Directed by: Alex Gibney
Starring: Eliot Spitzer, Kim Allen and Wrenn Schmidt
Rating: R

Eliot Spitzer with his wife Silda. (Courtesy phto0

When Eliot Spitzer resigned in 2008 over a prostitution scandal, the entire country started prying into his personal life. One of the prostitutes he'd visited, Ashley Dupre, came out to claim her part in the spectacle. Spitzer's nickname among the prostitution ring he patronized was revealed—"Client 9."

That Client 9 takes its name from Spitzer's prostitution code name is a testament to the public recognition of the former New York governor as nothing but a sex addict. But this documentary, written and directed by Alex Gibney (Enron: The Smartest Guys in the Room, Taxi to the Dark Side), tries to soften the blows Spitzer has taken because of his actions, while also trying to giving an extensive (and more or less balanced) look at the politics involved.

The movie takes place in two worlds—the New York Capitol and The Emperor's Club, the high-end prostitution business that Spitzer began frequenting in 2006. The two settings are polar opposites, at first. In the political arena, Spitzer is a bulldog, a relentless attacker fighting the moguls of Wall Street to keep things clean. His enemies are looking to get at him, but he's squeaky clean, of course. He comes after the head of the New York Stock Exchange, the CEO of AIG, and the CEO of Home Depot, among others. These are no easy targets, though—men worth billions of dollars didn't get that way from being submissive, after all. Besides enemies in the business world, Spitzer has his fair share of political rivals, mostly Republicans who want him canned.

And after dark, there is the luxurious haven of The Emperor's Club. Run by charismatic young people, it provides the upper crust with upper-echelon "companionship." Obviously, the entire operation exists over shady phone calls, anonymous hotel rooms, and pseudonyms—Spitzer's name of choice is George Fox. The woman he sees the most is not actually Dupre (although she's more than willing to have her 15 minutes), but rather a woman who refuses to show her face or let her voice be heard on camera, so an actress plays her under the name "Angelina."

Eventually, the two worlds collide. Soon the politics are conducted over shady phone calls and the world of The Emperor's Club begins to suffer from leaks to the FBI. And the man at the center of it all, Eliot Spitzer, has no choice but to put his tail between his legs, tell the truth, and stand down.

Gibney's walk-through of Spitzer's entire political career plays out like a Greek drama. Up until his fall from grace, he is portrayed as Heaven-sent, even implied to be a shoo-in for president someday. The movie can feel like sympathic propaganda at times, especially when Gibney edits interviews with CEOs together into montages of stereotypical Mr. Billionaires money-grubbing. But the fascinating part of the story isn't the list of facts about who said what, when. It's Spitzer's own retrospection, his look back on a life of public service that ended abruptly and shamefully.

Gibney's interviews with Spitzer are the most personal and most revealing moments of the movie. The movie's chic design gives it a certain flair, making it an exceptional display of visuals, but the simple close-up of Spitzer in what appears to be his living room gives the movie's most interesting parts an almost conversational quality. Eliot Spitzer is talking to us directly, and he wants us to know, first and foremost, that he blames no one except himself. As he tells us all the important life lessons the ordeal has taught him, we can't help but admire that he at least has the honesty to admit his own blame.

Client 9 doesn't explicitly support Spitzer, but it's certainly not against him. The movie closes out with him walking the streets of New York City: Eliot Spitzer waves to a friend off-camera; Eliot Spitzer walks tall among his fellow citizens, unrecognized and proud of it. It has the feel of a campaign ad, but we know he's not going back to that world. It's the sort of heroic final shot that makes you think he's going to get his own TV show or something.

Danny Eisenberg is a 2010 graduate of the Bromfield School and is currently a student at the University of Pennsylvania.