossible match (nor a bawdy male fantasy). Since their relationship is rekindled specifically through work and mutual political passions, it makes sense that they would spark a more romantic connection.
For those who just want some plot, the picture concerned a recently laid-off gonzo journalist (introduced going undercover at a local neo-Nazi meeting) who meets up with his former babysitter/childhood crush right as she has decided to indeed run for president in the next election. Her polling suggests that she could be a little funnier, so she hires her old pal to punch up her speeches.
He only takes the job because he believes in what she believes in and because she has assured him that she’ll try to do the things she says she wants to do. One of the more refreshing things about the film is how off-hand it is both about gender-based double standards and the notion of idealism versus practicality and pageantry.
Yes, Charlotte Field must deal with sexist presumptions and a higher bar to clear in order to be taken seriously, and the film presumes that the audience is already aware of this cultural bias without the need to emphasize it with a yellow highlighter. Ditto the political compromises and perils that come with corporately-controlled journalism (as personified by a truly unrecognizable Andy Serkis).
Levine, Hannah and Silvers trust the adult audience buying a ticket to an R-rated political comedy to already be aware of these ingrained situations and biases, so the dialogue sequences don’t feel like glorified book reports. The challenges facing a (comparatively) liberal female politician seeking increased power are taken as a given, which gives the conversations between Rogen, Theron and June Diane Raphael (as Charlotte’s most trusted advisor) an extra shading.
