Compiling the unused portions of news conferences and speeches transmitted via satellite during the 1992 New Hampshire primary campaign, filmmakers Kevin Rafferty and James Ridgeway, abetted by Brian Springer, have assembled an amusing series of vignettes, full of those little moments of
silly vanity to which senators, governors and congressmen may be especially prone when faced by anything with a lens.
The electioneering style in New Hampshire was an especially rich vein of embarrassing moments since there were innumerable small groups before which the aspirants had to appear. So, we see Senator Bob Kerry standing in the snow in front of a handful of supporters, some of whom are clearly well
below voting age, and fretting over the wires and electrical connections hanging out of his overcoat pockets, and with good reason, since he ends up unable to hear the distant newscaster's introduction or questions.
Former governor Jerry Brown continually primps in front of the camera and complains about the knot of his tie when it is clearly his oversized shirt collar that is the problem. Later, in an obvious cheap shot, we see Brown literally bend into the camera frame while using a nasal spray. Larded in
between such segments, President Bush appears patiently waiting for the official signal to start smiling. Two things emerge clearly from Bush's appearance: one is how grim he can look and secondly that he has apparently nothing to occupy his valuable time while he sits there leaden and silent.
One amusing bipartisan failing is the reluctance to be seen actually wearing the eyeglasses needed by most of these middle-aged stumpers to check speeches and schedules printed in anything less than teleprompter-size lettering. The two strongest segments, however, do not involve the major
candidates at all. On her way from a restaurant session of pressing the female flesh, Hillary Clinton is approached by a well-wisher who turns out to be homeless. Corporate lawyer Clinton quickly delegates his attentions to a campaign functionary with whom the poor man has a brief, sad chat. The
other sequence involves a local newsman who is gossiping with a fellow anchor as they wait for their news "feed" to begin, and apparently refers to a reporter from a larger network as a "Shylock," just the kind of off-hand remark that would have gotten any of the politicos into big trouble.
Oddly enough, Paul Tsongas scores the biggest points and gets equally stumped. Tsongas succeeds rather sharply when he comments on Sam Donaldson who upstages him at a local press conference. At what might be the same locale, a New Hampshire resident baffles the candidate by asking him if he knows
the price of a gallon of milk--Tsongas clearly does not.
Exploiting as it does the common ground of show business and politics, FEED is both amusing and a little cheap, since anyone having make-up applied in close-up would look foolish, particularly full-faced presidential candidates. Still, Rafferty and Ridgeway, who collaborated previously with Anne
Bohlen on the gripping BLOOD IN THE FACE, do emphasize the scrutiny to which these men are subjected and the odd combination of sincerity and guile that underlie any modern political campaign. (Adult situations.) leave a comment
