(loss of) independence day

I saw two movies this Independence Day weekend: Cinderella Man and War of the Worlds. They all seemed related.

Russell Crowe’s Hustle & Flow

Rocky v. Seabiscuit just about sums up Cinderella Man. It’s better than either, but skip it if you’re not already susceptible to melodramatic trash.

As always, Renee Zellweger plays Renee Zellweger. For all the impact she makes on this movie, they might as well have cast Paris Hilton. Russell Crowe’s Joisey accent was no better than Zellweger’s British accent (or her Joisey accent for that matter). But I hardly noticed.

Instead, I enjoyed the two-hour acting clinic he was putting on. The turning point scene, midway through the movie, is something Sylvester Stallone or Tobey Maguire could never pull off, and it is enough to break the heart of anyone (with the possible exception of Charlton Heston).

Russell Crowe has what I will call - because it rhymes - Hustle & Flow. His work ethic – his Hustle – shows in every performance, an earnestness that is so often missing in modern movie performances. His presence – his Flow – is due not only to blinding charisma, but to a complete adaptation of the way he carries himself: his posture, his expression, his voice. He reminds me of Dustin Hoffman, only without the grandstanding, annoying mannerisms, diminutive homeliness, and crippled physique. What can’t Russell Crowe do? Has he met John Singleton?

Still, the dominant flavors of Cinderella Man are corn and cheese, and for that we have nobody but Opie to blame. Why is Ron Howard so popular? I watched the movie in a mall deep in the heart of L.A. suburbia. A number of people were cheering Russell Crowe on during his match, while, on more than one occasion, the audience burst out in applause at the end of a bout. Are moviegoers and critics alike so easily manipulated? Do they not see the difference between this movie and Million Dollar Baby?

Post-9/11 Independence Day
(warning: spoilers)

War of the Worlds feels like a studio hack’s knockoff of Clinton-era Independence Day. In reality, both are based on H.G. Wells’ original War of the Worlds, published in 1898. But whereas ID4 injects modern-day details, a healthy dose of Will Smith irony, and a Hollywood ending into Wells’ century-old plot, Spielberg seems to stay close to the original. That’s its central problem, as the end of Wells’ story – all the efforts of man are for naught, while the aliens die suddenly of an infection - is anathema to a Hollywood action movie. ID4 makes the infection a precondition to the true defeat of the aliens by good ol’ American ingenuity and self-sacrifice, thus providing the Hollywood ending necessary for this kind of movie.

But WotW is interesting in a way ID4 is not. War of the Worlds is way too simple a movie for Spielberg to tackle at this stage in his career, at least on the surface. Below the surface, however, is the long-buried political message Spielberg is beginning to express. But the message is ambiguous.

In a statement to Reuters, Spielberg admits that the alien invasion is a stand-in for 9/11. But does that mean Tim Robbins character, who advocates retaliation and shows signs of pedophilia, represents the Hawks currently in charge of U.S. foreign policy and Homeland Security? Is Spielberg telling us to just assassinate these people? And what of the ending? The alien terror is neutralized by a contagious disease. Assuming the terror represents Islamic fundamentalism or some radical sect thereof, that disease can only be American pop culture, consumerism, or corporate capitalism. Spielberg stands towering at the very center of all three plagues, and thus, can vouch for the efficacy of this Ultimate Solution.

And remember, these are the serious movies out this summer. War of the Worlds and Cinderella Man are supposed to be beacons of enlightenment awash in the drool of Will Ferrell in Bewitched, Vince Vaughan in Wedding Crashers, Lindsay Lohan in another Herbie vehicle, Jessica Alba in Fantastic Four (Genius #1: "Why don’t we cast Jessica in a role where she’s invisible for half the movie?" Genius #2: "Brilliant!"), Jessica Simpson in The Dukes of Hazzard, and Paris Hilton in House of Wax. Who says Cardinal Sin is dead?

Sitting out on the grass of Warner Park on Monday, waiting for the fireworks, I tried to think about how so many Americans arrived at their current state of mindless, paranoid, flag-waving conformity. But it was hard to remain grumpy surrounded by so many diverse families coming together to enjoy another perfect L.A. summer. Perhaps it was the Benny Goodman selections this year instead of the usual Tchaikovsky bombardment. Perhaps it’s the thought that our Declaration of Independence, despite being unfamiliar to the majority of Americans, has survived worse times. We are not in a spirit-crushing Depression like what the real Jim Braddock went through. We are not fighting for our Independence like the writers of the Declaration; nor are we caught in a desperate War of Extermination, despite what Spielberg and Rumsfeld may think.

To paraphrase something Tina Turner said while shooting on location in Russell Crowe’s homeland:

We don’t need another hero.
We don’t need to know the way home.
All we want is life, …liberty, and …a thundering dome of fireworks.