Matt Damon and Director Paul Greengrass on the set of the 2010 flop “Green Zone”

There is little doubt that the arts attract people with more liberal perspectives.  That their values should appear in content is therefore not surprising.  These values, including political ideology, may take many forms.  In some cases, they are simply a one-off joke about Sarah Palin.  In other cases, there are full-blown television episodes and movies that directly espouse values, morals, or political ideology often associated with the left-wing of our political spectrum.  I’ve been in countless story sessions for both TV and film.  Some writer-producers are eager to inject their ideology into the content.  Some are not.  But the ones that do are always Liberal.  Sometimes that’s just fine. You can’t make Bulworth or Bob Roberts, under-appreciated and entertaining films, without Warren and Tim and their Liberal ideals.

I know what I’m getting when I go to see those films.  Generally speaking, as long as the content is entertaining, I don’t care.   Unless I’m a shareholder of the company producing that content.

Which brings me to today’s question: does Hollywood’s ideology cost shareholders revenue?

First, let it be known that there is absolutely no way to prove this assertion.  We cannot conduct a properly controlled scientific study to provide a definitive conclusion.  We can only look at circumstantial evidence and open a discussion.  If one looks at comments on the articles here at Big Hollywood, there seems to be support for this theory.  Many commenters feel that Hollywood is morally bankrupt, its denizens hypocritical, and that the product quality just does not make it worth spending time or money to consume content.   Carl Koslowski’s article suggests that Hollywood is not seeing the world through the average American’s eyes, so how could they produce entertainment that does?  He points out that even the box office results of Avatar suggest that only 20% of Americans have seen the movie – the most popular movie in a decade.

Meanwhile, The Blind Side did extremely well in “fly-into country”, and a low-budget 2008 Christian film called Fireproof made 120 times its investment.  Why?  Grassroots support from the Christian community, because the film played directly to them.  People are more apt to pay to see content that they identify with. The average American doesn’t make a ton of money like Hollywood employees do.  One in ten are out of work.  They’d rather spend time with their families then pay money to see something that means nothing to them.  It’s no wonder that all the anti-Iraq War films have flopped.  It’s not just that most Americans are sick of hearing about the war, but most paying Americans likely believed that a pro-American, pro-soldier, anti-terrorist perspective isn’t what these films were going to offer.

A few years ago, Hollywood started paying lip-service to producing “faith-based” content.   I have not seen much in the way of that kind of content.  I’m not even talking about overtly political or even controversial content.  I’m talking about content that pulls back on sex, gratuitous violence, profanity, and content that portrays the “usual suspects” as the villains (CIA, NSA, cops, priests, private contractors, corporations, mercenary armies, our present or future Armed Forces).   All of those choices are lazy, anyway..

So what’s going on?  Don’t tell me that Rupert Murdoch is a closet Liberal.  Don’t tell me that the other studio heads, or senior management at the corporations that own them, have secret meetings to advance a Socialist agenda.  What is the deal with the apparent contradiction that exists between corporatist senior management allowing Liberal talent free reign, when it seems likely that this is not in the best interest of shareholders, and does not maximize revenue?

For that answer, you have to go back to my earlier column.  Hollywood is run on fear.  I believe that the moguls frankly do not care what ideology their content espouses, as long as the portfolio in the aggregate makes money. And it does make money.  A lot of money.  And while theatrical admissions are declining, ticket prices are increasing, and they are trying to throw 3D and IMAX at audiences to keep them engaged.  If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.  Why take a hard left turn into producing content more directed at mainstream America and take on any perceived, associated risk?

That, however, is exactly what they should be doing.   Because they are overestimating that risk.  While we cannot definitively prove that current content is leaving money on the table via alienation of audiences, it is unquestionably worth the risk to produce content that is more inclusive.   There is a quiet, but budding, movement in this arena.  All the tools are available.  The distribution pipelines exist.  The audiences exist.  A profit model exists.  Some of my colleagues have begun to move in this independent direction – not simply out of a desire to make truly “values-based” content, but also to take advantage of the disruption in content production that the internet has created.

Hollywood is approaching an inflection point.  Sure, it will continue to milk the current cow until it tips over and dies. But the trends are becoming clearer – the traditional model is slowly failing.  Eventually, a new trend will develop.  We are starting to see it — shows like Justified, Lost, Heroes, and 24 do fill this gap.   Still, Conservative financiers interested in earning superior returns on their investment, wholly outside of the Hollywood studio system, who want to produce more meaningful content can find those opportunities.

They just need to ask.

Next time, I’ll look at a more controversial topic: does Hollywood produce “art”?

Telling the story of an emotionally troubled American billionaire who travels the world in order to help desperately poor strangers in need, the show manages to condescend to the philanthropist himself, the society that allowed him to become rich, and the poor people he helps.

It condescends to the philanthropist, Teddy Rist (Phillip Purefoy) by positing that his quest was caused by an emotional reaction to a devastating personal loss–the death of his young son and subsequent breakup of his marriage. Near the beginning of the pilot episode, Rist establishes this theme strongly by saying that few people are happy these days, even people with money.

That will strike many viewers as a quite offensive notion, as it posits that happiness is based on an accumulation of material things and creature comforts. Even worse, it is false in all of its particulars: people in the United States are wealthier than ever, despite the current recession, and if material things and creature comforts made for happiness, we’d be happier than ever.

In addition to being untrue to life, this premise undermines the dramatic value of the show. By positing Rist’s philanthropy as an emotional reaction to a gnawing need within him for meaning in his life, the premise diminishes the moral praiseworthiness and dramatic power of his actions by characterizing them as not really freely chosen, as not flowing naturally from his character. Hence he cannot deserve full moral credit for his actions, as he’s really using them to fulfill his emotional needs.

Given its premise, the show can hardly help but condescend to the poor people he helps, as these ethnic people in Africa, Asia, and the like obviously need the assistance of this superior Caucasian person. Yes, their troubles are sometimes caused by natural events, such as a hurricane in Nigeria, but natural disasters in wealthy places such as the United States don’t result in the kind of devastation we see in The Philanthropist.

Obviously sensing this, the showmakers try to forestall any complaints of racism by having Rist’s business partner–designated as co-CEO of their multi-billion-dollar natural resources investment firm–played by an African-American, Jesse L. Martin (Law and Order). But that is an obvious sop to Hollywood’s absurdly unrealistic (though well-meaning) affirmative action plan in which African-Americans are continually cast in roles of corporate and government managers and common-sense conscience figures who keep flighty white people in line (those that aren’t portrayed as gang members or prostitutes).

The unreality and stereotyped nature of that premise destroys its effectiveness, and in the present case it serves only to underscore the artificiality and didacticism of the show’s concept and story lines.

The first episode of The Philanthropist even tries to blame businesses for everything that’s wrong in Nigeria, with a Nigerian official claiming that the rebel activities there are “a rebellion against the very corporate intrusion that companies like your routinely perpetrate on sovereign nations like Nigeria.

That’s absolute rot. Nigeria’s entire economy depends on Western corporations and consumers making the nation’s oil and other resources worth something. To claim that the one thing that brings wealth to that nation creates turmoil is to argue that the people there are better off scraping off a living in subsistence farming and starving to death whenever the weather isn’t just right.

In attempting to absolve the Nigerians of responsibility for their nation’s problems, the people behind The Philanthropist paint Nigerians as inferior beings who cannot even respond reasonably to being saved from starvation.

Later in that same episode, Rist is bullied by U.S. Drug Enforcement Administration agents, whose presence in Nigeria is spectacularly inexplicable but of course thoroughly sinister. This scene adds the United States government to the disruptive American forces whose involvement in Nigeria is the cause of the nation’s problems. The Philanthropist exemplifies the phenomenon noted by former U.S. Ambassador to the United Nations Jeane Kirkpatrick when she noted that many people in the United States always seem eager to “blame America first.”

The second episode, “Myanmar,” has Rist explicitly asking whether economic sanctions against oppressive governments do more harm to the government or to the people of the nation thus punished. Naturally, Rist ultimately comes to the conclusion that his corporation must not be tainted by even a secondhand relationship with such a nation by doing business with a company that does business in Myanmar.

His partner and co-CEO refers to this as “the right thing, the moral thing, the financially responsible thing.” It’s certainly the sentimental and most immediately sympathetic response, but the morality of the situation is much more complex than that, just as Rist initially thought. After all, Cuba, North Korea, and Iran have not become more humane by being cut off from Western investments, or as The Philanthropist calls them, “corporate intrusion.”

The speech by the Nigerian official mentioned earlier exemplifies another element of the show, the characterization of Rist as hubristic and somewhat clueless about the practical difficulties involved in getting help to people, which requires regular rebukes and object lessons by the locals. Hence the locals are portrayed as morally superior and more practical than Rist. But if that’s so, why are they so poor?

The answer, of course, is in the Nigerian official’s rant: Evil corporations from the West exploit the nation and strip it of its resources. But that’s obvious nonsense, as those resources are worth nothing to the locals unless they can sell them to people who can make some use of them. Hence the show is mired in contradictions in addition to being untrue to life.

Finally, The Philanthropist condescends to the society that makes possible the riches Mr. Rist distributes. In an interview for a television news show, Rist begins to talk about how much his corporation gives to charity, and then stops, disgusted that 1.9 percent is so paltry. He storms off the set and heads off to Nigeria to “look them in the eye’ and personally deliver a large shipment of necessities such as food and blankets.

This is false in two important ways in addition to the aforementioned conceit of Rist using his philanthropy to fill a psychological and emotional need.

First, the notion that corporations do good mainly by giving to charity is false and pernicious. Rist’s company buys and sells natural resources such as oil, natural gas, etc. That in itself does society an incredible amount of good–which is why people pay for it.

Thus any profit that the corporation makes that does not go back to its shareholders in the form of (very well-earned) dividends should go back into doing the good things that the corporation is already doing, or other ones which the firm can do well. The big amounts of money the corporation earns, after all, come about because they are fulfilling needs and desires which people are willing to pay for.

Yes, charity is a fine thing, but the real function and ability of corporations is to make money for their stockholders, which they can only legally accomplish by selling goods and services people want or need. In fact, many corporations have been notably pernicious in their philanthropic endeavors, often funding organizations that undermine the market system, personal liberty, and freedom of association that make the increasing wealth of the nation possible. We’d all be much better off if they stuck to what they do best.

Corporations make money by doing social good (unless assisted by government in making money from unnecessary or harmful things), and the surplus they generate–their profits–goes to additional investment (which leads to more good or decreases the corporation’s value) or to shareholders, who may then distribute it as they choose. The latter, over the entire economy, are the source of much of the nation’s monetary and in-kind philanthropy.

Even if a corporation gives no money at all directly to philanthropic endeavors, it cannot help but do good, as all the money corporations make can only go to reinvestment, debt pay-down, distributions to shareholders, or taxes. Of all these categories, the only one not especially likely to do good is the tax payments.

The second false and condescending notion in The Philanthropist regarding American business is the conceit that the forcible redirection of corporate profits by an individual is morally good and proper. It is, in fact, quite wrong for Rist to divert even what he considers a piddling amount–1.8 percent–to pet charities that will make him feel better about himself.

That is an outrageously elitist notion, that Rist knows more about what’s good for society than his stockholders do. The money he gives to charity would be much more productive, as noted earlier, by being reinvested, paying down debt, or distributed to shareholders. All of those things have the potential to create further economic value, from which all of society ultimately benefits.

Rist is doing exactly what governments do, forcibly extracting money from other people and claiming moral superiority for doing so. He does show courage, determination, and self-sacrifice in bringing help to people in need, but that doesn’t make what he’s doing morally right.

Finally, the notion that what really makes the world a better place is philanthropy is entirely false.

What makes the world better, at least in simple material terms and in the creation of opportunities for personal fulfillment, is increasing wealth. And although many people–such as the producers of The Philanthropist–make extravagant claims about how philanthropic activities created various breakthrough developments, the reality is that the wealth of nations is created by the daily effort on the part of millions of people to earn their keep by doing things that benefit other people sufficiently that the latter are willing to pay for them.

Philanthropy is a good and fine thing indeed, but it’s a choice best made by individuals to give of their own wealth in a compassionate hope of doing good for others. Forcible extraction of other people’s money, even for charitable purposes, is not philanthropy; it’s tyranny.

Like its protagonist, The Philanthropist means well, but its premises undermine the very things that make philanthropy possible.

I wish.  But then, I’m a trial lawyer and I could use a new house.

Sadly, the real world is much more esoteric than the portrait Hollywood paints, and the real threat is not quite so picturesque.  Instead of corporate death squads composed of hardboiled mercenaries with high tech assault rifles, the real killers are boring jihadi doofuses with dusty AKs, booby-trapped Fiats and the occasional boxcutter.   

Let’s stop and check the numbers.  Real terrorists, counting the victims of 9/11 and American losses in Iraq and Afghanistan: Over 7900 murdered. Victims of corporate murder: Zero. Nada. Zip. I would add in the number of Iraqis and Afghanis murdered by these folks, except that toll is beyond counting.  And to many liberals, their lives don’t seem to count anyway.

Oh, wait, this is where some feverish troll jumps on his iMac and starts spouting off about Karen Silkwood. Silkwood was a union organizer at a plutonium reprocessing plant who crashed and died one night in 1974.  You probably remember the shower scene in the film of the same name where the evil corporate minions not-so-gently decontaminate a shrieking Meryl Streep.   It’s an article of faith among the paranoid left that the evil company ran her car off the road.  You know it has to be true because in the movie before the crash, a pair of headlights looms ominously behind Streep as she drives to a meeting with a reporter.

Heck, I’m convinced.  Those headlights did look really ominous.  

And it’s a pretty plausible scenario too.  The smart move for any multi-billion dollar company facing an expose is to murder the reporters’ source.  No way that could possibly wrong.  It’s much more plausible – and exciting – than her falling asleep and driving into a ditch because of the double dose of Quaalude in her bloodstream like the police concluded.

At least “24″ has an excuse – after seven seasons, it’s pretty much run out of villains, and it certainly has had no problem in the past pointing out that jihadis, you know, really do want to kill Americans.  But others do not have that excuse. 

The homicidal business man is their default villain.  It’s become something more than even a cliché – it’s an assumption.   A businessman appears on screen and you can just assume he’s going to try to off the hero.  That the concept of corporate assassins is objectively ridiculous is not an obstacle.  Remember, these people also think the key to improving health care is to let the same kind of geniuses behind the Department of Motor Vehicles control it. 

Liberal Hollywood loves corporate villains because to face up to the real threat is just too great a challenge to their world view.  Business people?  Bad.  Third world guys who hate America?  “Well, let’s just forget about them and make the villain a drug company that just happens to employ an elite team of contract killers.  Now, where’s my swine flu vaccine?”

Gimme a break.  Even if our bankers, financiers and industrialists wanted to pull off one of these intricate conspiracies, does it really seem like they could?  Look at the news.  Big business can’t even do what it’s supposed to do anymore, much less mastermind fiendish schemes.  Could the brain trust at Wachovia whack an opponent?  They can’t even keep their doors open.  Countrywide would bring the same precise attention to detail to its wet work as it did to its underwriting – and miss the target every time.  GM and Chrysler’s hitmen would organize.  The next thing we would hear is that International Brotherhood of Termination Workers Local 187 is on strike for a cushy jobs bank to retrain snipers with trigger finger repetitive stress injuries to reclassify as car bombers.  And card check would just make it worse.

That assumes that hitmen could keep their jobs at all in this economy.  Murder is not a profit center and corporations are cutting back.  Look for hordes of unemployed button men downtown holding signs saying “Will kill for food” standing next to laid-off New York Times writers promising “Will shill shamelessly for $.”

Where would the companies find these killers anyway – on Craigslist, between the ads for $5 used sofas and creepy adult encounters?  Hollywood always makes these thugs ex-military, which makes sense since the government tells us that veterans are violent extremists.  Still, I must have missed the corporate recruiter’s booth at the veterans job fair promising prospects the chance to “Come grow with us as you kill with us.”   

The fact is that today’s corporate environment is no place for self-respecting hitmen – excuse me, hitpeople.  The Director of Diversity would constantly be hounding them with PowerPoint presentations about their failure to meet her goal of increasing the number of differently-abled lesbian Hindu assassins by 43.2%.  And don’t get her started on how pistol silencers “send a message of non-inclusiveness through their phallocentric appearance.”