As I write this, in late 2010, lobbyist Jack Abramoff is a stale topic. About 
  the only thing I remembered about him before watching this movie is that he 
  wore a scary gangster-style fedora, and that there was a time when anyone who 
  had ever been in contact with Abramoff had done his or her best to eradicate 
  all traces of the relationship, however insignificant it might have been. 
  Photos were burned, hard drives were re-formatted, e-mails were deleted, and 
  phone messages were erased. When the Abramoff news started to break, everybody 
  touched by the scandal seemed to realize that Jack had gone over the top with 
  sleaze, even by the standards of a sleazy profession, and that it had been a 
  mistake to associate with him, especially given the feeding frenzy then 
  current in the media.  
     
  
  Those were simply my preconceived impressions and perceptions, but in 
  researching the background behind this film, I've discovered that my 
  simplistic top-line take on it was not too far from the truth. Jack Abramoff 
  provided many people with cash and privileges, and almost all of them knew 
  that the checks came with strings attached, even when there was nothing 
  explicitly illegal about the transaction, because the boldest lobbyists always 
  operate on the grey fringes of legality, out beyond the safe areas where 
  society's laws and morals are in complete confluence. Whenever a policymaker 
  accepted a campaign contribution from an Abramoff client, that lawmaker knew 
  that he had been compromised in some way, even if he did not quite understand 
  what might eventually be expected of him in return. That's how our lobbying 
  system works in America. It is the watered-down American equivalent of the 
  institutionalized corruption that plagues Eastern Europe, Latin America, and 
  elsewhere. It's an oblique form of bribery, in that there is generally no 
  stated tit-for-tat, but a set of unspoken assumptions and expectations. It can 
  also be far more pernicious than outright bribery, because bribes, by their 
  nature, come with a certain accountability. The South American lawmaker who 
  fails to deliver on the explicit stipulations attached to a generous gift from 
  the drug cartel will probably find himself paying the price for his duplicity, 
  one way or another. Perhaps his political opponents will have enough power to 
  jail him or remove him from office. He better hope they get to him before the 
  drug lords do.
     
  
  The American system of bribery comes without accountability, assuming that the 
  players are sufficiently cautious. An Indian tribe pays a lobbyist for 
  representation. The lobbyist makes some campaign contributions on the tribe's 
  behalf, delivered with an emotional speech about how the tribe's children 
  could get health care and education if only some nice, clean, honest casinos 
  could be legally operated on Indian land. The tribe gets casinos approved. 
  Everybody is happy, nobody has broken any laws, and nobody owes any taxes. An 
  outright bribe would not be tax-deductible, of course, but paying "legal fees" 
  to the lobbyist's law firm is a legitimate business expense for the tribe, 
  which is a corporation. The lack of accountability comes from the fact that 
  the lawmaker doesn't have to vote for the casinos, and his failure to do so 
  will result in no violence or public accusations. But, of course, he won't be 
  getting any more such opportunities. So (almost) everyone learns to play ball, 
  because nobody wants to kill a goose that lays golden eggs.
     
  
  The whole process is sleazy. It corrupts individuals with irresistible 
  temptations, and it undermines a system of government that should 
  theoretically be the best in the world. You probably consider the whole 
  business immoral as well, depending on your own concept of morality. 
     
  
  It may be unethical, but it's legal, provided that one does not stray from 
  that exact path.
     
  
  Jack Abramoff could have continued to do it that way for the rest of his life, 
  the same way all the other lobbyists do it, and he would have lived an 
  extremely comfortable life without ever facing any jail time or public 
  humiliation. He chose a different route. He wanted to wield true power with 
  truly big money, so he started to play the game in ways that crossed the line. 
     
      
        - He directed some of his clients' money to people who kicked a percentage 
    back to him. 
 
        - When his clients looked for investors, he tried to figure out how he 
    could get a piece of the pie for himself, sometimes a very big piece. 
 
        - He and certain public officials got a bit too public when Abramoff 
    courted their influence, as highlighted by an infamous golfing excursion to 
    Scotland.
 
      
           
  
  This movie tells a few stories about how Abramoff and some of his associates 
  went beyond the limits. The two areas of greatest focus are the kickbacks 
  Abramoff hauled in from his bilking of the Native-American tribes, and his 
  ill-advised attempt to acquire the SunCruz floating casinos
     
  
  If you go into this film expecting some kind of heavy-handed anti-Abramoff 
  hatchet job, you'll be very surprised. Although the film does not whitewash 
  Abramoff, it never fails to show that there was always somebody just as bad, 
  or worse, in the room. Abramoff is shown being horrified by the lengths his 
  business partners would go to make something work in their favor. He is shown 
  as the more responsible and moral partner in his dealings with Michael 
  Scanlon, who helped him bilk the Indians. He is also shown as the more 
  sensible and moral partner in his dealings with Adam Kidan, his associate in 
  the attempted SunCruz acquisition. Abramoff is also shown as a good family 
  man, a spiritual man who acknowledges his failings, and a man who tried to do 
  good things with his money, even if he always seemed to spoil his good 
  intentions with a massive ego and a faulty moral compass. Kevin Spacey doesn't 
  make Abramoff likeable, but he does make him completely human. The Abramoff of 
  this film is a lot like most of us, except that he plays for much higher 
  stakes.
     
  
  The film is also a lot more amusing than you would probably expect. The film's 
  creators have decided to deal with co-conspirators Michael Scanlon and Adam 
  Kidan, as well as lawmakers Tom Delay and Bob Ney, by ridiculing them as 
  buffoons. Kidan, for example, is played by Jon Lovitz, and 
  the character is milked for more laughs than you'd expect in a film about the 
  deepest levels of corruption of the American political system. Bagman is not 
  a heavy-handed liberal sermon film, or a film with a great deal of depth. The 
  tone is generally light. It is best characterized as a sweeping entertainment 
  picture about a gang that couldn't shoot straight.
     
  
  Is it factually accurate? Kinda. You should not assume that this movie is a 
  documentary or a historical recreation. The opening credits say that it is 
  "based on real events." If you speak fluent studio, you know that phrase means 
  the authors felt free to embellish the truth. The script does not try to stay factual down to the last detail, 
  and the conversations are mostly imagined by the authors, based upon the known 
  facts and the personalities of the characters. On the other hand, I caught up on all the Abramoff cases before 
  writing this article, and it seems to me that the film portrays all 
  the situations reasonably. Where the truth has been embellished, it has not 
  been done to push a point of view, but to tell a good story.