By Dennis Hartley
Reflections on what makes America great…via the Firesign Theater:
By Dennis Hartley
Reflections on what makes America great…via the Firesign Theater:
By Dennis Hartley
46 years ago today, the 3-day 1970 Atlanta International Pop Festival opened. Attendees were estimated to be around 200,000.
Historically overshadowed by Woodstock (held 11 months earlier), it still boasted an equally impressive roster of performers. Granted, a number of Woodstock luminaries were there (Jimi Hendrix, Johnny Winter, Ten Years After, John Sebastian, Richie Havens, Mountain et.al.), but there were top acts exclusive to the Atlanta Festival like The Allman Brothers, B.B. King, The Chambers Brothers, Procol Harum, Grand Funk Railroad, Spirit, Rare Earth, Mott the Hoople, and It’s A Beautiful Day (just to name a few).
The cost of a ticket? $14. I’ll spell that out, so you don’t think it’s a typo: fourteen dollars. Yes, I know, inflation, yadda yadda…but still (a front row seat at this fall’s Desert Trip will only set you back $9,400).
But I digress. Back to Atlanta, 1970. At midnight on July 4th, Jimi Hendrix performed to the biggest domestic audience of his career (sadly, just over two months later, he was gone forever). He played a rousing set, which is documented in the excellent 2015 Showtime production, Jimi Hendrix: Electric Church (currently available on Showtime’s In-Demand feature, if you haven’t caught it yet). Hendrix included his idiosyncratic “Star Spangled Banner” salute (how could he not do it on the Fourth?), with fireworks. Pretty awesome stuff.
Unfortunately, despite the “right of the people peaceably to assemble” (not to mention that whole freedom of expression thing) someone didn’t find Jimi’s paean so awesome (there’s one in every crowd). The “someone”? Governor Lester Maddox. Two days after the festival, he announced he was going to push for legislation to ban any future such DFH events in his state. Because you know…freedom.
Oh, Georgia. Happy holiday weekend, everyone!
By Dennis Hartley
The most consistently entertaining recurring bit on The Late Show With Stephen Colbert is “Big Questions With Even Bigger Stars”. Last night’s installment is the funniest one yet, and an instant classic:
Pity about the censors (network TV), but it still gave me some much needed comic relief from Trump, Terrorists & Tories (oh my).
By Dennis Hartley
(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on June 26, 2016)
“For some time, [United Kingdom] constitutional nerds such as myself used to float this kind of nightmare scenario, in which one or more parts of the U.K such as Northern Ireland or Scotland [votes to stay in the E.U.], while England, being the largest group [votes to leave the E.U.]…basically those other parts of the U.K. are out-voted. […] Now this has actually happened; this isn’t a nightmare scenario any longer, it’s the reality.”
– Andrew Blick, lecturer in politics and contemporary history (from an interview on CNN, June 24, 2016).
There’s been a substantial amount of speculation among the chattering class over the last 36 hours regarding a possible “contagion effect” on the nations who remain allegiant to the European Union, following the U.K.’s voter-mandated breakaway this past Thursday.
While no one with a modicum of sense and/or logic is expecting World War III to break out next week as a result of the “Brexit” referendum decision, there remain a number of compelling historical reasons why the possibility of profound political and socioeconomic instability in Europe down the road is concerning to those who keep track of such things.
For a continent that encompasses a relatively modest 3,930,000 square miles altogether (for perspective, the United States by itself is 3,806,000 square miles in size), Europe has a densely complex history of political volatility, avarice-driven disputes, willful military aggression and generations-spanning (ruling) family squabbles that boggles the mind.
I’m not saying we haven’t gotten our own hair mussed once or twice here in the good ‘ol U.S. of A; after all, 620,000 people died in the Civil War. That said, 17 million people died in World War I, and an estimated 60 million souls slipped the surly bonds of Earth in the course of World War II. Yes, those were “world” wars, but volatility in Europe was the primary impetus. I guess what I’m saying is, the fact that we have known the existence of a unified Europe in our lifetimes is a blessing that we have taken for granted.
However, as implied by the quote at the top of the post, what makes the Brexit decision even more fascinating to me is the possibility of the U.K. itself splintering apart eventually as a result. Which in effect would be history repeating itself, particularly in the case of Scotland, which voted almost overwhelmingly in favor of remaining in the E.U. In fact, Scotland’s First Minister, Nicola Sturgeon has already announced a plan to keep Scotland in the E.U., as well as noting that drafts are in the works for legislation proposing another vote on Scottish independence from the U.K. (there was one in 2014).
To say that the history between England and Scotland is a “bloody” one would not be overstatement. Consider a particularly nasty bit of business generally referred to as the “Jacobite Uprising” or “The Forty-five Rebellion” (1745-1746). Depending on which historian you’re reading, the conflict was either a clan war betwixt Scottish lowlanders and highlanders, a religious civil war, or a Scottish war of independence against England. For the sake of expediency, I’m going to split the difference and call it “all of the above”.
The culmination of the conflict occurred on April 16, 1745 with the Battle of Culloden:
(from The National Trust for Scotland website)
Towards one o’clock, the Jacobite artillery opened fire on government soldiers. The government responded with their own cannon, and the Battle of Culloden began.
Bombarded by cannon shot and mortar bombs, the Jacobite clans held back, waiting for the order to attack. At last they moved forwards, through hail, smoke, murderous gunfire and grapeshot. Around eighty paces from their enemy they started to fire their muskets and charged. Some fought ferociously. Others never reached their goal. The government troops had finally worked out bayonet tactics to challenge the dreaded Highland charge and broadsword. The Jacobites lost momentum, wavered, then fled.
Hardly an hour had passed between the first shots and the final flight of the Prince’s army. Although a short battle by European standards, it was an exceptionally bloody one.
Culloden was not only “an exceptionally bloody” battle, but holds distinction as the last such pitched battle to be fought on British soil. Although the slaughter did not stop there:
(from The New World Encyclopedia website)
After their victory, Cumberland ordered his men to execute all the Jacobite wounded and prisoners, an act by which he was known afterwards as “the Butcher.” Certain higher-ranking prisoners did survive to be tried and executed later in Inverness. […]
Immediately after the battle, Cumberland rode into Inverness, his drawn sword still covered in blood, a symbolic and menacing gesture. The following day, the slaughter continued, when patrols were sent back to the battlefield to kill any survivors; contemporary sources indicate that about 70 more Jacobites were killed as a result…
[…] 3,470 Jacobites, supporters, and others were taken prisoner in the aftermath of Culloden, with 120 of them being executed and 88 dying in prison; 936 transported to the colonies, and 222 more “banished.” While many were eventually released, the fate of nearly 700 is unknown.
The Rebellion left a profound cultural impact on Scotland as well. From the same article:
[The ’45 Rebellion] had enormous psychological impact upon the Highland Scots, and severe civil penalties thereafter (for example, it became a criminal offense to wear tartan plaid). What followed can be described as cultural vandalism, with the destruction of a way of life that many had found meaningful, giving them a sense of identity and kinship.
So how does this all tie in with the Brexit vote? In a well-written 2011 Daily Kos piece inspired by the (then) 265th anniversary of the Battle of Culloden, OP OllieGarky notes:
Cameron and Thatcher’s recent ruthlessness towards Scottish public institutions is nothing new. It is a pale relic of previous attempts to rebuild Scotland into a properly British province, according to whatever fashion the current leaders took. […]
Culloden and its aftermath is an emotional issue for the Scottish Diaspora. Depending on your definition, how you include or exclude individuals from the Diaspora, the Diaspora outnumbers the population of Scotland by no less than 12 to one. This loss of people has been disastrous for Scotland in recent years, leading to the rise of the Scottish National Party. […]
The Scottish Nationalists are Nationalists in name only. They don’t espouse any of the ethnocentric bile typical of traditional Nationalist groups like the BNP, or White Nationalists in the US. Indeed, the music of Scottish Nationalism is disgusted with the ethnocentric ideas that are themselves an integral part of the BNP’s British Nationalism, or its predecessor the National Front’s English Nationalism.
It’s no secret that there was an undercurrent of anti-immigrant nativism streaking through rhetoric spouted by some of the high profile spokespersons in the “leave the E.U.” camp.
Which (finally) brings us to writer-director Peter Watkins’ largely forgotten, yet somewhat groundbreaking made-for BBC-TV docudrama from 1964 entitled Culloden. The film has been newly remastered for a beautifully-transferred “two-fer” (Region “B” only) Blu-ray release from BFI that also includes Watkins’ more well-known (and controversial) 1965 BBC docudrama The War Game (****), which is an unblinking, startlingly realistic envisioning of the after-effects of a nuclear attack on the city of Kent.
Truth be told, the primary reason I ordered the set was to snag a copy of The War Game; I was previously unaware of Culloden (it never aired outside of the U.K., unlike The War Game, which gained its higher profile from international cinematic distribution in 1966, subsequently earning it an Academy Award for Best Documentary Feature back in 1967).
It is by pure kismet that I just happened to view Culloden for the first time about 2 weeks ago, so it’s fresh in my mind; otherwise I likely never would have connected this relatively obscure battle that took place 270 years ago with the results of the Brexit referendum just this past Thursday. At any rate, I was happy to discover this gem, which is very much in the vein of Stanley Kubrick’s Paths of Glory. While he shares Kubrick’s eye for detail and realistic depiction of the horror of battle, Watkins does him one better:
(From David Archibald’s essay, written for the companion booklet to the BFI Blu-ray)
“Culloden” emerged at the high point in British television. In 1956 Bertolt Brecht’s Berliner Ensemble toured Britain for the first time, and the company’s non-Aristotelian, distanciation techniques, which attempted to highlight theater’s constructed nature and, in turn, politicize the spectator, were becoming increasingly popular among leftist theater-makers […]
The experimental and constructed nature of [“Culloden”] is all-too apparent: on-location shooting; fourth-wall breaking direct address to the camera; repeated, shaky camera work; tight close-ups on the protagonists’ faces and the presence of a narrator who describes events as if reporting on the daily news.
The anachronistic conceit that Watkins employs cannily presages the advent of the “mockumentary” (although you will discover nothing “funny” is going on in the course of the film’s 69 minutes). Yet there is nothing “gimmicky” about it, in fact, the overall effect is quite powerful and involving. As Archibald goes on to conclude in his essay:
Yet this is not simply an adaptation of [John Prebbles’ eponymous 1962 book] but stands in its own right as a legitimate historical representation of an important chapter in Scottish and British history. […]
[Peter Watkins] never returned to television [following “The War Game” in 1965], but he leaves behind a brace of innovative yet accessible, provocative yet popular documentaries, which remain strikingly fresh and politically potent.
Here are 2 things I know to be true: Culloden is strikingly fresh. And history is cyclical.
(BFI’s Blu-ray is Region “B”; it requires a region-free player for viewing!)
By Dennis Hartley
(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on June 18, 2016)
And maybe love is just letting people be just what they want to be The door must always be left unlocked
-from “What is Love”, written by Howard Jones
In the opening of writer-director James Bird’s melodrama Honeyglue, an attractive, gender-fluid young man breaks the ice with an attractive young woman on a dance floor with an original pickup line: “What are you?” To which the young woman replies, “What do you mean, what am I?” The young man counters with “Are you a dragonfly?” “I look like an insect?” she asks, not sure whether she’s being pranked. “Like a dragonfly,” he answers with a smile. Then she turns the tables. “Are you a guy?” she asks. “As opposed to what?” the young man answers with a defensive tone. “As opposed to a girl,” she says. “What do you prefer I be?” he asks. “I mean…are you gay?” she asks this time, hastily adding “It’s OK if you are” as an afterthought. “You ask a lot of questions,” he says, then stalks away into the crowd.
And if you’re thinking that marks the beginning of a beautiful friendship (with benefits), you would be correct (and/or you’ve seen one or two formula mumble core indie flicks). That is not to suggest that Honeyglue is a wholly unoriginal film; as far as formula mumble core indie flicks go, you could do a lot worse. And once you toss a few venerable Disease of the Week Hollywood clichés to the mix, you at least get an interesting hybrid.
The most compelling element of the film is the two romantic leads. Adriana Mather gives a resonant and touching performance as Morgan, a suburban princess who falls in love with streetwise club kid Jordan (Zach Villa, also quite good). Unfortunately, the work by the remainder of the cast is wildly uneven. In fact, one performance is so downright godawful that it becomes a distraction; however as I see that this (hitherto unfamiliar to me) thespian has 99 credits listed on IMDB and is “an award-winning Canadian actor”, I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt and grant that it could be chalked up to miscasting.
Still, despite the screenplay’s clumsy mashup of Now, Voyager with The Crying Game, occasional forays into Love Story-worthy mawkishness and tendency to have its characters spout Hallmark Card platitudes at each other, there remains a stubborn streak of sincerity and goodwill (bolstered by the earnestness of the two young leads), just palpable enough to keep sentimental souls (honey) glued right through to its inevitable four-hanky denouement. And arriving as it does in theaters literally right on the heels of the recent evil mayhem in Orlando, the film’s core message, that Love (gender-defying or otherwise) trumps not only Hate, but perhaps even Death itself, could not be any timelier.
By Dennis Hartley
‘Wait’ has always meant ‘never’ – Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr.
“Now is not the time to talk about [insert gun-violence related meme here] .” We’ve heard that before; predictably, we’re hearing it again.
But there is something about this mass shooting that screams “Last call for sane discourse and positive action!” on multiple fronts. This incident is akin to a perfect Hollywood pitch, writ large by fate and circumstance; incorporating nearly every sociopolitical causality that has been quantified and/or debated over by criminologists, psychologists, legal analysts, legislators, anti-gun activists, pro-gun activists, left-wingers, right-wingers, centrists, clerics, journalists and pundits in the wake of every such incident since Charles Whitman perched atop the clock tower at the University of Texas and picked off nearly 50 victims (14 dead and 32 wounded) over a 90-minute period. That incident occurred in 1966; 50 years ago this August. Not an auspicious golden anniversary for our country. 50 years of this madness. And it’s still not the appropriate time to discuss? What…too soon?
Everything old is new again: The cover of Time, Aug. 12, 1966
The Orlando incident contains nearly every hot-button trigger. The gunman: spousal abuser, obsessed with firearms, mental issues, of the Muslim faith. The weapon: a legally purchased assault rifle. The target: a nightclub popular with the LGBTQ community. The motivation: too early to say definitively, but history points to a likelihood of either personal, political, ideological, or perhaps ‘all of the above’. The initial rush to judgement per social media and the MSM: that this was a terror attack on America, pure and simple, end of story.All I can say is, if this “worst mass shooting in U.S. history” (which is saying a lot) isn’t the perfect catalyst for prompting meaningful public dialogue and positive action steps once and for all regarding homophobia, Islamophobia, domestic violence, the proliferation of hate crimes, legal assault weapons, universal background checks, mental health care (did I leave anything out?), then WTF will it take?
By Dennis Hartley
My apologies. We should have that audio for you any second now.
Aaaany second, now…
Oh. Never mind.
By Dennis Hartley
(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on June 11, 2016)
In my 2011 review of George Clooney’s political drama, The Ides of March, I wrote:
I suppose that is the message of this film (politics is all awash in the wooing). The art of seduction and the art of politicking are one and the same; not exactly a new revelation (a narrative that goes back at least as far as, I don’t know, Shakespeare’s “Julius Caesar”). The politician is seduced by power. However, the politician first must seduce the voter. A pleasing narrative is spun and polished, promises are made, sweet nothings whispered in the ear, and the voter caves. But once your candidate is ensconced in their shiny new office, well…about that diamond ring? It turns out to be cubic zirconium. Then it’s all about the complacency, the lying, the psychodramas, and the traumas. While a lot of folks do end up getting ‘screwed’, it is not necessarily in the most desirable and fun way.
In Weiner, Josh Kriegman and Elyse Steinberg’s no-holds-barred documentary recounting Anthony Weiner’s 2013 run for NYC mayor, their subject waxes rhetorically:
“Do my personal relationships suffer because of the superficial and transactional nature of my political relationships-or is it the other way around? Do you go into politics because you’re not connecting on that other level? […] Politicians probably are wired in some way that needs attention. […] It is hard to have normal relationships.”
To which your humble movie reviewer can only append: “Is there an echo in here?”
So, are those driven to willingly throw themselves into that shark tank we call ‘politics’ doing so to compensate for an inability to connect with (or commit to) someone else on a personally meaningful level? Or is it neediness, insecurity, and/or narcissism? Perhaps they are gluttons for punishment? Wait, that’s too cynical; surely, it must be attributable to a sense of altruism, patriotism or a sincere desire to devote one’s life to public service?
Of course I’m being coy; you and I know that if we’re referring to human beings, the answer is “all of the above”. While individual politicians are occasionally equated with saints, politicians and saints are mutually exclusive. Two lessons I’ve learned from films:
Kriegman and Steinberg’s film raises a number of related questions; the most obvious one being: should ‘we’, as constituents, be willing to forgive the personal indiscretions (barring prosecutable criminal offenses) of those who we have voted into public office? Should we view that as a personal betrayal? After all, if making boneheaded decisions in one’s love life was a crime, I’d bet that there would be barely enough politicians left outside of prison to run the country. Then there’s the existential question: WTF were you thinking?!
The filmmakers were given remarkable access to Weiner, his family and 2013 campaign staffers during the course of his ill-fated mayoral run (not really a spoiler, as I am assuming you’ve become familiar with the phrase ‘New York City mayor Bill de Blasio’). I’m guessing their fascination stemmed from the fact that Weiner was putting himself in the ring just two years after a highly publicized “sexting” scandal led to his resignation from the U.S. House of Representatives in 2011.
The resultant public shaming seemed to go on and on; not helped by having a surname synonymous with the part of his anatomy that got him into trouble in the first place. This naturally offered limitless variations of nudge-nudge-wink-wink double entendre for late-night hosts, comedians, and water cooler wiseacres to reap from.
That’s a shame, as the directors remind us with an opening montage highlighting Weiner’s finer political moments. What tends to get lost in the flurry of sophomoric dick jokes that continue to this day, is that he was one of the first truly fearless progressive firebrands to stand their ground and call out the obstructionist bullshit amidst one of the most toxic partisan takeovers of the House in recent memory.
Which makes me sad. And mad…re-prompting “that” question. WTF were you thinking?!
If you’re curious to see this film because you think it reveals the answer…don’t waste your time. It’s not for lack of trying by the filmmakers; at one juncture (just as “new” details about the 2011 sexting hit the media) one director asks Weiner outright: “Why have you let me film this?” Weiner doesn’t really have an answer.
However, if you want to see an uncompromising, refreshingly honest political documentary about how down and dirty campaigns can get in the trenches, this one is a must-see. Just be warned-it’s not for the squeamish. Not that there is anything gross, or graphic (aside from a little colorful language here and there). It’s just that some scenes could induce that flush of empathetic embarrassment you experience when a couple has a loud spat at the table next to yours at a crowded restaurant, or when a drunken relative tells an off-color joke at Thanksgiving dinner. It’s equally unfiltered and cringe-inducing.
Putting the deeper political and psychological analysis aside, the film also happens to be entertaining. In fact, it is so sharply observed and cleverly constructed (kudos to editor Eli B. Despres) that it plays like the best political mockumentary that Armando Iannucci never created (even he couldn’t concoct a script this perfect if he tried).
I came away with something else just as unexpected. In light of what is happening right now (and getting more horrifying by the day) regarding the 2016 presidential race, Anthony Weiner’s sexting scandal, humiliating resignation from Congress, and subsequent ill-advised 2013 mayoral run (replete with all of its angst, mudslinging and “Carlos Danger” memes) already feels, in relative terms, like the distant memory of some bygone era when we lived in an America with a kinder, gentler, saner political landscape.
(Currently in limited theatrical release and on PPV)
By Dennis Hartley
Oh, Donnie. Brian May is less than pleased with Trump co-opting Queen’s “We Are the Champions” as his grand entrance theme:
[From Rolling Stone]
“I’ve had an avalanche of complaints – some of which you can see in our ‘Letters’ page – about Donald Trump using our ‘We Are The Champions’ track as his ‘theme’ song on USA TV,” May wrote on his website. “This is not an official Queen statement, but I can confirm that permission to use the track was neither sought nor given. We are taking advice on what steps we can take to ensure this use does not continue. Regardless of our views on Mr. Trump’s platform, it has always been against our policy to allow Queen music to be used as a political campaigning tool.”
[…]
May isn’t the first musician to deny Trump access to their catalogs. In September, after the politician used R.E.M.’s hit “It’s the End of the World as We Know It (And I Feel Fine)” at a rally, singer Michael Stipe angrily responded, “Go fuck yourselves, the lot of you – you sad, attention-grabbing, power-hungry little men … Do not use our music or my voice for your moronic charade of a campaign.”
Sad! In the interest of mediation, may I suggest the following (and much more apropos) selection for Mr. Trump’s intros going forward?
By Dennis Hartley
All my games were political games; I was, like Joan of Arc, perpetually being burned at the stake.
– Indira Gandhi
As Digby pointed out in her excellent piece this morning, it seems to be getting tougher for the MSM to recognize a truly historic moment right away, even when it jumps up and bites them right on the ass.
Ditto for a distressingly large percentage of the American population, whose collective attention span holds a rough equivalency to the average life expectancy of a photo once you post it on Snapchat.
However, I think it’s safe to say that, for those of us old and/or cognizant enough to have a sense of history, Hillary Clinton’s 99.9 % assured confirmation as the presumptive Democratic nominee for POTUS last night can be recognized as a truly historic moment.
Love her or hate her, this is significant. Yes, it’s old hat for other democracies around the world; for the nation that allegedly leads the way in such matters, it’s shamefully overdue, but most welcome.
As for Hillary herself; she’s survived more trials by fire than The Mother of Dragons. You have to respect that, begrudgingly or not.
So feel free to put your phone on silent mode and take a moment…
https://youtu.be/_O8s2kg8ufc