I can’t say that I am pleased with the series finale. Sure, it ended happy and avoided the usual Hollywood downer ending. However, the final episode felt rushed as it tied up a few big stories in 30 short minutes. Ari (Jeremy Piven) got back together with his wife, Vince is leaving to marry Sophia (Alice Eve) and the boys helped Eric (Kevin Connolly) to get Sloan (Emanuelle Chriqui) back. In a final scene after the credit sequence we see Ari get offered the biggest job of his life, CEO of a major umbrella corporation. There is material left here for more seasons and the show didn’t even to give closure to the stories of Turtle (Jerry Ferrara) and Drama (Kevin Dillon), but I digress.

Regardless of my issues with the finale, all of Entourage’s spoiled brats grew into better people than those we first met in season one. Vince (Adrian Grenier) had many ups and downs, going from top grossing movie star to getting addicted to hard drugs and falling for porn star Sasha Grey. With the help of his friends Vince cleaned up and prevailed. Turtle and Drama grew up (ever so slightly) and slowly began to take responsibility for their lives. Eric remained the rock throughout the entire series. He was a sweet guy who always tried to do the right thing and kept all of the other characters in check. I will especially miss Eric’s verbal battles with Ari, another strong character.

Over the years, most of the character gave in to temptations that come with the fast and loose celebrity lifestyle. The difference is now Eric dealt with this, which is why he is such a pivotal character. Eric is the everyman that most of us would (hopefully) be if thrown into the Hollywood life, making mistakes but always striving to do good. Contrary to his friends, it is Eric that has a moral conscience, truly regretting all of his mistakes instead of laughing them off like the others do. The final season saw Eric giving up his agency in LA to live in New York to help his wife raise their child after she decided to move away.  It would be difficult to imagine Turtle, Drama or Vince doing that.

The same can be said about Ari, who is a verbally abusive talent super-agent that truly tries to do good. Over the years we were able to peel back some layers of Ari’s life, seeing how much he loves his family and that his dominating, arrogant presence has less to do with his ego and more to do with his difficulty to express how he really feels (i.e. his appreciation for his family and for his die-hard assistant turned agent Lloyd). In fact, several times we’ve seen a very broken Ari when his work drastically affects his family. Like Eric, Ari is also a moral man (remember his great rant to Adam Davies about business ethics), though he often hides behind a tough-guy mask that usually gets him in trouble. Surrounded by beautiful celebrities, Ari never cheated on his wife. When she left him for Bobby Flay, Ari couldn’t manage a relationship with Dana Gordon (Constance Zimmer), who was a great match, because he still loved his wife.

Looking back, I see my interest in Entourage similar to my love of movies about movies. Sometimes they can be a little self-indulgent but they also have the potential to give us a unique window into Hollywood. Of course, this window only shows us what the insiders will allow us to see. What makes Entourage different is that it took us from Hollywood and Los Angeles to New York City, Columbia (for their filming of Medellien), Cannes (for the Cannes Film Festival) and Park City, Utah (for the Sundance Film Festival) as well as on to numerous studios and films sets the offered great cameos.

In addition, the show for me is less about hedonism (as the LA Times suggests) than it is about dealing with how people would handle fame, money, and the Hollywood life if put in that position. To the casual viewer it may appear that Vince – the movie star – is the main character, however, that really isn’t the case. Vince is simply the reason his friends had stayed in LA (since he bailed each of them out of numerous occasions) and the catalyst for the show. However, Eric and Ari are the characters that drew me and many others to the show.

Entourage, on its surface, was about a few guys who had a bunch of money fall into their lap and indulged in “the good life.” However, for those viewers who chose to read a little deeper, it wasn’t that simple. The two (arguably) main characters were not hedonists; they were two men who fought hard to not become the typical amoral Hollywood sleaze. Their story, more than anything, represents the American Dream. Hollywood itself was built from outsiders who came from nothing, moved West, and made something of their life. The boys from Entourage had a similar journey, coming from humble beginnings in Queens, moving to Hollywood following the lead of their successful friend Vince. Both Eric and Turtle, who began as freeloaders, grew into successful businessmen who could stand on their own two feet.  

The boys from Queens came from nothing and collectively accomplished a great deal, though each in their own unique way. According to The Hollywood Reporter, show creator Doug Ellin will begin writing a script for a film version of Entourage in the next six months. Hopefully this will make series fans happier than the uncomfortably rushed finale. Until then, Entourage regulars will have to spend their Sunday nights hugging it out with back episodes on DVD and Blu-ray.

Luckily, my experience in graduate school is a different story. My professors have been more concerned with historical relevancy and less about turning a film lecture into a civics lesson. One professor who does the field a favor by putting together a fair assessment is Drew Casper, the Alma and Alfred Hitchcock Chair of American Film at USC, with his latest book, Hollywood Film 1963-1976: Years of Revolution and Reaction. Casper takes on a time period of filmmaking very dear to him that he feels has been unfairly dominated by leftist praise that purposely ignores certain films. Exposing his frustrations, Casper says that “predictably, the [scholarly] discussions are rather obsessive, focusing on the same films time and again that fit the critically beloved template” (xvi). This is exactly what I went through as an undergraduate. Extra studying on my part had to be done to get a well-rounded view of film history.

This common template favors liberals, constantly overhyping films like The Graduate, Mash, and Five Easy Pieces with praise that is more suited for something like The Godfather. Casper’s problem is that in the usual  film history text, a film like the leftist McCabe and Mrs. Miller will take up an entire chapter while the conservative and more iconic True Grit (1969 version) goes overlooked. The pious view of some films like Dr. Strangelove will force the ignorance of an equally important film (even those with similar political leanings). This fidelity to the most radical films will create a predictable view of others, “sometimes a conservative film is noted, only to be vilified for its politics, such aspersion clouding any thoughts about its aesthetic merits” (xvii). This is the case with Dirty Harry, where the left loves to hold this film up as fascist (Casper describes the “self-righteous” vitriol spewed by Pualine Kael about this film).

The first few chapters of the text are a well-balanced account of the 60s and 70s in America both culturally and politically. Courageously, Casper notes it’s so difficult to hear about centrist and conservative movies in many film courses because anti-American Marxists began to dominate the humanities fields in higher education. Continuing his discussion of the time, Casper says that “One nation, indivisible, under God, was turning into a secular series of ever-growing fiefdoms” (27), which accurately paints a picture for this tumultuous time period in American history (he also provides an honest depiction of the Kennedys which was a breath of fresh air). The lengthy breakdown of the changes occurring in America and Hollywood is essential in understanding this part of American film history (especially if you are like me and were born after the fact).

A large chunk of the book is dedicated to detailing how genres were used during this time period. Genres began to transition into what felt like a revolution (131), working primarily as a political force. The culture war blew up and all sides got in the fight. This period saw films working as renewal, hybridization as well as demythologizing of traditional genres (adventure, Western, family melodrama, comedy, etc). Casper accurately notes that “using genre as a soapbox, characters’ psychology became less significant than the ideas they incited” (134). The collective liberalism in the country was growing which led to far less superhero films (the genre is generally conservative) and many more Vietnam-Westerns. In addition, adventure films became popular but are widely overlooked by scholars. Films like Papillon, The Great Escape, The Dirty Dozen and Deliverance are given ample appreciation compared to past work on this timeframe.

The 60s and 70s saw a large downswing in war films which led to an upswing in Westerns, allowing filmmakers to comment on the war through metaphor. These films depicted a savage attitude towards Native Americans to address the violence in Vietnam (Little Big Man, Soldier Blue, Ulzana’s Raid). Others became a platform for radical domestic politics such as Robert Altman’s widely praised McCabe and Mrs. Miller (which is a wonderful genre play that unfortunately becomes and anti-capitalist wet dream). While these films are certainly worth noting, Casper does the genre justice by also mentioning other important films the liberals like to ignore such as True Grit, Jeremiah Johnson, El Dorado, and overlooked (liberal) Sam Peckinpah films; The Ballad of Cable Hogue and Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid. In addition, we see the popular Leone films examined as Marxist where the filmmaker “planned to expose the ‘real’ American West as one rough-and-tough environment diseased by the obsession with money” (338). It’s easy to see why these films consistently make the cut in film academia and it’s not just because of the amazing Ennio Morricone scores.

Another great genre, the vigilante film, is put into a helpful context in this book. As a film student, I’ve seen Serpico praised and Death Wish denounced for solely political reasons (which isn’t helpful to a student). Each film represents strong feelings from opposing sides that are worth discussing in terms of grasping the cultural climate. Casper says that “respective political ideologies could place a vigilante, someone who took or countenanced the taking of the law into his/her own hands to attain justice, in either camp – dutiful lawman (if you’re conservative) or fascist criminal (if you’re liberal)”  (309). This honest and balanced attitude towards the material presented is obviously why Casper has the respect and massive following that he does. During a time when social and political tensions were high, all sides need to be seen in order to get a complete view of Hollywood in the 60s and 70s.

Such honesty about American film during a tumultuous time period is not common in the field which makes Hollywood Film 1963-1976: Years of Revolution and Reaction so good. The book is not meant to be a turning of the tables on liberal film historians; it is meant to be a balanced account of history when so many texts overanalyze the same select movies. I’ve read many books where the leftist films are referred to as “heroic” and “courageous” while the conservative films are called “reactionary” and “fascist.” What Casper does, that works so well for audiences of any political persuasion, is simply refer to films as “liberal,” “centrist,” or “conservative.” Understanding that taste is subjective, Casper allows the audience to decide which films they prefer.  I highly recommend this book to any film student or person interested in Hollywood films of the 60s and 70s. This text will definitely become a go-to reference as I continue my studies.

When a new episode of South Park airs, it is generally available for streaming shortly thereafter from South Park Studios. In the case of “201,” we got this message:

Following this message, there was a long list of people upset that the network, who has courageously stood by South Park creators Trey Parker and Matt Stone over the years, decided to cower in the corner and bleep important sections of episode “201.” In fact, Muhammed was shown in a bear suit, an obvious play on the fear of showing Muhammed on TV. Even that was censored out (important note: Comedy Central has allowed South Park to show Muhammed in the past). As the dust settled, many people (including myself) felt that the truth would be told and free speech will prevail, on some level, when the episode comes out on the season 14 DVD.

Upon the release, I heard that the episode was still edited, which was a shameful move on Comedy Central’s part. Not surprised about that, I figured Matt and Trey would get to say a few things on the commentary track that would allow more of their voice to be heard. Unfortunately, this is not the case and the bulk of their commentary is also bleeped out with that same annoying tone that is spread throughout episode “201” (supposedly a speech about fear and intimidation that doesn’t mention Muhammed). The beginning of the episode on DVD says the following words.

In the 14 years we’ve been doing South Park we have never done a show that we couldn’t stand behind. We delivered our version of the show to Comedy Central and they made a determination to alter the episode. It wasn’t some meta-joke on our part. Comedy Central added the bleeps. In fact, Kyle’s customary final speech was about intimidation and fear. It didn’t mention Muhammad at all but it got bleeped too.

After reading that statement, I can just hear the obscenity-laced commentary from Matt and Trey, likely using more colorful terms than “coward” in reference to Comedy Central. The reason South Park has reached the status it has acquired is because of the show’s ability to mock anyone or any idea; the end result often being a smart, useful reflection on the topics lampooned. Matt and Trey have long appreciated Comedy Central’s willingness to stand behind their work. Today, however, it appears that Comedy Central has willingly given into the hyper-politically-correct elements in our society.

Over the last year, there has been more mumblings from Matt and Trey that they are getting tired of doing South Park. Their ability to stay on top of current events means they literally put a show together in under a week. This is no easy task and certainly not worth the sleepless work nights if your show is going to get butchered from the terrified suits above. With the ongoing culture war, a voice like South Park is essential and should be supported. Silencing such a voice and giving into intimidation only shows a severe weakness in our culture that will be exploited by those who want to crush it.

Originally posted as Parcbench.

One of the latest explorations of the genre is in The Philosophy of the Western (2010), edited by Jennifer L. McMahon and B. Steve Csaki. The book is an anthology of essays that deal with the Western in terms of the myths created in both history and cinema. This compilation deals primarily with the philosophy surrounding identity, ethics and gender that dominate the American Western. In addition, the authors incorporate the intersection of philosophy and Western myth, each at different lengths and depths. Co-editors McMahon and Csaki say that “while rooted in history, the myth of the American West quickly took on a life of its own” (2). The blurred line between fact and fiction of the Wild West has continually been carried by the American film industry since the early 1900s. This book shows that the famous line, “when legend becomes fact, print the legend,” from The Man Who Shot Liberty Valence (1962) still rings true. Hollywood continues to print (or revise) the legend to this day.

The academic field studying the Western is almost as large as the genre itself. Many of the original studies are still useful from Robert Warshow’s influential essay “Movie Chronicle: The Westerner” (1954) to Jim Kitses Horizon’s West (1969) and John G. Cawelti’s The Six-Gun Mystique (1970), (the last two have updated versions). The Western may get more notice recently due to the Coen brother’s 2010 Oscar nominated film True Grit. The Coen’s film is a true exploration of nostalgia (which they have done for numerous genres such as noir and gangster), but to understand their sentimental approach to the Western one must have a grasp of the films that founded the genre as we know it today. Thought of the Western will generally draw quick images of Ford’s Monument Valley or Mann’s rigid mountain tops or gunfighting protagonists like Shane (Alan Ladd in Shane, 1953) and John T. Chance (John Wayne in Rio Bravo, 1959). It is this legend/myth created by these films and characters that keep audiences and scholars interested.

The most recognizable icon in the Western, other than the dusty landscape itself, is the male gunfighter. This character is usually the heroic figure that traditionally saves the day and rides off into the sunset. In “Civilization and its Discontents: The Self-Sufficient Western Hero,” Douglas J. Den Uyl breaks apart the inner working of the famous protagonist. The most common trait of the Western hero is his ability to rely on himself (sometimes herself). Den Uyl connects the idea of self-sufficiency with Aristotle’s works such as Nicomachean Ethics, which argues that happiness is created by a virtuous act. The Western hero is certainly self-sufficient, generally virtuous and rarely needing or asking the help of anyone else.  The predominantly male gunfighter’s selfless acts are generally seen by his defense of the civilization that is threatened by the savage wilderness that surrounds it. Discussing this character, Den Uyl says that “virtue of courage is almost always present, and some form of the virtue of justice is typically part of the hero’s character as well” (38). Such tropes have transcended the history of the genre and can be seen through The Ringo Kid (John Wayne) in Stagecoach to Ransom Stoddard (Jimmy Stewart) in The Man Who Shot Liberty Valence. The virtuous gunfighter character was also famously inverted in Clint Eastwood’s Unforgiven (1992).

Of course, sometimes the virtue is justified for a character by their desire for revenge as it was for Ethan Edwards (John Wayne) in The Searchers (1956). This kind of individualism is personified through both self-reliance and self-motivation, much of which comes from their past experiences (the author mentions the general lack of rookies in Westerns). Den Uyl importantly notes that “Western heroes are likely to be men guided by reason and would not be heroes if they were not” (39). The reason that drives these heroes is one that is deeply personal. The Western hero is dedicated to his own ideas of truth and virtue (which are often deconstructed in later Westerns) that create his moral compass. This is why he must always ride off alone as he represents the ultimate in rugged individualism. When self-reliance is gone it becomes “a license for mob rule” (47), which is what is addressed in the great Henry Fonda film, The Ox-Bow Incident (1943) that shows the destructive nature of group-think. Den Uyl declares the Western genre the best representation of American virtue.

Additional essays in The Philosophy of the Western deal with the role of women in Westerns as well as legendary career of Clint Eastwood as both an actor and director in the genre. There is also a piece about the HBO series Deadwood and the Coen brother’s No Country for Old Men. As Kitses explained in Horizon’s West (12), all conflicts in the Western come down to a dust up between civilization (order) and wilderness (chaos). Of course, it is not always clean cut as it is always evolving, which is why study of the genre is still warranted. The Philosophy of the Western continues to purge the many meanings beneath the surface of the films in this monumental genre. Fans of the genre or anyone looking to research the Western will not want to miss this anthology full of useful essays about the oldest and arguably the most dynamic genre in Hollywood.

TCM recently aired a seven part documentary on the foundation of Hollywood through 1970 that covered about eighty years of film history. This impossible task was a nice change of pace for the network and hopefully will spark a follow up series. However, taking on so much history in such a short amount of time forced the show to grossly oversimplify certain elements and leave other crucial happenings completely out of the picture. Sure, there were more conservatives in Hollywood in 1940 than today, but the political landscape was different (conservatives and liberals joined against Fascism and Socialism, for starters).

Big Hollywood’s John Nolte, who certainly knows a thing or two about classic Hollywood, recently caught up on Moguls and Movie Stars and was not happy. His criticism was that the series dwelled on the idea that the Studio System, complete with a self-censoring office, held back the full potential of the film industry. Nolte makes a great point in telling us that this doesn’t mean that Hollywood’s full potential is necessarily better. The same reason I argued that conservatives love TCM is why so many people prefer classic films over the new garbage spewing from Tinsel Town. Nolte notes that the series constantly reminds us of why the moguls and their politics were in the way, which is far from the truth:

“Most importantly, these were the men who created, oversaw, guided, and managed an industry that earned the affection of the free world for decades through the bringing together of all the arts — performance, design, dance, music, lighting, the written word — into works that still capture our imaginations. Compare that to today’s Hollywood, an industry that’s now a culturally divisive punch line in jokes about sequels, remakes, spoiled celebrities, and self-importance.”

The truth is that Hollywood would be nothing without men like Jack Warner, Walt Disney, Adolf Zukor, Irving Thalberg, David O. Selznick and many, many more like them. Sure, most of these guys were conservative (leftist historians constantly remind us of this but forget these moguls, many who were immigrants, embodied the American Dream), but the truth is what they did worked. Thomas Schatz, author of the excellent study on the Studio Era The Genius of the System, explores how the system wasn’t perfect, “but somehow it worked, and it worked well.” The nature of the Studio System was conflicted, but it was also drastically more collaborative than most of today’s productions.

While I enjoyed Moguls and Movie Stars, as a film historian it was frustrating to see the single network dedicated to classic filmmaking show such ignorance to some of the most important aspects of the system. They didn’t explain why it worked, only that the conservative moguls were tyrants who oppressed actors and filmmakers. On some occasions they did, but it doesn’t come close to the whole picture. Even director Peter Bogdanovich, who was interviewed for the series, explains that another seven hours or more is necessary to get a better picture of Hollywood. While Bogdanovich (who is also a film historian) may approve of the historical slant of the series, I assume he realizes the oversights that were made.

It takes much more than a matter of hours to understand the depth of the Hollywood Studio System. I have been studying film history for many years and am still continually digging into this magnificent and engaging era. Anyone who loves classic movies and is told that the Golden Age was only full of oppression, censorship and blacklisting needs to do further research on their own. It is impossible to picture Martin Scorsese without Raoul Walsh, John Hughes without Frank Capra or the Coen brothers without Billy Wilder. The Golden Age demanded excellence and has earned eternal respect from anyone who takes the time to see the whole picture.

Remember, the Studio System was a success not a travesty. More people will be appreciating classics like Casablanca, Gone with the Wind, and It’s a Wonderful Life than will be watching Avatar, Harry Potter, or even good films like The Social Network in the next year. Why is this? Because the Studio System continuously churned out great pictures by the month instead of by the decade. Films of the Golden Age were driven more by what the public wanted and less by political ideology, the greatness of this era will no doubt trump today’s Hollywood for many years to come.

‘The Bridge on the River Kwai’

David Lean’s films are famous for being beautiful and scenic, something that can make or break an epic film.  Lean, who was later to make Lawrence of Arabia and Doctor Zhivago, directed this film which starred such greats as Alec Guinness and William Holden. Like any other truly wonderful film, The Bridge on the River Kwai has stood the test of time. It is an epic action film that flows brilliantly from beginning to end and is exactly the kind of film that deserves a Blu-ray restoration.

Like The Searchers, The Bridge on the River Kwai was filmed in Technicolor and provides a glorious 1080p picture. The enormous landscape of this film was perfect for one of the early uses of widescreen and looks like it could have been filmed yesterday. The mountains, trees, wildlife and the roaring River Kwai all look breathtaking. If only David Lean could see the treatment his film was given, he sure would be proud of it.

Special features include a short film from USC introduced by William Holden discussing how the audience views The Bridge on the River Kwai, a making of feature, appreciation by filmmaker John Milius who calls Kwai “a Citizen Kane grade film.” One thing is for sure, this movie gets better with every viewing and the Blu-ray disk is a great way to rediscover the film and its excellent photography and characters all over again.

‘Charade’

Stanley Donen’s great thriller is certainly the one Hitchcock film that Hitch never made. Clever dialogue with macabre wit, murder, humor, beautiful characters – it has all of the workings of the best thrillers of classic Hollywood. Cary Grant and Audrey Hepburn play off each other with elegance and class that could not be duplicated. The film also co-stars Walter Matthau and James Coburn; both of whom add believable characters to the screen.

Charade looks better than ever on Blu-ray, though the bonus features are not as elaborate as we’ve come to expect with Criterion. The bulk of it is audio commentary from director Stanley Donen and screenwriter Peter Stone (which is always helpful). Regardless, any fan of the film will enjoy seeing Grant and Hepburn in beautiful 1080p. Seeing two of the greatest movie stars in history on this transfer will leave you yearning for their future upgrades to Blu-ray.

This is a great film for anyone frustrated with the lack of star power in today’s Hollywood. Hepburn had many great performances in her career, but Charade has long been my favorite. The film is fun from beginning to end; it’s the kind of movie that refuses to age (though the much of the score feels delightfully sixties-esque). The film has no agenda other than to delight its audience. Needless to say it delivers, which is exactly why it’s a great Christmas gift for the film buff in your life.

‘Apocalypse Now: Full Disclosure’

One of the greatest war films of all time has made a beautiful transformation to Blu-ray in the Apocalypse Now: Full Disclosure box set. Francis Ford Coppola’s war epic looks breathtaking in amazing 1080p. The first time I saw this film was on VHS, which was a very different experience than even the DVD release. The Blu-ray gives the night scenes brilliance nearly unseen on VHS and brings new vibrancy to the daytime sequences. Most notably, the famous beach landing sequence looks wonderful with both sound and video quality better than anyone could imagine.

The set contains three disks, one with the theatrical release and the redux, for those interested in the overlong plantation sequence among other small additions. The second disk contains a wealth of special features such as lengthy new interviews with Coppola himself, star Martin Sheen and writer John Milius that are very informative. The third disk, one of the greatest attributes to this set, is the documentary Hearts of Darkness: a Filmmaker’s Apocalypse.

Previous sets and versions of Apocalypse Now never included Hearts of Darkness, which is one of the best “making of” documentaries ever in my humble opinion. The process of making Apocalypse Now was far more complicated and disastrous than anyone could imagine, and it was all caught on tape and audio from Coppola’s wife. From issues with the local government, monsoons, actors were getting fired and Martin Sheen having a heart attack, setbacks of all kinds nearly ruined the production. Anyone who is a fan of Apocalypse Now needs to see this documentary, which is part of the most glorious release the film has ever seen.

Other great classic films transferred to Blu-ray in time for Christmas: Night of the Hunter (criterion), Doctor Zhivago, Back to the Future trilogy, North by Northwest, Bonnie and Clyde and Psycho.

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Local filmmaker Hope Anderson set out to chronicle the beginnings of the Beachwood community, where the Hollywood sign resides on top of Mt. Lee. Throughout Under the Hollywood Sign we learn a great deal about how the land was settled, the origins of the film industry, and the local history in terms of the culture of its progressing community as told by residents of Beachwood Canyon. There is a lot more to “Hollywood” than meets the imagination. Below the sign is a small town, deep with history that only adds to the iconic image of the Hollywood sign.

In an area that was once owned by Mexico and was a place of vast orchards and was famous for its rural appeal, the community began to grow as a spiritual epicenter that reveled in alternative religions. For example, The Theosophical Society sought to combine many denominations but never took off on a large scale due to its tendency for cult-like practices. At the same time, the film industry was on the rise, and quickly. It didn’t take long before Beachwood became home to an emblem that is a celebrity all on its own.

The Hollywood sign was erected in 1923 as a real estate advertisement and read “Hollywoodland.” Up until 1939, the sign was lit by light bulbs that illuminated the sign in three sections, “Holly,” “Wood,” “Land,” before flashing as one word. The sign wasn’t originally meant to stay up forever, so it was built cheaply and quickly (some letters propped up by ladders). The “Land” part was demolished in 1949 and by the 1970s the sign was a crumbling disaster. Many celebrities such as Hugh Hefner came to the rescue, helping raise enough money to demolish and restore the sign in 1978.

The history of the Beachwood community is not all hopes and dreams, however. In 1932, struggling actress Peg Entwistle was in a difficult place. After losing her parents at a young age and going through an ugly marriage, her once promising film career began to show signs of weakness. Uncertainty brought on by the Great Depression was hitting everyone, Peg was no exception. After giving up hope of her next potential employer, she decided to climb Mount Lee, ascend a latter that was holding up the “H” of the Hollywood sign and jumped to her death. Her suicide changed the sign from a billboard to a cultural icon as well as sparked the well-known stereotype of the desperate, struggling actress.

Anderson also made a short film about Entwistle’s last walk to the sign, see it here. Without question, the sign represents progress and destruction, success and failure. It has dream-like qualities that attract tourists by the droves but also has a looming dark side. Like any major monument, the sign represents an extensive spectrum of feelings and emotions. As a graduate film student the sign means new things to me every day, but even as a child the sign was seen a beacon of hopeful uncertainty. There is a reason people used to refer to the studios in Hollywood as “dream factories.” Though, there is also truth behind dark films such as Sunset Boulevard, In a Lonely Place, and Mulholland Drive that bring us face to face with Hollywood’s dark side.

The beautiful photography and extensive research presented in Under the Hollywood Sign gives us a new prospective of the famous sign as well as the surrounding village. Anyone who has been to Beachwood knows that it gives off a very small town feel, even though it is so near to gridlock traffic and pedestrian congestion. The film tells the fascinating story of this neighborhood that “hides in plain sight.” From billboard to monument, the Hollywood sign represents the many transformations of the people and region that surround it. This film shows us why we should not ignore the sign’s dynamic nature and overwhelming significance.

The History of Beachwood parallels both the history of Los Angeles and the film industry. The sheer sight of the famous sign is only the beginning; in order to truly grasp the meaning of it you must read deeper. Anderson makes a useful comparison to the Vietnam War Memorial, which also has to be read in order to be really understood. There is much more than meets the eye to the Hollywood sign, which begins with the story of Beachwood. If you are interested in the history of the film industry or otherwise, make a point to take a look at this documentary that highlights the little town that resides under the Hollywood sign.

Click here to purchase Under the Hollywood Sign. 

On September 10th and 11th, 2006, The Path to 9/11 aired to an audience of 28 million viewers gaining seven Emmy nominations. It was a major success for ABC and Disney. Everyone involved was proud of the unbiased portrayal they created about the lead up to 9/11 from the 1993 attack on the WTC to September 2001. However, the miniseries almost didn’t air when the leftists began to circle their wagons before even seeing the film.  It is eerily similar to when yellow journalist William Randolph Hearst rallied his troops in Hollywood to get all copies of Citizen Kane destroyed in 1941. Fortunately, you can still watch Orson Welles’ great film.

As chronicled in the great documentary, Blocking The Path to 9/11, the Clinton camp got wind of The Path to 9/11 after the first half of it aired for the National Press Club. Shortly thereafter, their machine began to chew away at the project. Pundits and policymakers who had not seen a frame of celluloid rallied against the film as some kind of right-wing propaganda. The silly accusations have been refuted on numerous occasions by people involved with the project. Cyrus Nowrasteh who wrote and produced The Path to 9/11 has commented about his approach to the film:

The tactics of these Washington lawmakers — and their supporters — are no less than modern McCarthyism, something historians are keen to study, as long as it’s fifty years ago. MoveOn.org sent out e–mails demanding the movie be “yanked,” and accusing me of being a “right-wing activist who fabricated key scenes to blame Democrats and defend Republicans.” Anyone who has seen the movie knows this last claim is ridiculous. We are just as hard on the Bush administration failures as we are on those of the Clinton administration.

First, anyone who actually took the time to watch the film knows it is the most accurate account about the pre-9/11 world to date (ABC had it fact checked extensively before airing). Second, anyone who has ever met Cyrus knows he is not only one of the nicest guys in Hollywood, but he is most certainly not driven primarily by any political party. He is a filmmaker first and foremost; his primary goal is always to make a truthful picture. Take a look at his track record of films; it’s hardly a canon of partisanship. Cyrus comments about his drive for honesty:

I am neither an activist, politician or partisan, nor an ideologue of any stripe. What I am is a writer who takes his job very seriously, as do most of my colleagues: Also, one who recently took on the most distressing and important story it will ever fall to me to tell. I considered it a privilege when asked to write the script for “The Path to 9/11.” I felt duty-bound from the outset to focus on a single goal–to represent our recent pre-9/11 history as the evidence revealed it to be. The American people deserve to know that history: They have paid for it in blood. Like all Americans, I wish it were not so. I wish there were no terrorists. I wish there had been no 9/11. I wish we could squabble among ourselves in assured security. But wishes avail nothing.

The spin surrounding this film continues to this day, we started a Facebook group (join here) dedicated to keeping people informed about the censorship around The Path to 9/11. On more than one occasion the group was flagged as “abusive” and was shut down. Of course, the page always goes back up because there is nothing abusive about it. Please join the page and sign the petition (provided here) and pass it along to anyone interested in stopping censorship in Hollywood. Our goal is to make sure people know why this successful film has been buried. When asked, Disney always uses the same cop out, “it’s a business decision.” Big Hollywood’s own Mark Tapson worked on The Path to 9/11 and commented about it earlier this year:

Tom Borelli, however, is not baffled by this business plan. Director of the National Center for Public Policy Research’s Free Enterprise Project and a Disney shareholder, Borelli knows that this has less to do with a “business decision” and more to do with an ABC television project that drove former President Bill Clinton to near-apoplexy in his infamous interview with Chris Wallace, and which by extension is perceived to be a threat to the political future of Mrs. Clinton. Borelli has pointed out that Iger has been a steady Clinton donor since before the former first lady was elected to the Senate, and has accused Iger of protecting Hillary’s presidential campaign at the expense of shareholders. (Path screenwriter/producer Cyrus Nowrasteh himself was told privately by an ABC executive that “If Hillary weren’t running for President, this wouldn’t be a problem.”)

There was nothing wrong with the film and ABC knows it. In fact, the network planned on airing it annually in memory of the victims on 9/11. Unfortunately, political intimidation and censorship is still alive and well in America. It is our job to let Washington know they cannot censor us or decide what films we can and cannot watch. We must keep fighting to get The Path to 9/11 out of its locked state so people who want to see it can. It is important that we don’t give up and let the Clinton’s Stalinist fist have the final say in Hollywood. For more information please see the documentary Blocking The Path to 9/11 before the Clinton’s make another Hearst-esque maneuver.

Davis Guggenheim

It is refreshing that the film’s director, Davis Guggenheim (who directed An Inconvenient Truth), is able to put politics aside to see the destructive nature of teachers unions. Guggenheim put his own kids through private school but realizes that not everyone can afford such a luxury. Here, he sets out to tackle the real problems that have long plagued public school systems: teachers unions. Though, he is careful to say that he isn’t bashing unions in general.

Guggenheim sees that not everything has to be a political football, which is why we should applaud him for taking a bipartisan approach. However, some feel that the response to the film shows the true, negative colors of conservatives. Liberal Patrick Goldstein comments in the Los Angeles Times:

If you’re a documentary filmmaker, you’re happy to get rave reviews from any source, since you need all the good PR you can get. But I find it revealing, when it comes to the liberal vs. conservative partisan divide, that whenever Michael Moore releases a new documentary promoting a liberal cause, conservatives are quick to bash him for being a left-wing propagandist. But when Guggenheim makes a film offering wholehearted support for a conservative cause, liberal critics have written just as many glowing reviews as conservative ones. (The film has a sky-high 93 fresh rating at Rotten Tomatoes.) What does that tell you about who’s got the most open mind here?

First of all, only looking at Michael Moore and Davis Guggenheim as leftists is a bit single minded (even though they are). Sure, they both have done their partisan films, but one is far worse than the other. Big Hollywood’s editor-in-chief John Nolte has even gone as far as to defend Moore when he was appointed to the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences’ Board of Governors:

Yes, Michael Moore is a liar, a shameless propagandist and an anti-American leftist of the highest order. But he’s also one helluva talented filmmaker and it would be wildly hypocritical for me to believe or argue that anyone should be blacklisted from AMPAS due to their political beliefs. And that’s the only reason I could possibly use to argue against this appointment.

It doesn’t get any fairer than a conservative defending Moore because not doing so would support a blacklist mindset. Even still, Moore has dedicated his career to leftist causes.  Look at his films: Bowling for Columbine (a good film that ends up ruining itself with a weak plea for gun control), Fahrenheit 9/11 (a horribly partisan and dishonest portrayal of Bush enabling conspiracy theorists), and Sicko (a disgusting defense of socialism). Everything Moore directs (and writes and says) is to further a far Left agenda. Therefore, he is so painfully predictable, which is why it is so easy for the Right to go after him.

On the other hand, Guggenheim has directed the paranoid global warming holy film An Inconvenient Truth as well as a short for the 2008 Obama campaign. Yet Guggenheim differs from Moore in that he has also done a lot more work outside of political documentaries. If you look at his profile from imdb.com you will see he has directed episodes of Deadwood, Numbers, Alias, and even the conservative loved 24, a show Moore wouldn’t touch in fear of losing his leftist cred. Sure, An Inconvenient Truth is praised by leftists and hated by conservatives (generally speaking), but by creating a wide variety of content, Guggenheim gives an opportunity for both conservatives and liberals to appreciate his work.

So it isn’t fair to assert that liberals are better than conservatives because critics on the Left show balls by embracing a leftist filmmaker who makes a conservative argument (when the Right won’t respect Moore). The day that Moore steps outside of his self-loathing, socialist-loving fog bubble is when conservatives can respect him. Anyone who is honest about their politics will find good and bad on both sides. Guggenheim has apparently done this with Waiting for Superman. Until Moore decides to transform some of his propaganda films into useful documentaries, we will continue to wait, but I wouldn’t recommend holding your breath.

Ebert appears to be comfortable with the idea of doing absolutely nothing. When you convince yourself that there is no answer and disaster is inevitable, I suppose it helps justify your lack of interest in the crisis. We are lucky that there are actually people who won’t give up and continue to desperately try to save the Gulf (see Bobby Jindal and Kevin Costner).

Like Obama did in his last address, Ebert shows little or no remorse for the environment at stake and instead uses this disaster to push a different agenda. This week in the Chicago Sun-Times Ebert expresses his frustration with criticism from the Right:

Obama is under relentless attack now from the Right. That’s a great help. I have been arguing in his defense, asking, please, what can he do to “handle” the crisis? We are told he hasn’t seemed “concerned” enough. He flies to the Gulf states for his fourth trip and is attacked for having a goddamn ice cream cone. He expresses concern. He says he’s mad. He gives a speech from the Oval Office in which he comes up with no answers because there are none.

No, Obama comes up with zero answers because he refuses to stop campaigning. You can say you wish something could be done all you want, but that doesn’t help, either. We need people who will actually do something. Most people aren’t mad because he went to the Gulf and ate ice cream, they are mad because he continuously “acts” like he is going to make a difference instead of actually doing so. We know it is bad when even Spike Lee sees Obama’s lack of interest.

When we write a review bashing a film, it is always useful to tell the readers why it could have been better, what the director, actors or writers could have improved. Ebert has been exercising this for decades, why can’t he use the same logic for the oil spill and the president? Instead, Ebert echoes Obama by ignoring the crisis at hand and tells us the only thing that can be done:

There’s obviously only one remedy: An energy revolution. We must reduce consumption and develop clean energy alternatives. We try to avoid this overwhelming fact.

Just like the current administration, Ebert wants to ignore the crisis and exploit this crisis to discuss future “revolutions” while our Gulf goes to hell in a hand basket. Replace the oil with a clean energy, fine. I agree, change is probably good in the long run, but why don’t we start by stopping the leak and changing the Gulf back into the beautiful environment it once was? It’s not too late; Ebert’s defeatist attitude is exactly what will guarantee the worst for the Gulf if the same is kept up by our government.

Ebert continues:

We liberals mocked Sarah Palin’s “drill, baby, drill!” because she wanted to drill in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge. If there’s anything liberals love more than Sarah Palin does, it’s wildlife.

Well, you guys have a funny way of showing it. Ebert’s article is littered with pictures of oily, dead birds and fish. What Ebert apparently fails to admit at length is that there is much more at stake than the reputations of a country or corporation or even the future of energy consumption. Ebert’s answer to this crisis is to prove his loyalty to loving wildlife by saying “oh well” to the spill and push for clean energy, a revolution the Left has dreamed about for decades. Sure, we can have the discussion about clean energy but that doesn’t matter right now. The Gulf desperately needs our attention and we will get nowhere by taking Ebert’s advice.

The truth is the Ebert and the power in Washington don’t really care about the Gulf, wildlife or otherwise. It’s an agenda thing, check out PETA’s homepage. You would think they would be all over this oil spill trying to save animals in danger but instead we are asked to vote for the “sexiest vegetarian celebrities,” now isn’t that courageous?

We all know this spill supports Ebert’s dream of a “clean and green” future, if only he could come out and say it; the oil-drenched wildlife is just collateral damage.