Filmmakers Josh Kriegman and Elyse
Steinberg were hired in 2013 to document disgraced former US Representative
Anthony Weiner’s campaign for mayor of New York City. Though Weiner’s
seven-term congressional career had been brought to an abrupt end in 2011 — when
he tweeted a photo of his boxer brief-covered bulge out into the world, and
kicked off a sexting scandal that extinguished his rising star — this mayoral
campaign was to be his comeback.
That’s not
exactly how things panned out.
What’s
remarkable is how successful the campaign is at its beginnings. Weiner leads
the polls, and the citizens of New York actively seem to want to forgive him.
Then a new round of explicit selfies and texts come to light after Weiner had
so adamantly insisted he’d put all that behind him, and everything goes south. Kriegman and Steinberg’s are there to capture the implosion
from within, and the new documentary, “Weiner,” is the fascinating result.
Opening with
a montage of highlights from Weiner’s time in the House of Representatives, where
his fiery rhetoric made him something of a hero to progressives at a time when
so many Democrats lacked the courage to stand up for their convictions. There’s
a twinge of sadness over what might have been. Weiner may very well have been
able to accomplish some good things in his career, which makes the anger from
voters (to say nothing of his own staff members) all the more palpable once the
other shoe drops.
The
hotheaded, combative nature that won him so many fans comes back to bite him in
the ass. Weiner’s scrappy, fighting ways make it impossible for him to accept
defeat, and he refuses to drop out even after it’s become abundantly clear that
there’s no coming back from this. The lengthy mayoral campaign leaves plenty of
time for the media and New York voters to ask why he deserves another chance
after deceiving the public, earning back their grudging respect, only to end up
doing it all over again.
It’s
mesmerizing to see the inner-workings of a campaign in crisis. Given
unprecedented access, Kriegman (the congressman’s
former chief of staff) and Steinberg witness it all. The second wave of
scandals involved a young woman named Sydney Leathers, who uses the attention
to secure her own 15 minutes of fame. By the time Leathers is chasing Weiner
through a McDonald’s, it seems more likely that you’re watching satirical
fiction than a chronicle of real-life incidents.
There’s
certainly a train wreck aspect to the film as we watch everything fall apart.
It’s compelling in a way that you can’t tear yourself away from. We all love a
scandal; the more salacious the details, the better. But the directors manage
to paint Weiner as a complicated individual, who can’t seem to help himself,
and his plight is both funny and heart-wrenching at the same time.
His
conviction is almost admirable until the moments when we see firsthand the toll
it takes on his home life. His wife, Huma Abedin, can’t avoid being sucked into
the media frenzy that ensues. The film’s most sympathetic figure, it’s
impossible not to feel for her as she valiantly attempts to salvage both her
dignity and her own political aspirations (Abedin is currently a top advisor
for Hillary Clinton’s presidential campaign), all while facing scrutiny from
the media as well as the public over her decision to stand by her man.
That throughline is also the source of the film’s most
uncomfortable moments. At home, the tension between the couple is palpable, but
for her part, Abedin remains tight-lipped around the filmmakers’ cameras. She’s
content to let silent glares speak for her, and verbal insight she gives into
her state of mind comes when she’s asked by Kriegman
how she’s feeling, responding that “it’s like having a nightmare,” before
smiling and walking out of the room.
Weiner is
clearly a rampant narcissist: his ambition seems only matched by his arrogance.
That craving for attention is a trait he seems to share with the majority of
politicians. Late in the film, Kriegman asks Weiner,
“Why are you letting us film this?” Weiner himself doesn’t seem to have an
answer; the best he can offer is a noncommittal shrug.
Still, in
the age of Trump — when it appears we have a candidate whose behavior can’t
grow odious enough to dissuade his base from voting for him — Weiner’s failings
come across as almost quaint by comparison. Now, the film feels even more like
it’s capturing the moment just before politics descended over the edge
completely. With a potent cocktail of politics, ego, and media sensationalism,
“Weiner” offers a spellbinding (and often horrifying) snapshot of where we are
now.
This article appears in Jun 22-28, 2016.
