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Most people, I fear, will not get the joke that is Oliver Stone’s W.

To really appreciate what he’s trying to do, it helps to be familiar with the last movie he made about an American president — 1995’s Nixon. And since that movie happens to be among my personal top ten, I got the joke. And it was fantastic.

Nixon worked as a big, epic film with echoes of Citizen Kane (and maybe even a little Shakespeare) because its subject was a tragic figure. Granted, Stone took some liberties (he’s built a reputation on those liberties), but the essence of the man, as far as I can tell, rang true. Richard Nixon pulled this country through some of its darkest times: he escalated an unpopular war and he abused executive powers on an unprecedented scale. And, as documents and transcripts continue to emerge even now, we begin to get a picture of a petty, hate-filled man who managed to claw his way to the top fueled by spite and determination alone.

But he was also quite a smart man, for all his flaws. And beyond that, despite a legacy that will forever be tainted by the horrors of Vietnam and the travesty that was Watergate, he was actually one of the most accomplished presidents of the 20th century. He ended the draft, started the Environmental Protection Agency and opened diplomatic channels with China. And though it was an effort that had begun with his bitter rival, he was sitting in the big chair when we landed a man on the moon.

It was this complexity — the sense that he could have been a truly great man if he could only emerge from the massive shadow of his own persecution complex — that made Nixon such an interesting character study.

And this is why W works so well. Because really, at its heart, the movie is nothing more than a spoof of Nixon. Trust me; Ive seen Nixon dozens of times over the years, and I can assure you that this movie hits all the same beats as its predecessor. Same jumping-around-in-time structure, same “rise to power, overcoming failure before achieving ultimate success” direction. There are even a couple of scenes that were almost exact copy-and-paste echoes of that other film.

Once you realize this is what Stone is doing — actually creating a parody of his own work — you realize the whole genius metatext of the thing. George W. Bush stoked the fires of an unpopular war and abused his executive power. Only… there’s no complexity there to balance it out. There’s absolutely nothing you can point to and say “well, yes, those are unfortunate character flaws, but at least he accomplished this.”

The Baby Boom generation often points at Nixon as the embodiment of the evils of the right wing establishment, and Stone hasn’t shied away from this interpretation throughout his body of work. The “evil” of our generation, he seems to be saying, isn’t epic or tragic or flawed — it’s just plain stupid. Our great national tragedy wasn’t the story of unchecked power in the hands of a conflicted genius. Imagine Jim Varney’s Ernest in a remake of Citizen Kane and you’ll begin to approximate the feeling.

And somehow, knowing full well that Stone is one subtle shade of bias away from full-on propaganda, movies like this really manage to open my eyes — not so much through the facts that they present, but through their challenges to see the world differently than it’s been presented to me. I’d even go as far as saying that W rounds off the political trilogy that began with JFK and continued with Nixon — much like the real world that it reflects, the saga (such as it is) ends not with a bang or a whimper but with a sort of sad punchline.

Thankfully, the world continues forward and we appear to be correcting some of the more atrocious mistakes of recent years. But in the dark, semi-fictional reflective world of Oliver Stone’s political films, this makes a fine coda. And it’s a lot funnier now that it’s not actually happening.

You wouldn’t think to expect subtlety from Mike Judge, the man who brought us Beavis and Butt-head. But it’s easy to forget that this is the same man who also brought us King of the Hill, perhaps the most subtly cruel and satirical show of its kind. Office Space, Judge’s live-action directorial debut, has become a sort of contemporary comedy classic (rightfully so, in my eyes), and it resided squarely in the middle of the subtlety continuum — there were a few hidden jabs here and there, but largely the point was pretty apparent.

This brings us to Idiocracy, perhaps the most blatant satire I have ever seen. With a central conceit like “humanity is spiraling uncontrollably into a genetic cul-de-sac of stupidity,” though, you really can’t afford to wrap your social observations in the stealthy cloak of the understated. And so, Judge returns to somewhat familiar ground, taking us into a future ruled and populated by dull-witted morons who sit around watching TV shows like “Ow, My Balls!” and obsessively consuming drinks with “electrolytes,” despite not having the first clue what an electrolyte actually is. (For the record, neither do I.)

The setup almost sounds a bit like Futurama — an average guy gets cryogenically frozen and wakes up 500 years in the future. But whereas Philip J. Fry eventually learns to adapt to a world of robots, casual space travel and Jewish lobster men, Luke Wilson’s Joe (a deliberately average man) never really comes to terms with his new world, where the top movie is called Ass, and is exactly what the title indicates.

Here’s what happened, as the film’s prologue explains: stupid people breed a lot, and smart people don’t. So the gene pool ends up saturated with trailer trash, while book-reading folk like you and me eventually die out. This is definitely a theory I can get behind — largely because I argued it myself in Sarcastic Voyage some years back. (Just so we’re clear: I’m not accusing Judge and Etan Coen — no, not that Coen, apparently — of stealing my idea. It’s a sound logical argument that’s probably been made by people a lot smarter than any of us.) So yeah, Joe wakes up on a world where the stupid evolved from man.

What follows is a relatively typical formula comedy — Joe’s out of place in this new world. Joe finds new friends. Joe experiences peril, then pulls himself heroically from the peril. Joe gets the girl and lives happily ever after. It’s a more than adequate framework on which to hang the jokes, so I’m fine with all that.

Some have criticized the film’s relatively cheap production values and flimsy special effects. I can’t imagine the kind of person that goes to a movie like Idiocracy and expects Lord of the Rings-level digital wizardry, but to each his own, I suppose. It’s not meant to be a sci-fi epic, people. It’s a comedy. And, Ghostbusters notwithstanding, good comedies do not feature state-of-the-art effects. It really is okay.

Like I said, this movie ain’t subtle, and it’s far funnier for it. Most of the gags (even the relatively innocuous background details) whack you in the face repeatedly. But I really can’t see how it would work any other way. Somehow, as he did with Beavis and Butt-head, Judge has managed to make intelligent social commentary without showing any evidence of intelligence on the surface. In showing us the exploits of the profoundly stupid, he’s making a comment on stupidity itself. And perhaps that’s the subtlest satire of all.

Huh huh, “ass.”

Okay, I may be excited because I just got out of this movie 15 minutes ago, but I swear to you: this is the best, most faithful and purely entertaining comic book movie ever. I so completely trust Sam Raimi with anything Spider-man-related now, because he’s knocked it out of the park twice in a row.

Spidey 2 covers a lot of ground — the famous “Spider-man no more” storyline from the character’s earlier years, the introduction of Doctor Octopus, the continuance of the whole on again/off again romance between Peter Parker and Mary Jane Watson and strong hints pertaining to at least two major villains to come.

As with the first movie, I wish Spidey had slung a few more of his characteristic wisecracks — after all, part of the pull of this character is that he’s a nerdy guy with a wreck of a life who becomes a cocky, confident superhero. But that minor complaint aside, this really was as close to perfection as the genre has come to date. I loved it.

I didn’t learn a whole lot from this movie that I didn’t already know (mostly from reading Moore’s books), but I’m glad it’s out. Selling me on why this President has to go is a no-brainer, but I think F911 is starting to sell certain parts of America on the same point.

All the Michael Moore touchstones are here, and aside from a bit of emotional manipulation toward the end, this was a top-notch film. I still take most of Moore’s points with a grain of salt, but his underlying thesis remains pretty solid: Bush’s negligence — whether accidental or deliberate (as a tool of furthering his own agenda) — has driven us further and further from the truth of September 11.

Why are we in Iraq? Who knows. Maybe Michael Moore will force more people to ask this question. And hopefully they’ll remember that question when they’re in the booth in November.

I discovered this one on Comedy Central a few weeks ago, then immediately did what I do anytime I see a movie on Comedy Central: I realized that it had been edited to shreds and added to my Netflix queue for a proper look. I’m glad I did.

Wet Hot American Summer is a production involving many of the members of the now-defunct comedy troupe, The State. It takes place at a summer camp in the early 80s, and plays out as Meatballs if Meatballs were actually funny. Of particular note: Janeane Garofolo playing it not-sarcastic, an awesome motorcycle/foot chase sequence and a wise talking can of soup (?!). If you enjoyed The State, chances are you’ll enjoy this underpromoted gem as well.

It’s hard to imagine what Kill Bill would have been like if it had been released as one big film — Volume 2 is just so amazingly different in tone and feeling than Volume 1. This one is a lot more personal, focusing on individual characters facing off more than huge group action sequences. A couple of moments got genuine reactions out of me, which is incredibly rare for a movie. In all, this movie earns my highest praise — it was nearly 3 hours and I didn’t notice the time at all. I can’t wait till it’s out on DVD, because this is definitely a repeater.

Don’t ask me to explain this one — it’s just good. It starts out as one kind of movie and becomes something completely different. The problem is, if I tell you what it becomes, that kind of ruins some of the story. Just trust me when I say this one is worth taking a chance for. Rent it. Watch it. Stick with it if you’re not getting it. By the end, it will all make a certain sense, but you’re probably going to want to see it again. Great writing and acting, and the director does a phenomenal job of establishing the creepy mood of the whole thing.

Okay, first of all… this is not “the fourth movie by Quentin Tarantino,” dammit. It’s the third and a half. The cynical half of my mind thinks QT and Miramax split this movie to double their profits, but the part of my mind that has ADD is glad that they did. I’m not sure I would have had such a positive experience with a 4-hour movie rather than two 2-hour movies.

The weird thing is, I hate kung fu movies. I avoided Kill Bill for a long time pretty much on that basis alone. But I’m here to tell you what none of this movie’s cheerleaders were able to tell me: this is much less a kung fu movie than it is a Quentin Tarantino movie. And not the Tarantino of Jackie Brown, either — this is full-cylinders, completely over-the-top Pulp Fiction Tarantino. It’s been 10 years since I’ve seen that guy… I almost forgot what he was like.

Kill Bill does have kung fu movie elements, but it also owes a great deal to the classic revenge-driven spaghetti westerns of Sergio Leone. I guess you could say it’s about Uma Thurman’s character seeking vengeance from the people who fucked up her life, but I only say that in the interest of encapsulating the plot in a sentence. The actual telling is an insane mix of styles, genres and presentation (one flashback is even told in the form of an anime sequence). There’s lots of humor, lots of blood (seems like any wound, from slight nick to beheading, warrants a fountain of 80 gallons of red stuff) and very little taken genuinely serious. Not to say that you don’t care about the character (and Uma is the perfect choice, incidentally), just that a Tarantino flick is usually more about style than substance. He’s one of the rare directors who can wear that badge with pride, because his is a style worth watching.

I did have a few minor gripes. The dialogue was a little awkward in bits, though much of it was typical QT (”my name is Buck and I’m here to fuck”). The DVD apparently will not automatically subtitle the 25% or so of the movie that’s in Japanese — you have to know enough to turn the subtitles on before you start watching. And the violence, though not especially disturbing, started to wear a little thin by the end. Still, these are minor annoyances. I was captivated for the full two hours, even during the 30-minute kung fu action sequence at the end. And that’s saying a lot. I’ll definitely be seeing volume 2 as soon as I can.

What a fantastic movie, but then, I’ve yet to see a Coen brothers flick that disappoints. All the staples are here: comedy, unlikely plot twists, romance and that amazing dialogue that you’d never hear coming out of any real person’s mouth, yet it still manages to sound real and convincing.

Plus, between this and O Brother, Where Art Thou? (Lauri’s all-time favorite movie), they’ve made me look differently upon Hollywood Hunk George Clooney. I can think of no one better to carry their material.

How the hell do they manage to keep making such bizarre, funny movies through mainstream studios? This stuff (with the possible exception of Fargo) wouldn’t pass the “would my mom like it?” test, but somehow it continues to thrive. I’m glad… these guys are easily the most consistently entertaining filmmakers working today.

A great concept with awesome jokes that’s almost completely ruined by the horribly transparent Step By Step Comedy Formula™. You know what I mean: guy’s in a rut, something fantastic happens to guy, guy abuses fantastic situation for personal gain, guy loses girl, guy turns life around amd learns a valuable lesson, guy gets girl back. Christ, enough already. Anyway, if you watch just for the gags, it’s highly worth it — lots of really clever stuff, and the sight of Jim Carey being balls-out goofy, which is what he does best. Morgan Freeman as God is a nice bit of casting also; it’s hard to think of anyone else in Hollywood with that perfect mix of dignity and humor.

And I would be remiss if I did not mention the real reason I enjoyed this movie: Jennifer Aniston. For a PG-13 movie, we sure get a generous helping of my favorite Friend. From jumping around without a bra on to fondling her newly-Bruce-enlarged breasts to wriggling in orgasmic delight, this is an Aniston smorgasboard the likes of which I have never seen before. But yeah, the jokes were good too. Really.