One of my favorite directors, and one of the genuine voices of my generation, Kevin Smith has done what we all must do from time to time. He has, in just a few weeks, reinvented himself. Smith launched his own Internet radio station this week. It seems like it’s going to work. And just like when Dr. Reese got peanut butter on his chocolate or vice versa, it was an accident.

Since 1994, I’ve been a Kevin Smith junkie. Something about the gloriously foul words that flew from his characters’ mouths spoke to a yearning in my soul to say whatever the fuck I want. As Smith went through the normal progression of life (marriage, kids, success, failure, etc), so did his audience. I always just seemed to be at a place in my life where his work informed my own. I even paid homage to “Mallrats” in my first flick with a fun little animated blueprint sequence a la Jay and Silent Bob. I’ve followed (and written about) his career, to include the very beginnings of his new venture.

Back in early 2007, Smith was looking for a way to more consistently hang out with his good friend and producing partner Scott Mosier. The duo decided to get together on a weekly basis, to record their conversations and release them as a podcast, merely as a way to hold themselves accountable for some man-on-man time (I mean that in a non-sexual way, but really, these two should just get it over with). People – including me – listened and the show, called “SModcast,” became the top podcast on iTunes.

Flash forward three years, and Smith had added several more podcasts, hosted by him and others in his Askewniverse. Some were short series, but there was a core of 7 broadcasts, one released each day of the week. Sponsors came in (“came” being the operative word here, as the first sponsor was “Fleshlight”… you can look that one up on your own) to offset costs and make the network profitable. Meanwhile, Smith made the heartfelt revelation that he was enjoying podcasting more than making films. He’s said that “Hit Somebody,” a film based on a song written for Warren Zevon by “Tuesdays with Morrie” author Mitch Albom, would be the last film he’d direct, for at least a while. He needed a break from the movies.

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First, some background.

Two years ago, on a cloudy and cold Saturday morning, I met a guy in a K-Mart parking lot to hand him the cash in exchange for the goods. We nervously approached each other, after he arrived in his beat up ’89 Grand Am. I gave him the money and he gave me my fix… enough to keep my girlfriend Jamie and me happy for a few weeks. After I checked each “Smallville: Season 4” DVD for scratches, the deal was done. I headed home and we watched five episodes that day.

For me, the show has always been about young Clark Kent’s ascension to greatness. He knows, and the show explores, that he was delivered to Earth to rescue mankind from its own frailties. In fact, “Smallville” added a piece of mythology to the story: that his father Jor-El of Krypton specifically chose the town of Smallville, Kansas, right in the heart of the United States of America because his dense molecular structure could help the world (via Clark’s learned perspective as the adopted son of middle-Americans who would teach him morality) to regain moral balance.

Painting by Michael Wilson

Deeper “Superman” mythology aside, the narrative of “Smallville” is light and airy. It deals with the very-heavy-at-the-time-but-not-really-consequential stuff we all dealt with as teenagers. My favorite shot from all 10 seasons is from Season 2 – a solitary shot of Clark, alone in his barn-loft hangout. He had just been watching through his telescope as Lana Lang reconciles with her boyfriend (who Clark used his superpowers to save, denying himself the chance to win the girl). He is alone and sad in his power, and hangs his head… cut to black. That inner struggle makes the show worthwhile. It has also, at times, been a bit like the teeny-bopper-rock-pop my daughter listens to, and that I genuinely, genuinely enjoy.

Go to hell. So what if I like autotuned vocals and melodic guitar riffs over manufactured drum tracks that have been Focus-Group tested by Nickelodeon and Disney and that tie into their programming?

The show spent its nine seasons arcing through both Clark’s internal struggle and Superman mythology. It’s done a better job than not of both adding to and borrowing from the existing canon. Tom Welling has proven to be a perfect casting choice from Day 1, bringing a beautiful humanity to the Kryptonian savior (I’d rather he play Supes in the upcoming WB/Zack Snyder reboot, but since Snyder is the most badassed director of comics-turned-flicks on earth, I trust his judgment). It has also inspired a devout following of people who know right from wrong, and who believe you should do whatever you can to help people remain free to pursue their own happiness. After nine seasons, it was time to wind down the show.

And now, the point.

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Michael Moore simply makes it too easy for me to go back to the well. I like to write about stuff other than the guy I made a flick about many years ago, but every now and again I open my email accounts to find myself inundated with questions from friends, fans and reporters about what I think about the latest Moore dust-up. This week, Moore sued Bob and Harvey Weinstein for a boatload of money he claims they hid from him in the accounting for “Fahrenheit 9/11” and I’ve been asked repeatedly what I think.

First, I see no problem with Moore suing the Weinsteins. If Moore’s audit showed irregularities, he should go after the dough. As someone who’s seen this very issue first hand, I can tell you that it is extraordinarily painful to see someone else spending your money on a big, expensive lunch, while smiling at you from across the table. Moore sued, they’ll likely settle, nobody will be happy, and in their unhappiness, they’ll all know they got a good deal.

But Mike Moore (and to some extent, the Weinsteins) has made a living espousing socialism and communism, wherein the government divvies up the money. You don’t like the result? Well, you can go fuck yourself, because you ain’t suin’ the government. And if you do, your monthly bag of government rice might come with a little hole in the bottom that allowed half of it to leak out during transit.

And that juxtaposition is what we in fly-over country most dislike about Hollywood. While we dig the music and the shallow celebrities we follow on TMZ and provide the bulk of the ticket receipts for the flicks, it’s the juxtaposition of big, rich guys using the system we espouse – where courts ARE one of the few Constitutional functions of government to help settle such disputes, and where we think Mike, Bob and Harvey should be able to make ungodly amounts of money and spend it however the hell they want – versus the ideology of slavish socialism they wish to inflict on those of us who can’t fly to Cannes on a private jet at any given moment.

It’s not just hypocritical (as my friend Penn says of hypocrites: “If someone does one thing and says another, it only doubles their chances of being half right”), but I think it’s immoral. It’s immoral to literally strive and campaign for your fellow Americans to lose their rights to do the things you have done to take yourself from being unemployed in Davison, Michigan to a “multi, multi-millionaire” (and let’s give Moore credit, he IS a self-made “multi, multi-millionaire”). (more…)

American Chopper: Senior Versus Junior is reminding me, and many other entrepreneurs about everything right and wrong about business. But also, it’s reminding us about the best and worst of ourselves… that part of us that gets sucked into the limelight and spit out. The part that longs for approval. The part that pleads to be loved. Or, most importantly, wants to build something beautiful in life. 

Back in 2003, at about the same time I was getting my hand pretty far up fame’s skirt (just before her dad walked in the room and kicked my ass), I found Discovery and Pilgrim Entertainment’s “American Chopper,” a reality show about the Teutuls, a family of rough-and-tumble men who own Orange County Choppers (Orange County, NY… not CA). They build some of the most beautiful custom choppers on the road, but the appeal of the show is that, because we’re dealing with a father and his sons, they fight. A lot.

The show featured a classic battle between an overbearing, strict father and a creative son with a penchant for showing up late to work. As Paul Teutul, Sr. pushed Paul Jr. to adhere to the company rules, Paul Jr. pushed for more creative and business freedom, and the show that made it possible for them to grow into a full-on motorcycle factory brought fame and fortune for both, their egos and bank accounts grew exponentially. 

But because these are real men, who take challenges to their egos and masculinity seriously, the show ended with a fiery argument, with the father firing the son (along with a big chair, a few garbage cans and a bunch of tools being thrown with the force of a 103 cubic-inch V-twin at full throttle). 

Discovery couldn’t make a show without both men and canceled the show after its long run. Then Paul Tuetul, Sr. sued his son for a million dollars in stock options, vowing to crush his progeny beneath the weight of the litigation. You would think that a bad economy (the principals acknowledge that OCC has been losing money), the loss of the company’s creative force and the stress of a legal fight amongst family members would bring calamity. But these aren’t well-coiffed, manicured, metrosexual Hollywood reality TV stars we’re dealing with. They’re real men who build badass machines.  (more…)

My lady and I have a weekly date with the TV. We’ve been roped into watching violent criminals attempt to destroy private property and injure other human beings. No, not “Real Housewives of New Jersey” (though the definition may fit), but Animal Planet’s “Whale Wars,” a show about some bug-nutty leftist eco-terrorists who think the lives of whales are more important than those of human beings. Its season finale is tonight and you should check it out, but not for the reasons you think.

Acid attack

In case you, unlike me, have a life and stuff to do on Friday nights, let me recap the premise of the show. It follows a group of eco-terrorists (led by Paul Watson, a vegan wanted for sinking alleged whaling ships while they were in harbor under repairs – bravery, if ever there was an example – who has called for human population control, and who was so extreme he was tossed out of Greenpeace), as they throw butyric acid, smoke bombs and fire projectiles at Japanese whalers (yes, they are indeed whalers), and attempt to sink their vessels in the freezing Antarctic waters, perhaps killing their crews. The “Sea Shepherds” as they call themselves (a name that calls to mind peaceful days on green hills, rather than the violence the group openly embraces), also constantly devise ways to destroy the props or engines of the Japanese vessels, stranding the crewmen, and I presume, to leaving them to die. That’s it. I think we’re supposed to root for these guys, given the narrative arc of the show.

One of the most highlighted personalities on the show is Pete Bethune, a wealthy New Zealander who got his start searching for oil in Libya (irony) and spending his vacations hunting and fishing (more irony). Pete is constantly talking about ways to destroy the Japanese vessels and, in one episode started a fire on one of the Sea Shepard ships building a high-powered oxygen torch to cut through the Japanese propellers. The season finale is all about Pete Bethune.  (more…)

A few weeks ago, I was going to write a piece demolishing a classic Hollywood Liberal who I’d been conversing with. I was going to take his Big-Government ideas and jam them squarely up his $Xmilllion-per-picture ass.  But the more I thought about how I felt about the origin story of this article, the less comfortable I became. I don’t think @ghostpanther is evil and I’d be lying to you if I followed that original path.

Adam McKay, the director of films like “Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy” and “Stepbrothers” and I have been entrenched in a Twitter-based back and forth for months. An epic battle where only one man can be left standing. It’s like “Highlander.” There can be only one.

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John Nolte, the Editor-in-Chief of Big Hollywood emailed me last night and asked if I had any interest in doing a piece about The Onion wishing Glenn Beck dead in this video. At first, I thought maybe it was a job for Wolf Blitzer, but then remembered that Glenn is “somewhat” reviled at CNN and they might not fact-check a bit on him. But I felt compelled to write for two reasons: the first is that Glenn and I have a mutual friend who frequently says “the answer to bad speech is more speech,” the second is that John’s request immediately reminded me of a phone call I received from the Canadian Broadcasting Company a few years back. (Bet you didn’t think I could work everything from the headline into one paragraph, did you?)

After I made “Michael Moore Hates America,” I spent several years (and still occasionally) doing interviews for the press on movie stuff. They’d always call me, because, you know, I’m a crazy, angry right-wing nut job and I’d made the only “conservative” documentary any of them had ever heard of. Something controversial would happen in the world of cinema, my phone would ring for a few days and then I’d go back to my life. In one episode, I received a call from the CBC. They wanted to know if I could do a satellite interview with them on an evening news talk show. The topic was the about-to-be-released film “Death of a President” where President George W. Bush was digitally assassinated. (more…)

Russell Simmons confuses me. He’s one of the finest examples we have of an American kid from the most difficult circumstances imaginable hustling and struggling and pulling himself up by his own bootstraps to create a life for himself that is, in a word, extraordinary. Yet instead of inspiring other poor African American kids who are in the position he once was with his story of hard work and perseverance, Simmons spreads religious silliness and tells those kids to put their hope in government. And last week, he did both at the same time. I wish Simmons were an atheist.

As many of you who frequent this blog know (and often condemn me for), I believe there is no god. That’s quite different from saying “I don’t believe in God.” When I say I believe there is no god, I mean that in this vast universe (or maybe multiverse) I don’t choose to not believe in a god, but that there is no god to not believe in. There’s a distinction, and I’m very certain where I stand. It’s deeply personal to me, and I don’t really begrudge those who choose to believe that an invisible man lives in the sky. Sometimes people need to believe in something more, I suppose, even if it’s not real. And while I recognize I’m in the minority, and I’m happy to argue religion and god with you, I won’t push my thoughts on you unless you ask. But I wish that Russell Simmons could put aside the idea of God or Allah for a while. It would be more honest and it would certainly help a lot more people. (more…)

Dear Adam,

We’ve gone back and forth this week, with me writing here at Big Hollywood and you Tweeting responses. The lastest from @GhostPanther came directly to @Wilson_Michael and you asked me a question. I have an answer, but I think there’s a better way to have this conversation. And that’s what this should be… a conversation that takes place within the arena of ideas.

Adam McKay

This is important stuff and I’m fascinated by how two fellow Americans can see the world so differently. We probably both think we believe in freedom and liberty. We likely both think that we should take care of the poor. I know we both believe everyone should get the very best health care possible. How we get there while keeping our nation free is up for debate.

So let’s do it. Let’s have the debate. I challenge you to debate me on health care reform. (more…)

I have apparently raised the ire of Adam McKay, the rich and powerful film director who brought us “Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy” and “Step Brothers.” In a Tweet on Tuesday, McKay says that my last article (about Will Ferrell decrying insurance executives) was “sub-moronic.” He also goes on in that Tweet to say that insurance executives kill 20,000 people a year by denying claims on purpose. My question to McKay: “Are you kidding me?”

Adam McKay

While Adam McKay has been so good at his job at times that he’s left me rolling on the floor unable to breathe, and I think Ferrell is funny as hell, I am astonished that a self-righteous multimillionaire like McKay would tell you that you have to do something by force that he won’t do by choice.

That is cynicism in its purest form. McKay presumes that people are inherently bad and that they must be forced to do what is “good” or “noble” or “decent.” He presumes that human beings are hardwired to be un-compassionate and uncaring. Cynicism is a lie and it’s easy to convince others to be cynics right along with you. You can go on hating your fellow humans and you can all be miserable together, searching for a villain to direct your hate toward (like a CEO). (more…)

Will Ferrell and the fine folks over at “Funny or Die” are picking the low hanging fruit once again. This time they’re going after nameless, faceless “Insurance Executives” in a “satirical” PSA about government-run insurance. But the real comedy is watching a bunch of multimillionaires who do make-believe for a living opine about other people making too much money.

I’m a big fan of comedy. I’m a stand-up junkie, growing up on late-night HBO comedy specials (I’d seen everything Carlin had done by age 11). I got into film making because Kevin Smith made it accessible through foul, filthy and hilarious dialogue that has always hit me where I live. And I don’t believe anything is off limits. It just strikes me as strange that people with extraordinary talent like Ferrell and company would be so off-the-mark with a piece that dives into the political world so deeply. (more…)

For better or worse, I have spent the last six years or so as a “go-to” authority on Michael Moore. In 2002, he said some things about my country that I was hurt by and some things about life that I held to be untrue. I set out to make my first film, a little documentary called “Michael Moore Hates America” and began a journey that would be at times inspiring and disheartening. Hundreds of thousands, if not millions of people have seen that movie, but I’m now ready to close that chapter of my life with a few words about Mr. Moore and his opus on the death of American capitalism.

In the 1980s, Michael Moore was broke. He saw things he believed to be wrong in the world and set out to tell a story about them. His first movie “Roger and Me” was a success. He followed it with a bomb called “Canadian Bacon” and then rebounded by winning Oscars and smashing box office records. He built a better life for his family and put his daughter through private schools by creating and marketing a product a lot of people bought. He became a multimillionaire because of the power of the unrestrained liberties we know in America as Capitalism and Freedom of Speech. (more…)

I’m far from a perfect father. For example, just the other day, on my watch, my one-year old, Ben, who is now rumblin’, bumblin’ and stumblin’ all over the house, took a dive on the corner of our entertainment center and gave himself a nice shiner.  Within a few minutes, he’d forgotten about it and was wobbling around on two legs again, proud of his newly acquired mobility.  But I felt bad for not catching him. I suppose the President, who made it a point on Saturday to pontificate to us dads about what kind of fathers we should be just ahead of Father’s Day, has never missed either of his daughters just before they got an “ouchie.” If neither Sasha nor Malia have ever scraped a knee, had a black eye, or even fractured a bone, then I guess he can pretend to be the perfect daddy. But then, you could also argue that without said minor injuries, the First Kids probably haven’t lived much of a life.

President Obama’s righteousness about fatherhood comes from the recognition that his own dad was, indeed, a douchebag. He knocked up Obama’s mom and quickly fled the country, only meeting his son once, and bringing him a basketball. There are fathers like that out there, but they’re few and far between. And they deserve our scorn. And I understand the President’s desire to talk about his own experience as a fatherless child. I get it. It must have been terrible and I’d probably talk about it too if my dad Bruce Wilson hadn’t been the incredible dad he is to this day (see my movie “Michael Moore Hates America” for an interview with Pops). (more…)

No matter what I’m doing now or what I do in the future, I’ll probably always be known as the guy who made “Michael Moore Hates America.” I often wonder why I picked a fight with Moore. I mean really, I got to be a tiny little bit famous for a few weeks, stressed out for five years and more broke than when I started. Sometimes I wish I’d never dipped my foot into this addiction called showbiz and often wonder what life would’ve been like if I were just toiling away in the marketing department of some company again.

But then the multimillionaire and self-proclaimed champion of the little guy opens his foul, uneducated, lying mouth and I’m reminded why I made that movie and continue to write and talk about Moore. Someone somewhere has to tell the truth about this country and I guess it might as well be me. I guess fate has appointed me his much less wealthy, way less well-known, and much thinner (even though I’m fat) counterpart. I just read Moore’s latest diatribe and got Hulk-angry. HULK SMAAASHHH! (more…)

Ben Shapiro and Tim Slagle have engaged in a little back and forth in recent days about rap and whether or not it’s crap. I read the original piece. The response. The response to the response. The myriad of comments. I’m diving into the fray, dancing delightfully through the crossfire of warring factions of the same army. But as you may know, I’m not one to play peacemaker.

Ben Shapiro is a brilliant kid. I say kid, not in the pejorative, not to denigrate him for his age. But he’s 8 years younger than I and he’s achieved stuff that, when we parents look at our children for the first time, hope for them. Smart, good-looking, already a family man and a lawyer, a published author and commentator, Ben is staring down a world in the shape of an oyster. Good on him. (more…)

Michael Moore wrote a piece for the Huffington Post last week. I didn’t find out about it until today because I was doing more important things like volunteering and watching my 6 year-old daughter’s all-girl hockey team beat up on the boy teams here in Coon Rapids, Minnesota. While I was busy watching Kylie score 6 goals in 5 games, including the only 2 in a 2-0 victory, Michael Moore was once again telling us how we should be like Europe, and how most Americans agree with him and blah, blah, fuckity blah. He also mentioned my movie by name. It’s enough to make a guy go bugnutty.

I appreciate the plug Mike gave me, but I need to lay some things out. You see, since that movie came out, I’ve become one of the people that you would think would agree with Moore. I’m about to divulge deeply personal information, but I think it’s relevant to the conversation… and a friend recently reminded me that, as Lenny Bruce said, the purpose of art is to stand on stage naked.  In the last 4 years, I haven’t made a dime from my movie, though it’s grossed a LOT of dough. I’ve been divorced. I’ve been audited by the IRS. I’ve lost my home and have no health care insurance. Life has generally been in the crapper. You’d think that I’d be joining the vast majority of people Moore cites who want to stick it to the rich and who are lining up to get free shit from the government. There’s one problem: I’m an American. (more…)

Geert Wilders, the right-wing Netherlands politician (right-wing in Amsterdam means something entirely different than it does here…) has been denied entry to the United Kingdom because he made a little movie called “Fitna” that shows the passages terrorists use as the basis for their terror in juxtaposition with images of said terror. The British equivalent of Secretary of State has decided that Wilders is a threat to the public safety of the nation. WILDERS is a threat because his visit might piss off Muslims and THEY might blow shit up. Nothing makes Wilders’ point better than England’s fear of Islamic terrorism during his visit.

It’s shameful. Shameful.

In addition to being eighty-sixed from London today, Wilders, a member of parliament in the Netherlands, has been criminally charged and faces both expulsion from parliament and PRISON TIME for making this film. Apparently, in some places in Europe, it’s a crime to offend people. He’s formally charged with something called “inciting hatred,” whatever that is. Not that Wilders doesn’t go too far sometimes, calling for the banning of the Koran and imams, but people should have a right to believe in any crap they want, I suppose, and they certainly should be free to read whatever they want. (more…)

Here in the frigid, overtaxed state of Minnesota, we know one thing about Al Franken… he’s persistent. I’d even venture to say he won’t be waiting for The One to finish out his term and run for a second as President. Franken will go for the gold in 2012. Even if Obama manages to get the Democratic votes for the nomination the next go ‘round, Al’s going to take it anyway. And if you don’t believe me, just look at his history.

Al Franken persisted as a comedian for decades. Hell, they still refer to him as a “comedian” in the papers. He spent years writing, performing and radio-show hosting as a comedian. The guy managed to do this despite the handicap of a complete and total lack of comedic ability (and, for the record, ideology doesn’t trump comedy for me… I’m a huge Carlin fan and cite Kevin Smith as my reason for giving this business a go). Franken’s career has led me to imagine a skinny, 90lb kid with asthma who wants to be a linebacker for the Pittsburgh Steelers. He has no skill, no size, no talent. But he makes it  – and though he’s never made a tackle, he is widely credited as one of the NFL’s all-time greats. A hero!  But Franken is a hack. (more…)

Last week, I wrote a little missive about why conservatives should stop complaining and start doing. I’d been saying it for years, beginning in 2004 when my movie and I were prematurely and wrongly heralded as the start of the “conservative film movement.” I’d always taken umbrage at that proclamation, because I didn’t see what we were doing back then as a part of any “movement” and, frankly, didn’t (and still don’t) care if people saw it that way.

Also last week, Big Hollywood’s triumphant launch was covered well in the news, because Andrew Breitbart’s idea is newsworthy (and because he’s good at getting the word out). In one article, which appeared in the Daily Telegraph, the reporter subtly chastised the site, and used quotes from me that were entirely out of context. I’m not going to jump all over everyone who does this, because it’s part of making a public statement (I’ve been called every name in the book). But this one bugged me.

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When I was trying to make my first little documentary, subtly entitled “Michael Moore Hates America,” I begged for money. Nothing new there, as begging for money is as much a part of life for independent filmmakers as it is for the myriad windshield washers or single-rose vendors that relentlessly approach my gas-guzzling SUV whenever I pull onto an offramp in any major city. I was turned down… a lot.

One night, I sat in a room in New York where I’d been invited to do a dog and pony show for the vast right wing conspiracy, including four of the nation’s billionaires. I made my little speech and showed them a trailer which I’d ably culled together from the hours of footage I’d already shot (and which was unknowingly financed by Mastercard). I made a great pitch. More than a few of the people in the room approached me to tell me that they thought it was awesome. “This is really what we need. I hope you can find the money,” was the quote of the night. But, alas, conservatives have ventured as far as AM radio and the book store when it comes to imparting their ideas into pop culture. And it seems the movement fears trying new things about as much as it fears Obama’s tax policy.

Hollywood doesn’t like us to begin with – even those of us who are hardcore libertarians and don’t automatically identify with the GOP or social conservatism. They don’t like our pro-American, pro-liberty, self-interested way of life, and they certainly don’t think our ideas would work on film. There is a an old-hat idea that speaking truth to power (especially when the power is a rich old white man or evil corporation) is what makes for the most compelling films. It’s a tried and true formula. And despite its self-aggrandized reputation for creativity and artistic risk-taking, Hollywood thrives on formulas. Hell, they can tell you by noon on Friday what a movie will make over a weekend, because there are teams of people who spend their lives figuring out the formula. But I digress.
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