Sprint TV spots: Weird, funny, confusing and maybe stupid, but funny, too

WTF! What are these guys saying?

Even though they will be indecipherable to 99.9% of the audience, they make you laugh due to the sheer outrageousness of putting up two cinematic icons to feign-act some gibberish. Talk about the seductions of corporate power, especially when it comes to padding up the bank accounts of fading stars.  Below, a review by the folks at CHUD.com. See what you think. It’s all happening, it’s all part of the culture we live in.—PG

Malcolm McDowell and James Earl Jones for Sprint

WRITTEN BY

POSTED ON 11.10.2013

sprint-McDowell

In case you missed it, Sprint has developed an oddball marketing campaign aimed at fans of Star Wars and A Clockwork Orange. What we have here is an awkward series of commercials featuring two of the best vocal presences from films of the last fifty years. We all know that Malcolm McDowell and James Earl Jones have had their fair share of terrible roles in movies that should have never been made, but that does not change the fact that these two are responsible for some of the most memorable characters and quotes in modern cinema.

Sprint is arguably one of the worst cellular service providers in the states. Instead of focussing their efforts on internal issues such as terrible customer service, corrupt corporate policies and contracts that are written to scam customers, the company has decided that funding a bizarre series of ads that try too hard and are embarrassing to watch is worthwhile. Have a look a these two great actors as they stand on a blank stage in front of chairs, while wearing tuxes and reciting unbelievably asinine dialogue. When you’re done I strongly recommend having a few drinks and watching Time After Time and Conan the Barbarian. Cheers!




A CEO Who Mattered

The Jolting Peter Lewis
by RALPH NADER
peterLewis

Insurance, art, architecture, civil liberties, auto safety, think tanks, peace, free thinkers, political candidates, marijuana, his alma mater Princeton University — these and other varied interests drove the inquiring career of the late Peter Lewis, chairman of the board of Progressive Insurance, who passed away at age 80 last month.

He interacted with many people who sparked his sense of the “unconventionally possible” as he built Progressive into the nation’s fourth largest auto insurer and made himself into one of the nation’™s leading philanthropists.

Peter was my classmate at Princeton. More than 25 years ago, I suggested he equip his company cars with air bags, both to prevent costly crash injuries to his employees and also to set an example for other insurance companies to give meaning to their “loss prevention” rhetoric. At lunch, he grasped the suggestion immediately and agreed. When I called for a progress report, he casually said it was done, as if to say, what else did you expect?

I never expected much in talking to corporate chiefs about what they should do in their own and the public’™s interest. In my experience, they had difficulty listening to anything not on their bureaucratic wavelength. With Peter it was different, and not because of any Princeton connection.

For example, he heard about my remarks that insurance companies were not engaged in meaningful competition. On a trip to Washington, D.C., we had lunch and he said that the big auto insurers compete like crazy. “œWhat do you mean?” he asked.

progressiveInsurI replied that State Farm, Allstate, Geico, Progressive, etc. competed against each other in ads, marketing, sales incentives and imagery, but not directly for the consumers’™ benefit. I explained that it was almost impossible for the average customer to compare policies and prices between the various companies. His eyes lit up. It wasn’™t long before the famously successful Progressive ads were offering free competitors’™ rates, including Progressive’s, even if the latter was higher than one or more of the other auto insurers.

Other proposals he thought about and turned down. One that he considered too complicated was for Progressive to build a few prototype safety cars in order to push the auto companies to liberate their engineers and build more crash-worthy vehicles with better handling and therefore fewer claims. This idea stemmed from the pioneering Liberty Mutual Insurance Co. project in the 1950s when it rebuilt a much safer Chevrolet.

However, in the early ’90s, Peter made sure Progressive was a financial supporter of the effective new group Advocates for Highway and Auto Safety.

Another proposal was to fund organizers who would convince coalitions in major cities across the country to demand that presidential debates come to their communities in 2012. This would break the grip of the three “œdebates” choreographed by the Republican and the Democratic parties, through their creation, the Commission on Presidential Debates (CPD). CPD is a private nonprofit that picks the reporters, invites only candidates from its two patron parties and solicits corporate donations for its budget. Peter “œloved the idea,” but after considerable back and forth, concluded it was not possible to pull it off.

Peter was deeply serious about civil liberties and worried about invasions of privacy, repression of dissenting views and government snooping in the aftermath of 9/11. He became the largest individual donor to the American Civil Liberties Union, with a record-breaking endowment gift of $7 million. He hated President George W. Bush’s invasion of Iraq, which he called “a disaster in all ways,” and funded civic opposition, including ours, to this worsening, brutal quagmire.

As a prominent Democrat, he supported John Kerry’™s presidential campaign with many millions of dollars. After Bush’s re-election and Kerry’s wishy-washy performance in 2004, he told me he was pretty much turned off of political campaigns.

He became “œmore focused on building the institutions that will facilitate and support progressive policy for years into the future.” As was his wont, he went beyond by helping launch Media Matters and the Center for American Progress, and was the founder of the Management Center, which conducts seminars to help nonprofits be more efficient and effective.

Once Peter joked that before joining the Princeton University Board of Trustees, the due diligence report called him a “œfunctional pothead.” Yet to my knowledge, he was known for promptly returning calls. He suffered pain — his leg was amputated below the knee due to chronic infection and poor circulation — but rarely exclaimed it. Instead he responded by becoming physically fit.

As a major patron of the arts from his hometown in Cleveland to New York City and elsewhere, he saw artists as making people view their surroundings through innovative, irreverent eyes. At Progressive’™s headquarters, he hung Andy Warhol’™s “œMao” portraits and relished the anger of some employees, noting that at least they were stimulated.

Whenever I asked him how business was, he would talk about how “œterrific” his successor — New Zealander Glenn Renwick — was as CEO, before noting some new approach like “œinstant claims service.”

Occasionally he expressed disappointment about his and other charitable and political contributions not getting results. “I’m at the edge of despair” about the state of the country, he confessed several years ago.

That disappointment, bordering on resignation, seemed to come forth during a discussion I arranged at the New York Public Library with Peter and Ted Turner, two of the protagonists in my book, “Only the Super-Rich Can Save Us!” — a work of political fiction that could inspire real world change. He began to doubt whether any major proposals for change could break through.

But Peter had so many irons in the fire that he always found sources of resiliency. And he liked to shock people out of their comfort zone. Earlier this year, he relayed a conversation that he had with the new president of Princeton, Christopher L. Eisgruber, wherein he urged the Princeton football program be dropped. Even though Peter is Princeton’s largest benefactor in the modern era ($220 million), he may have stepped out of bounds on that one. Which is just what the boundary-breaker expected, to turn silence now into conversation later.

Peter Lewis put so many forces in motion that his beloved extended family need not wonder about a legacy. They grieve through the enlivening presences, futures and memories he gave them. He leaves behind a candid forthcoming autobiography that should show how he kept evolving and renewing himself to the benefit of many people.

Ralph Nader is a consumer advocate, lawyer and author of Only the Super-Rich Can Save Us! He is a contributor to Hopeless: Barack Obama and the Politics of Illusion, published by AK Press. Hopeless is also available in a Kindle edition.




The Real Mandela Behind All the Media Noise—a Special Dossier

mandelaCell

Besides the essays in this dossier, please see also: The Mandela Years in Power

1

Victorious Over Apartheid, Defeated by Neoliberalism

Mandela: a Dissenting Opinion

by JONATHAN COOK, Counterpunch

Nazareth.

Offering a dissenting opinion at this moment of a general outpouring of grief at Nelson Mandela’s death is not likely to court popularity. It is also likely to be misunderstood.

So let me start by recognising Mandela’s huge achievement in helping to bring down South African apartheid, and make clear my enormous respect for the great personal sacrifices he made, including spending so many years caged up for his part in the struggle to liberate his people. These are things impossible to forget or ignore when assessing someone’s life.

Nonetheless, it is important to pause during the widespread acclamation of his legacy, mostly by people who have never demonstrated a fraction of his integrity, to consider a lesson that most observers want to overlook.

Perhaps the best way to make my point is to highlight a mock memo written in 2001 by Arjan el-Fassed, from Nelson Mandela to the NYT’s columnist Thomas Friedman. It is a wonderful, humane denunciation of Friedman’s hypocrisy and a demand for justice for the Palestinians that Mandela should have written. [http://www.keghart.com/Mandela-Palestine]

Soon afterwards, the memo spread online, stripped of el-Fassed’s closing byline. Many people, including a few senior journalists, assumed it was written by Mandela and published it as such. It seemed they wanted to believe that Mandela had written something as morally clear-sighted as this about another apartheid system, an Israeli one that is at least the equal of that imposed for decades on black South Africans.

However, the reality is that it was not written by Mandela, and his staff even went so far as to threaten legal action against the author.

[pullquote]Mandela was rehabilitated into an “elder statesman” in return for South Africa being rapidly transformed into an outpost of neoliberalism, prioritising the kind of economic apartheid most of us in the west are getting a strong dose of now.[/pullquote]

Mandela spent most his adult life treated as a “terrorist”. There was a price to be paid for his long walk to freedom, and the end of South Africa’s system of racial apartheid. Mandela was rehabilitated into an “elder statesman” in return for South Africa being rapidly transformed into an outpost of neoliberalism, prioritising the kind of economic apartheid most of us in the west are getting a strong dose of now.

In my view, Mandela suffered a double tragedy in his post-prison years.

First, he was reinvented as a bloodless icon, one that other leaders could appropriate to legitimise their own claims, as the figureheads of the “democratic west”, to integrity and moral superiority. After finally being allowed to join the western “club”, he could be regularly paraded as proof of the club’s democratic credentials and its ethical sensibility.

Second, and even more tragically, this very status as icon became a trap in which he was required to act the “responsible” elder statesman, careful in what he said and which causes he was seen to espouse. He was forced to become a kind of Princess Diana, someone we could be allowed to love because he rarely said anything too threatening to the interests of the corporate elite who run the planet.

It is an indication of what Mandela was up against that the man who fought so hard and long against a brutal apartheid regime was so completely defeated when he took power in South Africa. That was because he was no longer struggling against a rogue regime but against the existing order, a global corporate system of power that he had no hope of challenging alone.

It is for that reason, rather simply to be contrarian, that I raise these failings. Or rather, they were not Mandela’s failings, but ours. Because, as I suspect Mandela realised only too well, one cannot lead a revolution when there are no followers.

For too long we have slumbered through the theft and pillage of our planet and the erosion of our democratic rights, preferring to wake only for the release of the next iPad or smart phone.

The very outpouring of grief from our leaders for Mandela’s loss helps to feed our slumber. Our willingness to suspend our anger this week, to listen respectfully to those watery-eyed leaders who forced Mandela to reform from a fighter into a notable, keeps us in our slumber. Next week there will be another reason not to struggle for our rights and our grandchildren’s rights to a decent life and a sustainable planet. There will always be a reason to worship at the feet of those who have no real power but are there to distract us from what truly matters.

No one, not even a Mandela, can change things by him or herself. There are no Messiahs on their way, but there are many false gods designed to keep us pacified, divided and weak.

Jonathan Cook won the Martha Gellhorn Special Prize for Journalism. His latest books are “Israel and the Clash of Civilisations: Iraq, Iran and the Plan to Remake the Middle East” (Pluto Press) and “Disappearing Palestine: Israel’s Experiments in Human Despair” (Zed Books).  His new website is www.jonathan-cook.net.

2

Mandela’s Disturbing Legacy

by Stephen Lendman

On December 5, Mandela died peacefully at home in Johannesburg. Cause of death was respiratory failure. He was 95.  Supporters called him a dreamer of big dreams. His legacy fell woefully short. More on that below.

The Nelson Mandela Foundation, Nelson Mandela Children’s Fund, and Mandela Rhodes Foundation issued the following statement:

“It is with the deepest regret that we have learned of the passing of our founder, Nelson Rolihlahla Mandela – Madiba. The Presidency of the Republic of South Africa will shortly make further official announcements. We want to express our sadness at this time. No words can adequately describe this enormous loss to our nation and to the world. We give thanks for his life, his leadership, his devotion to humanity and humanitarian causes. We salute our friend, colleague and comrade and thank him for his sacrifices for our freedom. The three charitable organisations that he created dedicate ourselves to continue promoting his extraordinary legacy.”

He’ll be buried according to his wishes in Qunu village. It’s where he grew up. In 1943, he joined the African National Congress (ANC). He co-founded its Youth League.  He defended what he later called Thatcherism. On trial for alleged Sabotage Act violations, he said in court:

“The ANC has never at any period of its history advocated a revolutionary change in the economic structure of the country, nor has it, to the best of my recollection, ever condemned capitalist society.”

In 1964, he was sentenced to life in prison. He was mostly incarcerated on Robben Island. It’s in Table Bay. It’s around 7km offshore from Cape Town. In February 1990, he was released. In 1993, he received the Nobel Peace Prize jointly with South African President FW de Klerk.

Nobel Committee members said it was “for their work for the peaceful termination of the apartheid regime, and for laying the foundations for a new democratic South Africa.”  De Klerk enforced the worst of apartheid ruthlessness. In 1994, Mandela was elected president. He served from May 1994 – June 1999.

Apartheid Did Not Die” documentary followed.  “Behind the modern face of democracy, the scourges of inequality, unemployment and homelessness persist,” he said.

White supremacy remained unchanged. It’s no different today. A few blacks share wealth, power and privilege. The vast majority of black society is worse off than under apartheid. Mandela embraced the worst of neoliberal harshness. His successors follow the same model. Pilger posed tough questions. He asked Mandela how ANC freedom fighting ended up embracing Thatcherism.

Mandela responded saying:

“You can put any label on it you like. You can call it Thatcherite but, for this country, privatization is the fundamental policy.”

Pilger discovered that 80% of South African children suffered poor health. One-fourth under age six were ill nourished. During Mandela’s tenure, more South Africans died from malnutrition and preventable diseases than under apartheid.  Concentrated wealth is more extreme than ever. White farmers control over 80% of agricultural land. They dominate choicest areas. Pilger said about one-fourth of South Africa’s budget goes for interest on odious debt.

He explained how five major corporations control over three-fourths of business interests. They dominate South African life.

Concentrated wealth and power are extreme. Whites control about 90% of national wealth. A select few black businessmen, politicians and trade union leaders benefit with them. The dominant Anglo-American Corporation is hugely exploitive. Gold mining exacts an enormous human cost.

Pilger said one death and 12 serious injuries accompany each ton of gold mined. One-third of workers contract deadly lung disease. They’re left on their own to suffer and die. Post-apartheid democracy reflects the worst of free market capitalism. It’s bereft of freedom. Reform denies it.

Mandela’s “unbreakable promise” was forgotten. In 1990, two weeks before freed from prison, he said:

“The nationalization of the mines, banks and monopoly industries is the policy of the ANC (and changing) our views…is inconceivable. Black economic empowerment is a goal we fully support and encourage, but in our situation state control of certain sectors of the economy is unavoidable.”

In 1955, ANC’s Freedom Charter declared “South Africa belongs to all who live in it, black and white, and that no government can justly claim authority unless it is based on the will of all the people.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Stephen Lendman lives in Chicago. He can be reached at lendmanstephen@sbcglobal.net.   His new book is titled “Banker Occupation: Waging Financial War on Humanity.” 

http://www.claritypress.com/LendmanII.html // Visit his blog site at sjlendman.blogspot.com. 

____________________

3

Why imperialism mourns Mandela

Bill Van Auken, wsws.org

The death of Nelson Mandela at the age of 95 has touched off a worldwide exercise in official mourning that is virtually without precedent.

No doubt working people in South Africa and internationally pay tribute to the courage and sacrifice demonstrated by the African National Congress leader—as well as thousands of others who lost their lives and freedom—during his long years of illegality, persecution and imprisonment under the hated Apartheid regime.

Capitalist governments and the corporate-controlled media the world over, however, have rushed to offer condolences for their own reasons. These include heads of states that supported South Africa’s apartheid rule and aided in the capture and imprisonment of Mandela as a “terrorist” half a century ago.

Barack Obama, who presides over the horrors of Guantanamo and a US prison system that holds over 1.5 million behind bars, issued a statement in which he declared himself “one of the countless millions who drew inspiration” from the man who spent 27 years on Robben Island.

British Prime Minister David Cameron, the standard-bearer of the right-wing Tory Party, ordered the flag flown at half-mast outside 10 Downing Street and proclaimed Mandela “a towering figure in our time, a legend in life and now in death—a true global hero.”

Billionaires like Michael Bloomberg, who ordered flags in New York City lowered, and Bill Gates felt compelled to issue their own statements.

What is noteworthy in the sanctimonious blather served up by the media on the occasion of Mandela’s death is the way in which a man whose life is inextricably bound up with the history and politics of South Africa is turned into an entirely apolitical icon, a plaster saint embodying, in the words of Obama, “being guided not by hate, but by love.”

What is it that the capitalist oligarchs in country after country really mourn in the death of Mandela? It is clearly not his will to resist an oppressive system—that is something they are all prepared to punish with imprisonment or drone missile assassination.

Rather, the answer is to be found in the present social and political crisis gripping South Africa, as well as the historic role played by Mandela in preserving capitalist interests in the country under the most explosive conditions.

It is significant that on the day before Mandela’s death, South Africa’s Institute for Justice and Reconciliation issued an annual report showing that those surveyed felt overwhelmingly that class inequality represented the paramount issue in South African society, with twice as many (27.9 percent) citing class as opposed to race (14.6 percent) as the “greatest impediment to national reconciliation.”

Two decades after the ending of the legal racial oppression of Apartheid, the class question has come to the fore in South Africa, embodied in the heroic mass struggles of the miners and other sections of the working class that have come into direct conflict with the African National Congress.

These eruptions found their sharpest expression in the August 16, 2012 massacre of 34 striking miners at the Lonmin platinum mine in Marikana, a mass killing whose bloody images recalled the worst episodes of Apartheid repression at Sharpeville and Soweto. This time, however, the bloodletting was orchestrated by the ANC government and its allies in the official trade union federation, COSATU.

South Africa today ranks as the most socially unequal country on the face of the planet. The gap between wealth and poverty and the number of poor South Africans are both greater than they were when Mandela walked out of prison in 1990. Fully 60 percent of the country’s income goes to the top 10 percent, while the bottom 50 percent lives below the poverty line, collectively receiving less than 8 percent of total earnings. At least 20 million are jobless, including over half of the younger workers.

Meanwhile, under the mantle of programs like “Black Economic Empowerment,” a thin layer of black ex-ANC leaders, trade union officials and small businessmen has become very rich from incorporation onto boards of directors, acquisitions of stock, and contracts with the government. It is under these conditions that ANC governments that have followed Mandela’s, first under Thabo Mbeki and now Jacob Zuma, have come to be seen as the corrupt representatives of a wealthy ruling establishment.

Mandela, who played a less and less active role in the country’s political life, nevertheless served as a facade for the ANC, which traded on his history of sacrifice and his image of humble dignity to hide its own corrupt self-dealing. Behind the facade, of course, Mandela and his family raked in millions, with his children and grandchildren active in some 200 private companies.

The New York Times published an article Friday under the worried headline, “Mandela’s Death Leaves South Africa Without Its Moral Center.” Clearly, there are fears that the passing of Mandela will serve to strip the ANC of what little credibility it has left, opening the way to intensified class struggle.

Concern among capitalist governments and corporate oligarchs over the implications of Mandela’s passing for the current crisis in South Africa is bound up with gratitude for services rendered by the ex-president and ANC leader. In the mid-1980s, when the South African ruling class began its negotiations with Mandela and the ANC on ending Apartheid, the country was in deep economic crisis and teetering on the brink of civil war. The government felt compelled to impose a state of emergency, having lost control of the black working class townships.

The international and South African mining corporations, banks and other firms, together with the most conscious elements within the Apartheid regime, recognized that the ANC—and Mandela in particular—were the only ones capable of quelling a revolutionary upheaval. It was for that purpose he was released from prison 23 years ago.

Utilizing the prestige it had acquired through its association with armed struggle and its socialistic rhetoric, the ANC worked to contain the mass uprising that it neither controlled nor desired and subordinate it to a negotiated settlement that preserved the wealth and property of the international corporations and the country’s white capitalist rulers.

Before taking office, Mandela and the ANC ditched large parts of the movement’s program, particularly those planks relating to public ownership of the banks, mines and major industries. They signed a secret letter of intent with the International Monetary Fund pledging to implement free market policies, including drastic budget cuts, high interest rates and the scrapping of all barriers to the penetration of international capital.

In doing so, Mandela realized a vision he had enunciated nearly four decades earlier, when he wrote that enacting the ANC’s program would mean: “For the first time in the history of this country, the non-European bourgeoisie will have the opportunity to own in their own name and right mills and factories, and trade and private enterprise will boom and flourish as never before.”

However, this “flourishing,” which boosted the profits of the transnational mining firms and banks while creating a layer of black multi-millionaires, has been paid for through the intensified exploitation of South African workers.

The ignominious path trod by the ANC was not unique. During the same period, virtually every one of the so-called national liberation movements, from the Palestine Liberation Organization to the Sandinistas, pursued similar policies, making their peace with imperialism and pursuing wealth and privilege for a narrow layer.

In this context, the death of Mandela underscores the fact that there exists no way forward for the working class in South Africa—and for that matter, worldwide—outside of the class struggle and socialist revolution.

A new party must be built, founded on the Theory of Permanent Revolution elaborated by Leon Trotsky, which established that in countries like South Africa, the national bourgeoisie, dependent upon imperialism and fearful of revolution from below, is incapable of resolving the fundamental democratic and social tasks facing the masses. This can be achieved only by the working class taking power into its own hands and overthrowing capitalism, as part of the international struggle to put an end to imperialism and establish world socialism.

Bill Van Auken is a senior political activist and analyst with wsws.org, information arm of the Socialist Equality Party.




BOOKS: How Hollywood moguls accommodated the Nazis

The Collaboration: Hollywood’s Pact with Hitler—how the studios suppressed films about Nazi crimes
By Charles Bogle, wsws.org

collaboration_01In his prologue to The Collaboration: Hollywood’s Pact with Hitler, author Ben Urwand observes that the notion of collaboration between Nazi Germany and Hollywood during the 1930s and 1940s should “shatter a common idea about Hollywood,” that it was “synonymous with anti-fascism during its golden age.”

Based on considerable research in archives in the US and Germany, Urwand proves indisputably that an agreement between Nazi Germany and Hollywood’s hierarchy did exist and, furthermore, that the film executives’ decision to enter into the pact was rooted in their determination to maintain a presence in the lucrative German market.

Carl Laemmle

Carl Laemmle

Urwand, born in 1977 in Sydney, Australia, the son of Jewish immigrants, is a Junior Fellow of the Society of Fellows at Harvard University. His book traces the development of Hollywood’s pact with Adolf Hitler from the latter’s rise to power in 1933 to the end of the Second World War. In the process, Urwand recounts how Nazi Germany came to play an increasing role in determining the kinds of films Hollywood would (and would not) make during those years.

The book, published by Belknap Press, is largely free of the ordinary academic’s formal evenhandedness and timidity, although the author is clearly unwilling to confront the deep commonality of interest between the American ruling elite and Nazi Germany.

Hitler’s obsession with cinema was such, Urwand explains, that the Nazi leader reserved time each evening for movie viewing, and concluded that British and especially American films were superior artistically and as propaganda.

However, when it came to war themes that jeopardized the German national image or what the fascist leader considered German morale, Hitler argued that a war was fought on two fronts: the battlefield and propaganda. According to Urwand, if Hitler understood a film to be threatening Germany, “then he was at war.”

Hitler’s first act in this conflict, although his party had not yet taken power, was to declare All Quiet on the Western Front (Lewis Milestone, 1930, based on the novel by Erich Maria Remarque) guilty of damaging the German image. The anti-war film’s release coincided with the Nazis making political considerable gains in the Reichstag [parliament]. This gave Hitler’s opinion enough weight so that, after two years in which the film was either banned or censored in Germany, Carl Laemmle, president of Universal Pictures, agreed to cut eight scenes and continue making money in the German market rather than resist the Nazi demands.

The groundwork for collaboration had been laid. Universal would also alter a number of other movies after meeting with Dr. Martin Freudenthal, a special agent of the German Foreign Office.

By 1933, Freudenthal could report to Hitler, now chancellor, that Universal would collaborate with the Nazis “for the German market.” RKO had also agreed to operate “in close collaboration” with Germany, and United Artists promised “the closest collaboration.”

This collaboration would deepen throughout the decade of the 1930s. When the Nazis insisted the Hollywood studios fire their Jewish salesmen in Germany, the studio heads, most of whom were Jewish and well aware of what the Hitler regime was doing to the Jews, readily acquiesced to the Nazis’ demand.

Left: Herman J. Mankiewicz

Freudenthal’s replacement as the German government’s agent, Georg Gyssling, added further grounds for the censorship and the outright banning of Hollywood films. In 1933, Herman J. Mankiewicz (who would later co-write Citizen Kane with Orson Welles) wrote a play, The Mad Dog of Europe, which honestly depicted the reality in Germany under Hitler. When Sam Jaffe at RKO agreed to produce a film version of Mankiewicz’s play, the Nazi regime, through Gyssling and the Hays Office (which enforced the Motion Picture Production Code), prevented the movie from being made on the grounds that it would adversely affect the other Hollywood studios’ relationship with Germany and that American audiences would find it anti-German.

Urwand asserts that the blocking of The Mad Dog of Europe defined the terms of the relationship for the rest of the decade, i.e., the Hollywood studios would not portray or criticize the Nazis’ treatment of the Jews. During these years, the Nazis had final approval on over 400 American films.

In 1934 even stricter censorship guidelines were introduced when Tarzan the Ape Man (W.S. Van Dyke, 1932) was found to undermine German propaganda in regard to “healthy racial feelings.”

The Nazis then cast a larger net over Hollywood productions. All gangster and horror films were banned from German theaters on the grounds that they promoted immorality, leading to the censorship of such American films across Europe. Hollywood had no trouble with this action and adjusted its productions accordingly.

Another “adjustment” was made following Kristallnacht (the Night of Broken Glass, the vicious anti-Semitic pogrom) in November 1938. MGM found an effective way to export profits made in Germany (a 1933 Nazi law prevented foreign companies from taking money out of the country) by first loaning the money made from profits to firms that needed credit, then receiving bonds in exchange for the loan, and finally selling the bonds to foreign countries.

However, the firms that received MGM funds in the first place were part of the armament industry; in brief, MGM was helping to finance the production of German weaponry.

Nazi Germany’s invasion of Poland on Sept. 1, 1939, did not fundamentally change matters; in fact, MGM donated eleven of its most popular films to Germany to help with the war relief effort.

Ironically, MGM produced the first anti-Nazi film Mortal Storm (Frank Borzage, 1940), and even though it made no direct reference to the Jews, the movie still drew Gyssling’s ire. Shortly thereafter, the one remaining American studio that still had a presence in Germany, Paramount, was forced to leave the country, as well as all the territories occupied by German forces.

The Mortal Storm 1940

The Nazis’ expulsion of the studios, one would think, coming shortly before America’s entry into the war, ought to have freed Hollywood to make more hard-hitting films about the Hitler regime, but Urwand notes that “the years of collaboration with Nazi Germany had marked [the studio heads] too deeply” for a dramatic change to occur. Of the 1000 films produced during the war, 242 made direct references to the Nazis and 190 to Hitler. Urwand argues, however, that only one, None Shall Escape(André de Toth, 1944), “revealed what the Nazis were doing to the Jews.”

A major flaw in The Collaboration: Hollywood’s Pact with Hitler is Urwand’s inability to seriously deal with the American establishment’s hypocrisy and duplicity.

Ben Hecht (left)
Prominent screenwriter Ben Hecht (Scarface, Design for Living, Viva Villa, Nothing Sacred and many more screenplays) is singled out by Urwand as “the [only] voice that provided a corrective to (the Hollywood studio heads’) silence” about the Nazi government’s murderous policies.

Once Hecht learned of the genocide going on in Germany and eastern Europe, he initiated a campaign to educate the American public and demand action to save the European Jews. He wrote “advertisements” in the form of poems and articles that appeared in newspapers; and organized—along with the Committee for a Jewish Army—a pageant in New York that attracted 40,000 people.

Under pressure from Hecht, the Committee, and other Jewish groups and individuals, the Roosevelt administration finally created the War Refugee Board in 1944 to rescue approximately 200,000 Jews—this after the Roosevelt administration had known about the systematic extermination of the Jews for some time without lifting a finger.

Deeply embittered by the lives lost due to Roosevelt’s inaction, Hecht would write years later that, “We [the Emergency Committee] were creating a new school of Jews in the U.S.—one which refused to believe blindly in the virtues of their enemies in Democracy’s clothing.”

Urwand accuses Hecht of making a claim that “may have been too strongly worded,” but the screenwriter had done nothing more or less than state the case exactly and eloquently. By refusing to credit Hecht for correctly characterizing the policies of “American democracy,” the author also fails to acknowledge the shared interests of the powers that be in the US and Nazi Germany.

A continued profit stream for the film studios was certainly a significant motive for remaining silent about the Nazis’ crimes. However, there was more than immediate economic gain at stake. The studio heads reflected broader moods within the US ruling class. The ruling elites of Europe and America were generally sympathetic toward Hitler’s brutal repression of left-wing parties and all independent workers’ organizations, and also hopeful that Nazi Germany would invade and destroy the Soviet Union. They feared the prospect of social revolution in Germany far more than they did a fascist regime in power in Berlin.

The record demonstrates irrefutably that the studio heads, Jewish or otherwise, were more consumed by anti-communism and the desire to defend the profit system than they were by concerns about the deadly consequences of anti-Semitism. After all, they pursued the same course in the US after World War II, allying themselves with “anti-red” witch-hunters such as the rabid anti-Semite John Rankin, Democratic Congressman from Mississippi. (Similarly, the film studios accommodated themselves to Southern racists in the US by avoiding films that dealt with racial bigotry, oppression and lynchings, or that treated such events as the Civil War in a forthright manner.)

Urwand’s refusal to draw the sharpest conclusions from the history he so meticulously presents, which would have provided the reader with a deeper understanding of the pact between Hollywood and Nazi Germany, mars what is an important work of scholarship. Nonetheless, The Collaboration: Hollywood’s Pact with Hitler is a valuable exposure that should be read.




Batman’s poison—an assessment

CULTURAL DEBATES—REPOSTED BY SEAN LENIHAN

The Dark Knight Rises: Dubious and distortive

By Adam Haig , WSWS.ORG
(Originally reviewed 9 August 2012}

Directed by Christopher Nolan, screenplay by Jonathan Nolan and Christopher Nolan, story by Christopher Nolan and David S. Goyer

Batman
The Dark Knight Rises
Editor’s Note: 
I was recently semi-watching HBO and caught a fragment of The Dark Knight Rises, surely one of the most pretentious comic book movies served up by Hollywood in recent years. (And, in this age of all-out infantilization and for the most part manipulation instead of plain creativity, literally scores of such films have rained down on the world consciousness in the last two decades.)
     The author of this piece—Adam Haig— does an excellent job at dissecting the director’s politics and conceits, so I will not waste your time with that, except to signal my revulsion at the degree of Hollywood’s degeneracy in our time, an industry obsessed with childish (but poisoned) escapist fantasies, from tales of kings and princes in some magical subterranean domains to superheroes capable of singlehandedly rectifying the gravest ills of society. Insidiously, but not surprisingly, all of these films bolster the status quo and the respect for (currently) constituted power. One has to wonder if the producers, directors, and actors, plus scores of highly accomplished technicians, ever wonder about the noxious artifacts they lend their talents to.  Do such people ever think?  Does a Chris Nolan, or a Cristian Bale, or a siren like Anne Hathaway ever reflect on what these movies actually convey in terms of social messages?  Apparently not. Career comes first, the ego leads the parade, and society be damned. I suspect that, aside from some socially and politically conscious actors like Matt Damon, who represent a puny percentage of the film colony, this self-congratulatory crowd is not unduly burdened with deep thoughts. —P. Greanville

C. Nolan—young, rich, and handsome but less than useless to society.

C. Nolan—young, rich, and handsome but less than useless to society. Actually toxic.

The Dark Knight Rises is the most conservative and rightwing of Christopher Nolan’s PG-13 Batman films to date. This 164-minute pulp-noir superhero action thriller openly defends plutocracy, associates the working class with violent murderers and thugs, identifies revolution with terrorism and suggests that the only way to advance the social welfare is through the philanthropy of the super rich.

Why should such a film be made in the present period of world capitalist economic crisis and rising unemployment, the mass upsurge in North Africa and the Middle East, the radicalization of the American working class and the global assertion of US militarism—if not in an effort to stupefy mass consciousness? Considering that DC Comics has done projects for the US Department of State, it is a question well worth asking.

Moreover, the Dark Knight Rises appears in a socially malignant context in America today, where there is an alarming decay in cultural life and formal democratic institutions, resulting in social pathologies that too often manifest themselves in violent forms. The reality was tragically confirmed in the shooting massacre at a July premiere of Nolan’s film at a movie theater in Aurora, Colorado, the alleged gunman identifying with a Batman villain.

While commercial cinema is not the root of social problems, films do affect people. Under the present social conditions, psychologically vulnerable individuals will not be helped by the murky and necropohilic fantasy of the “Nolanverse,” which inherits the brutalization of the Batman comic books in the 1970s and, especially, the 1980s.

What does one feel when watching Nolan? Altogether, it is an aesthetically one-sided and emotionally distorting encounter—condescending, cruel, misanthropic, ugly and unreal—in short, much like the feeling of Batman comic books in the 1980s by writers such as Frank Miller, Alan Moore, and John Wagner and Alan Grant. Catharsis, power fantasy, wish fulfillment, perhaps this is the allure of the pulp-noir action thriller.

With a convoluted storyline, flat characters and special effects, the Dark Knight Rises is built around the complication of Miranda Tate (Marion Cotillard), a wealthy investor who works her way into the financially struggling Wayne Enterprises of billionaire Bruce Wayne (Christian Bale). Winning Wayne’s trust and intimacy, Tate is really the vengeful daughter of Ra’s al Ghul (Liam Neeson), whose death Wayne/Batman is responsible for.

Tate conceals her true identity and blood vengeance for the better part of the film, while the focus is on her henchman Bane (Tom Hardy), a bald, mysterious, muscle-bound, muzzle-wearing megalomaniac with a terrorist army, who takes Gotham City and its 12 million residents hostage. And Bane’s, Tate’s, plan? They seek the destruction of the city and the people in a nuclear blast, “the next era of Western civilization,” in Bane’s words.

Bane
Tom Hardy as Bane

Since the point is for Wayne/Batman to feel failure, Bane breaks Batman’s back and casts him in a remote, underground prison with a TV set so that the he can suffer emotionally. “I fear dying in here while my city burns,” Wayne says. He recovers, exercises and escapes; confronts Bane and Tate, who die; explodes the bomb over Gotham Bay; and all assuming Batman deceased in heroic self-sacrifice, the elite unveil a statue honoring him.

As this is vacuous, the plot has fillers: Commissioner James Gordon (Gary Oldman), Batman’s ally, hides a troubling secret; Deputy Commissioner Peter Foley (Matthew Modine) wants to arrest Batman; Detective John Blake (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) is tired of police rules; Selina Kyle (Anne Hathaway), a jewel thief, is used by Bane; and Alfred Pennyworth (Michael Caine), Batman’s butler, agonizes over the vigilante lifestyle.

comic                                                                                         Batman, Vol. 1, No. 497, July 1993

Clearly, Nolan knew that the Dark Knight Rises would not get far without melodramatics, not to mention superficial scene adaptations and quotes from Charles Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities (1859). But while the film has nothing at all in common with Dickens’ historical novel, written as a witness to the French Revolution of 1789, Nolan has apparently intended a publicist film statement against social revolution.

Significantly, the word “revolution” is mentioned twice in the Dark Knight Rises, and in one of these cases, it is explicitly referred to as “Bane’s revolution” by WayneTech Enterprises CEO Lucius Fox (Morgan Freeman). Besides the fact that the fictional corporation does military projects for the US Defense Department, Nolan conveys the anti-revolutionary statement with allegorical symbolism, in the maniacal character Bane.

Bane, to be sure, is an allegorical character—a personified abstraction. His name means “a cause of great distress or annoyance,” and he is a figure in whom are embodied many ideologically distorted and confused notions of what a revolution is and how a revolution is carried out. As his murderous characterization bespeaks, Bane stands for the idea that a revolution is made by the will of a terrorist-psychopath. Consider some of his words:

* “I’m Gotham’s reckoning.”

* “I’m necessary evil.”

* “I am the League of Shadows [i.e., Ra’s al Ghul’s criminal organization].”

* “I’m here to fulfill Ra’s al Ghul’s destiny.”

* “I was born in the dark, molded by it.”

* “The shadows betray you [Batman] because they belong to me.”

* “This … this [nuclear bomb] is the instrument of your liberation.”

* “We come here not as conquerors, but as liberators to return this city to the people.”

* “Behind you lies a symbol of oppression [i.e., Blackgate Prison].”

Hathaway: Poster girl for beautiful but shallow.

Hathaway: As beautiful as she’s shallow.

What happens in Gotham after Bane’s hostile take over? He orders people to stay in their homes; he unlocks the prisons; he summons an army of the underprivileged; he incites mass lootings and physical attacks against the wealthy; and he permits mob courts in which the rich are sentenced to “exile or death,” either way resulting in a brutal death. And all this happens while 3,000 police officers are trapped under the city streets.

Watching this film, one is presented with things in a way as to become really fearful of the terrorist “revolution” and sympathetic to the persecuted upper class and police authority, whatever their moral defects or bureaucratic shortsightedness. The impression is also created that the crisis caused by the megalomaniac Bane would not have happened had the elites, police and masses put more belief, faith and trust in Batman and been more charitable.

Thus, after Batman returns and the police are liberated, those who once mistrusted the superhero vigilante, such as Foley, see the error of their ways and fight heroically to the death against the terrorist-psychopath and his army of killers. The social distortion is incredible, but a message comes through—“Bane’s revolution” is evil, and Batman is good. It is a cheap combination of political propaganda and product marketing.

Confronted with a work such as The Dark Knight Rises, with all its artistic and social falseness and pseudo-gravitas, one really must ask the question: What is a social revolution? Unlike the confused and misrepresented allegories in Nolan’s film, a revolution is not anarchy; a revolution is not bloodlust; and a revolution is not terrorism.

A revolution involves the build up of living political energy in masses of people under the conditions of social inequality and economic oppression. Compelled by these conditions, the working population self-organizes and, guided by a revolutionary party, abolishes the profit system and establishes genuine democracy. But the revolution does not end there. It continues until all workers end repression entirely and create a world socialist society based on satisfying human needs.

Maybe a superhero film can be made that addresses real social life with some degree of honesty. So far, however, the genre has been dubious and reverential of the status quo, to the point of artistic deceit. That said, The Dark Knight Rises marks the finale of a trilogy that included Batman Begins in 2005 and The Dark Knight in 2008; yet plans are now underway for a reboot. It is unlikely that things will be getting any better anytime soon.

The author also recommends:

Over his head
[29 June 2005]

The Dark Knight: Striving to be impressive, but essentially empty
[25 July 2008]