Bobby: Movie & DVD Review (2006)

(Originally published 2006)

One of the key problems with the new Robert Kennedy biopic, "Bobby," is that it never is as compelling, necessary or as thought-provoking as RFK's ideas, nor is it as interesting or as tumultuous as the time it depicts.

The movie doesn't brim with the edge of political and social unrest you expect; instead, it creates a blizzard of tiny melodramas within Los Angeles' Ambassador Hotel that fit snuggly together--too snugly, really--when Kennedy was shot in the hotel's kitchen by Sirhan Sirhan and later died from those wounds.

The movie is a build-up to that event. It has good intentions to spare, but a motherlode of them, while admirable, hardly is enough to make a movie good.

Witness, for example, "Bobby," which was written and directed by Emilio Estevez, a former Bratpacker whose last major film was--oh, let's see--the 1996 children's hockey fiasco, "D3: The Mighty Ducks." In the ensuing 10 years, Estevez has been busy honing his directorial skills by working behind the lens on a number of television shows, "CSI: NY" and "The Guardian" among them.

"Bobby" is designed to be his break-out movie, though additional factors likely will prevent that from happening.

For one, the film was left wanting at the bank for a budget--nobody would finance it until the Weinsteins came along. Second, since the Weinsteins weren't exactly liberal with the cash, the movie had to be rushed in order to come in at or under budget. It was shot over the course of a mere 37 days by a group of well-known actors who wasn't allowed the time to rehearse. This shows, though it must be said that thanks to the strength of the cast, nobody does anything here that they will regret.

Further sinking the movie is that tries to balance 22 personalities over the course of two hours, which some readers might understand is somewhat difficult to do, particularly coming off the recent Thanksgiving Day festivities. This certainly is true for the movie, which moves in and out of its characters' lives with such casualness, their stories don't linger. Instead, they become fleeting, meaningless vignettes amid the hagiography.

Jarring the movie out of reality is that the stars keep coming. Here is Demi Moore as an alcohol-soaked nightclub singer--lovely hair, but who is she, really? There is William H. Macy, Heather Graham, Christian Slater and Sharon Stone caught in some unexpected ugliness, while Ashton Kutcher, Shia LeBeouf and Brian Geraght drop acid in ways that might affect RFK's numbers at the polls.

In the hotel lobby, look--there's Anthony Hopkins and Harry Belafonte playing chess. Just upstairs are Martin Sheen and his insecure, freaked-out wife, played by Helen Hunt. Meanwhile, Laurence Fishburne becomes something of a black messiah to a group of angry Latino kitchen workers, Freddy Rodriguez chief among them. On their way to the chapel is Lindsay Lohan and Elijah Wood, who are about to be married so she can save him from a war that only skirts the periphery of this movie.

Other characters and subplots abound, with the movie only fully realizing itself when Estevez cuts away to actual footage of Kennedy speaking around the country. Here is the movie at its best--Kennedy delivering his own message, which is just as timely today as it was 38 years ago. That he gives the best "performance" in a movie whose power comes from old newsreel footage doesn't say much for all the many stories and characters tugging for attention in the movie in question.

Grade: C-