Mitt

On October 3, 2012, the day of Governor Mitt Romney's triumphant defeat of President Barack Obama in the first presidential debate before the election, I wrote a forceful (to the say the least) article on why I thought Obama should be re-elected over Romney. It was mostly an editorial on reasons I thought Obama was more or less effective as our leader--healthcare, economic stimulus, taking out Bin Laden, LGBT issues, etc. were all covered. The article practically skipped any mention of his opponent, save for the final paragraph. Calling him a "weak opponent," I issued the usual charges: Romney is a flip-flopper. Romney is "severely conservative," as he put it. Romney is bad for the country. "It's not his far-right conservatism, his omnipresence of position changes, or the dire state of our economy and standing in the world should he become president that frighten me," I wrote. "It's his character."

Romney, at that time, disgusted me. His 47 percent comment, addressed here in Gregory Whiteley's new documentary about Romney's campaigns for president, was one of the most blood-boiling comments I had heard from a presidential nominee. I regret questioning Romney's character, and one part of the article I also regret is in reference to Romney's car elevators. The revelation, first revealed in a Politico article from May 12, 2012, opened with this: "At Mitt Romney's proposed beach house, the cars will have their own separate elevator." In the documentary "Mitt," we see a behind-the-scenes moment with Romney and his family, who complain about then-Senator (and now Secretary of State) John Kerry criticizing the Romney family's car garages. "That was because of my wife's MS," one of his sons tells Mitt to say, "you A-hole."

A simple Google search did not show results suggesting Mitt Romney had in fact installed the garages for his wife, Ann, due to her multiple sclerosis. But there's no reason not to believe the defense. The point is that if the defense is true, then criticizing assistance for those with disabilities is further evidence that we're living in hyperpartisan times and that we ought to be ashamed of ourselves. And so Whiteley's documentary does not aspire to be combative, like Michael Moore's "Fahrenheit 9/11," or thoroughly thought provoking, like Errol Morris' "The Fog of War." The aim of this movie is simply to show you the behind-the-scenes of both of Romney's campaign, and perhaps for you even to like one of the most unlikable candidates for president in recent memory. In regards to the second goal, it's actually effective.

How lucky Whiteley was when the Romney family approved of the making of a documentary about his first campaign for president back in 2006; surely he could not have imagined that this would in fact be a six year journey, an intimate portrait unlike that of any other candidate in 2008 or 2012. We are reminded of the fascinating race that was 2008; the Democrats, with their history-making candidates, and the Republicans, awkwardly trying to show the country they weren't George W. Bush. At the time, you will recall, the nomination seemed to be Rudy Giuliani's for the taking (Rudy Giuliani?), and John McCain, who initially started as Giuliani's main opponent, kept sinking and sinking and sinking. Romney stood as sort of the most credible conservative alternative, yet conservatives were very suspicious (and rightfully so) of Romney due to his frequent flip-flops. Romney, aware of this perception, tells his advisers and family members that he is the "flipping Mormon." Watch McCain's sucker punch, seen in the documentary, to Romney, mockingly calling him "the candidate of change."

But also consider Romney's response. He tells McCain that the "I know more about foreign policy than you do" argument is flawed. Romney was right. The first presidential debate between McCain and Obama focused on foreign policy, and yet not only did Obama actually beat McCain, but McCain lost the election, largely because of the Iraq War and the economy. The point I'm trying to make is that Romney is seen frequently in this documentary as a very astute candidate. He humbly calls himself a flawed one, one who doesn't really fit the Republican mold, and yet time after time in this film he is right. 

One time he was wrong however, is the actual election night, which is where our film opens. He doesn't have the president's number. Why would he need it? To concede, of course, and yet he hasn't even written a concession speech. Think of previous failed candidates--Mondale, Dukakis, Dole--they all knew, as everyone did, that they were going to lose. Romney, on the other hand, apparently really thought he was going to win, and who can blame him? After all, he probably was listing to the wrong pundits. (Next time he should read the greatest book on presidential elections, "The Keys to the White House.") One particular scene that I enjoyed was the very final one. I won't reveal it, only to say that it answered a question I'm sure many have had about losing presidential nominees: where do they go when they lose? In this scene, Mitt and Ann Romney seem content, about as content as someone can be who lost two consecutive presidential elections. But they're alive, as are the beautiful members of their family. Life goes on. The long day closes.