Directed by Herbert Ross
Starring John Cusack, James Spader, Imogen Stubbs
If you’ve ever wondered what would happen if you took The Firm, removed all the suspense, neutered the drama, and replaced the thriller with a yawn-inducing tale of political betrayal between frat bros, congratulations — you’ve just conjured True Colors. It’s the cinematic equivalent of a campaign bumper sticker: full of slogans, no soul, and you regret sticking with it halfway down the road.
John Cusack, abandoning his ‘80s boombox and trading it for an expensive suit, plays Peter Burton, a working-class guy with a chip on his shoulder and a greasy little soul to match. He’s all about ambition — the type of guy who would sell out his mother if it got him ten minutes on CNN. Opposite him is James Spader, playing Tim Gerrity, the nice guy with a trust fund and a spine made of overcooked linguine. He looks like he’s perpetually waiting for someone to hand him a martini and a therapist.
The two meet in law school, where a lifelong friendship is forged in a montage of parties, awkward hugs, and one spectacularly unbelievable fight. From there, Peter weasels his way up the political ladder like a ferret in a tuxedo, all the while stepping on everyone he once pretended to care about. Tim, meanwhile, stands around looking betrayed, as if someone ate the last biscotti at brunch.
The “twist” is that Peter isn’t just morally bankrupt — he’s practically foreclosed. And the government wants Tim to wear a wire and bust his old buddy. It’s Shakespearean, if Shakespeare had stopped writing after a bad hangover and decided betrayal was best delivered via faxes and passive-aggressive stares.
Cusack is trying something here — a slick-talking snake in the grass — but he’s miscast. He doesn’t sell sleaze; he sells sensitivity. Watching him plot and manipulate is like watching a Labrador try to commit tax fraud. You don’t buy it, and you feel kind of bad for even asking.
Spader fares a bit better because being aloof and vaguely uncomfortable is kind of his brand. But he spends most of the movie wandering around like he’s just been slapped in a dream. At no point do you believe these two men ever liked each other, much less formed a friendship deep enough to require this level of operatic fallout. It’s like watching two coworkers have a falling-out over who took the last stapler cartridge, except with campaign donors and dull scandals.
And then there’s Imogen Stubbs, who plays Diana — the daughter of a senator and the unfortunate romantic ping-pong ball in this grim little game of backstabbing. She marries Cusack, flirts with Spader, and mostly stands around looking lovely and miserable, like someone who just realized she gave up Oxford for this nonsense. She’s kind of cute, sure — all porcelain and soft eyes — but the script gives her about as much depth as a hotel notepad.
The film tries to say something about power, corruption, and the cost of ambition. But instead of biting commentary, it offers all the emotional resonance of a C-SPAN rerun. The stakes are low, the energy is lower, and every scene feels like it was filmed under the influence of Ambien and awkward silence. The pacing crawls — you could run for Senate and lose twice in the time it takes this movie to make a point.
The direction is as stiff as the dialogue, which tries to be witty and erudite but lands with the elegance of a law school lecture read off a teleprompter during a hostage situation. No tension. No charm. Just scene after scene of men in suits having the cinematic equivalent of pissing contests with subpoenas.
True Colors thinks it’s about the gray areas of morality. It’s not. It’s about watching John Cusack try to act evil while James Spader looks personally offended by the script. And in the end, you don’t care who betrays who — you just want someone to betray the runtime and get this thing over with.
Final Verdict: A drab political snoozefest pretending to be a Shakespearean tragedy. Watch it only if you’re writing a dissertation on how not to structure a character arc… or if you have a thing for Imogen Stubbs blinking sadly into the void.
Rating: ★★☆☆☆ (2/5) – Only slightly more engaging than a filibuster, but at least shorter.
