The only thing that halts the relentless strains of 2012 Mardi Gras floating over New Orleans are the studio doors that surround the set of The Campaign. On the dark soundstage you can see a table full of doll parts, plastic bins filled with various patriotic ephemera stamped with 2012, and in the center of it all, a lone house and backyard. I might mistake it for the house I grew up in if Will Ferrell weren't currently inside, half naked and yelling things that would make a sailor blush. Yeah, it's before noon and we get to see a "love" scene, Ferrell-style. Who needs coffee?
In this film, Ferrell plays Cam Brady, the incumbent in a North Carolina race for Congress. Zach Galifianakis plays his competitor Marty Huggins, who at first appears to be just an "effeminate racist" similar to his popular Seth Galifianakis character--but he ends up much more than that. The two men devolve into madness during the race, matching up in what appears to be a battle of…well, it's definitely not wits. Brains aren't an important part of either political party's plan in the world of this movie.
Director Jay Roach, who was at the helm of not only the comedies Austin Powers and Meet the Fockers but also the political dramas Recount and Game Change, was a natural choice for the project, according to co-writer Chris Henchy (The Other Guys). "It was a perfect marriage of comedy and politics with Jay. He's got such an eye for detail." Roach admits to being a "dilettante…in connection to politics [his] whole life." But for which side? He says that his political opinions change all the time, so he's not very zealous, which is an important aspect of the film. You won't find any particular slant to the left or right here--everyone is fair game for parody and the only agenda is to show how insane (and hilarious) politics in general have become.
Henchy says that in 2010 he and producer Adam McKay (whom he says is very "tuned in politically") were discussing how crazy the Presidential race was getting, and how much worse it would be thanks to the presence of Super PACs funneling money into elections—hence the idea of pitting Galifianakis against Ferrell. Since starting the writing process in 2011, the team kept a close eye on what was going on in the news and saw that real life was often out-pacing them in the Crazy Department ("Everything on the news is just like…a gift from these guys," Henchy says). So they didn't feel any remorse for creating a Cam Brady rally that features Ferrell flying onto the stage while "Taking Care of Business" plays in the background. Hey, it could happen.
Along with their political antics, you can expect to see the characters’ affectations lifted directly from what we read and see every day. For instance, Marty isn't a bad guy. Galifianakis describes him as "really, really sweet" and "the black sheep" of his political family. But when he is plucked from obscurity to challenge Cam Brady, he starts to get sucked into the hype, “similar to Sarah Palin,” Galifianakis says. He also loves pugs--because they're the best deadpan comedians ever.
And for Will Ferrell, he says hair is a "huge thing" for his character. Called “strong” by his campaign manager (Jason Sudeikis), it resembles John Edwards’ (remember that "I Feel Pretty" video where Edwards combs his hair for two minutes?). In fact, they reshot a whole speech so that Ferrell could have more perfect hair. Some things you shouldn't joke about.
Caught between the two men in the spotlight is newcomer Sarah Baker as Marty's wife Mitzi, a bored but loving housewife that has a secret love for white wine, pills and cigarettes. Both scenes we sat in on showed us that Mitzi ends up a casualty of these two driven men's war. On one end of the spectrum, we see Mitzi and Marty in a sweet, intimate moment giving each other foot rubs. On the other end, we see Mitzi and Cam in flagrante delicto, complete with iPhone camera and wall-mounted deer head. She tells us that when Will Ferrell makes dirty noises in her ear, she couldn't just sit back and laugh, she had to remind herself to participate in the scene and try to keep a straight face. Good luck, sister. I found it next to impossible to hide my laughter so I wouldn't ruin a take, and I was just watching it on a monitor.
Not surprisingly, Roach says he encourages everyone to constantly draw on their improv skills to top themselves. He invites one of his editors, his story board guy, and other people he trusts to come in and throw ideas around, and they shoot it all. Roach points out, "the mortality rate [of a joke] is so high, it's like the GOP candidates." The crew tells us they just keep shooting until Roach decides to say "that's good enough," and even the director admits it keeps him awake at night, wondering if he should have stayed and shot more.
But in a movie where usually serious actors Dylan McDermott and Brian Cox, playing a political consultant and Marty's dad, respectively, take the gloves off and get funny, Ferrell says that's where "some of the most satisfying casting choices are. He relates it to his Stepbrothers with John C. Reilly before people knew Reilly could do comedy. “The juxtaposition will knock people out,” he says. And combined with scenes where Marty awkwardly goads Cam's son to call him "dad" in what he turns into a negative TV ad about how Cam is unable to take care of his own family, much less an entire state, this movie seems just ridiculous enough to still seem like a fictional film instead of a documentary. But we'll see. There are a few months to go until our actual elections.
Meanwhile Zach Galifianakis just wants to make sure that you walk away from the film with "an empty bag of popcorn and no hope for our country." He might get his wish.
