How do you tell the story of one of the biggest, boldest, bossiest figures in American politics?
Think small.
That's director Rob Reiner's idea for "LBJ," anyway _ and it works.
Other artists have gone epic (like writer Robert A. Caro, whose mammoth Johnson bio is still unfinished after four volumes). Reiner's film runs just under 100 minutes.
But that's because Reiner fine-tunes its focus to the years between Lyndon Johnson's agreement to run as JFK's veep, and his decision to assume that murdered president's agenda.
Within that narrow frame, "LBJ" sketches a picture of a complex man.
Crude but no clown, pragmatic but not unprincipled, Johnson was a politician above everything else. Maybe unlike anyone else. He knew how to get what he wanted.
But what did he really want?
A complicated character, he's terrifically played here by a cast-against-type Woody Harrelson. No one seems less suited to the coarse wheeler-dealer than this hang-loose dude.
"LBJ" is, frankly, the first good movie the once-golden Reiner has made in decades.
But Harrelson embodies the Texan's endless drive, his careful craftiness _ and his surprising, never-satisfied need for love.
Great, too, is Jennifer Jason Leigh as Lady Bird Johnson, a figure too often reduced to a cornpone cliche. (Hey, you try following Jackie Kennedy as First Lady.)
And representing the old segregated South that LBJ is trying to break from? Richard Jenkins as Sen. Richard Russell, a cold-eyed white supremacist who'd probably find a warm place in the alt-right today.
"LBJ" is, frankly, the first good movie the once-golden Reiner has made in decades. And working to put a long string of flops behind him, he's clearly had to make some careful, budget-conscious compromises.
A few scenes seem hastily staged, a couple of backgrounds feel cheaply faked. The casting is occasionally second-tier _ Jeffrey Donovan, who plays Jack Kennedy, wouldn't pass muster at Madame Tussaud's.
And the pounds of makeup Harrelson sports as LBJ looks as if they were put on with a putty knife. Is this the 36th President we're supposed to be looking at, or Dick Tracy's Pruneface?
Still, Harrelson and Leigh and Jenkins, and the movie's relentless pace, overwhelm the flaws.
Of course, the movie's abridged version of history _ ending on the high note of LBJ's Civil Rights Act _ can seem unfair. It never has to confront the ugliness of Johnson's later years in office, and the quagmire that was Vietnam.
But this is still a sharp, well-told story, and an important one.
Imagine, it says, a time when politicians crossed the aisle to do not what was profitable, but what was right. When there were some things you wouldn't stand for, and a few you stood up for.
"LBJ" may not be the complete portrait of a legend. But it is a fascinating snapshot of an era that increasingly feels like a fairy tale.
