There’s a delicious irony produced by the satiric scenario of Swing Vote: a certain moment when Republicans start sounding like Democrats, and Democrats start sounding like Republicans.  Very much a propos of everything, it’s also an irony that’s often reflected in real-world campaigning, as candidates pander to whichever crowd they happen to be speaking.

In the case of Swing Vote, that crowd happens to be one Bud Johnson, a booze-swilling, trailer-dwelling, pickup truck-driving failed husband and struggling, daughter-disappointing single father. 

Molly is a precocious school girl who is both a liberal and a conservative, a passionate environmentalist who also aspires to be Chairman of the Fed.  She’s disgusted with her dad, particularly in light of the upcoming Presidential election… which Bud intends to skip entirely.  “It’s just a way to make you feel like you’re in control of something,” he tells Molly.  But she knows better, because she’s been well taught: it’s a “social contract” in which every vote matters.

Through a comedic stretch of fate, in turns out that every vote very much does matter in the contest between incumbent Republican President Boone and Democratic challenger Donald Greenleaf… and Bud’s vote happens to the most important swing vote of all, as both Boone’s and Greenleaf’s camps end up courting Bud’s vote with all the gusto of an out-of-work hooker in Vegas.  That’s why they do the old platform switcheroo, and that’s where this film strikes rich—if not particularly dangerous—satire.

Along the way, director and co-writer Joshua Michael Stern—whose only other film, 2005’s Neverwas, went straight to DVD—treats the audience to a skewering of lax parenting, national politics of all stripes, political correctness, blue-collar stereotypes, and network news.  “This isn’t news.  This isn’t life.  This is bigger,” says a local news manager played by George Lopez.  “This is television.”

Oh, yeah.

As Bud, Kevin Costner delivers his most enjoyably scruffy performance in years, even if it does seem awfully reminiscent of his characterizations in both Tin Cup and Bull Durham.  This is the type of material that Costner is simply very good with, and he’s in top form here, fitting right into a “Texico, New Mexico” landscape replete with its seedy bars, slacker buddies, NASCAR obsessions, and “Posse Bingo Hall.”

Supporting performances are equally solid, if not particularly deep—though I found Paula Patton’s reporter far from believable.  And don’t let anybody convince you that Madeline Carroll, as Molly, is just some Disney clone of Abigail Breslin.  She’s a fine young actress in her own right, and plays well off of Costner’s endearingly weaselish Bud.

Just bear in mind that you’ll be watching a satire, or the often crass and vulgar tone of the film’s first half might throw you entirely.  When the ten-year-old protagonist of a film has to tell her father, “Stop using ‘Jesus’ as a cuss word.  He’s a billion people’s savior, you know,” you can be sure you’re in for an earful.

But it’s all in the interest of a very serious and worthy point, an on-the-mark indictment of every lazy and convenient choice that we make—of a twisted vision of “America: where Americans come first.”

In the end, Swing Vote appeals to our better nature as citizens, and to the better nature of our politicians as leaders.

If you’re at all apathetic about voting, or if you’re at all fed up with the state of politics in America—and you don’t mind a little hayseed stuck between your teeth or up your shorts—get out and see Swing Vote.  I’m very glad I did.

Swing Vote is rated PG-13 for “language.”  I mentioned that, didn’t I?  If you missed it, see above.

Courtesy of a national publicist, Greg attended a promotional screening of Swing Vote.