The recently departed playwright and Amadeus scribe, Peter Shaffer, wasn't one to let theatrical limitations dull his ambitions. Who else could have written the delicious stage direction 'They Cross the Andes', and think, 'Yeah, go make that work!' Of course, the cinemaverse is where plays and novels go to expand their universe. So it's a little curious to throw that into reverse while watching a movie such as Elvis & Nixon - essentially a one-act, two-hander stretched over an hour-and-a-half - and wonder aloud: 'When will they adapt this into a play?'
Admittedly director Liza Johnson fashions a suitably claustrophobic tone to proceedings with Elvis (Michael Shannon in fine form) wallowing in a stew of growing isolation and paranoia in 1970. He decides to seek out an audience with the leader of the free world to demand a role as an undercover narcotics officer. Cue one of the unlikeliest and most bizarre encounters ever witnessed by the Oval Office.
This is Elvis 3.0 on the cusp of those bombastic twilight years. A pill-popping, gun-totin' fanatic and hardliner, obsessed with bullets and badges right before the burgers took over during his Las Vegas residency. Although still one of the most famous and recognisable faces in the world and more than able to trade on his fame, he increasingly cuts a lonely figure apart from a few loyal apparatchiks like Jerry Schilling (Alex Pettyfer) whom he ropes in to help with his quest.
Initially thinking the whole thing is a joke, White House staff eventually sees the meeting's potential as a way to boost Nixon's popularity with voters and set about convincing Nixon (Kevin Spacey) to play along.
In a stroke of very brave casting, Spacey manages to banish all traces of his turn as Panto-villain-in-chief from House of Cards and trade in his oily Democratic shtick for a much more subtle and human portrayal of the real-life Republican crook. The growling menace is there, but so too is a big streak of vulnerability. After needlessly pin-balling around for the earlier part of the movie, the eventual showdown between the two is a riot of mismatched manners and genuine comedy. Naturally after an awkward start, the pair get on like a house on fire and bond over their shared dislike of counter-culture and those damn upstarts, The Beatles.
"Can we get him a badge?" thunders Nixon to his increasingly perplexed official Bud Krogh. Sure they can and the delighted singer is presented with his narcotics agent shield. Not bad for a man addicted to prescription drugs.
After keeping the two apart for so long, when Elvis and Nixon do meet, the movie shines. Both lead-actors have great fun teasing out the absurdity of the situation, while neither falls into the danger zone of caricaturing their real life subjects - not an easy task when portraying such characters that exist in people's minds as mere cardboard cut-outs. However, the movie is never interested in digging too deep beyond the surface and into the fragile character of both men, opting instead to play it for laughs.
The supporting cast, meanwhile, is hopelessly under-used. Johnny Knoxville hovers in the background while a sub-plot involving attempts by Pettyfer's Jerry Schilling to break free of the whole farce and propose to his girlfriend ends up being more of an irritant than anything. Only Colin Hanks, as the long-suffering Krogh, gets a chance to relish the full slapstick potential of the unfolding farce.
Elvis & Nixon (on general release from Friday June 24) is still good fun, but trust me - the play will be so much better!
John O'Driscoll
