Scuppering its chance however, is writer Barry Levinson who fudges his premise by ignoring relevant controversies and issues in favour of a story that is part political comedy, part love story, part conspiracy thriller, all mish-mash.
Kicking off like Bulworth-lite, a promising first act allows Williams to fire on all cylinders as firebrand Tom Dobbs, climaxing with him calling the President and Republican nominee to task during an energetic debate scene.
But, Levinson does not want to scare his audience, and inserts a safe thriller/romantic subplot about computer boffin Eleanor (Linney) spotting a glitch in the new touch-screen voting software that is miscalculating votes.
Slimy company spin doctor Jeff Goldblum and a Steve Jobs like CEO (Rick Roberts) attempt to discredit her and then get really nasty, while she begins an unlikely affair with the President elect.
Safe political comedy is never funny and never relevant. Choosing a world where the President is a Democrat and Iraq isn’t happening, Levinson takes fuzzy swipes at spineless nominees, oil companies, poor education and welfare at the expense of real satire and jokes meant to kill.
Even the middle ground comedy is eventually sidelined in favour of conspiracy thriller hysterics, and an odd anti-smoking emphysema subplot involving Dobbs’ producer-turned-campaign-manager exists solely to give a wasted Christopher Walken something to do.
At least the not-as-good-as-you-remember Good Morning, Vietnam allowed Williams space to riff into the mike, here he is fighting to take charge of his own movie.
Also sacrificed early on is the interesting notion that this error, while completely undemocratic, might actually have been a good thing.
Man of the Year’s heart’s in the right place, but its mind is elsewhere and its funny bone is irreparably dislocated.
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