Documentaries about US elections, unlike the process itself, have not changed much since Robert Drew’s prototypical Direct Cinema masterpiece, “Primary” (1960). Nor should they, as demonstrated by Jesse Moss’s illuminating, moving, and, even in these bleak days, inspiring “Mayor Pete.” It’s streaming on Amazon Prime.
Picking the right candidate can help. Drew was onto something when he focused on John Kennedy in his Wisconsin face-off with Hubert Humphrey. Moss took a calculated risk with Pete Buttigieg, who was a long shot with seeming liabilities that could also be turned into potential assets. He was gay, his sole governing experience was as mayor of South Bend, Ind., and if he won he would at 39 become the youngest president in US history. As it turned out, he had to settle for being the first openly gay member of a presidential Cabinet. As secretary of transportation he’ll be putting in a lot of mileage promoting the new infrastructure bill, which incorporates many of the proposals he put forth during his campaign.
Buttigieg had some key credentials as well. He had served as a naval intelligence officer, with a stint in Afghanistan, and is proficient in eight languages, including Norwegian, Arabic, and Dari. His English is pretty good too — he speaks off the cuff in complete paragraphs, explaining complex issues with clarity and cogency much like another presidential longshot, Barack Obama. He even speaks in an Obama-like cadence — if you close your eyes it would be difficult to tell them apart.
But then there is the name. How do you pronounce it? Moss has fun early on with clips of right-wing pundits and politicians muffing and making fun of Buttigieg’s Maltese surname, but when Trump himself pronounces it correctly, however mockingly, it indicated that Buttigieg was becoming a force to contend with.
As Chasten Buttigieg, Pete’s husband, points out in one of his candid and insightful interviews with Moss, the campaign took off after a CNN town hall broadcast in which the candidate was at his best. Asked about Vice President Pence, Buttigieg, a devout Episcopalian, says, “Did he stop believing in Scripture when he started believing in Trump?” The audience loves it. In a field of more than 20 Democratic candidates he jumped to number three in the polls, behind Joe Biden and Bernie Sanders. A montage of his appearances on the talk shows and the covers of all the top magazines captures the surge in momentum and optimism. Money began to pour into his campaign, and things looked good heading into the first debate.
A fatal shooting of a Black man by a white police officer back in South Bend returned the campaign to reality. Buttigieg went back to the city to confront angry Black constituents and again it was the candidate at his best, but not the best optics. He faced harsh questions stoically, responding with contrite, carefully parsed answers, but it did not impress the network and cable cognoscenti.
Buttigieg’s flinty communications director, Lis Smith, bluntly tells him that Meghan McCain said he did “a piss-poor job of connecting with people,” Joy Behar said he “looked green” and “not strong enough,” and David Axelrod commented that his demeanor of being “cool, calm, and collected” served him well but not in a situation where he should be passionate. During the debate rehearsal Smith criticizes his performance brutally, and Buttigieg’s serene demeanor looks like it’s about to explode.
The tough love pays off, though. In the debate Buttigieg handles a question about the shooting and the racial troubles of his city by admitting his failure and expressing empathy with the victim’s family and the Black community. It’s a deft comeback. As the campaign rebounds, he connects with Black voters by comparing his experience of homophobia, of being regarded as an “other,” to racism — though acknowledging his advantage of white privilege. At a campaign benefit he explains that he decided to finally come out as gay in 2015 while mayor because he wanted to “start dating.” Then he passionately relates how if someone showed him what inside him made him gay, he would have “cut it out with a knife.”
After that appearance Chasten compliments Pete on his speech and pointedly asks, “Do you like using the whole ‘I wish I wasn’t gay’ thing?” Though throughout the campaign Chasten provides Pete with unqualified support, he does not hesitate to let him know when he thinks he is going astray. Moss captures this and the moments when they manage to express tenderness in the few opportunities they have during the campaign.
Here is something not seen in many documentaries of this kind, which usually focus on logistics, conflict, and ambition. Moss achieves a kind of bittersweet, emotional epiphany near the end, when Lou Reed’s “Perfect Day” plays on the soundtrack as Chasten and Pete hug and kiss at the podium before Pete announces he is ending his campaign. That’s something future documentarians should take note of when they make a film about a political campaign — more hugging, kissing, and Lou Reed.
“Mayor Pete” can be streamed on Amazon Prime. Go to www.amazon.com/Mayor-Pete-Buttigieg/dp/B09K345BVR.
Peter Keough can be reached at petervkeough@phx.com.