The depiction of dirty politics in an Omaha high school, and by extension dirtiness in the national politics, or dirtiness in the national character, observes the time-tested satirical strategy of making a big deal out of a little deal, namely a campaign for the presidency of the student council. It manages to be modishly "dark" without a pileup of corpses (the unimaginative shortcut to darkness). And in a refreshing switch from the John Hughes pattern of youth films, the adults are more subtly and realistically drawn than the youths, and all the more funny for it. Most of the adult performers benefit from their relative unfamiliarity to us (Phil Reeves merits special mention as the archetypal Principal: "If you want to be treated like adults, you have to act like adults"), and Matthew Broderick, the chief exception, is a deft enough comic actor to overcome his overfamiliarity. His is the pivotal role, the dedicated American History and Civics teacher who cannot bear the thought of a student council run by the self-anointed "overachiever" named Tracy Flick (campaign slogan: "Pick Flick"), and who accordingly prods a popular but lame-brained football player, presently sidelined with a broken leg, to run against her. Chris Klein hits a high note of a kind in his delivery of his campaign speech in front of the student body, a tuneless comic aria, no inflection, no punctuation, no comprehension, a masterpiece of monotone. And Reese Witherspoon, as the go-getter whose hand is always raised fastest, highest, and flutteriest in a classroom discussion, "stretches" herself (as they say) to the broadness and flatness of the side of a barn. Alexander Payne, the director, is very nearly as democratic with his disdain as in his earlier Citizen Ruth, though it must be said by way of reservation that high-school politics is a safer subject than the abortion debate, and that Election does not seek out any "cool" kids to pick on (it's an MTV production, after all), but contents itself with the Dumb Jock and the Apple Polisher. And of course the grownups. A further reservation: the employment of multiple narrators, whether or not copied straight from Tom Perrotta's original novel, sounds bookish. And a final reservation: the blah-looking image is the rough visual equivalent of the jock's droning oration, and no less open to scorn. (1999) — Duncan Shepherd