Oliver Stone has cultivated a reputation as the bruiser of modern cinema.

He highlighted the moral complexities of Vietnam (Platoon, Born On The Fourth Of July, Heaven & Earth), savaged his fellow Americans’s relentless pursuit of wealth (Wall Street), satirised the glamorisation of violence (Natural Born Killers) and remembered one of the United States’s darkest days (World Trade Center).

Stone has focused in part on the influence of the political establishment with memorable portraits of John F Kennedy and Richard Nixon.

Now, as George W Bush prepares to bid farewell to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, the film-maker offers his most intriguing feature yet.

W sketches his rise to power from the mid-1960s to the present day, beginning at Yale where the young George (Brolin) endures the humiliation of the fraternity house initiation.

He vociferously rejects one frat member’s suggestion that he follow in his father’s footsteps — “Hell no!” — and channels his efforts instead into boozing, invariably ending up drunk in jail.

His despairing father George Sr (Cromwell) pulls strings to keep his son’s name out of the papers.

However, George continues to disappoint until he meets his wife Laura (Banks) and unexpectedly gains his first foothold on the ladder of success as Governor of his home state of Texas.

Sweeping to power in controversial fashion, Bush becomes the 42nd US President and faces some of his country’s darkest days, including the September 11 attacks. Political allies on both sides of the Atlantic, including Colin Powell (Wright), Dick Cheney (Dreyfuss), Condoleezza Rice (Newton), Donald Rumsfeld (Glenn) and British Prime Minister Tony Blair (Gruffudd), guide him as he takes the decision to invade Iraq.

Timed neatly to coincide with the battle for the White House, W is a surprisingly affectionate portrait of a man who changed the course of world events, not necessarily for the better.

There’s very little here that lives up to Stone’s reputation as the agent provocateur of contemporary American cinema.

The claws are retracted in Stanley Weiser’s screenplay, focusing largely on George’s desire to escape from his father’s shadow.

“What are you good for? Partying, getting drunk, chasing tail?” rages Bush Sr after his wayward scion brings yet more shame on the family name. “Who do you think you are, a Kennedy? You’re a Bush!”

Performances are strong across the board, even in the smallest roles, including Brolin’s sympathetic portrayal of the reluctant leader and Newton’s incredibly mannered portrayal of the sole woman in a man’s world.

Humour derives from Bush’s many verbal slip-ups.

“We got this Guantanamera open,” says the President.

“Guanatanamo,” someone corrects him.

Ultimately, W tells us very little about its subject that we don’t already know, glossing over some of his darkest hours, including the drinking.