©2012 By ILANA MERCER
Purely from an aesthetic point of view, actress Julianne Moore has no business playing Governor Sarah Palin, as she does in the HBO film, “Game Change.” I thought the idea of film was to be as true as possible to the reality portrayed. Moore is an attractive version of Sarah Ferguson, the Duchess of York. In a word, unattractive.
Whatever your opinion of Sarah Palin’s politics—and I’m no fan of her political appearances—it is undeniable that she is a beauty, blessed with a fine, facial bone structure and beautiful features. The eyes are alive. In physicality, Palin is stunning. (The beauty)
Moore, on the other hand, looks like a Flat-Head Syndrome sufferer (Plagiocephaly). The back of the cranium is, well, flat, the forehead slopes, the mouth—the entire face—is decidedly weak. The eyes are lifeless. As for her acting; Moore is merely passable. (The beast)
Palin’s face is strong; Moore’s mug weak.
For the character she attempts to portray Moore has little affection, and has disparaged Palin in interviews. Such is the power and prestige with which Americans have bestowed their lowly entertainers—that members of the sect, Moore included, feel quite comfortable carrying forth like philosopher kings.
Hollywood had its Golden Age, back when well-written scripts reflected well-developed, multi-faceted characters. Today, Tinseltown is a monolithic, left-liberal automaton, marching in thematic unison, and subjecting the viewer to the same impoverished, error-riddled, preachy themes.
The evidence is in. Activism and abreaction have replaced acting, and sermons have supplanted stories in the repertoire of the pretty, pea-brained community.
A giant digit wagging above a captive audience: that’s Hollywood.
The conservative-minded masochist comes to the cinema fully prepared to confront and forfeit his “fascist” sympathies. For example, in the 2008 flick “Conspiracy,” the battle is between the forces of absolute evil and pure good, in the border state of another “evil” governor. Representing the open-border sensibility is Val Kilmer, a superhuman, super-good, Iraq war veteran. Standing in for the border-control, stark-raving crazies is an all-American, Arian, gang of war-profiteering developers.
Yet, in book-after-book, the “conservative” case against Hollywood consists, mainly, in reiterating the facts of this faction’s liberalism. Unless a protagonist is against G-d or for abortion, conservatives are culturally deaf to the piffle spewed by the pea-brained community.
What do I mean?
On a meta-level, Hollywood’s “angels and demons” productions have helped create a parallel universe willingly inhabited by our countrymen, conservative and liberal alike. Consider the gender junk percepts. Did not the commentariat, conservatives and liberals, come together over Sen. Rick Santorum’s so-called archaic ideas on the place of women in the fighting force?
Accordingly, with enough will-power, an 80-pound waif will wallop a 200-pound gangster, sustaining no punctures to the silicone sacks. Her hulking cop partner is made to trot after the Great Woman obediently, stepping in to save the day only when stilettoes on the job, and a lack of physical prowess impede crime- and firefighting.
In the tradition of men-are-buffoons; women-are-brawny-and-brainy narrative, AMC’s “The Killing” normalizes the dysfunctional life of a morose midget of a female detective. In his all-too-human struggles, her male partner is depicted as no more than an out-of-place brute.
Beyond showcasing America’s Xbox, special effects, language-less movie culture at its reality-averse, atavistic best, “Salt” the film, like almost every cop series on TV, transmits this feminist fairytale. As a CIA agent, hemorrhoidal lips and come-hither looks are Angelina Jolie’s stock-in-trade. She struts her stuff in a skirt slit up to her panties, which she promptly removes to make an underwear bomb.
As much as their liberal counterparts do, conservative commentators promote this feminist farce.
THE CANONIZATION OF KIDS. Hollywood deifies America’s kids, who, in reality, have never been dumber. Kids are Hollywood’s new Noble Savages. In his role as sage in short pants, it is the duty of the long-suffering youngster to guide and correct the older dolts in his life. In real life—and with the exception of the religious, homeschooled cohort—the progeny of the crunchy-conservative is every bit as obnoxious and narcissistic as the offspring of his liberal counterpart.
As are prominent conservatives equally engrossed with slut and celebrity. As a result, they don’t seem particularly keen on supporting quality cultural products. Nor are conservatives serious about discouraging the pea-brained community’s quest for undue political influence. If they were, they’d write Hollywood off—they’d stop flirting with its phony fools and begging them to grace their shows and panels.
And they’d certainly quit patronizing or purchasing the crappy cultural products this jet set disgorges.