Jan
28
The Washington Times saught to interview actor Benicio Del Toro about his newest film Che. When questioned about the facts of the rich kid who didn’t know a damn thing about the poor turned idiot murderer Che Guevara, he walked out.
“I’m getting uncomfortable,” Benicio del Toro says after fielding a question on his new movie’s portrayal of the Bolivian and Cuban revolutions. “I’m done. I’m done, I hope you write whatever you want. I don’t give a damn.”
With that the Oscar-winning actor walks away, abruptly terminating his interview with this paper to discuss “Che,” the controversial new biopic about the life and times of Cuban revolutionary Ernesto “Che” Guevara directed by Steven Soderbergh.
Later, Del Toro tried to defend the movie:
For his part, Mr. del Toro doesn’t deny that there were some darker aspects to Guevara’s persona. “We have to omit a lot of stuff about his life,” he says, “but we’re not omitting the fact that he’s for capital punishment, which is the essence of that.”
In the movie, Guevara is shown executing a man, but for raping a child, not for being disloyal to the cause of revolution. Troops are offered a chance to desert, and get nothing more than a scolding for their cowardice.
I wonder if they included a scene of Guevara shooting a pregnant woman in the stomach.
To gain some truthful perspective, the article quoted Armando Valladares, who was imprisoned by Castro’s regime during the communist revolution. A strong critic of not only Guevara but the brutal Castro regime, he quotes Che in his own writings:
“Hatred as an element of struggle; unbending hatred for the enemy, which pushes a human being beyond his natural limitations, making him into an effective, violent, selective, and cold-blooded killing machine.”
That quote was also included in a Slate article from 2004 about another Che movie, The Motorcycle Diaries. The writer, Paul Berman, also brought in the perspective of a Cuban who dared defy the idolized Che Geuvara and what the man stood for. Raúl Rivero was a poet who was sentenced to 20 years in prison for writing about Castro. In response to the adoration from the liberal film community in regards to The Motorcycle Diaries, Berman writes:
I wonder if people who stand up to cheer a hagiography of Che Guevara, as the Sundance audience did, will ever give a damn about the oppressed people of Cuba—will ever lift a finger on behalf of the Cuban liberals and dissidents. It’s easy in the world of film to make a movie about Che, but who among that cheering audience is going to make a movie about Raúl Rivero?
But wait - I thought liberals were supposed to love artists who are oppressed by the evil capitalists. Well, as Berman offers, Che picked on a couple other groups that leftists claim to be fond of:
Che was a mainstay of the hardline pro-Soviet faction, and his faction won. Che presided over the Cuban Revolution’s first firing squads. He founded Cuba’s “labor camp” system—the system that was eventually employed to incarcerate gays, dissidents, and AIDS victims. To get himself killed, and to get a lot of other people killed, was central to Che’s imagination.
But cultish idolotry and the absolution of individual liberties are hardly unexpected from those who adhere to an ideology that detests private control and ownership and believes that there are only a select few who really know how to run our lives.
Times article found on the Drudge Report.
Jan
19
Over the weekend I saw Gran Torino starring libertarian Clint Eastwood. I went in with high expectations and must say they were met. It had everything a good movie should - drama, comedy, good characters, and creative profanity. But what was best was how the movie soundly repudiated the liberal themes that permeate a lot of mainstream cinema today. Gran Torino is chock full of pro-American, pro-military, pro-gun messages, all centering around a politically-incorrect protagonist who regularly throws out racial epithets.
The short version of the film is the story of Walt, an older, white Korean War veteran whose neighborhood is becoming increasingly populated by younger and poorer Asian immigrants. Originally hostile towards his new neighbors (the term ‘gook’ is used frequently throughout), he befriends a young teenage boy named Thao who lives next door. Walt becomes a good influence on Thao and shows him how to work, find a job, and curse with the best of ‘em. However, some of Thao’s family are members of a gang and want him to join, trying to take him by force if necesarry. The movie follows Walt’s attempts to protect Thao from the gang, using scorching profanity, violence, and his constitutionally-protected right to bear arms.
The most obvious anti-liberal theme in Gran Torino is its depiction of gun ownership. The film accurately portrays the reality of the gun situation in the real world. Both Walt and the gang bangers use, store, and own guns in ways many liberals would love to outlaw. But who would benefit from this? The criminals, of course, who would never follow such a law in the first place. As pro-gun advocates have maintained, gun laws only harm the innocent by disarming law-abiding citizens.
Secondly, the movie puts to rest the absurd liberal argument that gun ownership breeds violence. The mantra guns don’t kill people, people kill people rings true. Violent people will be violent whether they use guns, knives, sticks, or stones. Remember, the most heinous murder in modern American history was committed with box cutters and airplanes. We’re not going to outlaw those, are we? It is the gun that makes equal the physical disparity between a muscular twenty something gang member and a frail, 68 year old retiree. If left unchecked, barbarians will steal and assault at will. It is consequences that prevent thugs from committing violence, and there are few things like an armed and self-defensive populace to bring about consequences.
A theme in Gran Torino I also liked was the method by which two cultures meshed, that being the culture of the Hmong immigrants and the native Michigander, Walt. While liberals would prefer legislation, banking regulations, and demonizing western culture as the source of all evil as a method of cultural reconciliation, the film shows how even the most stubborn people can mesh over common values like family, hard work, accountability, and good food. Thao doesn’t earn Walt’s trust by berating him on the evils of the white race or American exceptionalism. No, he does this by showing his respect for elders and his work ethic. Likewise, Walt does not come to be accepted among Thao’s family by apologizing for his patriotism, military service, or political-incorrect vernacular. He does this by standing in solidarity against violent thugs, of any race, and by partaking in the delicious Hmong cuisine that the family leaves at his doorstep.
Finally, it’s worth noting a little jab that Gran Torino takes at those who would antagonize our military and glorify collectivist dictators abroad. Begrudging the escalating racial tension in his community, Walt asks Thao’s sister, Sue, how the Hmong people ended up in suburban Detroit. She explains that when in Southeast Asia, the Hmong were anti-communist and supported the Americans. When the U.S. withdrew, the communists began slaughtering the Hmong people. She then explains that the Lutherans were instrumental in bringing many Hmong people to the U.S.
So let’s get this right, communism: bad, religious-right types: good? Definitely not your typical Hollywood mantra.
Political dissection aside, Gran Torino is an awesome flick. Its a lot of fun, and it makes you think. It also gives me hope that I’ll be as spry as Clint Eastwood when I’m 78. Get out and see it, and take your liberal friends!
