Frontrunners' explores the cynical side of teenage politics

    At its core, high-school politics is really nothing more than a microcosm of the real thing. Whether the candidates are 16 or 60, the process is essentially the same — the electorate is shallow and superficial, the candidates are manipulative and political, and blatant pandering often reigns supreme.
    One should expect nothing different from Manhattan's Stuyvesant High School, one of the most competitive private schools in America and the subject of "Frontrunners," an 80-minute documentary by first-time director Caroline Suh. Suh follows the four candidates in the school's 2006 election for student council president from beginning to end, starting with the first day of primary season and finishing with a fiercely contested general election.
    Suh opens with a quote from Dick Morris, a former Clinton advisor and 1964 Stuyvesant graduate, who called the school's presidential race "the hardest race I ever fought." That opening, to borrow a line from a campaign speech made later in the film by a boy a quarter of Morris' age, "sets the bar high."
    Despite the brilliance of many of Stuyvesant's students, the election itself is really nothing extraordinary. Just as in any other election, the candidates look to pander to as many social and ethnic groups as possible, trying to compile "tickets" that blend presidential candidates and running mates who are white, black, Asian, Jewish, male, female, jocks, nerds, cheerleaders, what have you. The goal is simple: pull in as many groups as possible.
    But just as in all other American politics, the running mate is mostly an afterthought. The three stars of this film are the three presidential candidates. There is Mike, the council's CFO and the former sophomore class president, who tries and fails miserably to shirk his label as "the cocky one." There's Hannah, the government outsider, actress and cheerleading captain. And then there's George, the current chief of staff, who has ambitious visions of fiscal reform in student government. (There is also a fourth candidate, a jock named Alex who's a little too lazy to bother with campaigning. When asked about his lack of campaign posters, he deadpans, "Saves paper. I'm all for the environment.")
    Suh depends on three non-actor high school juniors to carry the drama of a feature-length film. The results is that certain parts of "Frontrunners" seem a little lacking in the dramatic, suspenseful element one would expect given the subject manner. Suh has an awkward way of shying away from the plot's crucial moments; for example, avoiding the candidates' faces as their winning or losing vote totals are announced.
    While the directing in "Frontrunners" is not ideal, a compelling story remains because of the strength of the character development. It's jarring to see the ever-confident Mike advising voters to "Make the right move" and select him. It's funny to see the visionary George talk about investing student funds "in our country's trusty banking system" (irony to come two years later), only to prompt his own running mate to ask, "Are we even allowed to do that?" And it's thought-provoking to see Hannah, making her first foray into student government, tell voters that the outsider is the best candidate for change. These speeches sound vaguely familiar, don't they?
    While many among Stuyvesant's electorate are shallow teenagers, with most of them readily admitting that high-school politics is a popularity contest, they are also savvy. They understand politics on a level far more cynical than the average high-schooler. The way these students talk about race, class and money, one can tell this is no ordinary election. But it is Suh's job to show, not just tell, how extraordinary this story is, and something about "Frontrunners" — the cinematography, the music, maybe just the pacing — isn't quite right.
     This story in general, however, is certainly enjoyable. The twists and turns in this plot cannot be scripted; these characters' arcs seem as fickle as the teenagers themselves. That's part of the fun of this film; perhaps it's fitting that the campaign theme music blasting from one candidate's boom box features Pete Townshend singing about a "teenage wasteland."
    Not to spoil the ending, but one of the three candidates is elected, fulfills all of his or her campaign promises and parlays the presidency into a fat envelope from Harvard. Did you expect anything less?