…there’s a real possibility that for the first time since the 73rd Oscars 10 years ago, there will be no black nominees in any of the acting categories at the February ceremony. In fact, there are virtually no minorities in any of the major categories among the early lists of awards hopefuls.

What the liberal media might call a “predominantly white” crowd…

I mean, we have the likes of Cher wondering why anyone who isn’t white, rich and Christian would want to be a Republican. Brilliant political mind John Cusack supports the idea of a “Satanic death cult center” outside of Fox News headquarters. Actor John Hamm agreed the Tea Party is a racist institution – on the show hosted by a guy who is upset that President Obama doesn’t act like a “real black president” with a “gun in his pants.” And white comedienne (?) Joy Behar says that only the majority (read: white people) can be racist. Well, I guess as a white chick, she should know. Plus, she studied sociology in college and everything!

Yes, these are the people who believe they set the social narrative in America. And yet…and yet…they don’t seem to live up to their own hype! I mean, here we have what might be the first Oscar night in 10 years with no ethnic minority actors/actresses nominated for an acting award. My goodness, what will George “Smug” Clooney have to say about it?

Actually, considering the high amount of tripe coming out of Hollywood lately, I should think that those excluded from the nominee list would be thrilled by their narrow escape.

Now there may be some of you out there who say that it’s the quality of the performance, not the color of the actor’s skin, that should count. In a rational world, this would be true. But leftists, many of them residents of LaLaLand, are constantly telling those of us who don’t agree with them politically that we are a bunch of bigoted, racist hacks who are destroying the social fabric of America. Just ask Megan Fox! Therefore, it’s quite satisfying to point out their particularly smarmy brand of hypocrisy whenever it pops up. 

John Cusack thinking: Don’t try this at home!

No matter where they live and work, leftists usually live by – and die by – the Balkanist sword. Rather than seeing us all as just plain old Americans, they like to sort us into different groups: black, white, brown, gay, straight, man, woman, handicapped, Christian, Jew, whatever. Divide and conquer is the game. Like the Greek goddess Eris, sow that golden apple of discord and resentment among different groups and then promise to cure all of their ills if they just vote for liberals and trust the powers that be in a centralist government to do right by them. After all, the people can’t be trusted to do right by themselves.

Unfortunately, when color and creed is all you think about, you often get caught in your own web of destruction. Take  Helen Thomas and Rick Sanchez as recent examples. These so-called journalists both made public comments about Jews that were definitely offensive: Thomas said Jews should “get the hell out of Palestine” and “go back home” to Europe – where they had nearly been exterminated during World War II by Hitler and his minions. Sanchez, who has been mocked frequently on Jon Stewart’s Daily Show, complained that the Comedy Central star  (a Jew) is a bigot and that those who run CNN are “a lot like Stewart, and a lot of people who run all the other networks are a lot like Stewart, and to imply that somehow they, the people in this country who are Jewish, are an oppressed minority? Yeah.”

Thomas, a White House press room regular since the Cretaceous period, resigned under the onslaught. Sanchez, a CNN anchor with pathetic ratings, was outright fired. That’s what you get for biting the proverbial hand.

Anti-Semitism is on the rise worldwide and Western media may be complicit in demonizing Israel. However, to come out and say such things outright is still considered taboo in the world of media. (Thank goodness for small favors.) Both Thomas and Sanchez rightly paid for their diarrhea of the mouth. “Journalists” claim to be unbiased (which is a load of baloney, IMHO). But as long as they’re making that bogus claim, they should at least attempt to live up to it.

Meanwhile, back in the real world, the Tea Party welcomes anyone who believes in smaller government and greater personal responsibility – no matter what color your skin may be.

But don’t tell Hollywood and the rest of the media. They’re still too busy promoting the myth of their own greatness and holier-than-thou stature to notice. Meanwhile, minorities in the entertainment world continue to bear the brunt of this self-serving lip service.

Who are the real bigots? You decide.

Instead, he’s simply trying to stop the “Jewish domination of the media,” so that the film industry can put Nazi leader Adolf Hitler “in context,” as an “easy scapegoat,” and “a product of a series of actions,” in his upcoming 10-hour Showtime docudrama, “The Secret History of America.”

This past weekend Stone told the Sunday Times in England: “We can’t judge people as only bad or good . . . Hitler was a Frankenstein, but there was also a Dr. Frankenstein. German industrialists, the Americans and the British. He had a lot of support.”

Under the false pretense of putting Hitler “in context,” what Stone is really saying is that even the good guys like America and Great Britain helped him, which means he couldn’t have been all that bad.

That’s pretty hard to believe since it was the United States and Great Britain that heroically charged the shores of Germany in 1945 and crushed the Third Reich into pieces, striking so much fear into Hitler’s heart that he abandoned his country, and in one of history’s greatest acts of cowardice, killed himself.

Stone is correct that Hitler did have a lot of support, but it was mainly from the German people during the reign of the Third Reich from 1933-1945.

Despite the pathetic excuses made by historical revisionists, millions of Germans supported their Nazi leaders and the sadistic crimes they committed upon innocent Jews and other poor souls who found themselves and their children working as slaves in concentration camps before they were tortured and killed.

Stone seems to think he can produce his docudrama under the auspices of shedding new light, but he can’t because it’s no secret that the Nazis used Jewish slave labor to work in factories owned by German companies that had American counterparts like Ford Motor Company.

Stone’s misperception of politics and history should come as no surprise, however. On June 28, Stone told ABC “Good Morning America” anchor George Stephanopoulos that he “absolutely” believes Hugo Chavez is a good person, and after he met with Iranian dictator Mahmoud Ahmadinejad he said, “Iran isn’t necessarily the bad guy.” Instead, he condemned U.S. policy toward Iran as “horrible.”

In essence, the effect of Stone’s work will be an attempt at vindicating Adolf Hitler, the single worst person in the history of the world. This is because despite the tragedies caused by Mao, Stalin and other dictators, there was never a historical account of any leader or their pathetically weak followers taking sadistic pleasure in the pain, humiliation and torture they inflicted upon their victims. The Nazis didn’t just kill people. They enjoyed it and thrived off the sadness and powerlessness they caused their victims.

By even attempting to rationalize Hitler’s acts as merely economical or strategic, Stone runs the risk of legitimizing genocide, slave labor and torture. One can’t help but wonder what the emotional driving force is for Stone to do such a thing. Is it really a noble attempt to explain history or just a streak of anti-Semitic vindictiveness designed to disempower Jews in America?

Perhaps this quote from his Times interview sheds some light:

“The Jewish domination of the media,” Stone professed, “there’s a major lobby in the United States. They are hard workers. They stay on top of every comment, the most powerful lobby in Washington. Israel has f***ed up United States foreign policy for years.”

Apparently, Oliver Stone has forgotten that it was Israel that remained America’s only loyal ally in the Middle East throughout the harsh decades of the cold war with the Soviet Union. He also forgets that many of the Jews that are in Washington today are elected officials to Congress that the American people democratically elected. Unlike Adolf Hitler, our Jewish congressional representatives never coerced anyone to vote for them.

Nazism is alive even today in both America and Germany. In fact, the Simon Wiesenthal Center still makes efforts to hunt down Nazi war criminals, but has a difficult time getting cooperation from the countries in which they are hiding. The operation’s chief Nazi hunter, Efraim Zuroff, wrote in his recent book, “Operation Last Chance,” that there has been a growing ambivalence about Holocaust crimes, a morally flawed position that those cowardly, sick acts happened a long time ago and should be forgotten, and that prosecution at this time serves no purpose.

Those countries are wrong. Prosecution of war criminals or of any criminal always serves a purpose – justice.

Oliver Stone’s new series will only further encourage the growing ambivalence many people already have about Holocaust crimes and empower Fourth Reich Nazis who are trying to reignite the anti-Semitism that once flourished throughout Europe.

Anytime anyone makes excuses for the Nazis, they are empowering evil. Oliver Stone’s self-declared attempt at putting Hitler “in context” is a veiled anti-Semitic strike against Holocaust survivors and Jews just as his praise for America’s enemies like Hugo Chavez and Mahmoud Ahmadinejad are veiled strikes against the United States.

Oliver Stone is dead wrong. We can judge people as either all bad or good, and Adolf Hitler was bad – as is Oliver Stone and anyone else who distorts the truth to vindicate evil.

—–

Goldberg’s  Johnson’s latest proclamation that Jewish people wish she kept to herself surrounds Mel Gibson and the taped phone calls Mel made to his girlfriend, where he spewed racial epithets such as “if you get raped by a pack of n***rs it will be your fault.” On this series of recordings, Gibson could also be heard calling Hispanics “wetbacks” and threatening violence against his girlfriend.  Keep in mind that this incident comes during a period where Gibson was making a comeback after being shunned for his rabid anti-Semitism.  

Whoopi’s reaction [see the video above] to Gibson’s latest is she does not condone what he did but she knows Mel, he has been over her house and she does not think Mel Gibson is a racist or an anti-Semite.

 Not a racist?  What the heck is she talking about?  The man used the “N” word more times in one phone call than most people use in their entire lives. What does he have to do for her to call him a racist, break into Wal-Mart in the middle of the night to steal all the white sheets and lighter fluid?

 As far as the anti-Semitism, remember Ms. Johnson you are not really Jewish, drunk or not, Mel’s statement “F**king Jews…the Jews are responsible for all the wars in the world” was not a declaration of admiration.

If the Mel’s not a racist comment was the first crazy thing Whoopi ever said it could be forgiven, but her track record of brain burps is miles long.  For example when John McCain was a guest during the 2008 campaign she asked the Senator if strict constitutionalist judges appointed during a McCain administration would bring back Slavery.  Two months later, after being criticized for not reading the constitution, Whoopi said she READ the constitution and she was still worried about a return to slavery. Obviously she skipped the part of the 13th Amendment. Maybe she has triskaidekaphobia (fear of the number 13). How else could she miss that, it was in all the papers-150 YEARS AGO!

Goldberg Johnson also believes that African-Americans’ right to vote has to be renewed every few years:

“Do you know that we are the only people in the United States who have to have their voting rights okayed every couple of years? Did you know that they have to vote on the Voting Rights Bill for black folks? Can we just, can one of you candidates- can we just take care of that so I don’t have to worry every year, my God am I not?”

I thought she said she read the constitution. The 15th amendment to the Constitution prohibits racial discrimination in voting. “The right of citizens of the United States to vote shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any State on account of race, color, or previous condition of servitude.” Constitutional amendments do not expire, nor do they have to be renewed, and there is no fear of the number 15.

Goldberg/Johnson makes really asinine statements and because of her stage name, they are blaming her comments on the Jewish people.

 Come on Whoopi, why pick on the poor Jews? Try one of these names on for size:

• Whoopi Rochmanyanoff
• Whoopi Chin
• Whoopi Singh
• Whoopi McSchtuppie
• Whoopi Obama?

Hey I got an Idea!  Why not go for the “peace angle” Why don’t you change your name to Whoopi Ahmadinejad? It fits nicely; Ahmadinejad knows nothing about the US constitution either. And it would be helping the President reach out to the Iranian tyrant. What do you say?  Try it! Or try anything else.

 Please Whoopi, we know the Jews are supposed to be the “chosen people,” but how about choosing someone else for a change.  We already have our share of famous embarrassments. Do you know how hard it is every Father’s Day to see Woody Allen walk around with his wife/daughter? We have to take the blame for people like Courtney Love, Rosanne Barr, Al Franken and half of Geraldo Rivera. For heaven’s sake do you know how hard it is to figure out which part of Geraldo is the front side and which is the backside?  Come on Ms Johnson, get rid of the Goldberg!! Haven’t the Jews suffered enough?

Look fast right around the one-minute mark:

“Inspired By Historical Events”

Cut to:  A little boy in a t-shirt labelled “Israel” beating up a helpless little boy in a t-shirt labelled “Gaza Strip” as a slow, fat, clueless little boy in a t-shirt labelled “America” refuses to help.

I know, I know… It’s just a joke. Jokes are harmless, right? Below the fold I have some jokes about Muslims, gays and blacks…

Oh, wait… Maybe not. I forgot that smearing Jews, Israel and America is okay but … for some reason … you can’t– Hey, I’m not the bigot who creates these double standards. That would be HBO and Adam McKay – the same Adam McKay outraged over the new SCOTUS ruling that gives corporations a place in the national political debate. 

But, uhm, isn’t HBO a … corporation?

Exit question: Funny or Die?

Ang Lee’s “Taking Woodstock,” a halfway competent but ultimately erratic, unfocused story of how “three days of peace and music” came to the small town of White Lake, New York and changed for the better the lives of those who embraced “the spirit,” not only celebrates the drug abuse and loveless sex that defined the “Woodstock Generation,” but goes beyond caricatures and into outright anti-Semitism to condemn those who didn’t.

Elliot Tiber (Demetri Martin), a young Jewish man in his early twenties, once again abandons his work as a struggling Greenwich Village artist to help his elderly parents (two Jewish stereotypes played by Henry Goodman and Imelda Staunton) through another summer season in the Catskills. Their “resort,” a filthy, dilapidated motel, is about to be foreclosed on and probably should be, but Elliott convinces an exasperated banker to give him one more season. But foreclosure is inevitable and Elliot knows it, and while his friends go to San Francisco with flowers in their hair, his dreams take a back seat to this annual guilt trip sponsored by his overbearing mother.

There are probably enough seasonal tourists to make for a nice profitable business. The problem is mom and dad. Her iron-willed hostility and suspicion towards everyone, her inexplicable cheapness – refusing to even change sheets between guests – chases all kinds of business away. And Dad? Well, he’s too beaten down by her and fatalistic to care.

As a matter of procedure and as President of the local Chamber of Commerce (a tired group of seven or so small business owners who meet in a dark barn), Elliot calls for votes issuing local permits, including one for his own annual music festival — maybe a nice string quartet this year. When the nearby town of Wallkill cancels a major music festival, Elliot begins to understand the power of a one-dollar permit and makes a phone call.

Led by long-haired and oh-so mellow Mike Lang (Jonathan Groff), the Woodstock organizers (hippies backed by a battalion of briefcase-toting lawyers) descend on White Lake in helicopters and limousines with military precision. Lang comes off as a shrewd hustler and mercenary businessman willing to put on a “groovy” front if it means suckering the dumb hippies into believing they’re not making The Man rich, but in the film’s best scenes, he meets his match with Max Yasgur (Eugene Levy), a kind but cunning dairy farmer with the land the festival needs.

The story hits a stride as the organizers move in, hand out bags of cash and with real savvy, manipulate, charm and, when necessary, bribe whoever stands in the way of their harnessing the resources necessary to handle the coming human wave holding those hundred-thousand (and counting) tickets already sold. Through the eyes of Elliott, watching the machinations of the impossible come together is infectious but Ang Lee isn’t interested in having us merely observe. Lines are about to be drawn.

Before Woodstock arrived, living in Elliot’s barn was a starving theatre troupe into the avante garde and the removing of their clothes (translation: untalented bums who spend their food money on drugs and now run the NEA). In a truly ugly scene they put on a performance for the locals, including small children, that ends with them ripping off their clothes and screaming “Racist warmongers!” “Republican c-ksuckers!”

This is not only a turning point for the townspeople but for we the audience. Unforgivable behavior is presented as humorous, and this is just the beginning.

With their town swamped by dirty, filthy hippies, their roads blocks and their lives completely disrupted, Director Lee refuses to give even a hint of humanity to those who oppose Woodstock. They, and therefore we, are instead portrayed as intolerant bigots, the kind who defile a Jewish-owned motel with swastikas and “Die, Faggots Jews.”

In other words, you’re either with Woodstock or you’re against it. And through Elliot we’re shown why we should be with it. In a sloppily structured subplot, Elliot finds his inner homosexual and beds down with a burly construction worker and later will enjoy an acid-infused, bi-sexual ménage a trois in the back of a van that’s so enlightening and liberating, man, he finally works up the nerve to find his true narcissism, tell his parents to back off and go pursue his own dreams.

The military takes its usual beating. Emile Hirsch plays Billy, a vet just back from the ‘Nam, man, and riddled with PTSD. The “good” Marine is played by Liev Schreiber … in a long blond wig, pumps and a dress. Of course, Schreiber’s character is the Obi Wan Kenobi of the story, the wise and brave one, the only one who’s got it all together because he’s true to who he really is.  

 
Fine, whatever, right? A movie about Woodstock from this Hollywood is bound to do a clunky, overbearing job attempting to mythologize an event so morally appalling God turned on the sprinklers to get the shit off His lawn. But the portrayal of Elliot’s mother is something else … by far the ugliest Jewish stereotype you’ve seen in a long time.

**Spoiler**

“Money-grubbing Jew.” That’s not figurative in “Taking Woodstock,” it’s literal. This horribly cheap woman who milks every penny from her customers, overcharges at every opportunity and uses the Holocaust to guilt the world, literally hoards money below the floor boards at the expense of the well-being of her own family. And when we leave her, she’s literally lying in bundles of bills, grasping them, claiming them for her own. The image is revolting, the heavy-handed symbolism amateurish, and the whole film just another excessive exercise in self-involved, baby boomer masturbation.

July 31st, 2006 – Hollywood, California:

At a time of escalating tensions in the world, the entertainment industry cannot idly stand by and allow Mel Gibson to get away with such tragically inflammatory statements. People in the entertainment community, whether Jew or gentile, need to demonstrate that they understand how much is at stake in this by professionally shunning Mel Gibson and refusing to work with him, even if it means a sacrifice to their bottom line. There are times in history when standing up against bigotry and racism is more important than money.

That is a portion of a Huffington Post entry authored by a prominent Hollywood talent agent. It was written exactly two years ago this week after the arrest of actor Mel Gibson. During the stop, an angry and intoxicated Gibson made physical threats and was reported to say, “The Jews are responsible for all the wars in the world,” and asked the arresting officer, “Are you a Jew?”

The national news erupted. Hollywood did, in fact, quickly turn their backs on their colleague. Gibson himself began a weeks-long, public mea-culpa. He issued a statement describing his words as “despicable.” His publicist said he was checking into a multi-step program to get his mind right and his alcoholism under control. Gibson’s career as a leading star has stalled since the incident, and in many corners of Hollywood he is still persona non grata. 

(ATTENTION READERS: BLATANT SARCASM AHEAD)

Now, for a moment, let’s try to understand where Mel Gibson was coming from that night. He’s angry about being pulled over. He reportedly had a troubled history with his father, Hudson Gibson who has been quoted to say the Holocaust was “mostly fiction.” Gibson’s most famous, and intense motion picture work with “The Passion” must certainly haunt the corners of his mind. These extenuating circumstances, coupled with the fame and recognizable face of Mel Gibson leads any honest thinker to conclude Gibson is a victim here.

Certainly the arresting officer detected alcohol and yes, Gibson was speeding. But the words Gibson used and the threatening language he directed at the officer should be understood and forgiven, shouldn’t it?  Then President Bush probably should have addressed Gibson’s comments and his arrest in a national press conference. Bush should have called Gibson a friend of his in Christian brotherhood.

Perhaps Bush could have said, “Now, I don’t know, not having been there and not seeing all the facts, what role religion played in that. But I think it’s fair to say, number one, any of us would be pretty angry; number two, that the police acted stupidly and, number three, what I think we know separate and apart from this incident is that there’s a long history in this country of Christians being underrepresented in Hollywood and law offices disproportionately. That’s just a fact.” 

Certainly to some, that kind of language from President Bush might have sounded judgmental of the arresting officer and perhaps mildly anti-Semitic itself. Nevertheless, such leadership from the President would have opened up a needed national debate on anti-Semitism in our country. It would have been a “teachable moment” for all persons of faith. Perhaps the officer, President Bush and Mel Gibson could have all met at the White House for a non-alcoholic beer. (Bush doesn’t drink, and Mel Gibson should probably avoid it.) But alas, President Bush failed to lead.

Thankfully, we now have an enlightened president in Barack Obama who’s not afraid to wade into local law enforcement issues. Unafraid to tackle cases of perceived bigotry by personal friends on a national stage, President Obama might ruffle some feathers. He may mischaracterize, impugn, and malign individual police officers without a shred of evidence – but our nation is better off for it. Our Teacher-In-Chief is the perfect blend of his old preacher Jeremiah “we had 9/11 coming” Wright and Dr. Phil. He can stoke the fires of racism without batting an eye while coolly extinguishing the discourse over a beer. 

(ATTENTION READER: THIS CONCLUDES BLATANT SARCASM)

It’s easy to forget that this episode involving President Obama, his friend “Skip” the Harvard professor, and the Cambridge cop all sprang from a prime-time press conference. The press conference was supposed to address Obama’s wildly unpopular plan to overhaul our nation’s health care system. The event did nothing to persuade the country to his side in the debate. In fact, he made it worse by portraying doctors and insurance companies as nothing more than profit mongers. So in the closing moments of the prime time event, in what can only be described as a moment of pure Hollywood distraction – the President of the United States waded in to an obscure municipal police case and turned it into a fictional national debate. 

It may interest you to know the name of the aforementioned talent agent who called for a Hollywood boycott of Mel Gibson two years ago. It’s Ari Emanuel – brother of White House Chief of Staff Rahm Emanuel. Apparently the way blatant bigotry is dealt with in the Emanuel family varies case by case. Ari calls for a public rebuke of bigotry while Rahm and his boss call for ”understanding” and a “cool headed” embrace. 

No doubt, the brothers Emanuel know the art of show business. Rahm once famously said, “Never let a serious crisis go to waste.” And when your “crisis” is in crisis? Create another crisis and the crisis your old crisis faces is forgotten. Now that’s pure showbiz!

In 1923, Colleen Moore’s starring vehicle, Flaming Youth was an international box office hit that ushered in the era of the Flapper. The Jazz crazy kids wore their galoshes unbuckled causing the rubber tongue to flap. Thus: Flappers.

 
Colleen Moore, studio portrait in the Stars and Stripes.

I’m waiting for that particular fashion statement to reappear.

Colleen Moore, born Kathleen Morrison, (1900-1988) and her husband John McCormick embarked on a grand tour of Europe to promote Flaming Youth, Colleen’s career, and enjoy a belated honeymoon.

Colleen’s look, specifically her Bobbed haircut, was a global fashion rage. Contrary to popular opinion it was Moore who pioneered the severe cut—not Louise Brooks. It is sad and certainly a skewed vision of film history that the current Louise Brooks cult has spread like a virus, whereas Moore, a far more important figure in motion pictures, is virtually forgotten.  George Cukor, a director who knew something about Hollywood stardom, was utterly baffled by the post-modern Brooks fever. When queried about the star of Pandora’s Box, Cukor forcefully exclaimed: “Louise Brooks? She was nothing!”

Anyhoo.

From where did the idea for this cubist haircut originate, so markedly different than the opulent Victorian tresses in favor at the time? Moore explains that her mother copied the look from a favorite childhood Japanese doll.

The new hairstyle sent a fascinating and complex message: this young lady is independent, plucky, fiery yet down-to-earth, tom-boyish but completely feminine; she’s the decent and adorable girl next door who is a boy’s best friend and then KABOOM! the love of his life.

Never a great beauty or a smoldering presence, Moore presented a new female paradigm: cute, feisty and refreshingly devoid of a self conscious sexuality. The surprising Bob helped cement Moore’s image as the modern American woman, and it changed the trajectory of the young actress’ career from feature player to star. At the height of her stardom Moore earned $12,500.00 a week.

The haircut also gave birth to a new product that is still with us: The Bobby Pin.

In Dublin, a celebrity starved crowd of 10,000 frantic fans broke through a police cordon and grabbed at Colleen who was wearing a stunning cape covered with intricately stitched tiny feathered plumes. Finally, McCormick lifted Colleen on his shoulders and carried her to the car where she arrived “looking like a plucked chicken.”

In Switzerland the mayor of Zurich arranged a dinner party in Colleen’s honor. An orchestra was present to play the the American national anthem.

Colleen describes the scene in her superb memoir Silent Star:

We’d no sooner sat down than the mayor, with a small bow to me, signaled the orchestra, who started playing “My Country,’Tis of Thee.” We all got up and stood very silent. When we sat down again, I said to the mayor, “That was the English national anthem, ‘G-d Save the King.’”

I should have kept my mouth shut. The mayor sent for the orchestra leader, spoke a few words to him in German, and no sooner had we started the soup course than the orchestra struck up again, this time with John Philip Sousa’s “Stars and Stripes Forever.” The Mayor stood up, beckoning to all of us, saying excitedly, “Stehen sie auf, bitte—everybody please stand up.”

We all stood, the orchestra finished, we sat down, and the American consul and I burst out laughing. When the mayor asked what we were laughing about, like an idiot I said, “That wasn’t our national anthem. That’s a march.”

The mayor, red in face, sent for the orchestra leader, spluttering German at him. The leader turned to me and asked the name of our national anthem. I said, “The Star-Spangled Banner.”

He returned to the bandstand, the mayor watching him with an eagle eye. A few moments later the orchestra struck up “Yes, We Have No Bananas,” the mayor rose, saying, “Stehen sie auf, bitte,” and a tableful of by-now bewildered guests stood at attention once again. When we sat down, I smiled at the mayor and said, “That was lovely.”

In 1930, Soviet director Sergei Eisentstein arrived in Hollywood to set up several projects. The talented propagandist met everybody in the business, partied like one of the Communist hacks in Ninotchka, but, naturally, got stuck in development hell, and returned to mother Russia without a deal. Studio heads were baffled by his adaptation of Dreiser’s An American Tragedy. Eisenstein said a great deal about Hollywood and the decadent capitalists he encountered. He judged Marlene Dietrich dull, Greta Garbo stupid. But Collen Moore, rhapsodized Eisenstein, was the only intelligent woman he met in Hollywood.

Colleen Moore, Desert Flower, 1925

Colleen’s first husband, studio executive John McCormick, was, in many ways, responsible for steering the meteoric rise of her flapper film career. Unfortunately, he was also an alcoholic and frequently abusive.

Director Mervyn LeRoy in his fascinating autobiography Take One, describes a terrifying night when McCormick, on a bender, tried to hurl Moore out of a N.Y. hotel window. LeRoy—from an assimilated Jewish San Francisco family whose last name was probably Levine—saved Moore’s life by smashing McCormick over the head with a chair. The gallant and properly violent LeRoy—at the time a top “comedy constructor” for Moore—remained as her protector the entire night, the two of them aimlessly walking the streets of New York.

In Hollywood past and present, major movie stars have major tzuris.

In fact, Moore and McCormick’s troubled relationship inspired George Cukor’s top-notch insider Hollywood drama What Price Hollywood in 1932 as well as the three versions of A Star Is Born.

Colleen Moore, Her Wild Oat 1927.

Tragically, Flaming Youth, is presumed to be a lost film. Perhaps, somewhere in an archive in Eastern Europe, lies a decaying copy of this legendary motion picture. I wouldn’t be at all surprised.

And as an example of how a lost film suddenly shows up—in this case Czechoslovakia—a Colleen Moore movie, Her Wild Oat, long considered lost, has been rediscovered and expertly restored. This article is an interview with archivist and historian Joseph Yranski who met Colleen Moore in the early 1970s, and remained friends with her until her death in 1988. Yranski was indirectly responsible for the rediscovery of Her Wild Oat.

Colleen Moore and the six-year-old Mickey Rooney in Orchards and Ermine, 1927

On DVD you can see Colleen Moore in Orchids and Ermine, 1927. Colleen plays a shop girl, a flapper, who’s looking for a sugar daddy. But she’s got to remain an innocent at heart, meaning she has to fall in love for the sake of love—not money. There’s romance, mistaken identity, and of course true love triumphs in the end. It’s a screwball comedy before screwball comedies were invented in the 30’s. Moore is magnetic as a gold digger who’s not as avaricious as she should be. A classic.

Colleen Moore in the dog house, in Ella Cinders, 1926.

Ella Cinders was probably Colleen Moore’s best role. In this spin on the Cinderella story, and much like Mabel Normand’s The Extra Girl, 1923, Moore plays a young girl in a dead end life who dreams of stardom, wins a beauty contest and goes to Hollywood. Once there, our heroine discovers that the contest was a scam. But with determination and talent Ella makes it in the movies and, natch, finds true love. This film is absolutely charming and Moore is delightful. Lombard before Lombard, Lucy before Lucy. You can get a DVD of the film here.

The Scarlet Letter, 1934, starring Colleen Moore and Alan Hale, 1934. This is a sound film, late in Colleen’s career. Moore was primarily a comedian but here she was trying to broaden her horizons as an actress. I haven’t yet seen this film so I’m clueless. But anything with Colleen Moore is interesting.

Broken Hearts of Broadway, 1923, was produced just before Moore broke through as a major star. Colleen plays the role of Mary, an aspiring actress who arrives in New York, all young and wholesome. Will she betray her friends for fame and fortune? This is a lovely show-biz morality tale, and Moore, as always, is genuine, vivacious, and utterly magnetic.

Reel Baseball/The Busher is a collection of baseball-themed silent movies. Colleen Moore co-stars with Charles Ray in The Busher, 1920, about a small town pitcher who is brought up to the big leagues but can’t quite make the grade. Colleen plays Mazie, his local sweetheart. Charles Ray was briefly a star of the silent era who specialized in playing rural heroes. On screen Ray was a one dimensional performer who relied on an aw’, shucks grin and a standard check list of hick mannerisms which appealed to audiences—for a short window of time.

Off-screen Ray was hugely tempramental, and according to Adolpf Zukor’s memoir had an inflated sense of his own importance. Ray spent his fortune lavishly and went bankrupt when he produced and financed his own pictures. Eventually, Ray devolved into alcoholism and uncredited walk-ons.  In 1935, Ray published a collection of short stories titled Hollywood Shorts, Compiled From Incidents in the Everyday Life of Men and Women Who Entertain in Pictures. Anthony Slide, in his seminal volume Silent Players, reports that, “…an undercurrent of anti-Semitism is evident in a number of stories, suggesting that Ray blamed his downfall on Jewish studio bosses.” Impoverished, Ray died from an infected tooth in 1943 at the age of 52.

I saw The Busher on TCM—I have a TCM addiction and I am powerless to control it—about a year ago. Moore, was not yet a star, just another feature player trying to claw her way from the middle ranks. But as soon as she appears on-screen—behold!—a refreshing, exuberant presence. The petite and vivacious Moore just blows the eager-to-please Charles Ray off screen.

Colleen Moore as Mazie on Charles Ray's lap in The Busher.

Fortunately for Colleen, the black and white film stock of the time never registered that one eye was brown, the other blue. She would have looked cross-eyed.

John Gilbert, who rose to be the first million dollar contract matinee idol at MGM, has a supporting role in The Busher as the spoiled rich kid who’s vying for Colleen’s affections over Charles Ray’s salt of the earth hero. Tragically, Gilbert, talented but immensely self-destructive, had a tortuous love affair with the great narcissist Greta Garbo—she left him stranded at the altar—and then, with the coming of sound his career crashed and burned in a terrific orgy of booze and babes.

After her retirement from motion pictures in 1935, Colleen Moore dedicated herself to an ongoing project: building the world’s most dazzling and elaborate doll house, actually a fairy castle. She toured with the fairy tale house to raise money for children’s charities.

The house is an engineering marvel. It has its own miniature sophisticated lights and wiring, a self-contained plumbing system, and a Lilliputian library with books signed by some of the greatest authors of our time. Every single detail of the castle is simply breath taking.

The fairy castle is on permanent exhibition in Chicago’s Museum of Science of Industry. Here’s the homepage.

Moore also wrote a best-selling volume: How Women Can make Money in the Stock Market.

Colleen Moore was Mervyn Leroy’s champion in Hollywood. She also mentored the luminous teen-age Loretta Young, and wisely cast an inexperienced but jaw-droppingly handsome Gary Cooper in his first starring role opposite Moore in Lilac Time, 1928. Moore believed that LeRoy, an incredibly bright, energetic, and creative young man, would develop into a fine director. She was right. LeRoy was known—before Orson Welles—as “The Boy Genius.” So let’s close with LeRoy’s warm words about this important actress and Hollywood icon:

Colleen Moore was a remarkable girl who grew into a remarkable woman… and became, next to Mary Pickford, the biggest silent film star of them all.

Later, she would retire from the screen at the height of her fame, marry well, and spend the rest of her life doing important civic works in Chicago, writing books, raising her stepchildren, and doting on her grandchildren. She was never anything but a lady, throughout her career and her postcareer life.

Her fame, however, never went to her head in any way. Perhaps because of her affluent background, she was never spoiled by her wealth., never seduced by her notoriety, never changed by her success. She was always sweet—in the best sense of the word—and kind and pleasant to everyone she met. I doubt that there was a man who worked on her pictures who was not platonically in love with her.

Links:

The Colleen Moore Project

Colleen Moore: Century Baby

Another Colleen Moore Site

Copyright © Robert J. Avrech

Based on the children’s novel of the same name by John Boyne, it tells the story of eight-year-old Bruno, whose father is a high-ranking Nazi. Dad is transferred from his post in Berlin to head a work (read: final solution) camp, and the family is uprooted to the countryside. Bored out of his skull after a few weeks of little to do and no one to play with but his older sister, Bruno defies his mother’s orders to stay in the front yard and sneaks out back to explore. He comes upon the camp, which he thinks is a farm (Bruno is sheltered from the realities of his father’s work) and meets Shmuel, a boy his age on the other side of the fence, wearing what Bruno thinks are “striped pajamas.” Despite being separated by electrified barbed wire, the two boys strike up a friendship that holds fast despite the obvious adversity and future problems that arise.

I hesitate to tell too much for those who have not seen the film or read the book, but suffice it to say it is very moving and a poignant reminder that children do not automatically inherit the prejudices of their parents – those prejudices must be taught. All I’ll say here is that if you do watch it, have a box of tissues handy.

Amazingly, Harvey Weinstein of Miramax Films felt compelled to defend the “glut” of Holocaust movies that were released at the end of 2008. Critics complained that the topic was too “gloomy” for the festive season. (What season is this, I wonder? It couldn’t be the Christmas season, because we don’t talk about that. Must be the Holiday season I hear so much about.) Why on earth should he have to defend these films? No one feels the need to defend the glut of slasher and teen smut films on the market, which have little or no cultural value.

In light of the increase of anti-Semitism around the world, combined with a lack of knowledge about what really happened during World War II, I think it’s important that films like this are made – yes, even films targeted at children. Our president has suggested that kindergartners be taught about sex in an “age appropriate” manner. If children that young are old enough to learn about sex, surely those who are a little older can learn about a human catastrophe that, heaven forbid, could happen again if Mahmoud Ahmadinejad and his ilk have their way?

A recent survey in Britain of more than 1,000 schoolchildren aged 11-16 about the death camp Auschwitz revealed that: a quarter still did not know its purpose.

Of those, about 10% were not sure what it was, 8% thought it was a country bordering Germany, 2% thought it was a beer, the same proportion said it was a religious festival and a further 1% said it was a type of bread.

Perhaps this isn’t surprising, considering some schools in that nation are dropping Holocaust studies because they’re afraid of “offending” Muslim students. Yes, the same nation that wouldn’t allow Geert Wilders in because his film Fitna, according to Foreign Secretary David Miliband, contains ”extreme anti-Muslim hate and we have very clear laws in this country.”

Meanwhile, anti-Semitism and attacks on Jews in the UK are on the rise. Wonder what Miliband thinks about that?

Another question I have is why The Boy in the Striped Pajamas didn’t get any attention here during the Golden Globe and Academy Awards blitz? Great acting, fabulous costumes, great screenplay. I don’t claim to know anything about the nomination process, but I’m guessing that a film about the horrors of Jewish genocide might make too many people uncomfortable.

No, better to keep releasing films that make our troops look bad - although that might stop now that Obama the Magnificent has “inherited” Iraq and Afghanistan. Big Hollywood’s John Scott Lewinski notes that “since a Democrat is president and it’s safe for Hollywood to support America’s wars again, there’s reason to hope for such a comeback” of heroes in American films.

In the meantime, I suggest you watch The Boy in the Striped Pajamas, and if you have children, have them watch it with you.  It contains a lesson that none of us can afford to forget.

I hate to be a pessimist, but I see no reason not to be. While the folks in Gaza didn’t have two great choices during their last election, much like the electorate here in the U.S., they opted for the greater of two evils, much like the electorate here in the U.S.. They voted for Hamas, a terrorist group sworn to wipe Israel off the map — the actual map, that is, not merely the fantasy maps they use in their schoolbooks.

It confounds me when people in America and non-Muslims in Europe attempt to find a moral equivalency between Israel and her enemies. For one thing, they invariably find Israel culpable. Israel may not always be right, but that’s far better than always being wrong. I mean, how does anyone living in a civilized nation dare argue on behalf of people who treat their women as chattel and who treat Christians and Jews even worse?

The same bigots who condemn Israel for killing Arab children when they respond to countless missile attacks never seem to condemn the Arabs for either firing those missiles or for using women and children as shields when Israel finally retaliates.

Israel has had nuclear weapons for a good number of years, but has never once used them. Is there anyone anywhere who honestly believes that if Israel’s enemies had nuclear capability, Tel Aviv and Jerusalem would be anything but moonscapes by this time?

Those who claim to find a moral equivalency between the two sides in the Middle East are those who, themselves, have no sense of morality. Decades ago, Abba Eban observed that Arabs never miss an opportunity to miss an opportunity. He was of course referring to their failure to seek a peaceful resolution. But it isn’t peace the Palestinians want. Neither is it statehood. Even Clinton, who had Yasser Arafat sleeping in Lincoln’s bedroom far more often than Lincoln ever had, got the Israelis to offer up 97% of what Arafat was demanding. The way Arafat stormed off, you would have thought the Israelis had asked to have sex on a first date.

People who believe that Israel was wrested from the Arabs by the U.N. in 1948 are simply ignorant of the facts. Zionists had been buying up desert property at wildly inflated prices for several decades by then. All that happened in 1948 was that the U.N. recognized Israel as a sovereign state. Although the Arabs were invited to remain where they were, they were told by Egypt, Lebanon, Transjordan, Syria and Iraq, to leave so that the invading forces wouldn’t have to worry about collateral damage when they eradicated the Jews. The departing Arabs were assured that they’d soon be free to return and share in the spoils. At the time of the invasion, Azzam Pasha, Secretary General of the Arab League, left no room for doubt when he declared: “This will be a war of extermination and a momentous massacre which will be spoken of like the Mongolian massacres and the Crusades.” That was 61 years ago and the grandkids and great-grandkids of those who fled and wound up in Gaza are still waiting for that Great Come and Get It Day.

Recently, Pat Buchanan, sounding, as usual, an awful lot like Jimmy Carter, wrote a piece advising Israel to surrender still more land for peace. Well, why not? It’s always worked so well in the past. Whenever I read Buchanan on the Middle East conflict, I find myself wondering if his solution to the problem of illegal immigration in America would be to hand Texas, Arizona and California, over to Mexico.

Perhaps next time, just as a change of pace, Mr. Buchanan might consider giving the Arabs the benefit of his wisdom. Perhaps something along the lines of “In case you haven’t noticed, it’s 2009, not 1009. Stop behaving like bloody savages!”