Notes From D.R. | Random Thoughts on the Passing Scene

With early reports of the failure of Kimberly Peirce’s anti-Bush screed Stop-Loss at the US box office, here’s hoping that Hollywood has finally gotten the we-hate-Dubya sentiment out of its system.

These “Bush sucks” movies (Lions for Lambs, Redacted, Rendition, In the Valley of Elah, etc.) will be remembered as a Hollywood fad, like the body-switching movies of the late-‘80s and the “erotic thrillers” of the late-’80s and early-‘90s. The only anti-Bush movie that had any real success at the box office was Michael Moore’s Fahrenheit 9/11—and that film’s success had a lot to do with Moore’s status as the Rush Limbaugh of the left.

Why have most of these anti-Bush movies failed? It’s not because there is still a reservoir of pro-Bush sentiment in this country: after all, most conservatives can’t even stand the man these days because of his lack of conservatism on issues such as illegal immigration. Rather, these films are tanking due to their predictability.

Most Americans know that Hollywood is filled with self-described “progressives” who loathe Bush and anything connected to conservatism, the Republican Party or “traditional American values.” They recognize that whenever Hollywood makes a movie about Bush or the Iraq War, the film will not contain anything that goes against the liberal template.

If Hollywood made one movie—just one movie—about the Iraq War that presented a “right-wing” or “pro-victory” take on the conflict, I guarantee that it would gross in excess of $100 million. Americans would see such a film not because they would necessarily agree with the film’s conservative politics, but because it would finally represent something different. (It can be argued that a significant portion of the money The Passion of the Christ made in 2004 came not from people who were particularly religious, but from people who liked the film because it was unlike ninety percent of Hollywood’s usual product.)

However, Hollywood would never make a non-liberal film about Iraq or Bush because the industry would regard such as film as fundamentally immoral. The industry is so narrow-minded that it cannot countenance a view of Iraq or Bush that is not negative.

Years ago, Limbaugh argued that the modern-day left, which grew up loathing Vietnam and Nixon, now regards Iraq as the new Vietnam and Bush as the new Nixon. However, it is logically impossible to compare Iraq to Vietnam, or Bush to Nixon. Iraq has not been as financially perilous or as casualty-filled as Vietnam was; in addition, we do not have a draft to force unwilling participants into Iraq, as we did during the Vietnam era. As for Bush, he has never done anything in office that even remotely compares to the crimes Nixon committed; using intelligence that later turned out to be faulty to build a case for war is not the same as obstructing justice. Bush cannot be rationally viewed as the same social menace Nixon was perceived to be: whereas Nixon was caught on tape disparaging people of color, Bush has appointed more people of color to high positions than any previous President–including the first black President.

Hollywood is full of folks who came of age during the late-‘60s and early-‘70s, and who now view Iraq and Bush the same way they viewed Vietnam and Nixon. They are wedded to the past, with no knowledge of how to seek a divorce. They cannot comprehend that there are intelligent Americans who don’t think of Iraq as an unnecessary quagmire, and who don’t regard Bush as a Mephistophelean figure. They have their issues with the war and with Bush, but they are not filled with contempt for the conflict and the Commander-in-Chief leading it.

Hollywood has embarrassed itself with these over-the-top Bush-bashing films. How many people like politics in their movies anyway? The last truly successful non-documentary film dealing with political issues was Mike Nichols’ The Birdcage, which came out in the middle of the Clinton era, during a time of relative calm in the culture wars. Even hardcore anti-Dubya types won’t run out to see these Bush-bashing films, because the pictures tell progressives something they already know. These movies are fundamentally pointless—so why are they even being made?

One can only assume the producers of these films simply want to “make a statement”—even if that statement comes at a temporary financial cost. The men and women behind these pictures want to tell the rest of the world that they share the international opinion of Bush and the war. Even if these films bomb, they can be offset by future successes: whatever grief Paramount Pictures feels as a result of Stop-Loss’ failure will be alleviated by the joy of the profits generated by such summer releases as Iron Man and Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull.  From Hollywood’s perspective, it’s no harm, no foul. From America’s perspective, it’s no class, no respect.