Royal Letdown

Sean Penn attends the All the King's Men press conference at TIFF. (Evan Agostini/Getty Images)

There are all-star casts, and then there are All-Star Casts. All The King’s Men, director Steven Zallian’s new political thriller based on Robert Penn Warren’s classic book of the same name, can certainly boast the latter. Sitting in a row in front of me are Zaillian, Kate Winslet, Mark Ruffalo, Sean Penn, James Gandolfini, Patricia Clarkson and — big inhale — policy wonk, pundit and now film producer James Carville. Jude Law and Anthony Hopkins are not with us in body, but we are assured they are here in spirit.

Despite all the star power, there’s no wattage generated. Maybe they’re tired, maybe they’re grumpy — maybe they dislike each other. It’s a constellation without any twinkle.

Mr. Penn is dark, brooding. He resembles the graphic on the All The King’s Men poster: a shadowy man with smoke curling from his mouth. In fact, he fires up many cigarettes throughout the course of the Q&A. (He must think he’s at the Venice Film Festival.) Ms. Winslet is gorgeous but flinty. Gandolfini looks desperately overweight, while Clarkson and Ruffalo seem relaxed and genuinely likeable.

“Photographers,” begs the moderator, “try not to machine-gun the participants.” This is a ridiculous request — it’s an embarrassment of riches up there. In the moderator’s own words, “the people up here have won enough awards to fill this entire room.”

How did Zaillian manage to attract a cast like this? “The great thing about this job is to say, ‘Who do I like? Who do I want as an actor?’” says Zaillian. “These actors were on my wish list as the best actors for the part, and my favourite actors, and based on the strength of the material, they said yes.”

Winslet points out that she was the last to be cast, and “it felt like I’d won the last golden ticket. I wanted to get into the chocolate factory and eat it all.” This cues the inevitable love-in, which culminates with Gandolfini saying, “To be with people that I watched, that I learned from, to me, it was an experience that restored my faith in movies.”

Fair enough, but did this movie need to be made? After all, a near-perfect version was produced in the late 1940s. “It came to me as the book,” says Zaillian. “I read it as a great story, a classic story — really, the ’49 movie was the only liability, because I knew I’d be asked this question, so I ignored it and went with my reaction to the book. It’s a humbling piece of writing.”

James Gandolfini, left, and Mark Ruffalo. (Evan Agostini/Getty Images)

Fine, but this book was written about American politics in another era. In what way will it resonate with contemporary audiences? Ruffalo explains that after he signed on, he and Carville met for dinner and discussed the fact that “the book is a political manual for American politics. The only thing that’s changed is that there’s a lot more money now.” Besides, the book touches on universal human notions, and doesn’t restrict its focus to politics. It asks a central question: How long will you dance with the Devil to do good?

“I think we live with these compromises every day in life,” says Ruffalo. “That’s why I love the film: it speaks to that. I would be remiss if I didn’t say the compromises we made in life often have nothing to do with politics.”

Once the floor is opened, things get a little weird. You know what they say about discussing politics and religion in mixed company? Dead on. Does Penn, or anyone else, have a political role model, someone they consider a good politician? “One could make the argument,” drawls Penn, “that George Bush is a good politician. But how do we define ‘politician?’” This is a comment that only someone with a firm grasp of English — and a firmer grasp of irony — is going to get. Winslet declines to elaborate; she gets too worked up. Clarkson picks Barack Obama, the black U.S. senator from Illinois.

Minutes later, an Italian journalist helps put world events in perspective. “George Bush is the American president,” she informs us, “and he starts the so-called "war on terror," but you say he is ‘a good politician.’ Can you explain how this is?” The air goes from the room.

Penn takes a laconic drag of his cigarette. “There was a context to that,” he says, and the room laughs. “We were talking about the term ‘politician.’ For instance, ‘actor’ now means, universally, ‘contest winner.’” Ms. Winslet is not so amused, and jumps to her co-star’s defense. “To be fair, he said, ‘Some people might say George Bush is a good politician.’” She wasn’t kidding; she does get worked up.

Despite all the mildly heated discussion, there are those who want more politics in film. Is that likely in the current Hollywood climate? “I actually think we’re gonna be seeing more,” says Zaillian. “In troubled times, we see the best films, and God knows we’re in troubled times now. But Hollywood is a bottom-line industry, and sometimes something like this slips through the door. I think they think that their audience doesn’t want to see this. But they do.”

Clarkson adds, “There’s a big difference between a political film, and a film about politics.”

“And I think this is both,” says her director.

Time is called. Penn stubs out his cigarette and the All The King’s Men all-stars disperse. It’s like dawn rising — the constellation dims, and then disappears. Pity it was such a cloudy night.

Richard Poplak is a writer based in Toronto.

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