Arlen Specter - The Wrinkled Saint of Change

There has been much hoopla regarding Arlen Specter's self-serving jump to the Democratic Party. Once Al Franken is seated, the Dems will have a filibuster-proof sixty seats. Hooray! Soon enough we can look forward to universal health care, green energy sources, federally sanctioned gay marriage, and a renaissance for strong unions. Hell, maybe we can even wrangle free college tuition and legalized marijuana out of this wonderfully unexpected gift. Who could have known that the second coming of Christ would manifest in the form of a Kansas-born, seventy-nine year old Jewish man who talks like Jimmy Stewart on heavy doses of codeine. Glory be!


If only half of the above were true. Specter's opportunist jump only robs progressives of an opportunity to have a real liberal in his seat come 2010. Specter made no secret of the fact that this was done primarily because he was unable to survive a Republican primary fight against a more conservative foe. His ability to win as an independent was also unlikely, but I bet he would have tried had the Dems not been so eager to court him, especially the White House. Let's take a look at the likely scenarios.

Scenario #1: Specter decides to give it a go in a primary fight. He loses to a staunch tea-bag loving conservative who stokes up the base with red meat anti-government rhetoric, criticizing Specter's vote for the Obama stimulus package. In a state that voted for Obama, has lost a ton of manufacturing jobs, and already has one Democratic senator, it is highly unlikely to see a hard-right conservative take the state.
Result: Dems win with "one of their own."

Scenario #2: Specter realizes he can't survive a primary and runs as an independent. Were this to happen, progressives could elect a gay atheist to the Dem ticket and still have a shot because the conservative and right-leaning independents would split leaving a Dem able to win with less than forty percent of the vote. A solidly progressive candidate would be a shoe-in.
Result: Dems win with a bona fide progressive.

Scenario #3: Specter bows out gracefully and lets some new blood take a shot. This would probably result in a moderate Democrat winning the primary (maybe even Chris Matthews - kind of scary, I know; but at least he was a Carter protege). I'll even give the Republicans the benefit of the doubt and say they might be wise enough to elect a moderate in the primary, though moderate conservatives are becoming increasingly rare creatures with each passing day. As stated in the first scenario, in a state that voted for Obama and continues to trend to the left, I have to think...
Result: Dems win with moderate progressive.

Instead, the Democratic Party, with unlimited support from the White House, will throw all of their resources at Specter to ensure his victories in both the primary and general elections. The result is a seat occupied for six more years by a man who vows steadfast adherence to anti-labor positions; supported Bush's authoritarian, anti-choice Supreme Court appointments; supported Bush as much as 76% of the time; and has proven his only loyalty is to his own self preservation (so watch out if the going gets tough for the White House.) Furthermore, Specter dilutes his more progressive counterparts in the Senate because Harry Reid has allowed him to retain his 26 years of seniority, suddenly putting him ahead of many "real" Dems for committee positions and such.

"Instead of waiting eighteen months for a true Pennsylvania progressive victory in 2010, the Dems prefer to saddle up an octogenarian Republican in a donkey suit."

So, this is a terribly short-sighted move for the Democratic party and a net loss for progressives as a whole. Instead of waiting eighteen months for a true Pennsylvania progressive victory in 2010, the Dems prefer to saddle up an octogenarian Republican in a donkey suit. Apparently, the thinking is that because sixty senators have a "D" next to their name, they will all vote in a monolithic block to support what ever the White House or Harry Reid propose. If so, that is profoundly foolish considering the many Blue Dog-type conservative Dems in the Senate who are already poised to heavily water down or even obstruct progressive plans for renewable energy, health care reform, and defense spending to name but a few. This simply reaffirms my fear of Obama's safe, centrist tendencies in a time that demands (and allows) bold, new action. Specter's wrinkled, sagging, zombie eyes are the result of almost three decades as a Washington insider on political autopilot. If this is supposed to be the face of "change," I find that a little hard to believe.

Thomas Friedman's Tortured Rationalizations

In today's paper, NY Times columnist Thomas Friedman says, "President Obama got it about as right as one could when he decided to ban the use of torture, to release the Bush torture memos for public scrutiny and to not prosecute the lawyers and interrogators who implemented the policy." So, now the man who championed the Bush administration's rush to war in Iraq wants to give them a free pass with respect to torture.

Friedman's rationale for ignoring the criminality of Bush Administration policy shows a lack of respect for American values bordering on contempt. He basically says that Bush, Rumsfeld, and other senior officials deserve prosecution, but to do so "would rip our country apart." Apparently, Friedman thinks we as a people are too weak to uphold our values and enforce our laws. I mean, is our republic really strong enough to withstand Sean Hannity, Rush Limbaugh, and Glenn Beck fueling a civil war? Better not to risk it, right, Mr. Friedman?

Friedman spends most of his column, however, claiming that Al Queda is so uniquely evil and unreasonable, what with their suicide bombings, beheadings, and such that war with them was bound to be "deeply confounding". In the face of such "confounding" evil, one can forgive a little torture or even the 27 detainee homocides mentioned earlier in the column. After all, Mr. Friedman believes that "a vast majority of Americans would have told the government (and still will): 'Do whatever it takes,'" had their been another 9/11. Perhaps that's true. But isn't that the very reason we have laws, Mr. Friedman, to provide dispassionate guidance in times of turmoil and crisis? Is Al Queda really such a "unique enemy" that our laws, morals, and values are inadequate?

Friedman closes his column with this:

So, yes, people among us who went over the line may go unpunished, because we still have enemies who respect no lines at all. In such an ugly war, you do your best. That’s what President Obama did.

This is our "best" response to war crimes - limited disclosure of a few documents? I still believe that most Americans have higher ethical standards than Mr. Friedman seems to, despite his and others' efforts to simply ignore the stench of the dirty laundry they helped to soil.

Hunger - Film Review

Hunger is the feature film debut of director Steve McQueen. This is not, however, the film of a novice. One immediately feels the confident tone of this film, and it doesn’t take long to appreciate that this is a movie made by a visual artist (McQueen is an accomplished artist and the 1999 recipient of Britain’s esteemed Turner Prize.) The film revolves around the 1981 Irish Hunger Strike with a particular focus on the man who organized the strike, IRA soldier Bobby Sands (Michael Fassbender.) This is not a film with the usual trappings of a biopic or historical film, though. We are not inundated with historical context, back-stories, and “significant anecdotes” about the characters’ lives. Instead, the audience is simply asked to bear witness to what occurs on the screen.



The film offers very little dialogue with the exception of one scene, a conversation between Sands and priest Father Moran (Liam Cunningham.) The conversation is almost twenty minutes long, was shot in a single take with no edits, and the camera hardly moves from the two characters sitting across a table from one another. The result is a scene that is at once incredibly indulgent and profoundly restrained. This paradox between indulgence and restraint is the essence of the film, and, perhaps, is also an apt description of using the self-inflicted deterioration of one’s body as a violent political weapon.

"This paradox between indulgence and restraint is the essence of the film, and, perhaps, is also an apt description of using the self-inflicted deterioration of one’s body as a violent political weapon."

In shot after shot, scene after scene, McQueen employs a deliberate patience. The silence in the film and the slow, often static camera somehow manage to become enrapturing rather than boring. The director said in an interview that the silence in Hunger “gives the audience room to be part of the film.” That might not have meant much to me prior to seeing the film, but after viewing I understand what he means. Rather than being told by the director how to feel or what to think, the audience can really explore and interact with the material on screen. The result is a much more personal experience as a viewer, in the same way that reading a novel is a collaboration of sorts between reader and material.

Before I give the impression that this film is simply a quiet meditation on a bygone historical period, I should acknowledge that this particular history is one of violence and suffering. Ninety percent of Hunger takes place in a prison. Almost all interactions between guard and prisoner involve violence, humiliation, and intimidation, all of which are explored in graphic detail on screen. The goal is not to titillate or repulse, however.

"Hunger offers the viewer a more personal experience, in the same way that reading a novel is a collaboration of sorts between reader and material."

Hunger is, in fact, a quiet meditation, but a meditation on very disquieting subjects. This is precisely what lends the movie its power; it invites the audience to thoughtfully contemplate difficult, painful subjects instead of cleverly dictating its own singular point of view. To eschew condescension or, at least, insistence is rare enough in the world of filmmaking, but the humility of Hunger is especially scarce in the realm of historical dramas. Hunger is not a history lesson masquerading as a film. It is an emotional exploration that might inspire those less familiar with its subject matter to want to learn more.

State of Play - Film Review

I just left the theater after seeing State of Play, the political thriller directed by Kevin McDonald (The Last King of Scotland) and starring Russell Crowe, Rachel McAdams, and Ben Affleck. The film was based on a BBC produced mini-series of the same title. To be honest, I went into the theater with low expectations having rented the BBC mini-series because I had heard it described as a British version of the HBO television masterpiece, The Wire. While the mini-series had some great moments and great elements (especially Bill Nighy's performance as the Editor-In-Chief of a London daily newspaper), overall I was underwhelmed by the show. It was certainly no rival to The Wire, which remains in my mind the best television show ever produced in the history of the medium. So, when my lukewarm reception to the BBC version was coupled with some very mediocre reviews for this new theatrical release, I wasn't terribly excited to see it. I expected a pat, uninspired version of decent-at-best source material. I was wrong.

"State of Play is equal parts love letter and eulogy to the fading art of journalism and the creative fictions it has inspired."

The story revolves primarily around three characters - a daily newspaper journalist, Cal McAffrey (Crowe), his younger, less experienced colleague, Della Frye (McAdams), and Stephen Collins (Affleck), a United States Congressman. In short, a scandal develops around Congressman Collins which involves sex, money, corporate espionage, and military profiteering. The story becomes more complicated when we learn that Cal has a personal history and friendship with the troubled Congressman, leading to conflicts of interest and questions of personal, professional, and ethical loyalty.

As you might expect, Russell Crowe is charged with playing the brooding, dogged journalist seeking to unravel a complicated web of deceit and duplicity. However, Crowe never succumbs to the furrowed-brow brooding which all too often passes for on screen intensity today (yes, I'm talking to you, Mr. DiCaprio.) His is a fully fleshed out character deftly tap dancing between hard boiled intrigue, rogue selfishness, and rough-edged charisma. Those are all traits that one must surely possess to achieve success in a cutthroat industry known chiefly for its dueling traits of self-righteousness and cynicism. McAdams turns in a respectable performance as the inexperienced newbie reporter (make that blogger) fighting for respect from the jaded Cal who resents what the blogging journalist represents to old-fashioned shoe-leather reporting. Affleck is also merely respectable as the embattled congressman fighting for his political life. Neither Affleck nor McAdams can ever match the fluid intensity of Crowe, which is one problem that keeps this really good film from being great. In the case of McAdams, I think she was was the victim of writing which offered few opportunities to do more that react to the flourishes of Crowe's protagonist. The only person who seemed equally matched on screen with Crowe was Robin Wright Penn as Anne Collins, the wife of the scandal-ridden Congressman . Wright Penn's quiet embodiment of the ubiquitous humiliated politician's wife was a needed human texture in the film's expansive political canvas. Helen Mirren was often fun to watch as the newspaper's Editor-in-Chief, but, like McAdams, seemed relegated to a one or two note performance. She had little opportunity to do more than vacillate between expressions of exasperation with either her sanctimonious reporters demanding time and resources or her corporate chieftains demanding money and profit. In fact, the crisis of contemporary journalism was the ever present subtext in this film.

I somewhere heard a critique of this film that accused it of wanting to be All the President's Men in an era where heroic journalism no longer applies. I could not disagree more. State of Play is dramatically aware of this history and, if anything, is equal parts love letter and eulogy to the fading art of journalism and the creative fictions it has inspired. McAdams' entire character arc is a nod to the decline of journalism and much of the film's diagloge and imagery expresses a melancholy point of view regarding the current state of reporting. In fact, I thought this film cleverly alluded to political realities without succumbing to ham-fisted speeches by its characters lecturing the audience (OK, maybe a line or two dipped its toe in those waters but never did the film take the full plunge.) One ingenious moment was a cleverly placed portrait of Dwight D. Eisenhower in the office of Affleck's fictional Congressman. Military profiteering is central to the film's plot, and is part of the scandal surrounding Affleck's character. As is well-known to history buffs and fans of the great documentary Why We Fight, Eisenhower used his last presidential address to warn against a looming military-industrial complex. Seeing his portrait in the Congressman's office offered clues regarding the character's motives and loyalties at a key moment in the film but was employed to very subtle effect. There were several other winks and nods throughout the film that will certainly be enjoyed by political buffs and news junkies. These devices never draw too much attention to themselves, and it's when director McDonald and the film's three screenwriters employ restraint that the movie is most effective.

Speaking of restraint, this film had a run time of 127 minutes, whereas the BBC series comprised almost six hours. The danger of these abridged adaptations is that they often result in broad-brushed renderings lacking the nuance and complexity of the original, only to be replaced by eye roll-inducing exposition. In the case of McDonald's State of Play, the result was a better-paced and more taut version of the original. In fact, perhaps that was the trouble with the BBC version. It spent hours and hours trying to develop characters unnecessarily instead of realizing that at its heart, this is a plot driven story. McDonald seemed to realize as much and trimmed the fat while still leaving enough juice in the important characters for a very respectable and very watchable film.