This scene, where the father played so warmly and memorably by Donald Crisp enters into a contract with his young son (the extraordinary Roddy McDowall) agreeing to reward him for every scrape and bruise, has stuck with me more than any other from this Academy-Award winner since I first saw it over thirty-years ago.

This isn’t a father paying a son to fight or even to fight back; he’s paying him to be a man and teaching him what I believe is the most important lesson in life. That living with the shame of a coward always avoiding, hiding from or on the run from a righteous fight, is a fate worse than anything – much less a fat lip, black eye or whatever.  

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Whether it’s in the schoolyard or on the battlefield or in the political arena, director John Ford is telling us that while you should never start a fight, you should also never run from one. Each of us has a duty to stand up, to ball our fists, and to take it to the bullies — whether they’re bullying us or anyone else. This is as timeless and vital a message as it was 70 years ago.

The older I get the more I notice and appreciate the care and detail that went into the thematic construction of many of these classic films. Our classic filmmakers very much wanted to shape and mold our society into something better — something more resilient, independent and dignified. (more…)

It’s hard to put into words what my father means to me. He’s old school. So writing some emotional, eloquent, diatribe to his greatness would likely embarrass him more than it would pay tribute. There is an art form to the minimalist compliment among men that I’m still trying to master. My favorite scene in “It’s A Wonderful Life” is when George Bailey sits at the table with his father and can’t put into words how he feels about his old man, “You want a shock, Pop? I think you’re a great guy.”

Part of what I love about my father is how he is a vessel that carries the good things from the past into the future. His generation may have brought some bad things along with them too, but we don’t mourn or fear the passing of bad things. It’s the good things that I fear are leaving us, and our society no longer produces men like Lincoln, Johnny Cash or even my dad. That’s what a father is, a vessel that ushers greatness into the next generation. Dads bring great things from the old school to the new school. (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…)