UPDATED: A Clockwork Orange, The Brontes & The London Riots

Malcolm McDowell as Alex DeLarge in "A Clockwork Orange."

[EDITOR’S NOTE: The New York Post’s Kyle Smith suddenly has a column out today (8/17) entitled “The Clockwork riots,” which compares the London riots to both the Burgess and Kubrick versions of A Clockwork Orange, referring to the “prophetic” nature of those works, as well as to the ongoing crime “orgy” in London. No attribution is made to Libertas. This seems to be a striking coincidence. We would appreciate a clarification from Mr. Smith.]

By David Ross. A Clockwork Orange, Kubrick’s classic interpretation of Anthony Burgess’ 1962 novel, is no longer prophetic. It is actual. The realization of its vision is unmistakable as London mobs of juvenile miscreants burn and loot, differing from Malcolm McDowell’s Alex DeLarge only insofar as they would not be caught dead listening to Beethoven. We are witnessing the nanny state eventuate in its logical terminus: abdication of personal responsibility, dissolution of purpose, collapse of belief, crippling unconscious sense of one’s own infantilization. As Mark Steyn says, “Big government means small citizens.”

This seems to me the movie’s crucial exchange:

Tramp: Well, go on, do me in you bastard cowards! I don’t want to live anyway, not in a stinking world like this!
Alex: Oh? And what’s so stinking about it?
Tramp: It’s a stinking world because there’s no law and order anymore! It’s a stinking world because it lets the young get on to the old, like you done. Oh, it’s no world for an old man any longer. What sort of a world is it at all? Men on the moon, and men spinning around the earth, and there’s not no attention paid to earthly law and order no more.

“No attention paid to Earthly law and order” is a curious and pregnant phrase. The tramp wants to complain not merely about crime, but about alienation from something more fundamental than the penal code. The exasperated allusion to “men on the moon” implicates that rationalism and materialism of a post-religious age. Seduced by our new powers of knowledge and control, we’ve lost sight of basic truths and duties.

Just now I’m reading Elizabeth Gaskell’s 1857 biography of Charlotte Bronte. As the yobs spread their mayhem, I can’t help thinking of the three Bronte sisters, their mother dead, their two elder sisters dead, no schooling to speak of, no money to speak of, nothing but the cold and howling Yorkshire wind for company, and yet toiling to master French, German, politics, history, and literature, and eventually promulgating, from the nursery of a provincial parsonage, one of the great literary sprees in all history. How is it that their kind has become so utterly inconceivable?

Continue reading UPDATED: A Clockwork Orange, The Brontes & The London Riots

The BBC Plays Itself: LFM Reviews The Hour

By Joe Bendel. It is a provocative, ‘what if’ question. Had the United States forcefully backed the British government during the Suez Crisis, how would history be different? Indeed, the Soviet backed Nasser’s media victory is often considered a precipitating factor contributing to the overthrow of the pro-western Hashemite monarchy in Iraq, but everything turned out okay there in the long run, right? Instead America undercut her closest ally to curry favor with the UN and the independent Arab States. How well did that work, again? A watershed moment for the collective British psyche, the Suez Crisis supplies the backdrop for the newsroom drama The Hour, which premieres on BBC America this Wednesday as the inaugural selection of the network’s Dramaville showcase of British dramatic limited series, hosted by Luther’s Idris Elba.

Romola Garai in "The Hour."

Bel Rowley and longtime platonic friend Freddie Lyon consider themselves the future of British journalism, wasted in the BBC’s newsreel department. Unfortunately, Lyon is a bit too tightly wound for his own good. When the call comes to work on the network’s new weekly newsmagazine, The Hour, Rowley gets the producer job he covets. Nearly chucking away his career out of resentment, Lyon reluctantly accepts an unglamorous position as the home affairs correspondent. He might be brilliant, but his personal cold war with Hector Madden, the show’s presenter, complicates Rowley’s position. Much like William Hurt in Broadcast News, he is not gifted at thinking on his feet during an interview segment. However, the married Madden’s ambitions are considerable and they include Rowley.

Initially, the show-within-the-show flounders, but when the Suez ignites, they hit their stride. Suddenly questions of censorship are raised when the Eden government starts invoking the gag rule for issues under debate in parliament. To that end, Angus McCain, an Eden advisor with a rather vague portfolio, starts haunting the BBC offices, creeping out the staff with his oiliness. Shocking as it might sound, it turns out many of the journalists have their own agendas as well.

For most of the first three episodes, The Hour hints at a conspiracy within the Eden government, possibly involving the murder of Ruth Elms, Lyon’s childhood friend of aristocratic lineage. However, two events occur in episode four that cloud the show’s ideological implications, making it richer and more complex: the Soviets invade Hungary and we learn they also have a mole operating within the BBC. Just what sort of Cold War morality play The Hour will ultimately become is not at all certain at the shows mid-point, but that ambiguity is not necessarily a bad thing.

Many critics might be tempted to dub the show Mad Men meets Smiley’s People. Indeed, the show has a well crafted 1950’s period look and there is certainly a good deal of alcohol being consumed. The moody jazz-influence score also nicely heightens the noir atmosphere. Continue reading The BBC Plays Itself: LFM Reviews The Hour

LFM Review: Russia Invades Georgia in 5 Days of War, Starring Andy Garcia

By Joe Bendel. In early August, 2008, the Russian military invaded the free and democratic country of Georgia, leaving death and destruction in its wake. They are still there, occupying the so-called breakaway republics of South Ossetia and Abkhazia, a fact the media has yet to notice. Indeed, the journalistic establishment did its best to look the other way, except for a hardy band of foreign correspondents who risked life and limb to cover the Russian atrocities. Finnish filmmaker Renny Harlin (yes, that Renny Harlin) dramatizes Georgia’s struggle to preserve its sovereign integrity through their lenses in 5 Days of War, which opens this Friday in New York.

Georgian president Mikheil Saakashvili was elected President as a Western-oriented reformer, the exact opposite of Russian PM Vladimir Putin. So committed to strengthening relations with America and NATO, Georgia contributed military forces to Operation Iraqi Freedom. For war reporter Thomas Anders, it is a good thing they did. As 5 Days opens, Capt. Rezo Avaliani’s unit arrives just in the nick of time to save him from a terrorist ambush, creating a bond of friendship between the two men. As Russia starts massing troops on the border, the psychologically wounded Anders heads back into the field, where he will encounter the good Captain again.

President Saakashvili and his American advisor scramble to rally world support, but the media is not interested. When CNN bothers to cover the story (yes, the network is mentioned by name), they only present the Russian government’s spin. Even more frustrating, legitimate journalists on the ground, like Anders and his hard drinking colleague Laurens “Dutchman” Roemer, are not able to place their dramatic stories of Russian war crimes (unflinchingly illustrated throughout the film), because their outlets simply do not care. Unfortunately, the Olympics will soon start, crowding beleaguered Georgia out of the media spotlight.

It will come as a shock to many that Renny Harlin had such a serious and timely film in him. Yet, it is important to remember the Cliffhanger director’s Finnish roots. Indeed, Saakashvili explicitly references Finland’s resistance to Soviet invaders in his climatic address to the nation. The director clearly has a passion for the story, but his action movie roots also serve the material quite well.

Frankly, it is a bit of a misnomer to call 5 Days a war film, because it was never a fair fight. However, Harlin and cinematographer Checco Varese (a former news cameraman who saw action in Bosnia and Chechnya) convey a vivid sense of what it is like to have the Russian war machine bearing down on you. It is a scarily convincing sensation, never really captured on film so effectively before.

A surprisingly good physical match for Saakashvili, Andy Garcia invests the film with real dignity and gravitas. In fact, his delivery of the President’s stirring national address might just get you a little choked up. Indeed, the Georgian characters are all quite credible and compelling, particularly Johnathon Schaech as the resourceful Capt. Avaliani.

Andy Garcia as Mikheil Saakashvili in "Five Days of War."

Shrewdly, Val Kilmer plays to his new degenerate out-of-shape image as the cynical Dutchman. Rade Sherbedgia, Kilmer’s former co-star from The Saint, notches another memorable heavy role, playing Col. Demidov with more nuance than the Russians deserve. If there is a weak spot in the cast it is Rupert Friend, who only digs into his character just so far, in between dodging bullets and getting the stuffing kicked out of him. Still, he is serviceable enough to keep the film on track and firing on all cylinders.

Tightly helmed by Harlin, 5 Days is absolutely riveting as cinema when considered only according to strict formalist criteria, but of course there is much more to take into account. One suspects it was originally conceived with an even darker slap-in-the-face ending. Regardless, the final film is blisteringly angry and honest. Yet it is also inspiring, depicting a small, scrappy Eastern European nation standing up against a vastly more powerful aggressor, championing the values we advocate. Conversely, for nearly everyone working for a major media outlet, the film is a long cold glass of shame. One of the year’s best, 5 Days opens this Friday (8/19) in New York at the Angelika Film Center.

Posted on August 15th, 2011 at 11:02am.

YouTube Jukebox: Tony Rice

By David Ross. The kiddy culture – the culture of sneakers, fast food, and video games – has subsumed the adult culture; or rather adolescents have stopped graduating from one to the other. Thus, as I read in Mark Steyn’s latest tome, the chilling and funerary After America, “males 18 to 34 years old play more video games than kids: according to a 2006 Nielsen survey, 48.2 percent of men in that demographic amused themselves in that way for an average of two hours and forty-three minutes every day – that’s thirteen minutes longer than the 12- to 17-year-olds” (181). Kay Hymowitz provides the definitive account of the new “child-man” in City Journal.

The kiddy world is characterized by impulse; the adult world by purpose. The kiddy world belongs to the playpen of the present moment; the adult world tethers itself to both past and future. The kiddy world passively imitates and downloads; the adult world discriminates and invents.

If I had to offer a living symbol of the “adult world” – its tenderness, stoicism, rigor, mature calm – I would point to Tony Rice’s version of “Shenandoah.” I would say to our thirtysomething sneaker-wearers, this is what it means to be grown up, to carry yourself like a man.

Posted on August 15th, 2011 at 10:34am.

LFM Review: Strike Back Brings The War on Terror to Cinemax + Watch The Show’s First 6 Minutes

By Joe Bendel. As far as Section 20 is concerned, the only good terrorist is a terrorist getting renditioned to within an inch of their lives. As a result, disgraced former U.S. Delta Force soldier Damien Scott finds he fits in rather well in the double-secret British counter-terrorism unit in Strike Back, which has its series debut tonight on Cinemax.

Like 24 in its Surnow heyday, viewers should not get too attached to reoccurring characters, including John Porter (a lead protagonist from Strike Back’s pre-Cinemax first season on British Sky TV). Captured while investigating a large scale operation code-named Project Dawn, Porter has been captured by terrorists loyal to the Islamist mastermind, “Latif.” Aside from Porter, only his former American counterpart from the early days of Iraq can identify the mysterious Latif. That of course would be Scott, whom Section 20’s Sgt. Stonebridge finds drinking, whoring, and pit-fighting his way through a Southeast Asian redlight district.

Naturally, there is major friction between the Yank and the Brit, but they are all business when the bullets start flying. If the first four installments are representative of the entire season, Strike Back’s wider overarching storyline will be advanced by a succession of two episode mini-arcs. On the micro-level, the show is a breath of fresh air, featuring terrorists who are not simply misguided, but horrifically evil. For instance, Scott spends the balance of episode two protecting an innocent young girl from Islamic terrorists (who are explicitly identified as such), only taking occasional breaks to bed the beautiful women of the hotel taken hostage by the terrorist thugs. Seriously, that’s an apt description.

However, on the macro level, Strike Back’s shadowy meta-conspiracy threatens to be a real buzz kill. Supposedly, Scott was unceremoniously mustered out of service because he caught wind of a plan to plant the WMD stockpiles that would “justify” Operation Iraqi Freedom. Those infamous weapons are now at loose ends, doggedly pursued by Latif for his nefarious purposes. This sort of potential demonization of the American military and intelligence services is exactly what we do not need any more of on television.

It would be a shame if Strike Back’s macro themes continue in this direction, because they could spoil some genuinely rip-rousing television entertainment. As Scott, Sullivan Stapleton is an undeniably likable and engaging hard-nosed bad-attitude protagonist. Though the relatively by-the-book Stonebridge is probably not as fun to play, Philip Winchester displays plenty of square jawed action cred. There are also plenty of James Bond worthy women, like Karen David (sort of geek-famous for Scorpion King 2) as the barmaid Scott protects when the terrorists break up their hook-up. Likewise, the villains are truly villainous, such as the workaholic Liam Cunningham (The Guard, Outcasts, etc), chewing the scenery with relish as IRA enforcer turned mercenary Daniel Connolly.

From "Strike Back" on Cinemax.

At least in episodes one through four, the Indian and South African settings are quite cinematic, while the stunt work and effects are all first class. Scott and Stonebridge deliver quite a bit of vicarious satisfaction, administering on the spot justice to Islamist fanatics and their craven accomplices that should be well worth returning for throughout the show’s run. Yet, if it loses sight of who the real bad guys are, sliding into the sort of moral equivalency frequently peddled by Hollywood, the show will alienate its core viewership – while those sharing such a hostile view of American and British military and intelligence personnel will likely be put off by the Jack Bauer tactics gleefully indulged in throughout each episode.

Strike Back could be flat-out great, so let’s hope it minimizes the clichéd conspiracy themes and plays to its strengths. This week, the totally entertaining first episode is definitely recommended when it debuts tonight (8/12) on Cinemax.

Posted on August 12th, 2011 at 12:06pm.

Kinkade & The Art Establishment

By David Ross. Every so often liberal big leaguers take a whack at Thomas Kinkade, the king of mall and mail-order art, the entrepreneurial painter laureate of what Jed Pearl calls “Wal-Mart America.” His depictions of gingerbread cottages nestled in what seem to be sleepy Cotswold hamlets are beloved by the masses and equally detested by people who consider themselves – by virtue of college degrees and the occasional glass of white wine with dinner – Blue State sophisticates. In 2001, Susan Orlean gave Kinkade the once-over in the New Yorker (see here), though she semi-restrained her snark on the grounds that Kinkade’s buffoonery speaks for itself. Pearl has now followed suit with an inchoate piece of hostility – titled “Bullshit Heaven” no less – in The New Republic. Extending the toilet metaphor, Pearl concludes that Kinkade has “urinated on us all.”

There’s no denying that Kinkade’s art is pure kitsch, a confection of Christmas-card nostalgia derived from Wordsworth at his most fey, Norman Rockwell at his most precious, and whoever first had the idea of painting and mass-producing scenes of beagles playing poker. His cotton-candy shire scenes look as if model trains should be running through them or Hobbits should be peeking from the windows. I would no more hang a Kinkade in my living room than a poster of Ashton Kutcher in the buff.

The blame is usually – okay, always – directed at putative yahoos who clamor for this kind of thing and create demand for what were better handled like dog poo in the street (quick condescending glance, wide berth). Articles about Kinkade are never really about Kinkade; they are about the people who buy Kinkade. Essentially, they license the readers of the New Yorker and The New Republic to look down on “Wal-Mart America” from a standpoint of cultural and aesthetic superiority. Their real substance, in other words, is Blue State-Red State politics.(I wonder, by the way, whether a film like Winter’s Bone doesn’t exploit the same condescension.) Continue reading Kinkade & The Art Establishment