Bush and Cheney: The Movie

L: Jeff T. Green / Getty Images; R: AP Photo The consultant for Oliver Stone’s Nixon—Richard Nixon’s White House counsel—writes the script for the last scene of the Bush presidency: the confrontation between George W. Bush and Dick Cheney over a pardon for I. Lewis “Scooter” Libby, Cheney’s fall-guy.

What if Oliver Stone had waited to do his George W. Bush film W. after the presidency had ended? What if he asked me for my thoughts about the apparent split between Bush and Dick Cheney over a pardon of I. Lewis “Scooter” Libby—like what happened, what did it mean, how might it be seen? When I did, in fact, consult with Oliver on Nixon, I often did so by submitting suggested inserts for his evolving script, remembering Oliver’s admonishment that he was not making a documentary but rather a dramatization to make his points. So that is what I have done here:

FADE IN:

INT.—THE WHITE HOUSE/SMALL ROOM OFF OVAL OFC—DAY

A white-jacketed waiter clears the lunch table and leaves. Vice President Cheney is seated in a wheelchair, while the attention-deficit-disordered President Bush is on his feet, bouncing around, and stretching his leg muscles over his chair seat. We pick up on the conversation as the camera opens on the scene.

BUSH
. . . and now I can bench press over three hundred pounds. [Pause as Bush stretches.] Anything else, big guy? It’s our last lunch here, so hit me.

CHENEY
You’ve not responded to my memo on Scooter Libby. I think—

BUSH
Whooooe. Let’s not go there big fella. I told you when I commuted Scooter, keeping his sorry ass out of jail, that I wouldn’t pardon him. I haven’t changed my mind. That was your fucked-up scheme that backfired. [Shaking his head with the memory.] My daddy really chewed my ass out for revealing a CIA covert agent. You went too far, big guy. Strikes me, Scooter’s such a piss-poor liar you’re lucky ole Fitz, Fitz, what-ever-the-hell-his-name-is, didn’t nail your ass too.

CHENEY
Scooter wants his life back, and I—

BUSH
Listen Dick, I can understand why a guy named “Scooter” was scared shitless about going to the big house. That’s why I agreed to commute him, but—

We hear a scratching, and barking, at the window of the French doors leading into the office from the South Lawn. It interrupts the president, who stops talking, goes to the door, and lets First Pooch Barney inside. Bush waves to the groundskeeper.

BUSH
(shouting to the groundskeeper; then speaking caringly to Barney)

I’ll take him up to the Residence. Thanks, Ben.

Hey, little man, get on in here before you freeze your itty bitty butt.

Barney jumps in and starts sniffing about the office, as the conversation resumes.

CHENEY
George, the problem is that Libby might turn on us. He knows about everything. He could—