Somebody Named Brando

Somebody is the name of another book about Marlon Brando, a title taken from his famous “I could have been a contender…a somebody” speech in the backseat of the taxi in “On the Waterfront.” The author is Stefan Kanfer who has written several books on theater and film. The best know is a biography on Groucho Marx. The publisher thinks it is “the final word” about Brando’s “dazzling highs and such abysmal lows.” That’s quite a claim, and after reading the book, although I did learn a few new things, mostly about lovers not yet outed, male as well as female, there were not that many new insights. But there were some amusing tidbits along the way, like, for example, when he was filling out papers for his draft card on the line marked COLOR he wrote: Seasonal—oyster white and beige. He was well known for cracking wise. Like for example in “The Wild One,” when Mary Murphy says to him, “Johnny what are you rebelling against?” he answers: “Whaddya got?”

His story begins, like it does with all of us, with the parents, with Dodie his alcoholic mother, and Marlon Senior, his traveling salesman father, a drinker, brawler, and philanderer, who put down Marlon Junior every chance he got. It was a dysfunctional family and Marlon never achieved the closeness or approval he sought and needed from his parents, with his two older sisters providing that instead of the mother and father. His name as a kid was Bud, a name that separated him from the father; perhaps it was even a kind of neutral, non-specific identity, as Marlon was for the exclusive possession and use of the bully father. His mother was a sometime actress in local theater in Omaha, Nebraska, but basically she existed in an alcoholic haze, to dull the pain of a bad marriage. Brando Senior, when he did come home, beat his wife and never had anything good to say about Marlon Junior. He kept dumping on him with harmful crap like “You’ll never amount to anything but a bum.” Coming from a father he rarely saw, such comments had to cut deep. His parents did not create for him what some psychologists call “a precious deposit,” a core element of love and self-esteem, something internal and substantial for him to build on, so that he had something positive to work with in order to be a balanced personality that could roll with the punches that life was bound throw his way, while striving toward worthwhile goals. But shinning through that knot of parental abuse and neglect was the innate transcendent talent that quickly became evident when he went to New York City as a young man. He arrived on the scene there looking like God’s gift to women, and Kanfer wrote, “He was like catnip to dozens of women,” and he did his best to have sex with as many of them as possible. Meanwhile, he was a sensation in a bad play called “Truckline Café,” and from that he went to “Streetcar Named Desire,” by Tennessee Williams, playing the brute, Stanley Kowalski, with his thrilling performance causing volcanic reactions among the theater crowd; that in turn led to a movie of the play that established his reputation once and for all. He repeated the role in his second movie in Hollywood, with Elia Kazan once again the director.

Stella Adler had been his teacher when he arrived in New York. She was a passionate advocate of what came to be called “Method Acting.” His mastery of this mode of acting made him into the role model of his generation. It was a method of internalizing character, becoming the character, and then emoting from that inner center, out of your own inner resources. He followed “Streetcar Named Desire” with another powerful role, as ex-boxer and longshoreman Terry Malloy in “On the Waterfront,” a story of corruption and the lone individual standing up to it. It was his fifth movie and it was another electrifying performance that set the world on fire. He won an Academy Award as Best Actor. No other performer had gone from stage to screen with such dramatic results in such a short period of time. Paul Newman, Al Pacino, Jimmy Dean, and Robert DiNero, all looked to Marlon Brando for guidance and example. They measured themselves against his innovation and brilliance.

But from 1955 to 1970 the quality of the movies dipped a bit and his attitude about acting dipped as well. A few were interesting (“Reflections in a Golden Eye,” “The Fugitive Kind,” “Mutiny on the Bounty”) but fell short of the dynamism and coherence of two early masterpieces. Some others were stinkers (“Bedtime Story,” “The Countess from Hong Kong,” and “The Night of the Following Day.”) Some were not worthy of his talent, and as a consequence there was an erosion of his interest in the craft of acting. He began to echo his father’s attitude, disparaging the profession as not a serious endeavor. He got involved with civil rights and Native American issues, while his love life became more complicated, as he married a couple of times, both times to exotic women while still bedding as many women as he could. Children began arriving and he ended up with 9 at home in the L.A. Hills.

But then in the early seventies along came the role of Don Corleone, the Godfather, a character created by a novelist but brought to vivid life by Brando in cahoots with Francis Ford Coppola in a film to rival Orson Welles’ “Citizen Kane,” the picture that before “The Godfather” always claimed the top spot as the best all-time American film. Brando’s extraordinary performance has contributed greatly to the film’s reputation. Talent and character came together as if it was destiny. In the opening scene Brando on a whim picked up a cat on the set and sat tenderly playing with it, in a spontaneous and off-hand manner, while conducting business as crime boss. Fondling the cat was not in the script, but it made a small miracle out of the scene. I can also recall that scene where he crinkles his forehead in crushing grief as he stands over Sonny’s dead body. That went beyond mere technique to feel with that depth. There were other innovations and ad-libs that Coppola had no trouble including. After the film’s great success he was back on top and could from that point on charge outlandish amounts of money for his services.

(Dear Reader: I have just decided to write this review of Somebody in two parts, something I have done twice before. But before I stop this first part I must include a personal note. I was a senior in high school when “The Wild One” was released and several buddies and I were so impressed with Brando’s rebellious image and performance in the movie we came to school dressed in leather jackets or with white t-shirts with BLACK REBEL MOTORCYCLE CLUB written on the back, which was the name of the biker gang that Johnny (Brando) led. The school I was attending, a strict catholic institution, booted us all out of school for a week. But it was era even more conservative than today, and rebellion was in the air, at least for a certain kind of student.)

Cross Mandala

The Visitor and The Lazarus Project

Years ago there was a movie named “Marty” that turned an actor who had always played the heavy into an Oscar winner. That would be Ernest Borgnine and the year was 1955. Marty was Joe Blow, an unattractive butcher from Brooklyn living with his mother with no prospects of an interesting life, still less for a good marriage. Borgnine made the ugly butcher a character to be remembered; it was the star performance of his long career. I thought of “Marty” when I saw “The Visitor,” which similarly seems to be elevating another character actor, Richard Jenkins, to a new level of performance, indeed, several film critics have put him on their list for a Best Actor Award. I was familiar with Jenkins largely through HBO’s series “Six Feet Under,” in which he played the father of the oddball family that ran a California Funeral Home, although I know I have seen him in a slew of movies as a secondary character. “The Visitor” is sleeper of a movie, and so is Jenkins performance as a widowed professor, Walter Vale, who has lost his zest for life. Who knew Jenkins had it in him? I suspect the writer and director, Thomas McCarthy deserves a lot of credit for, first of all, having the confidence in him as an actor, and secondly, he probably helped coax him along as director. Walter is a man who has lost his way and goes through the motions of his academic career at a Connecticut college, but his heart and soul are no longer in it. Clinically speaking, you’d say he was depressed. But them he meets some squatters who have been living in an apartment he maintains in New York City. It is man named Tarek from Syria, a musician, and his girl friend, Zainab from Senegal. They are both illegal aliens and have limited options, so, feeling sorry for their plight, he lets them stay in his apartment. They become friends and then Tarek, as a gesture of appreciation, teaches the professor to play the African drums, which he eventually becomes proficient at, good enough to play with street musicians in the Central Park. But then there is trouble with Immigration authorities, with the Syrian being arrested. The multicultural context increases when the Tarek’s mother arrives from Detroit and she stays with the professor. They become close and have a quite touching relationship. In any event, the three foreigners help the stifled professor crawl out of his withered state, and his transformation into an active and expressive member of the human race is a joy to watch happen.

“The Lazarus Project” is, so to speak, Dead Man Walking, or maybe not. It stars Paul Walker, from “Fast and Furious” fame, a lean, handsome young man who is Ben Garvey, an ex-con with a family and a good job at a brewery. His criminal past is behind him and things are looking up. But then his employers find out about his past and dismiss him, which encourages him to make another bad decision. His brother shows up and talks him into a sure bet of a robbery, which of course goes haywire, and his brother and a guard are killed. In Texas any participant in a capital crime can be executed, as if they pulled the trigger. We see Ben pin down on a gurney, which is shaped like a cross, receiving the death-dealing chemicals. And like Christ he seems to be reborn, for in the very next scene we see Ben walking down a country road in a rainstorm. He is on his way to a job as groundskeeper at a Psychiatric Hospital in the boonies. A priest driving a old truck picks him up; he turns out to be the man in charge where he is going to work. Ben doesn’t know why he is there and how he got there; and he is tormented by memories of being on the gurney and of his longing for his wife and little girl. Strange things begin to happen. When he tries to leave a ‘Guardian Angel’ shows up to persuade him to stay because “death is looking for you out there.” He has dealings with two inmates and a woman who works there, and he has persistent feelings that he is being watched. Being troubled and confused, the priest tells him his family is dead and he caused their death by smoking in bed, and at the heart of his trauma is guilt. He doesn’t believe it but can’t prove it. The plot is a maze of deception and misdirection; much is never explained. At the center of the plot is a wrongheaded experiment that is one man’s idea of what rehabilitation means. There are gaps in the story and the ending is much too soft, but there is enough mystery to keep you wondering what was going to happen next.

Corruption Crime Spree

OJ Simpson and Governor Rod Blagojevich of Illinois are men of prodigious self-delusion. Their grip on reality really must be question. One wonders if celebrity status has a corrosive effect on people suffering from ego inflation and prone to mental imbalance. Fame can push such people over the edge. Both men are poster boys for the ill effects of narcissism.

OJ, for example: It never seemed to occur to him that breaking into that Vegas hotel room with a couple of guys with guns was an unlawful act, as hard as that is to believe. To him it was simply a matter of “getting my stuff back.” The guns were incidental to the valid purpose of the group action. His overriding focus blurred the importance of the weapons, and this misjudgment would cost him dearly at trial. As for Governor Blagojevich, his stupidity was embedded in narcissism too, with self-centeredness, vanity, and a bravado that ignored the questionable nature of what he was doing, which to him was no more than business as usual in Illinois, where apparently the line between politics and crime can become confused for certain high officials. (Three of the last six Illinois governors have served time in prison.)

Patrick Fitzgerald, the same prosecutor that nailed Scooter Libby a few years ago, brought the basic facts of the case against Blagojevich to the public’s attention Tuesday morning, December 9. The FBI investigation of the Democratic Governor’s activity was years old but intensified 8 weeks ago when the team got the okay from a judge to tap Blagojevich’s phones, and they then decided they had to go public now to prevent him from naming a replacement for Barack Obama’s Senate seat. The reason for that was they had discovered via the phone taps that he had put a For Sale sign on the selection process, as according to Illinois law the Governor was the only official to chose the replacement. On the phone he had called it, “a (bleeping) golden opportunity” to make some big bucks. “I’m sure not giving it away for nothing.” But this was only the glamour crime in his bag of misdeeds. In what Fitzgerald characterized as a “Corruption crime spree” he accused the Governor of shakedowns, kickback, bribes, mail fraud, solicitations and corruption. He tried to strong arm the Tribune Company for writing critical things about him and he withheld $8 million for a children’s hospital until they contributed $50,000 to his campaign. Along the way he even called Obama a “motherfucker,” which I am sure the president elect was glad to hear, as he has distanced himself from the Governor for a number of years. Fitzgerald also made it clear that Obama‘s name never came up during their investigation and his name does not appear in the 76 page Criminal Complaint filed against the Governor. However, the Huffington Post yesterday said that Rahm Emanuel was the Chicago politician who replaced Blagojevich in the House of Representatives when he became the Governor. They also reported it was Emanuel who fingered the Governor, a claim that so far has not been corroborated. Other commentaries through the day Tuesday pointed out that there were bound to be some interconnections between the Obama camp and the Governor’s network over the last decade or so. What they were like remains to be seen. In fact, I suspect what we know about Blagojevich so far is the tip of the iceberg.

NEWS BULLETIN: On Wednesday morning Obama called for Rod Blagojevich to resign.

Automagically in Cash

I watched the Hearings in the Senate and the House last week, with the CEOs of the Detroit Three, the UAW President, and other interested parties.

From the beginning of the automaker’s plea for a loan or bailout from the government, which currently is like a huge tit that multiple parties in this crippled nation wish to suckle for their own financial resuscitation, I have found it hard to be sympathetic to the dilemma of the companies who should have seen the handwriting on the wall ages ago. Their desperation is the consequence of their own dereliction of vision. . Management kept on making big vehicles and gas-guzzlers when their competitors in Europe and Asia were building smaller cars with better fuel-efficiency. Those smaller vehicles are going to be the wave of a more sensible driving future. But the Big Three were reluctant to transform themselves and are now paying the price. They are in the soup and they now want to pull us taxpayers in it with them.

Their management seemed to have forgotten the iron law of Capitalism: That states that failure is part of the dynamic of Capitalism and those that fall by the wayside will be replaced by a better idea. It’s called “Creative Destruction.” But, so the argument goes, we should make an exception in this case. Why? Because the Detroit Automakers are more than just a business; they are “Cultural Icons,” and thus loom large over the Industrial History of the Western World. And according to some, they have plenty of juice and innovation left, if only they can get back on their feet and push the makeover process. In addition, if they were to go under it would throw between 3 to 5 million people out of work, not only UAW workers, but also dealers and suppliers. The domino effect would be devastating. It would cut the heart out of our manufacturing base. It’s a strong argument, especially when you consider the nation’s unemployment figures are approaching 7% and 533,000 people lost their jobs in November. Besides, it looks discriminatory to see Congress quickly come to the aid of Wall Street and the its financial crisis, while short-changing a blue-collar industry in Michigan where the unemployment rate is above 10% already. Main Street needs help every bit as much as Wall Street—perhaps more because resources would be lesser and fewer.

In sum, since Bush and Paulson are busy sitting on their hands till they leave town, I am persuaded Congress or the Fed will have to do something, as the above facts are too scary to ignore. I would be in favor of a “bridge loan,” adding $10 or $15 billion to the $25 billion already allocated for the makeover. That would take them to March, at which time the Obama’s Brain Trust will have gotten their bearings in the new government and should be ready to tackle the problem. We just have to cross our fingers that we can make it through 40+ days without a total collapse.

Australia: Walkabout in Dream Time

While you watch “Australia” it is easy to be swept up in its movie magic: The action and energy of the film, the travelogue aspect of the Outback scenery, in the romantic relationships, the mysticism of the Aborigine culture, and the sheer forward momentum of the narrative. But then you drive home and your critical faculties come into play. After dinner you have a different view of the film. You end up thinking, I was wowed by it in the theater, but I feel underwhelmed now. On second thought, there are holes galore in “Australia” when you take a hard look at it; and a lot of borrowings from other films.

First of all, the film starts out as if was going to be a Romantic Comedy dressed as an offbeat Western. Nicole Kidman is Lady Sarah Ashley, a prim, aristocratic British woman who is a caricature of her class. She’s brittle, uppity, herky-jerky in movement, and there’s a comic twang to her accent. Her husband, for some damn reason, has gone to Australia to make a fortune raising beef for the Army. It is 1939 and everyone has some sense that a war is coming. But some local cattle baron named King Carney (Bryan Brown) wants to buy him out for a fraction of what the ranch and cattle are worth, so she decides to fly down under to see if she can settle matters more equitably. When she arrives she’s met by a ruffian named Drover (Hugh Jackman) who is fighting some local blokes, all in fun actually, like John Wayne used to do it. This broad tone is maintained as he drives her to the ranch named “Faraway Downs.” They banter back and forth like Humphrey Bogart and Katherine Hepburn in the early part of “The African Queen.” They say they don’t like each other, but we know better. It’s The Incredible Hunk vs. Lady Chatterley. There are a number of ostentatious displays of Jackman’s massive torso, as much for the enjoyment of the audience as for Lady C.

But the light-hearted tone disappears when they reach the ranch, for her husband has been killed and the foreman, who is an agent of King Carney’s, blames an Abo named King George (David Gupilli) who hangs around the ranch because his grandson lives there with his Abo mother. His name is Nallah (Brandon Walters) and he is biracial. (Later we learn the foreman is his father and the killer of Lady Ashley’s husband.) There is a racial element throughout the story involving how the whites feel about the Aborigines. Suddenly, we are in the middle of a serious drama. And in no time at all Kidman drops the playful accent and the silly mannerism she had when she arrived in Australia. She becomes just plain Sarah. She decides to battle King Carney and hires Drover to play John Wayne again, this time the driver of 1500 cattle across god-forsaken country to Darwin, where they can sell the herd to the Army. I thought of both “Red River” and “Lawrence of Arabia” in this longish section of the film. There is a set-piece stampede that is exciting to see and the boy, Nallah, shows some of his magic, which he has inherited from his grandfather. The cattle drive is fraught with incredible difficulties, like crossing a stretch of desert that rivals “God’s anvil” in “Lawrence of Arabia.” One night the Hunk and The Lady find themselves kissing, but it generates little heat. When they make it to Darwin Drover takes the joyous Sarah into a bar for a drink, and just like the scene at the end of “Out of Africa,” this male domain lets her have one because she has proved her mettle on the drive to Darwin. They eventually make love too, which is when we find out this is really a family film. They grope each other in the semi-dark, but it’s a lollipop of a sex scene. The two may be good friends in real life, and have been for years, but they displayed little chemistry in bed. Or perhaps the best part of the scene was cut because the director wanted to keep the film Disney-like.

The last third of the movie deals with the prelude to a surprise attack by the Japanese and its aftermath for the population of Darwin. The bombing scene looks like it was lifted right out of “Pearl Harbor,” with many CGI effects. All three of the major characters get separated and the melodrama of the three of them getting back together—well, the director, Baz Luhrmann, pulls out all the stops, like he was Cecil B. De Mille making one of his extravaganzas. “Somewhere over the Rainbow” unites them and the three, now a family, go back to Faraway Downs to live happily ever after.

Except for one thing. Nallah has to do a ‘Walkabout’ with his grandfather first, and then he can return home a man. Drover and Sarah understand he needs to do this and do not try to stop him.

Finally, I should tell you the movie is two and a half hours long.

Mumbai Massacre

Ten young men armed with AK 47s and grenades, approaching the city of Mumbai by sea and looking like college backpackers, brought the city to a standstill for three days, when a tableau of death and destruction, mayhem and bloodshed, grabbed the attention of the 19 million Indians who live in Mumbai and the rest of the world through television and phone cameras. That of course was what whoever sent them there were seeking, publicity, to scare the hell out a wide range of people, to let them know that “soft targets” were now not only fair game, but preferred targets. The ten broke into pairs and hit several targets in a close cluster of buildings, sometimes killing randomly, mowing down dozens in a railroad station, and other times trying to round up as many Brits and Americans as they could find. They killed 9 people at a Jewish Center, including an American Rabbi and his wife. In another location they killed 53 people. Two Hotels were hit. The Taj Mahal Hotel, a beautiful ornate structure that was built 105 years ago, became the focus of much gunfire and numerous interior fires; it was where the last two terrorists died. At last count there were 190 people who lost their lives and 350 who were wounded. One terrorist was captured alive, a Pakistani, who was a member of a well-known extremist fringe group in Pakistan. All Indians looked toward Pakistan as the source of the attack.

The Pakistan Government spoke up immediately, saying they had nothing to do with the incident; and in a show of good faith they are sending an official to help with the investigation. On the other hand, it is a well-known fact that the Pakistani Intelligence organization has rogue elements in it that could easily be part of the event in Mumbai. The ten zealots called themselves the Deccan Mujahidin, as if they came from the sub-continent of India. Most observers think it was made up to throw authorities off the scent of the real origins of the group. In any case, outside parties, including our government, are concerned about any rise in tension between the two nuclear nations that hardly trust each other.

This well planned and vicious attack on innocent people was a killing spree that graphically and definitively illustrates that Islamic terrorism is a species of blatant and vile nihilism, and whatever religious or political gloss supporters give to it is a thin veneer over a passion to kill, not only infidels, but whoever by chance gets in their sights. Hindu, Muslim, American, British, Catholic or Jew, whoever, they are all fair game; it doesn’t make any difference to the cold-blooded fanatic. Anyone unlike who they see in a mirror is a valid target. The source of their hate and resentment is, broadly speaking, modernity, the world as it is in the West, which is the preferred model for many other countries, including such adversaries as China. The extremists have no matching program to appeal to other aspiring peoples, just a Faith distorted beyond recognition. There is only scattershot violence and a heaping up of bodies for its own sake. Their brand of Islam has become a soulless snuff act from a group of people who have totally lost their bearings.

Quantum of Solace

“Casino Royale” and the new James Bond, Daniel Craig, warmed up the American public for a sequel oddly titled “Quantum of Solace,” which is never explained, although we find out that Quantum is like SPECTER, a secret organization up to no good. The box office take on the opening weekend, $70 million, reflected the keen interest in the new blond Bond, who is as physically adept as previous Bonds but who is a more serious character, not a dandy or gourmet or outrageous womanizer, and a man with a tragic vein through his inner life. In other words, in this new film Craig seems well on his way to redefining who James Bond is. His character is more psychologically intense, and much more subtle and melancholy, and relentless in everything he does. The death and betrayal of Vesper Lynd (Eve Green) has turned him into a man tormented and driven; and he pursues her killers like a man on a personal mission. He is so bent on his goal he has no time for corny puns, gourmet meals, and fancy drinks (unless they help him sleep) and not much sex, which is very unlike all the other Bonds. He is also more brutal and than normal in this narrative, as a deep inner anger makes him not give a damn. He dispatches several characters almost as if he enjoyed offing them, rather then it being an inevitable part of his job. One scene more than any other typifies what I mean. A carry-over character from the first film, Mathias (Giancarlo Giannini), who accompanies Bond to Bolivia, becomes a shield for Bond in a shoot-out with some cops. And then after a tender death scene, when Mathias tells him to forgive Vesper and himself, he dies in Bond’s arms. So what does he do? He takes the money out of Mathias’ wallet and throws the body in a dumpster. Camille (Olga Kurylenko) is with him and she is shocked by his crude attitude to his friend. “He would not mind,” he answers. Try to picture Sean Connery or Roger Moore doing that.

Camille is one of three women that Bond must deal with in “Quantum of Solace.” She is a fellow traveler interested in revenge; she never becomes a sex object for Bond, more a compatriot on her own mission, which is to kill General Medrano (Joaquin Cosio), a fascist pig who wants to take over the Bolivian government with help from Quantum. Camille wants to kill him because, when she was a little girl, he raped and murdered her mother and sister. She teams up with Bond to accomplish her goal, one more indication that this is a new Bond. They become and eventually part as good friends. He does bed one agent named Strawberry Fields (ho, ho) who is killed by the bad guys and her death is Homage to “Goldfinger.” But the lovemaking is brief and tossed off like it has little significance; there is no dwelling on it like with other Bonds. Finally there is M (Judi Dench), his boss and to an extent a maternal influence in his life. She moves from mistrust to total trust in him. She’s not real happy with his new “Dirty Harry” approach to adversaries, but she knows he will get the job done.

Mathieu Amalric plays Dominic Greene, a fake ecologist out to do in legitimate governments and to swindle countries with predatory environmental schemes. He is one of many Quantum agents doing their dirty work around the globe. Amalric is the actor who was so fine in “The Diving Bell and the Butterfly.” He was not the best villain that I have ever seen, but sufficiently scummy to be repulsive. He’s worse then General Madrano who is a simple brute. He pretends to be a do-gooder.

There is the usual collection of action set-pieces, a car chase, a running chase, shoots outs, buildings blowing up, the whole catalog of mayhem and violence, but not much in the way of gimmicks or techo-magic. Craig handles it all with aplomb. The movie is also a travelogue, as the story wanders from Italy to London to Haiti to Austria and finally to Bolivia. And it is whiz-bang all the way.

As a final observation I would say there has been a process of cross-fertilization between the Bourns series and the last two Bond movies. I think there are some obvious similarities; both in terms of action and how things are filmed. They are both characters operating as solo artists in their trade, as action heroes of tremendous physical prowess, and with racecar driving skills and acute survival instincts. And both have lost a woman they loved. Like Jason Bourne, James Bond is indestructible and too damn tough to be handled by any mere mortal on two legs.

"Bailout to Nowhere."

Tom Friedman writes a biweekly column for the New York Times. On Wednesday Night he was on the Rachel Maddow Show to discuss that day’s column in the paper that was highly critical of the Detroit carmakers for coming again hat in hand to the government asking for additional money so they don’t go under before the first of the year. After having received $25 billion already the Big Three want $150 billion more to be taken out of the $700 billion package designed largely by Henry Paulson. Incidentally, the money in that package, we learned yesterday was detoured to the banks rather than used to buy up the toxic assets that we were told it was originally designed for. Paulson decided to do it that way because those assets were difficult to handle and decipher and would take too long to unscramble. One wonders does anybody know what is going on? Nothing seems to work and the hole we are in keeps getting deeper.

Friedman’s critique of the Big Three is merciless and persuasive, for everyone knows they have been in denial since the oil crisis in the early 1970s. They have failed to convert their factories to smaller more fuel-efficient cars and are now caught in a vise of their own making. They have continued to produce gas-guzzling vehicles that the Industry has taught the American public to want, that they believe they must have to be strong and protected. Well, the chickens have come home to roost, as the carmakers are now paying their dues for their tardiness and delinquency in regard the cars now called for by circumstances that even a fool could see were coming. The trouble is they are paying their dues with OUR money, making the American taxpayer foot the bill for their lack of vision and imagination, and their inept management of their business. Moreover, the Bush Administration is not insisting on transparency or real oversight on these deals with the car companies--or the banks. No one is really sure what the Big Three did with that original money they were given to presumably retool the plants. To the layman it is an outrageous rip-off without dictating terms and having close scrutiny over what was going on. Like AIG they probably handed out bonuses to the company’s hierarchy, in short, it ended up corporate welfare. To hell with saving the industry and the three to five million people who depend on it for a living. Social responsibility seems a foreign concept to these people. Selfishness is the only credo they live by.

Near of his comments Friedman quotes Paul Ingrassia of the Wall Street Journal who used to be bureau chief in Detroit and knows the car business very well. He’s as fed up and disgusted with the carmakers as Friedman. He thinks for them to get direct government aid the shareholders should lose what equity they have left and a government-appointed receiver should call the shots in regard the retooling of the plants, and he or she should be hard-nosed and nonpolitical. It also means tearing up existing contracts with the unions, dealers, and suppliers; some operations will have to be closed and others sold off, and the companies will have to be downsized. And for heaven’s sake, don’t give them a blank check. Make them demonstrate proof of retooling; we don’t want a lot of smoke and mirrors and then end up with more of the same kind of vehicles and business as usual. Look for the renegades and eccentrics with ideas and the will to be inventive and innovative, like conventional designers won’t be.

Getting down to brass tacks in regard a bailout, Senator Chris Dodd of Connecticut, the chairman of the Senate Banking Committee, said on Thursday that there aren’t enough votes in the upcoming lame-duck session next week to pass the legislation, and its problematical that it can be achieved after Obama is sworn in as President, as it appears there just isn’t the Republican votes to do it, plus there are a number of Democrats who are skeptical, as they see it as throwing good money after bad. The Democrats would have to able to reach 60 votes and that doesn’t seem likely at this juncture, although it might change when all races are resolved.

Senator Richard Shelby, a Republican from Alabama, the ranking party member on the Banking Committee, has said he will not support bailout legislation and was quite prepared to let the Auto Industry collapse. “The financial situation facing the Big Three is not a national problem, but their problem.” The Republican Leader in the House, John Boehner of Ohio, was even more explicit. “Spending billions of additional federal dollars with no promises to reform the root causes crippling automaker’s competitiveness around the world is neither fair to taxpayers nor sound fiscal policy.” The Republican leader in the Senate, Mitch McConnell of Kentucky was in favor of the first loan but he has not indicated he would support additional monies for Detroit.

Then today, Friday, David Brooks met the problem head on. His column was called “Bailout to Nowhere.” I recommend it to everyone, as he calls a spade a spade. He is against helping the automakers because it’s contrary to the principles of Capitalism, what he calls “creative destruction,” what deserves to fail should fail, to be replaced by something better. Cars will still get made in this country. To give Detroit more billions of dollars when they have shown no will to change over three decades is to support the notion that some corporations deserve a kind of immortality and become, not healthy and profitable, but part of a system of corporate welfare, which is based on political power not sound economics. Do you remember when it used to be said, “What’s good for General Motors is good for the country.”? Does anyone still believe that? I doubt it. And isn’t it true that if you help the automakers aren’t you opening doors to every other business in trouble, say, Circuit City. If you help one aren’t you inviting everyone to come with a hand out asking for money? To help the carmakers is to encourage corporate stagnation, exactly what we don’t need. “ There is no one who believes the companies are viable without radical change. A federal cash infusion will not infuse wisdom into management. It will not reduce labor costs. It will not attract talented new employees…. In short, the bailout will not solve anything—just postpone things.” He suggests, and I would certainly go along with this idea, that some of that proposed bailout money be used to help the workers who would be displaced by the transition away from the old way of doing things. No one is saying this can be easy, but we all can get through it, if the government does the right thing and puts money where it needs to be.

Just remember Obama’s slogan, YES WE CAN.

Two Kinds of Conservatives

Okay, now that Barack Obama is the President Elect and is busy doing things out of sight of cameras, the Republicans are having a crisis of identity now that they have been toppled from power. Since John McCain more or less opted out on Tuesday night on the Jay Leno Show, by saying he was going back to the Senate and it was up to a younger generation to worry about the next election. So there are two questions for the party:: Who are we, and who shall be the new leader?

Bill Kristol and David Brooks both work for the New York Times as the paper’s representative conservatives and both commented this week about the post-election situation. Kristol sees no need for any kind of ideological realignment, where Brooks does.

As far as Kristol is concerned, Obama’s victory is not a landslide and there is a good chance the G.O.P. could make a comeback in two years, like the Party did in 1994. He sees the vote for Obama as really a vote against Bush, a gesture toward his failed administration. That doesn’t quite explain a poll this week that indicated a belief that President Obama would see to it we are better off 4 years from now. 78% said they felt that way. That sounds unquestionably pro-Obama. Despite the dawning of a newly generated Liberal Era, Kristol thinks we remain a center-right country. President Obama would have to stumble in a major way for 1994 to be repeated. I don’t think it’ll happen.

David Brooks sees things differently. I dare say more realistically. In his estimation Obama has the Gravitas, discipline, and requisite skills to stay in office 8 years. Neither does he buy the notion of an anti-Bush vote. Rather he thinks it was inevitably a Democratic year with Bush-Cheney-Rumsfeld-Paulson on everyone’s shit list, which signaled it was time to try the other Party. As for McCain, he lost because he was too moderate for the base, too old, too erratic, and too out of touch with most Americans and the Digital Age. In fact, moderates were one casualty of this election; they have all but disappeared, especially from the Northeast. Brooks once called himself a “progressive conservative,” which is like having the best of both worlds. He argues there are two varieties of Republicans: The Traditionalists and the Reformers. The Traditionalists were led by Rush Limbaugh and Sean Hannity, the dynamic duo of Mediadom, who believe the R-Party should stick to core principles, that is, cut government, cut taxes, restrict immigration, pro-guns, anti-choice, anti-intellectual, anti-Liberal; and they should rally around Sarah Palin and push the idea that we are still a Christian nation. They are, to say the least, hard-core, and there is no compromise with the evil Liberals, who, according to the likes of Ann Coulter, make their bed with snakes and cockroaches. There is a legion of these types on talk radio that keep something on the order of 20 million zealous listeners agitated and in line. They take a dim view of people who don’t think like they do. They are, for example, very glad the moderates have been purged from the Party.

Posed against these angry traditionalists are the pale-faced Reformers. (There are no African Americans in evidence in either group.) They are a camp largely made up of center-right intellectuals who lack the institutional support the Traditionalists enjoy (Think Tanks, Talk Radio, FOX NEWS, lobbyists, publicists, the Religious Right, the base.) Brooks counts himself with the Reformers. The Reformers think the Far Right’s priorities are out of touch with the vast majority of Americans, especially those who live in the larger cities on the West and East coasts, all the way down to Virginia, North Carolina, and even Florida, plus the upper Midwest and the Northeast. The Red States are in the South, the plains, the Mountain West, and part of the Southwest, with the exception of New Mexico and Colorado, which went for Obama this time around. Actually, Obama made inroads in several Red States, which may come in handy two years from now. The populations of the Red States still cling to the land, to church and the Rotary Club, to old time values, including rugged individualism. The Blue States combine a more secular approach and a polyglot spirituality, and more strikingly urban culture, with all its attendant pleasures and problems.

Brooks has a sociological perspective as thinker and writer. When he mentions religion, it belongs to someone else not him. He tends to see society as a collective entity influenced by the environment and human interaction. Rugged individualism is a myth that has had its day. His view is secular, pragmatic, and tinged with Behaviorism. He disagrees with Limbaugh and the rest of them about slashing government; their view is unsupportable, as governance has social relevance and responsibilities. (Just think of the taxpayer money given to Banks and the Auto Industry, and the partial nationalization of both.) He also thinks the R-party must address the growing inequality in our society and the Middle Class anxiety about our reeling economy. Nor should the Party cater so categorically to the rich, which is other side the equality coin. They must also make an appeal to the Hispanics, the Independents, and the younger voters, or Republicans won’t be voted in as Dog Catcher. Reformers see compromise as the essence of Democracy and how to get something done.

In my estimation, David Brooks’ analysis of the Party’s dilemma makes much more sense than the ranting opinions of the Zealots of the Far Right. For example, Limbaugh is already blaming the recession on Obama when he not even in office yet. The man foams at the mouth as a substitute for thinking.

Letter to a Friend: The Election

Dear Pete,

I told you that the American people would not put another Republican in the White House for a third term in a row. The odds were against it, especially following the gross incompetence and lack of truthfulness of the Bush Administration. Like it has happened many times before, it was time to give the other Party a chance.

Actually, I am still riding the tsunami of euphoria, which is still makng it’s way around the globe. However, I am sober enough to consider doing a post-mortem of the two campaigns, to draw a profile of why Obama proved the skeptics wrong and the polls correct. The profile of the McCain campaign should address the question, why did the tact he took fall so flat with millions of voters?

Firstly, how did Obama do it?

Timing. Obama knew that it was unlikely that the voters would return a Republican to office in 2008. They would not be in the mood to trust more Republicans on the heels of a failed administration, and John McCain had admitted he voted with Bush 90% of the time. That’s probably why he entered the race in the first place. There was a confluence of factors that encouraged Obama’s kind of candidacy. He also aligned with the Zeitgeist. In contrast, McCain had no clue, rooted as he was in his Vietnam past, the military history of his family, and his personal wealth and Life Style. Obama understood the Spirit of the Times, the hunger for a sea change in Government; the people were tired of the same old thing and partisan bickering which seemed endless and fruitless. McCain picked up on the theme of change but he never found a central, consistent, and believable argument to sell his version of change. It sounded like the retread it was.

Money. Unlike the last few elections, when the Republicans were the fat cats, this time the shoe was on the other foot, as Obama discovered that the Internet could provide the Golden Egg, to the tune of $640 million for his campaign. It made quite a difference in two critical areas, the number of paid people on the ground and the number of TV ads. It gave him an enormous advantage.

Broad Attack. The campaign sent ground troops everywhere, not just to certain important states. It paid off because he won 7 red states and made inroads into others.

Caucuses. It was an early tactic for the primaries that really worked against

Hillary Clinton. She concentrated on the big states but came up short. Many

Pundits thought Obama would have difficulty winning Pennsylvania, Ohio, and

Florida in the general election, but he won all three, plus Florida, North Carolina and Virginia, states also thought to be problematic.

Independents. This group of voters was supposed to be a gold mine for McCain but Obama ended up winning 52% of them, compared to 44% for McCain.

Other factors:

Obama won 66% of the under 30 vote. In 2000 Gore won 40+ percent of the vote. Kerry in 2004 won 54%. The young not only turned out for rallies, they turned out to vote and were a critical segment. They also look promising for the future vote.

Hispanic vote: It was 67% for Obama.

African American vote: 96% for Obama.

Educated Whites: 47%. Total white vote for Obama was 43%. McCain got 55%.

Negative factors for McCain:

Sarah Palin. Katy Couric and Tina Fey, who simply held a mirror up to her, did her in She was a very poor choice for VP. And it reflected poorly on McCain’s judgment. She was called inept and unqualified by a dozen conservative intellectuals. The McCain people are bashing her now, turning her into a scapegoat. However, the base still loves her. It’s anybody’s guess if she has a future with the G.O.P.

Negative Ads. They did not have the impact they did in previous elections. The voting population was sick of them.

Erratic Campaign. McCain and others were changing the campaign’s focus every other day. In vivid contrast, the Obama campaign was a model of consistency and discipline. From the top down they were tightly disciplined and on the same page.

The Election Left The R-Party In A Bad Way. Only the far right of the Republican Party seems in tact. They refuse to understand their defeat as a repudiation of conservative philosophy, you know, limited government, no taxes, self-reliance, pro-gun, free trade, this is a Christian country, etc.etc. If they keep that up they’ll never win another election. Most of the remnant needs an anger management class.

Moderate Republicans. They peeled off or got beat. They are a vanishing species, or, pseudo-Democrats.

Mission Accomplished

It is Thursday night, two days after the election of Barack Obama, which still has my feet off the floor. This is my first attempt to write about it, although I have sent some E-mail to friends in various parts of the country and overseas. Actually, it’s plugging into the post-election euphoria that is circling the globe, a high that takes heart in the elevation of the freshman senator from Illinois and the dethroning of W and his neocon cohorts. (As Dave Letterman said last night, “Can Bush leave early?” Oh, that would be nice.) Somehow things seem better today; a pall has been lifted from the land; the sun is peeking through the dark clouds on the horizon. I know what I sense is at best a sense of exciting potential, but it does feel like a new era is dawning. As they say in sports, although one team may be favored to win, you have to play the game.

Sarah Palin is back in cold storage in Alaska, her nine weeks of fame over and done with, maybe for good, or maybe not. The McCain people are bashing her. She’s being accused of meeting people with just a towel on, of not knowing her geography, and god knows what else. I almost feel sorry for her. After all, McCain picked her. That is fact number one. As for McCain, he is in Sedona licking his wounds. No one has heard a peep out of him.

I will always remember that moment when CNN declared that Obama had swept the three west coast states, California, Oregon, and Washington, after he had already won in Pennsylvania and Ohio, which meant he had passed 270 and was in like Flynn—he was the president elect. The impossible dream was suddenly a reality! The tens of thousands gathered in Grant Park in Chicago exploded with joy and happiness, and I sat in my chair at home pumping my fist in the air like Tiger Woods, with tears streaming down my cheeks, like Jesse Jackson in the crowd in Chicago. What a moment it was, as so much came together in a flash; it was an emotional catharsis the likes of which I have experience only a few times. The first thought I had was, my god, a black man has made it all the way to the White House; this country had finally crossed a threshold the far right could not even imagine. It felt like we had graduated as a nation—and it was about time! Frankly, I never expected to see this in my own lifetime. What a tremendous breakthrough it was; we will never be the same again; the diverse and multicultural America has finally taken root.

Three cheers for Obama!

Three cheers for all of us.

Top Dogs Republicans

What’s a Republican? It appears McCain has made a little headway the last few days; the uptick was widely predicted. His harping on taxes, socialism, class warfare, spread the wealth, and “build from the bottom up,” has had some positive effect for his cause. The Bill Ayers thing and “He’s a secret Muslim” have faded into the background; they were issues that never did work for him, except with the base, who needed red meat. He’s gone back to traditional Republican issues, you know, “He’s going to raise taxes and hurt the small businessman,” like that phony, Joe the Plumber, who’s brazenly capitalizing on his notoriety.

In contrast to the Democrats, the GOP builds from the top down—the trickle down theory, their old stand-by. They are the Party of top dogs, and have little compassion for, say, the bottom fish, which exist in the lower quarter of the social strata. Think back to Bush’s Compassionate Conservatism: How long did that stay on his agenda? It was only a gimmick to lure the Reagan Democrats to vote for him. It disappeared once he felt secure in the Oval Office.

The top dogs of the GOP are the Businessmen of America; they are the role models of virtue and success; they produce the bounty that flows downward and supposedly lifts all boats. The businessman and entrepreneur are the highest and finest fruit of the capitalist system. Howard Roark’s speech to the jury in THE FOUNTAINHEAD spells that ideal out in fine detail. They are the uber-men, the kings of finance, technology and progress. They make everything go. As a group, they constitute the dream team. In addition to being affluent, influential, and successful, they hold firm to tradition—to God, family, apple pie and patriotism. They distrust foreigners or ‘the Other.’ Sarah Palin has said, “They aren’t like us; we are the real Americans.” These days they are virtually all white, too, as the Republican Convention made clear. The key to their philosophy is the supremacy and dominance of the innovative and exemplary individual, the person who rises above the Herd, who makes his mark in an always-evolving upward cycle of progress. Such outstanding servants of free enterprise contribute significantly to that mythic edifice of the Republican imagination, “the shinning city on the hill” that President Reagan liked to celebrate. At a certain level of achievement and reward, the heroes of capitalism are virtually untouchable, almost godlike. Money rains on them like rain drowns the vermin at the bottom of the social ladder..

The Republicans are the Party of property, wealth, and anti-taxes; of tradition and Law and Order; and an ever-expanding Militarism. (Check the career of the journalist Robert Kaplan. He’s gone from the frugal world traveler to the apologist for our Military Might.) They always want to cut spending and deep down they wish it were Medicare and Social Security, those socialist programs initiated by LBJ and FDR. It is usually some form of social program, whatever they think they can get away with at any given time. With a shrug of regret, they say, as Barry Goldwater once said, “The poor will always be with us.” Actually, they would prefer the churches would take on the burden of the poor, as it shouldn’t be the responsibility of the government. Their most ardent ideal is a very limited government; for them that would mean ignoring our numerous social problems, like decaying infrastructure and 47 million Americans without health insurance, and instead vote billions for defense and war-making around the globe. They like to say, as I heard Ken Lay once comment to a young admirer at ENRON, keep at it and someday you too can have your turn at the top. They like to proffer ideals and paradigms that all lead to being a millionaire and a mover and shaker; such a success is held out like a carrot for acolytes interested in fame and fortune.

But from the perspective of the bottom fish, it all boils down to the rich getting richer and the poor, which now includes many of the middle class, getting the short end of the stick. They end up with the bills of the elite who periodically fail through their own mistakes and reckless behavior. That’s when we learn their philosophy all along was “privatize profits and socialize losses.”

Will we never learn?

A Cartoony Election

I printed two political cartoons from the New York Times this morning, cartoons that pretty much reflect where I am at right now. Tony Auth shows a wild pack of people speeding toward a finish line marked Nov. 4. It is a mob reaching out to end their misery, to burn out their obsession with this ever-lasting campaign. The other cartoon was by Ben Sargent. There’s a guy safe and dry inside a building; he carries a picnic basket that is mark AMERICAN VOTING SYSTEM. There is something 19^th century about his costume. (Just for your information, the law to vote on the first Tuesday in November was passed in 1843, when the country was an agrarian society.) In the doorway is another man dressed in rain gear and buffeted by a roaring storm outside. Water splashes in around him. Above him is the word TURNOUT. That man comments to the other, “You-uh-haven’t seen a weather report, I take it…” In short, voting on Tuesday is not going to be a picnic and you don’t need a weatherman to know the flood of people could overwhelm the system.

Auth’s cartoon speaks to the nervous exhaustion and anxiety so many of us feel at this point of the process. We just want to get it all behind us and to move forward to the next hurdles we have to negotiate. Of even greater concern is the possible turnout. If the early voting is any indication, it could be as high as 80%, which I’ll have to see to believe. But if it is that high I suspect there is no way everyone who wants to vote on Tuesday will be able to. Then what happens? People won’t vote because the system is stupid and antiquated? Do we say tough luck, better luck next time? How fair is that?

It appears that the early vote in 32 states took care of 25% to 30% of the vote nationally. It took days; there were long lines and 4 to 6 hours waits in some places.

As an ex-boss of mine was fond of saying, if I were king I’d make these changes…We’d vote over a three day weekend, or even better, over the space of a week, and we’d dump the Electoral College nonsense and make it a simple referendum. And there is nothing wrong with paper ballots with some kind of scanner device. We need to make it as easy as possible rather than a briar patch to crawl through. Personally, my wife and I did mail-in ballots. Took us ten minutes to mark the ballot and put it in an envelope.

The Edge of Heaven

When I saw “Head-On,” (2004) a story of angst, alienation, and sex among Turkish immigrants living in Germany, I was deeply impressed by the wild exuberance of the characters and the conservative ending of the narrative. Fatih Akin, who was born in Germany but is of Turkish heritage, made the film, and is now out with another, “The Edge of Heaven,” (2008) likewise concerned with dispossession and the conflicted nature of immigrants in the modern world. Despite the violence in the film, it is gentler, very sensitive, and more expansive in terms of character. It is about six characters in search of each other—two mothers, two daughters, and a father and a son—as they criss-cross between Germany and Turkey and back again, finally ending in Turkey, with a scene on a beach by the Black Sea.

The movie opens with Ali (Runcel Kurtiz), a retired elderly Turkish man making a tour of a red light district in Bremen, Germany. He picks out a middle-aged hooker name Yeter (Nusel Kose), also Turkish, and the two hit it off, so Ali makes a number of return visits. In between she is threaten by some Islamic moral guardians who tell her to quit her trade or die. Fortuitously, Ali makes her an offer she can’t refuse: Come live with me and I’ll pay for everything. She says yes, by all means, it is better than death. His only proviso is you must sleep with only me. Ali lives with his son, Nejat (Baki Davarak), a professor of German Literature in Bremen, a quiet, studious young man. At first he is skeptical about his father’s deal with Yeter, but after a heart-to-heart with her he begins to appreciate her. He also finds out she has a 27 year old daughter in Turkey who is a student. But the old man is very jealous and drinks a lot, and he gets it in his head his son has had sex with Yeter, and in a rage he accidentally kills her and ends up in jail. Nejat disowns his father for his brutal act and heads to Turkey to find the daughter to make amends for the father, perhaps by offering her financial aid. But in Istanbul it is like looking for a needle in a haystack.

The girl, named Ayten (Nurgul Yesilcy), is no longer a student but a political activist against a government she considers oppressive. The first time we see her she is running from the secret police after she fires a couple shots from a handgun. They see her as a “terrorist” but she calls herself a “freedom-fighter.” Ironically, she flees Turkey just as Nejat arrives there; she heads to Germany. While on the run she encounters a German student, Lotte Straub (Patrycia Ziolkowska) who helps her and who is taken by Ayten’s beauty and passion. An affair commences which disturbs Lotte mother, Susanne, who is played by none other than the Fassbinder star from the seventies, Hanna Schygulla, now a rotund older woman of 65. The glamour is gone but she still has presence on screen and handles her role with considerable skill. She disapproves of the politics, not the Lesbian thing. Then disaster intervenes as the police stop the two girls and Ayten is incarcerated, as a person without papers. Meanwhile, Nejat has given up his search for Ayten (whose traveling under another name) and given up teaching and bought a small bookstore in order to stay in Turkey. He bought the store from a German who was homesick. When Ayten is shipped back to a prison in Turkey. Lotte follows her and tries to help, with no success. Along the way she happens to stop at Nejat’s bookstore and eventually rents a room from him. (Again we know the connection between them that they don’t know.) Ayten persuades Lotte to find the handgun that she hid and to bring it to her, as she and some others are preparing a prison break; but some street urchins snatch her purse and when she catches up to them one of the boys kills her with the gun. (This section of the film is titled “Lotte’s Death,” so I am not giving anything away.) When Ayten is given the news—Lotte’s death has turned into an international incident—she is crushed and feels an enormous guilt. When we see her mother buying the ticket for Turkey she is standing next to Ali, who is out of prison and going back to the village he was born in. They pass each other like the proverbial ships in the night of unknowingness. One has to wonder how often we all do that. Susanne cries for days when she gets to Istanbul, but finally emerges from her hotel determined to assist Ayten any way she can and to check where Lotte was living. On a whim, she rents Lotte’s old room, becomes friends with Nejat and helps Ayten get out of jail; she also helps resolve Nejat’s ill will toward his father. We see the two women, who had hated each other not long ago, embrace in the bookstore while Nejat is on his way to see his father, to practice a little forgiveness in his relationship with him. But Ali is out fishing but will be back soon, so we see Najet sit down to wait and as he waits the credits run. We never actually see him embrace his father but we believe it will happen.

In “The Edge of Heaven” life, fate, coincidence, forgiveness, and redemption weave their way through the six characters like strands of a puzzle seeking unity and comprehension. There are also a few shifts in time and space to enhance the sense of a background force to foreground events. The layered narrative also hints at a hidden cohesion. However, Akin stops short of connecting all the dots for us, letting the connections stay a tease of potential resolution and unity. For example, we never see Najet’s father show up. I also figured from the start of the movie that Najet and Ayten would get together, but the film ends before that could happen. If we so desire, since we know more than the characters do, we can connect the dots as we see fit. We could close the circle of fate and coincidence. Perhaps that is what Akin had in mind from the beginning. He was happy to make the brew, but we have to read the tea leaves.

The Powell Endorsement

Colin Powell, as the rumor suggested, did endorse Obama on Meet the Press on Sunday. He said he would break with his party because they had gone too far to the right, and despite the fact his old friend of 25 years, John McCain, was the Republican choice for president he had decided that Obama had “style and substance” and would be a “transformational president,” a trait of considerable importance at the current time of crisis. . Secondarily, he had to question McCain’s judgment for picking Sarah Palin as his running mate when it was clear she wasn’t ready to be president. In addition, he mentioned Obama’s ability to inspire, to run an inclusive campaign, and to have exceptional rhetorical skills. One of the things he did in his statement was he separated McCain from the party because it was the party that was really off the track. He zeroed in on the Bill Ayers fiasco and the robocalls that peddled nonsense about the relationship between Ayers and Obama. The ads were trying to link the two men, as if they were partners in crime, fellow terrorists on the prowl on American streets, and such treatment was out of bounds and it should stop. “Mr. McCain called him a washed up terrorist, but then why do we keep hearing about him?” He said it was a “very, very limited relationship,” but somehow that is enough to lethally “taint” Mr. Obama character. He said the charge went “too far” and therefore, was “inappropriate.” He complained about the increasing narrowness of the campaign the party had forced McCain into, arguing the Ayers episode was hardly worthy of the attention they were giving it, while huge economical issues were foremost on the mind of every citizen. Those issues were coming out differently every other day with the McCain campaign, with no controlling central argument. The party was in a sorry state and he was speaking out in the hopes of returning it to a centrist-right position, where it belongs.

Right on the heels of the Powell statement, former National Security Adviser, Zbigniew Brzezniski told the Huffingfton Post that Powell’s endorsement represented a “comprehensive indictment “of the McCain-Palin ticket and by implication, the entire Republican Party. He also said he felt the endorsement would be “a major factor in the race,” which has a little over two weeks to go. That seemed to be the opinion of many commentators throughout the day. He agreed that the McCain-Palin ticket represented a “break” from the traditional Republican Party. He also thought Powell’s endorsement should not be read as strictly “racial solidarity,” as he was more like “an elder statement “ with diverse accomplishments. Lastly, he saw the former Secretary of State as the first member of the Bush Administration to break rank. And it’s about time too. Powell needs to earn back some of the respect he lost by cooperating so extensively with the Bushies, especially that speech he gave about WMDs in Iraq at the UN. Still, I am sure Mr. Obama is thrilled by his endorsement.

Zen-Bama vs. the Macho Military Man

I said in the FORUM not long ago that John McCain was going to lose this election due to his temperament, not issues. After watching the final Television debate, I am all the more convinced of that. McCain came out of his corner ready to lay his opponent flat on his ass. He combined Jack Dempsey with General MacArthur, maintaining as much intensity as he could for 90 minutes, and always on the attack. At moments he was the Big Scold, in others he was a grimacing Warden. In vivid contrast, Obama came out like a calm and self-assured Sugar Ray Robinson, pound for pound the best in his weight and class; he was almost serene as he fought off body blows and was very adept at counter-punching. He never lost his cool while McCain fumed, fussed, and could not hide or mollify his emotions.

From the standpoint of information and spirited exchanges, this was the best debate. But that isn’t what won the debate for Obama. He won because this debate, like the other two, was a clear-cut expose of the Senator McCain’s temperament, that is, his deep-seated anger, his negativity and impatience, which registered on his pliant and helplessly expressive face, his smirky smiles, and his troubled and teeth-clenching certainty. He wanted to change the debate into the FIGHT CLUB, rather typical of a macho military man. Obama, sensing his campaign is well ahead on points decided all he needed to do was avoid a knockout blow and show how steady he could be under fire. Letting McCain blow off every which way was a smart tactic. Let him sink himself.

In the final analysis, it all boils down to this: I think any Republican would have a tough time winning this year; the majority of voters have had enough of them for now; let the other guys try to save the day. They are tired of getting the short end of the stick, weary of this worship of Wealth for the few and Wall Street’s greed and recklessness. The Republican’s credo is business first, workers second; free trade first, human rights second; and men first, women second. If that isn’t evidence of class warfare, I don’t know what is. McCain is still in sync with the Ultra-conservatives who have been in the saddle for 8 long years, with the clique that has taken us all to the edge of financial collapse. Obama is a better bet to back us off from the Abyss.

Cole and Hitch in Appoloosa

Westerns, which aren’t as popular as they once were, come in two basic kinds: Those that attempt to use the form to elevate historical understanding or create mythic figures, to achieve narrative scope and resonance beyond the bare bones of the telling; and those that tell an action story about good guys vs. bad guys, and thereby to entertain or divert attentions from the trials and tribulations of the day.

Two Westerns of the first type would be “Wild Bunch” and “The Assassination of Jesse James By The Coward Robert Ford.” Pike Bishop and his gang got stranded on the saddleback of the history. On one side the 19^th century was slipping away from them, removing the terra firma they had stood on for many years, while on the other side, the 20^th century, with all its motor cars, machine guns, airplanes, petty tyrants, and revolutions, came rushing in and they were forced to deal with a new context, one they did not take to or want to be part of. So they decided to go out in a blaze of gunfire, taking with them the petty tyrant, his men, and the German Officers who pointed to an even more dreadful future. Jesse James illustrates the power of legend over fact. John Ford was fond of saying; if it came to a choice between fact and legend, always choose the legend. He knew that legend had more appeal and more legs than simple fact. Jesse James killed 16 men, but the family made money after he was dead collecting fees from the mass of admires who wanted to stand by his grave for a minute or two. Having an actor like Brad Pitt play Jesse just expanded the heroic dimensions of the outlaw. The role followed his turn as Achilles in “Troy.” His persona seems carved for such roles.

Two Westerns of the second type, to use current examples, would be “3:10 to Yuma” and the newly released “Appoloosa.” They are like resurgent B-movies of decades past, but with characters updated, mostly in evil and nastiness, and with slicker production values. They are movies designed to thrill, entertain and distract. They have, as it were, a lower horizon of intent and meaning. Mind you, they are good as far as they go. I think Ed Harris, the director of “Appoloosa,” understood that from the outset.

I am a sucker for Westerns of either kind. I like the idea of a world apart, participating in time but yet at a remove from time, a world with its own rules of engagement and standards of behavior, which put a premium on individual courage and skill. There were small frontier towns in the 1880s with odd names like Appoloosa or Big Whiskey, with saloons with paintings of naked ladies over the bar, with a few more ladies upstairs to satisfy the customers, with some fine ladies too, and a schoolmarm, who falls for the handsome gunmen. And of course you have the shoot-outs, the stable set piece of Westerns. “Appoloosa” is essentially a buddy movie in Western dress. Virgil Cole (Ed Harris) and Everett Hitch (Viggo Mortensen) have been together for a dozen years. They are almost like a married couple, with Virgil being the leader but Hitch being smarter and always helping Vigil out when he’s stumped on how to pronounce a big word like “sequestered.” There’s good deal of sly, understated humor in their relationship, which is one of the more likeable things about the movie. They have come to this small Western town in New Mexico to do something about Randall Bragg (Jeremy Irons, minus his accent), a culprit who single-handedly shot the Marshall and his two deputies and whose men do whatever they want in Appoloosa with impunity. The gang he’s assembled look like tramps with six-guns; they all need a shave, a bath and clean clothes. The City Fathers have called in Cole and Hitch to rid them of this contagion. The pair dispense with 4 of the gang straight away with a shoot-out in the saloon, which arouses the ire of Bragg. Their authority to kill these men and to go after Bragg comes from a document the City Fathers have signed giving the pair the complete authority of law. That’s how they operate, as independent and freelance gunmen with a license to kill. They spend quite a bit of the movie chasing Bragg, who is a slippery devil, and even Chester Arthur, the President of the United States comes into play, helping him escape their clutches. But he gets his just desserts in the end.

Now there is a lady in this story, Ally French (Renee Zellweger) whose motto is “Love the one your with.” She is somewhere between and whore and a fine lady, as she dresses nicely, plays the piano, and, as Virgil says, “she’s very clean.” She ensnares Virgil, who is a bit green behind the ears when it comes to designing women, and before you know it he’s building a house for the two of them and thinking about settling down. Hitch knows better because the lady has made a play for him too. Later in the film we see her naked in a stream with another gunslinger who supposedly had kidnapped her. Hitch points out this romp to Virgil and it makes him swallow hard. He’s been a fool but he remains taken with her. On the other hand, Ally give an explanation for her loose behavior that I thought was very good, in that it explains the constraints of a single woman in the old West. She says she does what does because she’s alone, she’s afraid, and she has no money and no real way to make any. Does a woman on her own have much choice? That could unhinge many a soul. Perhaps that’s why Virgil cuts her some slack and ends up at her side at the end of the movie.

“Appoloosa” was Harris first film to direct since ‘Pollock.” I liked the character-driven plot and the relationship between Cole and Hitch but some of spaces between action sequences are pretty slow-paced and drag the energy of the film down. I wanted to pump some vitality into those sections. The gunplay is minimal and quick, but then it was often like that in the Old West. After all, the gunfight at the OK Corral was over with in less than a minute. So Harris took his time in between all those flying bullets.

Youth Without Youth

“Francis Ford Coppola has made Eliade whole again.”

Well, you all know who Coppola is, but I suspect for many of you Mircea Eliade won’t ring a bell. He was a well-known scholar of the History of Religion, Mysticism, Myth, Reincarnation, and the Paranormal. In addition to his scholarly work he wrote novels that expressed some of his knowledge in another form. Romanian by birth, with most of his books published in Europe, his final years were spent in the US, at the University of Chicago, where he died in 1986. Coppola read one of his novels, YOUTH WITHOUT YOUTH, published in 1976, and he decided its subject matter, Time, Mysticism, the Paranormal, and the transmigration of souls, would be a great challenge to translate to film, something he hadn’t done for ten years. He took some of the money he made from his successful winery in northern California and decided to make the film in Europe where it would be less expensive to make and would reflect the world and geography of the written story. The quote above comes from an appreciation of the movie by another scholar of the same subject matter, Jeffrey Kipal, who gave it a fairer hearing than most professional film critics, who were pretty baffled by the movie and put it down because they were. It is a difficult and complex movie about tricky subject matter, but it is worth seeing and thinking about.

Here are the basic facts of the narrative. Dominic Matei (Tim Roth) is a 70 year old academic in Romania who is unmarried, lonely, and ready to commit suicide because he has not been able to finish his magnum opus, a book about the origins of language and consciousness, which he has spent his life writing. There was a girl in his past, Laura (Alexandra Maria Lara), who he intended to marry, but she broke it off due to his obsession with his book. While in Bucharest on Easter Sunday in 1938, he is struck by a bolt of lightning as he is crossing the street in a thunderstorm. It is a direct hit but somehow, miraculously, he not only survives but after long months of recovery he emerges a new being, what Kipal calls a “post-historic man.” He loses all his teeth but new ones come in; he looks like a man of 40 not 70 with a full shock of brown not gray hair, and he has extraordinary powers of memory, thought, and “supernatural” powers, like telekinesis. He is also sexually reborn. The electromagnetic blast catapulted him into the future; evolution has reached new heights in his new person. But he is cautious at first about who and what he has become. Only his doctor (Bruno Ganz) knows the complete truth about what happened. In sum, he seems to embody what future humanity has the potential to become.

Does this sound familiar? I thought of the X-Men right away. Like them, Dominic is a “Mutant Marvel.” This is a much different take on the idea but the core idea is the same. But news of this Mutant Marvel finally reaches the Nazis. While he was recovering the doctor protected him and encouraged him to dig into his memory; he often dreams about Laura and many other things. He more or less retrieves his personality. One particular Nazi doctor wants to study him, like he was some kind of bug, but Dominic escapes his clutches by using telekinesis. He revives his life of study and eventually meets a girl named Veronica (Alexandra Maria Lara), who is none other Laura come round again—reincarnated—so the two of them get a second chance. (The original Laura had died young in childbirth.) But it isn’t all that simple. In a weird twist of synchronicity, Veronica also gets struck by lightning, on a trip to the Alps. He finds her in a cave; she is in a dreamy state, can only speak Sanskrit--he does too-- and she says she is a student of some 14^th century Indian guru/philosopher that Dominic knows about. An Italian Orientalist comes from Rome to authenticate her story. (In the novel it is Buddhologist Guiseppe Tucci and depth Psychologist Carl Jung, experts in real life.) . Eventually she returns to herself and she and Dominic go off to Malta to be alone. Love blossoms like it never had a chance to in the past. But then she starts to regress again, going back to Egypt, then Mesopotamia, speaking the language of both places, and then to a mysterious place with an unknown language. Dominic is very excited that he is getting close to his lifetime’s goal, but there is a hitch. In an inverse relation to what happened to him after his rendezvous with the flash from the heavens, Veronica ages beyond her years (25) with each regression. ( I have met a number of European men who have had this idea of women being the ground of being and vessels they can use to transport themselves by mental powers to other dimensions of consciousness.) He realizes if he pushes her any farther she could die, so he leaves her for a second time, for her own good. We later see a picture of her, once again young and beautiful, with two kids. Dominic has gone full circle so he heads back to where he started from, at his old university, now 88 years old but still looking 40.

For those of you who intend to see the film I will refrain from discussing the ending. For it to have impact you must be open to the closing. Some of you will have figured it out. And I do hope you see it, as it is worthwhile. There is much in the narrative that I haven’t touched on, like Dominic’s alter ego, who we first see in a mirror and later the two of them have dialogues about what is going on, somewhat similar to Kevin Costner and William Hurt in “Mr. Brooks.” There is also the mysterious story of the three red roses.

Finally, a word about Coppola’s skills. He still knows how to put images together and he handles color relationships very well. All the set pieces are excellent, authoritative. Nothing on that level has been diminished by time and winemaking. He also coaxes a very fine performance out of Tim Roth in a difficult role, one in which he has to speak in several languages and write with Chinese characters.

It is now available on DVD.

Letter to a Friend

Dear Harry,

This morning I received a short E-mail from a friend from my days in California who now lives in Canada while holding dual citizenship. It read: “What should I do? Every time I see that bimbo on TV, I want to vomit! If Republicans pull this out I might have to surrender my US passport…. How has the country gone so low?”

That’s a tough question to answer. It does feel like we are living through the Endgame of what Oswald Spengler called the Late City Culture, the last stage of the “Decline of the West.” It is a time when the Circus dominates, a bimbo can be the Lion Tamer, and everything is topsy-turvy. I keep thinking of that line from “Subterranean Homesick Blues,” the pump don’t work/because the vandals took the handle.” I also keep playing Dylan’s “Desolation Row.” It’s where my mind is tending.

Yeah, it takes a lot of faith and plenty of will power to get out of bed these days. The John McCain who was once a respected figure on Capitol Hill is long gone, his honesty and integrity shot to hell by age, ambition, and Karl Rove’s Death Squad. Without his BABE McCain’s campaign would have been long gone too. Palin is keeping him in the game with her act, now with whip in hand, the scourge of Obama and his tainted friends and associates. The two of them have abandoned all pretense of having a program or fresh ideas; they are going for a negative assault the rest of the way in a last ditch all out attempt to catch and crush Obama, who currently leads by several points. It worked before, why not again? And it might, so many of the voters are sleepwalking or too preoccupied with survival to check the truth behind the lies and distortions.

All of the weaknesses of Democracy seem so exposed right now. The masses are so vulnerable to the “Big Lie” and to top-down government, with a strong leader with the “Big Stick.” How can a cranky ex-pilot and a dumbass bimbo even contend with two men of intellect and quality? How can she be the toast of the town in certain quarters? It is a sign of how low the Republicans have sunk. It is said that swing voters don’t like negative campaigning and smear tactics, plus if all the young people who have signed up to vote actually go to the polls to cast a ballot, Obama will win—and decisively. As for shenanigans or voting fraud, I asked my daughter in Florida how do things look there, and she said that a small army of lawyers has been all over the issue for months.

And then of course there is the big question: Will the voters who say they are for Obama actually vote for him? Or will they reconsider in the privacy of the voting booth?

Yours hopefully,

Jerry P