The Butler: Prosaic Fare, Ushered Along By Polished Performances

Writer-director Lee Daniels’ new feature, The Butler, is an earnest, sturdy sort of picture, straightforward in its aims and unremarkable in its execution. Daniels and co-scripter Danny Strong stick to a standard-issue biopic template, depicting the latter half of the 20th century through the eyes of White House servant Cecil Gaines (Forest Whitaker). Very loosely inspired by the life of Eugene Allen, The Butler glides through seven presidential administrations, over five decades. The film is partly a thumbnail political history, and a partly a portrait of Cecil’s conflicted role as a silent black witness in the halls of American power.

Daniels and Gaines’ screenplay is weakest when it indulges in middlebrow nostalgia and cheap sentiment. The film positions Cecil as an observer at all the momentous inflection points of the Civil Rights movement, often resulting in a gaudy, Forrest Gump-like implausibility. In an effort to link Cecil’s challenges with the world beyond the White House’s rarefied atmosphere, the script adds a rebellious son (David Oyelowo) who is determined to take up the activist mantle and, if necessary, martyr himself. The parent-child conflict offers melodramatic sparks, but at the expense of originality or profundity.

The performances are ultimately what salvage The Butler from its prosaic beats and drab formal character. While the presidential mimicry on display is distracting, and Oyelowo merely functional, the remainder of the cast is stellar. Whitaker marvelously conveys Cecil’s prideful yet diffident demeanor, and the subtle evolution of his political consciousness. Oprah Winfrey is at the top of her actorly game as Cecil’s embittered wife, and there is abundant scene-stealing from a host of performers, among them Clarence Williams III and Terrence Howard. The cast’s commitment to tease out the tale’s humanistic drama and humor edges The Butler from forgettable to pleasurable.