‘Fair Game: Director’s Cut’: Inspired By The Trump Administration, Doug Liman Re-Cuts His 2010 Political Drama [Review]

Finally. After eight years, it’s finally here. Wait, you aren’t one of the presumed millions of people who’ve been waiting almost a decade for a director’s cut of “Fair Game?” Well, whoever’s been asking for this, your prayers are answered and all praise rightfully goes to President Trump.

Sarcasm aside, if you’ve never seen the true-life political drama, which was originally released in 2010, don’t expect to be called before a firing squad. “Fair Game” is not exactly required viewing. However, the reasons as to why director Doug Liman (“Edge of Tomorrow”) decided to re-edit the film deserve attention and surprisingly, or perhaps expectedly, involve the ever-controversial POTUS.

But first, a quick synopsis: based on two memoirs with ridiculously long titles (“Fair Game: My Life as a Spy, My Betrayal by the White House and “The Politics of Truth: Inside the Lies that Led to War and Betrayed My Wife’s CIA Identity: A Diplomat’s Memoir), the film centers around Valerie Plame, a CIA operative whose identity is leaked to the media after her diplomat husband, Joseph C. Wilson, writes an op-ed for The New York Times criticizing the George W. Bush’s State of the Union address in 2003.

“I was never truly satisfied with the version of Fair Game that was theatrically released,” said Liman in a director’s statement released in September. Notably, the filmmaker stated that President Trump’s pardoning of Scooter Libby, the individual responsible for leaking Plame’s identity to the media, served as a catalyst for the film’s re-release. “My hope is that audiences are reminded to hold their government accountable and remember that the actions of just one or two individuals can make a difference.”

Overall, the original cut of “Fair Game” is a competent, albeit convoluted film that champions a pair of memorable performances from Naomi Watts (Plame) and Sean Penn (Wilson) but ultimately falls prey to forgettability. Unfortunately, Liman’s freshly pressed director’s cut fails to distinguish itself or amend any of the shortcomings existent in the 2010 version. Apart from a handful of alternate takes, extended scenes, and a brief voiceover, the director’s cut is practically indistinguishable from its unexceptional ancestor.

Coinciding with the 2010 edition, the film’s first act is scatterbrained and choppy — the opening credits retains the Gorillaz song awkwardly playing over news coverage — as exposition gets tossed about by two-dimensional side characters. Although intriguing ideas pop up from time-to-time, they are never fully explored to any worthwhile conclusions, resulting in undercooked storylines that speed by at a disorienting rate.

On the other hand, both versions of “Fair Game” provide a rare example of movies that noticeably improve as the film progresses. Once the story shifts gears and transforms from a derivative political thriller into a character-focused drama, the majority of the film’s flaws fade into the background. By the second act, the procedural jargon is dialed back and replaced by sharply written marital strife, allowing emotion to take precedence.

Consequently, the performances from Watts and Penn in the director’s cut not only continue to function as the only worthwhile elements of the film on the whole but also allow “Fair Game” to surpass the surface-level social critiques that the story relies upon, considering both actors elevate beyond the prescribed material. Furthermore, the most notable alterations between the original and redux reside in Watts’ and Penn’s performances. While the 2010 edition paints Plume as withdrawn and brazen, the director’s cut emphasizes the character’s vulnerability. Similarly, Penn’s portrayal of Wilson is scaled back and comes off as less theatrical and more genuine.

If nothing else, one cannot help compare the film’s premise to the current American political climate in 2018. Certain plot points hit remarkably close to home, almost to a frightening degree. Nevertheless, the theatrical version of “Fair Game” raises the same exact questions posed by the director’s cut, and while the ending’s fusion of embittered cynicism and emboldened hope provides a pleasant aftertaste, you’ll likely forget about the film by the time you turn off your television.

As a piece of art created in response to a political regime change, Liman’s director’s cut of “Fair Game” is an intriguing trial run in the opportunities that streaming services allow filmmakers in the digital age. If the trend catches on, re-edits that are immediately available to the public could serve as an intriguing experiment for pre-existing films. Let’s hope a more interesting movie gets chosen next time. [C-]