Lee Daniels' the Butler

Lee Daniels’ The Butler is a movie that tries to cover a lot of ground in just over two hours, and doesn’t quite thoroughly succeed. But to say it “bit off more than it could chew” doesn’t seem apt because everything in it is done quite well, even if some parts seem more complete than others. More accurately, you could say it doesn’t live up to its full potential. But since its potential is so high—and I’d argue that a movie trying to explore history, politics, race, and family drama all at once has a lot of it—even not quite fulfilling all of it still results in a strong motion picture.

The story is inspired by the life of the late Eugene Allen, who served in the White House as a butler from 1952 to 1986. The film changes his name to Cecil Gaines (played Forest Whitaker), and depicts his tenure as slightly shorter, serving the administrations from Dwight D. Eisenhower (Robin Williams) to Ronald Reagan (Alan Rickman). From there, it heads in a direction more fiction than fact (save for the movie’s later moments depicting Gaines as an enthusiastic supporter of Barack Obama in 2008). This happens in a lot of ways, but most obviously, it gives him a son (David Oyelowo) who experiences many major civil rights moments directly, such as sit-ins at white-only cafes, the Freedom Riders, the assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr. (Nelsan Ellis), the Black Panthers, and the anti-Apartheid movement of the 1980s.

Despite the underlying disbelief that so many historical moments and figures could be so indirectly-yet-closely connected, the fictional stuff is actually the compelling heart of the picture. The civil rights content is PG-13 unflinching. And yet, it’s the unspoken conflict that’s more potent. Throughout, Gaines is the receiver of both outright racism from white employers and more subtle scorn from both blacks and whites. Some is from his own son, as Oyelowo holds him in contempt for being a butler, a servant of the white world. But Whittaker gives the character a quiet dignity and pride that’s rock solid. Even though he’s, as the picture puts it, “invisible” and never reacts to such disrespect, he exudes an aura of strength, that he’s not lying down and taking it lightly. This also makes the father-son dynamic quite powerful, as the rift between the two is palpable instead of melodramatic, their reconciliation more emotional than sensational. Both men are excellent in their roles, whether together or apart onscreen. And though Cecil’s slower to adapt to changing racial issues than the world around him (less out of just acceptance than fear for his family’s safety, especially his son’s), he does come around. When that happens, it’s almost a cheer-worthy moment.

That by itself is a great movie. It could have been about any butler in the same time period and still worked. But by making Gaines the butler for seven Presidents, the movie also has the opportunity to present the more distant Executive Branch view of the aforementioned history-making moments. Sometimes it does. Other times, the scenes in the White House are only anecdotes, from the historical (Gaines consoling Minka Kelly’s Jackie Kennedy after her husband’s assassination) to the mundane (a humorous scene of Liev Schreiber as Lyndon Johnson barking orders while on the toilet). Aside from John Cusack (who doesn’t even passably look like Richard Nixon), the portrayals of Presidents and First Ladies range from adequate to really good. But these scenes are too slight and inconsistent in tone to really form an equal contrast with the ground-level depiction of the civil rights movement. Well done though they may be, they seem more like a sideshow to the story of Gaines and his relationship with his son.

The non-historical supporting roles, which get more time than the Presidential ones, are wonderful. As Whittaker’s coworkers, Lenny Kravitz and Cuba Gooding, Jr. add comic relief, but also some human touches and outside commentary on the issues depicted. And Oprah brings grace and authority to the role of Mrs. Gaines. Yet at the same time, her character seemed underdeveloped; her strength is never in question, but her weaknesses are too understated. She battles a drinking problem and has an affair, but the film covers this so sparsely you could miss it (I actually did miss the affair part, and didn’t know until I read a synopsis). Another who could have used some more development is the Gaines’ other son played by Elijah Kelley. He’s barely integral to the story until suffering a tragedy late in the picture, one that not only contradicts real history but just seems like a superfluous misfortune in addition to everything else in the story. 

But despite what could have been better, not a single part of The Butler is bad. Sometimes, most of the time, it’s a great picture.