A Blog of My Own

Here’s what some of the pundits don’t get about the Sarah Palin pick. They’re having fun with her inexperience, her “it’s nice to see a different part of the country” when she speaks in Pennsylvania, her “I’m going to have to bone up on Iraq,” etc. They don’t get that her extraordinarily quick rise, her inexperience, and even her naivete (if such it is), far from being handicaps, are the very things that make her the Frank Capra Mr. Smith/Mr. Deeds hero. Or remember Dave from 1993? In which Kevin Kline (who runs a temp agency) becomes President of the United States because of his resemblance to the real one? And how he turns out to be great, a much better president than his doppelganger? Sure, those were all just movies. But they were powerful movies, because they evoked our American mythology—the ordinary Joe as redeemer—in the same way Palin does. Can you not just see Jimmy Stewart as Mr. Smith telling Pennsylvanians, “It’s nice to see a different part of the country?” I can.

She appears, at this early stage, to be the Capra archetype—underqualified by “establishment” measures, but a person of the people, possessed of integrity, goodness, internal strength, and a commitment to values (even if you don’t share all of them) that collectively trump conventional qualifications.

Her speedy rise (mayor of Wassila, Alaska, pop. 7000, only a few years ago; then suddenly, governor of Alaska) is evidence of her inexperience, but the bad news (if you’re a Democrat) is that it also shows that the people who know her really, really like her.

As a Democrat, I’m concerned.

This is not a replay of “I’m for George Bush because I can have a beer with him.” That was bogus. Bush was never that guy; his biography made that plain. Sarah Palin, on the other hand, is a genuine Frank Capra movie come to life. And even though it’s scary to imagine her a heartbeat from the presidency, her Capraness could make her formidable. As I recall, Mr. Smith came to Washington from Idaho. If there’s a state that out-Idahos Idaho, it could only be Alaska. Besides which, Idaho? That’s where Sarah Palin was born.

P.S. Not all the pundits have missed the point. After writing the above, I went to The Huffington Post, where I see that Arianna sees the problem as well.

Picking someone we like—it’s the ultimate Republican dirty trick.

The best way I can think to sum up last night is that the world seems a different place this morning than yesterday. Not necessarily a happier place, or a more hopeful place–but definitely a transformed place.

The last time the world changed so quickly was almost exactly seven years ago–on September 11. It took seven years for an answer to that, but it came last night. It wasn’t joyous. It was serious. Desperately serious. And frightening in its sheer scale, almost as frightening as the earlier event it seemed in answer to. There was a madness about the enormity of last night, but the hope (if there is one) is that in a world already gone mad, only a response of equal and opposite madness can lead us out.

Michelle Obama’s convention speech was a failure in one way, and a grand success in another.

As an attempt to erase the unfortunate aftertaste of that “first time I’m really proud to be an American” remark, it was too transparently calculated to be convincing. If I can see the ropes and pulleys behind last night’s “that is why I love this country”—and I can—then by definition it is unsuccessful as an act of contrition.

However, if you view her speech not as an attempt to persuade anyone of her real convictions, or to present her true self, but rather as an audition for the role of First Lady, it was a stunning success. You could see her as First Lady. She’ll be charming. She’s smart. She’s assertive. Stylish. She has a sense of humor. She’ll be an inspiring example at home, and a great ambassador abroad. You know you can enjoy her in the role for the next four years. Okay, done. The audition was an unqualified success. And the daughters she’s bringing along as part of the deal—they’re great, too.

Good auditions are what we want, not just from our potential first ladies but from our prospective presidents. This isn’t a campaign that’s happening now. It’s a quadrennial national casting session we conduct. And that doesn’t make it superficial. When you cast a movie, everything rides on your choice; will you end up with the blockbuster of the summer, or will your movie go straight to Blockbuster? 90% is in the casting.

We look at candidates and we ask ourselves, “Hmm, can I see him in the part? If I project a few months out, and envision this guy taking the oath of office, do I feel good? Does it feel right, imagining the things this guy will say in his State of the Union addresses? Most crucial of all, do I see a happy ending to America’s movie because of him, and will I want a sequel?” This is not a bad way to choose a president, and it’s a good thing that it’s not, because it’s what we do.

Since our candidates are actors in audition, we don’t ask them to believe the words they are saying. That is irrelevant. We only ask that they make a good show of believing the words they are saying.

As far as I’m concerned, Michelle Obama’s got the part. Next.

In case you find it as useful as I did, here’s a link to the nightly schedule of the Democratic National Convention this week.

I’ll be watching Michelle Obama’s speech tonight, along with Caroline Kennedy’s introduction of a film about her uncle.

(Don’t you love the stage? It reminds me of the opening of a 20th Century Fox film—in CinemaScope®!)

Sometime in the last 24 hours, this blog crossed the 25,000 mark in views since it began a year and a half ago. It took about a year to reach 10,000, so the fact that it took just six months more to climb by another 15,000 marks a nice trend. Thanks, readers.

Whatever law it is that makes the candidates say at the end of their spots, “I’m X, and I approved this message,” is a good law. Because it means that every time a manipulative, cynical attack ad runs from the McCain campaign—like the new one that has the nerve to attack Obama for not picking Hillary as his veep—John McCain has to say, at the end of it, “I’m John McCain, and I approved this message.” And hearing those words, in McCain’s own voice, should inevitably lead people to ask him, in the ringing words of Joseph Welch, “Have you no sense of decency, sir? At long last, have you left no sense of decency?”

All the hullabaloo over Tropic Thunder (well-deserved, by the way—it’s a sensation, which elevates Ben Stiller to a new level of movie stardom, and ought to earn Oscar nominations for Stiller in the direction and screenwriting categories, and best-supporting-actor nominations for Jack Black and Robert Downey, Jr.) reminds me to mention a very good movie I netflixed recently.

Zero Effect, from 1998, was Jake Kasdan’s first directorial effort (which is why I rented it—I’m an admirer of his screenwriting and directing work), and stars Bill Pullman as Daryl Zero, a kind of modern-day Sherlock Holmes with very bad OCD. Stiller is his Watson, and Kim Dickens (Joanie from the Bella Union in Deadwood) rounds out the excellent leading cast. If you remember Cutter’s Way (1981) with fondness, I think you’ll like Zero Effect. Zero is lighter and funnier, somewhere between a modern comedy and a film noir, but (thanks be praised) it is not a “send-up” of any genre. It wants to be its own movie, and it is. While you are never far away from the next laugh, smile, or brain-tickle, a river of melancholy runs through it that lends the movie emotional weight. Stiller gives a good, nuanced performance, not at all a “high concept comedy” performance. The movie is an interesting hybrid, and, if not 100% artistically successful, is good enough to be worth your time. I’d place it near the top of all I’ve rented in the last year.

What is the difference between “Crude Humor” and “Rude Humor”? Which is more offensive? I’ll be damned if I know. And I’ll be double-damned if anyone else does. These are but two of the terms the MPAA board attaches to its letter-ratings in order to support its decisions—or, perhaps, to provide extra guidance. Clearly, it is failing to achieve either goal.

And just why did the movie above (whatever it was) earn a PG-13 for “Irreverent Humor Throughout”? Is humor that reveres authority the only kind our young children may be exposed to without caution? Good thing Bugs Bunny isn’t around to see this.

Another favorite stupid warning of mine is “Thematic Elements.” What the hell is that supposed to mean? Why is that even a warning? I actually prefer all my movies with thematic elements, thank you—otherwise, they’re two hours of random meaninglessness.

Or this one: “Language.” Haven’t most movies since the arrival of sound contained language? For that matter, even silent films did, on title cards. Again, I generally prefer my movies to have language, and don’t get why the presence of it is a red flag.

I’ve been railing about this for years to anyone who would listen (or pretend to). Now, Michael Phillips in the Chicago Tribune is railing about it, too.

Everyone’s asking, “Why, with an economy in the tank, a war everyone hates, and an incumbent Republican president loved only by his mother (and maybe not her), is Barack Obama not soundly thrashing John McCain in the polls? How can they actually be tied?”

But Jim Dyer asks the question, “Doesn’t it seem weird that a white guy running as a war hero in a militaristic state can’t put the black guy away?”

Good question.