(No) Shame

WEINER (A-minus) - Anthony Weiner just can't help himself. What a dick.

Weiner is a 51-year-old man with the disposition of a 12-year-old know-it-all, and this documentary about him has more than a whiff of Shakespearean tragedy as it chronicles his attempt to bounce back from his 2011 sexting scandal to run for mayor of New York City in 2013, with his fierce, proud wife, Huma Abedin stalwart by his side. Filmmakers Josh Kriegman and Elyse Steinberg craft a compelling character study that is insightful, expertly paced and highly entertaining. It deserves a place alongside other classic New York films.

Weiner achieved cultural notoriety when, as a fiery progressive congressman from Brooklyn, he got caught sending pictures of his junk to women who were not his wife. Slow to fess up, he torpedoed his career and resigned, destined to be a punchline, with jokes that wrote themselves. Until then, he was a progressive firebrand, known for standing up to political foes and TV pundits.

With the hubris of a Clinton, Weiner could wait barely two years before launching his comeback, in a crowded Democratic primary field with no clear frontrunner. Weiner actually topped a few polls early on, and the filmmakers dutifully lace the first half of the documentary with a strong sense of foreboding.

Weiner is an appealing figure. An early YouTube clip captures a full-bore rant on the floor of the House -- in which he shouts down Republican colleagues -- that would make Bernie Sanders supporters salute with a raised fist. His political heart is in the right place, and his political radar is spot-on. Elected as a City Councilman at 27, he has a connection with voters in the city's neighborhoods that feels authentic.

But then the other shoe drops. Having assured his wife, staffers and voters that the scandal was behind him, new revelations explode, exposing him as a liar for promising that he had cleaned up his act in 2011. Abedin, a moving force behind this attempted comeback, stands at his side during a painful new conference, but soon can't hide her disdain for her husband's childish, boorish behavior, and she gradually extricates herself from the campaign.

The implosion of the campaign -- illustrated by the faces of the disillusioned young staffers -- is a classic trainwreck, and it's hard to look away. A damage-control staff meeting becomes surreal, as Weiner and Abedin's toddler son (in utero during Phase 1 of the scandal two years earlier) disrupts the conversation with some bratty antics -- a chip off the old block, maybe.

Just when you think Weiner has learned a lesson or figured out how to modify his behavior, he shoots himself in the foot. He picks a fight with an observant Jew in a deli, acting like a petulant child when called out on his immoral behavior. (It turns out that the detractor goaded Weiner with a low-blow reference to his "Arab" wife.)

Abedin is also a fascinating subject here. Aside from her impeccable taste in dresses, she runs hot and cold when it comes to her husband, the campaign, the media and politics in general. She can be both girlishly charming and cunning as a strategist. She comes off as human and rational, washing her hands of the fiasco by the end. In one scene, we watch a hard-headed Weiner tank an interview with MSNBC, and it's clear that his defiance is hollow and egotistical, far removed from the impassioned championing of the people from his days in Congress. The next day, Weiner watches the regretful interview on his laptop, proud of his performance, and Abedin can only shake her head and leave the room.

Such intimate, revelatory moments are gold to a documentary filmmaker, and Kriegman and Steinberg don't fumble the opportunity. They know when to push, when to pull back, when to just let the camera run.

In another scene, Weiner wolfs down a lunch while riding in the backseat of a car, and we hear a question coming from off-camera, suggesting that Weiner doesn't like to talk about his feelings and emotions. Rather than contemplate the question or simply open up a little, Weiner reacts instinctively -- he attacks. Isn't the whole idea of "fly on the wall" filmmaking, he wonders aloud, that the fly should be silent and just observe? As usual, Weiner makes a valid point, but he comes off as petulant and mean-spirited.

Luckily, the filmmakers kept the cameras rolling. They knew what they had. They knew this story would write itself. They might be the only people who can say that Anthony Weiner didn't let them down.

BONUS TRACK
This classic '70s track plays early in the film, Kiss member Ace Frehley's "New York Groove":