THE ASSASSINATION OF JESSE JAMES: By People's Impatience

In 2001, film audiences were punished for various and egregious crimes against humanity with the release of American Outlaws. And for the twentieth time in about as many years, the Western film genre was declared dead. Alongside American Outlaws, films such as The Alamo and Shanghai Noon fried the public’s mind like an egg yet found the funding largely thanks to self-congratulatory patriotism. The American West is the largest reservoir of cultural identity and has been so over-filtered to appease advocates of national or individual exceptionalism that any semblance of reality is disregarded nearly out of habit.

Fortunately, in 2007 a film found peerless expression and swam harmoniously in a cove of brazen maturity. The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford proved its theatrical and thematic merits thanks to the complex studies of the two title characters. Indeed, the film epitomizes the tragedy of humanizing the real people who are hidden by a cloak of cultural creation--especially with idols so propped up as asocial geniuses dependent on the air of individuality, as in the case of the “legendary” American outlaw Jesse James.

The movie starts off somewhat past the pinnacle of the notorious James Gang criminal spree and exploits to the point of where the victims are as numerous as they are forgotten. Robert Ford (Casey Affleck), a young man dreaming of becoming an icon on par with, or surpassing, Jesse James (Brad Pit), finds the gang in the woods preparing for yet another train robbery. Ford gains lukewarm acceptance into the gang on the coat tails of his own older brother Charley (Sam Rockwell), who may just have a room temperature IQ.

Robert Ford introduces himself, saying he knows he is "destined for great things" with such unflinching conviction that the self-spun prophecy leaves the year 1888 in the dust, finding more commonality in the 21st century. A recent study showed that the most popular dream job for grade school children is to be some "celebrity." Anymore, most young people muster the courage of Robert Ford and out-rightly boast that they'll "be famous" someday or they pride themselves with artificial modesty, only whispering, when nobody else is around, that they know it is actually they who "are destined for great things."

As the months go by in the film world, the individual gang members fall prey to the authorities, unfortunate luck and each other. To make matters worse, Ford begins to see Jesse James as an inwardly tortured sociopath and not the charming, dime novel outlaw hero Ford grew up reading about. Similarly, Jesse James finds himself uneasy about Ford’s personal fantasies and unrealistic expectations. At one point-blank moment, James asks Ford, “Do you want to be like me or do you want to be me?” Obviously posing the question reveals the impossibility of Ford’s aspirations.

That Robert Ford becomes so blindly disappointed with reality and shares a surname with classic-Western film director John Ford might deserve a wink from the astute. Don’t let the film’s title act as a spoiler, the journey is more important than the destination.

"Why don't you ever listen to anything I say?"--Ford

"It's down the hall and to the left."--James

After the deed, [Robert] Ford is pardoned and goes on to re-enact the story, blank-shooting his way through hundreds of stage performances. Unexpected to Ford though, public opinion quickly turns on him, for fame should never be the goal but rather a side effect. Jesse James, through his premature death, becomes more of a hero than ever before and especially more than had he become an old man or given a life-sentence. Simply, the public turned on Ford as they began to forget how dangerous Jesse James really had been but remembered that Ford had shot him in the back of the head; an act that was seemingly, though Ford would adamantly deny, cowardly. Again, don’t let the title act as a spoiler, cowardice is neither the film’s question nor the answer.

The most popular characteristic of Jesse James in the 1880s, as now, is his similarities to the occasionally real archer, Robin Hood. During the late 19th century, the gap between the rich and the poor was greatly widening. Many cities developed over-populated slums and many farmers and ranchers went bust in the West. Conversely, railroad tycoons, bankers and land speculators made vast fortunes. So when the James Gang robbed banks and railroads, people saw it as a form of striking back against the super-wealthy. Unfortunately the similarities with Robin Hood end at “stealing from the rich,” as the common misconception of Jesse “giving to the poor” is ill-found in history and appropriately derided in the film. Instead, he just robbed banks, trains, murdered unarmed people and tried to restart the Civil War.

Related to the time period, industrialization grew out from the East—specifically photography and book publishing—while the Old West, according to Fredrick Jackson Turner ("Freddie J Turn-master" to his friends), closed down and was reduced from a physical place to a collective memory. This combined to make Jesse James one of the first American celebrities. And with any celebrity, people came to admire, mock and spurn the mythology, not the person. The film diligently displays the assassination as the Ford brothers (Robert and Charley) repeatedly said how it went down, as they were the only two remaining witnesses. Seemingly the only reason their story is never questioned is the fact that neither claims any impressive feat of speed, grit or accuracy.

Contrary to the aforementioned, charming rule-bender status bestowed upon Jesse James in the public’s mind, the supposed Bart Simpson-esque outlaw in this film is quiet, vindictive and, at times, mule-ass crazy. He’s the kind of guy who decapitates snakes, the kind of guy who enthusiastically beats up a fourteen-year-old boy for information. He is playful with his family, yet never focused on them and perhaps even using them as a PR-shield, for retiring the guns would be worse than death. Staying an arms-length away from the authorities has taken its toll on James and each scene shows a (supporting) character fraying more than the scene before.

The filmmakers were able to give American audiences a new look at a character they had become so familiar with since the Western genre boom in the 1950s. While an outlaw was an outlaw, and therefore the villain in any movie prior to World War II, perceptions changed after the war as the public was willing to accept moral ambiguities, criminal camaraderie and authoritarian abuses of power. This mindset stayed with audiences through the decades, continually making Jesse James a young, rogue, handsome, gun-slinger that controlled his own, exciting destiny—much to the envy of millions of Snuggie-wearing Americans. Because of this habitual love affair with outlaws, especially Jesse James, this film deserves some credit for the risky attempt to deconstruct—nay disprove—what Americans want our history to be.

From the 1903 flick, The Great Train Robbery through last summer’s Cowboys and Aliens, Westerns are almost entirely cinematic funhouse mirrors; distortions so removed from reality that any mouth-breather can pepper a political speech with unfound, cowboy truisms and be thrown into office. The problem is that Jesse James was not fun to be around. And we need to understand what that means.

So far removed from the decade’s other cowboy films as to almost escape the entire genre itself, The Assassination of Jesse James is a dauntless tale of idolization, betrayal and fame surrounding one of the most recognized criminals in American history. The parallels of Robert Ford to any number of people in this relentless celebrity-obsessed culture is as timely, audacious and warranted as any history-based film can hope to achieve. Because of its multi-depth significance and methodical pacing, this film will likely be remembered as a greater movie in the years to come than it was blandly received some four years ago.

Roosevelt vs. Putin: Judgement Day (part two)

Time to think more laterally in a head-to-head match up between Putin and Roosevelt.

Education:

Putin went to LSU. Not the SEC football school with a history filled with more miracles than the Holy Land, but actually Leningrad State University. I can’t speak for the quality of the school so I guess that’s a strike against it. Putin used his education to become the head of a regional newspaper, which I guess is nice. And with his international studies, he can speak Russian (duh), English, German and French.

Meanwhile, TR graduated from Harvard (hey, I’ve heard of that school!) with a degree in history (holla’!). Roosevelt went on to write several books about naval warfare and ecology. Roosevelt took just long enough breaks from writing to be a New York state legislator (at age 23) and police commissioner—basically Batman’s boss—who walked the streets of New York beating up cops who took bribes. Frankly, that TR wrote books almost by accident while scribbling on napkins is insulting to struggling writers (me, others), but whatever. Oh yeah, and TR would match Putin’s German and French literacy and raise him with fluency in Italian, Greek and Latin.

Putin:3

TR: 4

In the Environment:

Putin has tranquilized and tagged both wild and escaped tigers and bears. Often, these are great photo-ops as the leader of Russian gets to open the jaws of a 400-lb man-eating tiger. But Putin’s environmentalism doesn’t just stop at tranquilizing wild animals, he also signed the Kyoto Protocol—which may have been more toothless than the tigers Putin tackled, but it’s still a nice gesture I guess.

TR, though, practically invented environmentalism. Between the Antiquities Act and creation of National Parks, Roosevelt did more good for wildlife in America than any other president until that hippie, tree-hugger Nixon created the EPA in 1970. Roosevelt also famously refused to shoot a tied-up bear cub, thus creating the “Teddy Bear”—a nickname the Colonel deeply despised for himself. After his presidency, TR filled the National Natural History Museum—and several zoos—with flora and fauna from all around the world so that Americans could see and learn from the previously unseen. However, for all the good TR did for American animals, he absolutely wasted animals around the world by the truckload. If he knocked an animal out it wasn’t thanks to tranquilizers, it was because he beat it with the butt of his rifle. So obviously that’s a lot cooler.

Putin: 3

TR: 5

Cartography:

Kyrgyzstan named a mountain after Putin and he wants to climb it, for he must be the tallest Putin on Earth once again.

Brazil renamed the River of Doubt to Rio Roosevelt (later Rio Teo) after Roosevelt, his son Kermit and a couple other men became the first party to successfully navigate the seriously deadly 1000-mile river. The first party. Ever. Also, Roosevelt separated the American continents by punching the ground and calling it the Panama Canal.

Putin:3

TR:6

Pets:

Putin’s black lab, Koni, is a rather famous dog for always following Putin on world tours and just generally intimidating other people/pets. A notable example was when Koni nearly ate George W. Bush’s Scottish terrier Barney. Apparently Bush's Barney isn’t much better at instilling fear than any other Barney’s.

Surely Roosevelt had cool pets, you say! Surely! Oh God, yes. Roosevelt had so many animals in the White House that modern day readers might think he was expecting a worldwide flood--and wanted to have plenty of fresh meat after the storm. Seriously, TR had at least five dogs. And a snake (his son Quentin had 4). TR also had a lizard, 5 guinea pigs, a regular pig, a badger, a parrot, a hen, a one-legged rooster (don’t ask about the other leg), a rabbit, a pony, an owl and a hyena. Also, just for kicks, he was known for releasing a small bear and lion cubs on the White House grounds just for kicks.

Putin: 3

TR: 7

Progeny:

Putin has two daughters of whom nothing is really known.

Roosevelt wins hands down. Even the grandchildren are awesome. The greatest crime America has ever committed is not forcing Roosevelt to be our king so that a lineage of ass-kicking could be harnessed for political ends. All surviving sons fought in both world wars. Theodore Roosevelt, Jr. won the Medal of Honor for being the only general to land in Normandy on D-Day; and he did so with a walking stick and pistol. Junior’s humor, leadership and confidence during the blood-soaked beach landing inspired all the men within earshot and saved countless lives. Archibald Roosevelt was declared 100% disabled for grenade in injuries...in both World Wars and his son was one of the founders of the CIA and had a speaking or reading knowledge of over 20 languages! Kermit Roosevelt captured animals in the Himalayas and Amazon. Kermit, Jr. was a 1950s American spy and single-handedly staged an Iranian coup d’etat in 1953!

Putin: 3

TR: 8

Actual Assassination Attempts:

In February this year, two militants were arrested in the Ukraine for plotting the assassination of Vladimir Putin--who was running for President after a four-year break. News of the arrests broke shortly before the elections, prompting some politicos to question the convenient timing. While the assassins never really got that close, the plan counts as something like the seventh serious plot to kill Putin, only to never touch him. As a peculiar amount of my readers are from the Ukraine, I'll limit their similarities to Wile E Coyote.

Not counting the Dakota outlaws, New York criminals and Cuba-based Spaniards that took shots at Roosevelt, the man was also targeted by an assassin while (get this!) running for President for a second time after his own four-year vacation. Roosevelt's would-be assassin was motivated by the ghost of William McKinney (so bonus points on the crazy-scale) and actually shot Theodore Roosevelt. Of course, no bullet would have the guts to attack Roosevelt and so tried to escape, but Old TR jumped in the way and caught the bullet with chest. Unconcerned, TR went on to give his prepared speech (that actually had bullet holes in it!) while horrified on-lookers watched the candidate/former-President bleed and speak for 80 minutes. Yeah.

Putin: 3

TR: 9

The Respect of Contemporaries:

France gave Putin an award for miscellaneous humanity work. More ridiculously, President Bush famously “saw Putin’s soul” and decided then and there that Putin was an American ally.

Thomas Riley Marshall, the incredible vice-president to Woodrow Wilson, responded to the news of Theodore Roosevelt’s death in 1919 by saying, “Death had to take him sleeping, for if Roosevelt had been awake there would have been a fight.”

Final Score:

Putin: 3

TR: 10

Nice effort, Putin. But Roosevelt still crushed you.

"Any other challengers from your pathetic century?"

(p.s. Happy Birthday, Chuckles)

LOCKOUT: Oscar Wilde with a Shotgun

While this has been a personally disappointing year in cinema so far, I still find myself at the movie theater. Perhaps to escape the early nice weather, I don’t know. The string of disappointments started with “Tailor Tinker Soldier Spy” and at least continued through Guy Pierce’s bicep showcase, “Lockout.” In the interest of full-disclosure, shortly after leaving the theater, I must have been bludgeoned over the head as I cannot recall a startlingly large amount of the movie. Thankfully, the plot was neither a primary nor secondary nor even tertiary concern to the film production. I suspect the crews’ catering occupied more deliberations and concerns. Why some action movies cast themselves as so defiantly passive is beyond me but it makes for a nice exercise in viral criticism.

Basically “Lockout” is a throwback to dumb-downed, mid-concept action films of the 1990s. Ah yes, the 1990s. It was a post-beefcake time, where the barely articulate bodybuilders (Rainier Wolfcastle and the like) of the 1980s were being replaced by hyper-sarcastic, high-cheek-boned loose cannons. Indeed, Guy Pierce—whose real name is already a B-action movie hero name—is given exactly zero lines meant to be delivered in earnest. He is indifference, casual and genius. With a level of self-awareness that stops just short from looking at the camera and winking, Guy Everyman Piece is so in his element above the 20 or 30 intellectual peons in the movie that he just might has well have been Oscar Wilde with a shotgun.

Such witty retorts as “That’s not what your wife said last night” and “I guess that's why they call it the punch line” deliver Guy Pierce Stone into the pantheon of movie assholes, exactly one notch above most protagonists in modern, crime-based, video games. Surrounding the verbal sniping, the plot itself (President’s daughter taken hostage by convicts in an Earth-orbiting space station prison) was likely rejected by movie studios in the 1990s, only to be resurrected with the well of ideas 12 years dryer. Regrettably there is neither the intellectual social commentary of “Escape from New York” nor the political theorizing of “Air Force One.”

In fact, the lone cultural significance of the movie can be entirely credited to the absurdly lucky release date. On the exact weekend that “Lockout” was released, the real White House was slapped by a scandal involving 11 Secret Service agents and Columbian prostitutes. While the federal government is used to dealing with prostitutes of the media-variety, this debacle is a unique window into the rare arrogance and miscalculation of the Secret Service. Likewise, all the deaths in “Lockout” can be traced back to the arrogance and miscalculation of the Secret Service. Never before has the Secret Service screwed the pooch so hard and had the President live to tell about it.

The Secret Service looked awesome and President Reagan lived;

who can say which came first.

And had this movie made twice as much money, it might have satiated the outraged appetites of the pettiest racists. It’s hard to call these plot-twists—as only a person with a very specific kind of head wound could possibly be fooled—but in all unfortunate plot turns a black guy is entirely responsible. Conversely, all the educated leaders (good and bad) are white. And never before has the bureaucracy of government, and a collection of newly-liberated felons each, acted with such mutually-exclusive unity and clarity of command. In the end, few people who voiced outrage when, the infinitely entertaining, Donald Glover was rumored to play the next Spiderman will see “Lockout” and, for that matter, be trapped in the theater and gassed.

The most surprising failing of “Lockout,” though, might be the complete lack of fighting creativity. Action scenes are brisk and simple. The PG-13 deaths are numerous, inconsequential and redundant. There is no escalation of drama, significant movement or purpose. Continuing, the self-serving sarcasm of Joe Guy Pierce is decidedly absent when a pre-mortem one-liner would be at home. Despite, or possibly because of, the sponge-brained wit of the movie, a pair of drunk guys in the front row acted as the movie’s two-man laugh track.

Even for the guiltiest of pleasures in escapist cinema, “Lockout” is too constrained to be entertaining. Movies like these make me long for the days I could play with action figures and smash them together in a half-hearted attempt at narrative cohesion. Failing that, I could have at least spent two hours sitting on my porch, suffering mid-60s weather and awaiting the next local police-involving eventuality. Time wasted, indeed.

Roosevelt vs. Putin: Judgement Day

It’s no secret that we live in a troubled time, nor is it much more of a secret that we would be living in much, much better times if we could count President Theodore Roosevelt among the living. When Roosevelt came to prominence, America was trying to extend its grasp internationally while closely recovering from the internal turmoil resulting from din and dour sub-cultures. Oddly, another country is in a comparable situation nowadays. More oddly, the country has found one of the few men in the last century with so many raw experiences, iron leadership and near mythology that he can almost be described as Rooseveltian. Most oddly of all, we all know this man. I’m talking about Prime Minister Vladimir Putin.

We (er, Americans) have been conditioned to disregard Putin as an icy, possibly evil, leader of a formerly powerful nation. He’s the Bill Belichek of international relations. But he’s more than that. Yes, he was the Prime Minister of Russia. And he was the President. And he is the Prime Minister, again, and I think we should all be interested.

I think we have a contender for the throne of manliness. Witness a battle between Theodore Roosevelt and Vladimir Putin, a battle which if actually fought would likely bring about the end of the world.

Military Service:

Basic stuff here. Roosevelt was in the Navy Department and resigned his office so that he could round up volunteers and invade/liberate Cuba. Roosevelt didn’t so much hate the occupying Spanish so much as he wanted to actually fight, which quickened all the fighting. Charging up San Juan Hill, Roosevelt’s horse got tired and gave up (as war horses are wont to do). The Colonel, as the man preferred to be called for the rest of his life, would not so much as stand next to a quitter and so continued the charge on foot. However, the American forces greatly outnumbered the defending Spanish and took the hill with a rather regrettable body count. Kind of a reverse-Alamo thing, actually; so it’s kind of hard to make the whole thing seem patriotic, brave or even necessary.

Putin, meanwhile, rose through the ranks as a counter-intelligence officer for the KGB. Now that doesn’t exactly mean Putin and the other Soviets were against intelligence, per se, but it does seem that way when reports and rumors leek out. While the CIA had its number of flubs, embarrassments and downright catastrophes, the KGB doesn’t have much else to hang its hat on. At times, the CIA might be Homer Simpson—fat, dumb and irresponsible—but the KGB is Barney Gumble—even fatter, even dumber and perpetually incoherent. And like Barney Gumble, Putin likely killed people by accident and on purpose. (NOTE: I'm not actually sure Barney ever killed a Simpsons character, but as I stopped watching the show several hundred episodes ago, anything may be possible.)

Roosevelt was somewhat of a blue blood and started off in great jobs because of his family connections but Putin rose like a weed so I’m actually giving the first victory to Putin.

Putin: 1

TR: 0

War:

As leader of his country, Putin has kept U.S.-Russian relations chilled at best. He’s dealt with Chechnya and invaded Georgia with aplomb remarks and international indifference. However, he’s also been restrained by America and could only “snub” President Obama when America put new military installations in Poland. Frankly, America could drape a giant flag over Russia, blocking out their sun and the only retaliation would be a higher cost of natural gas in Europe—which would actually just hurt Russia even more. War just isn’t what it used to be.

And what it used to be was Roosevelt. The man started/ended the Spanish-American War over two weekends and then demanded to invade Germany during the outbreak of WWI. Bear in mind, Roosevelt had actually spent time years earlier traveling in Belgium and Germany and likely knew as much about German territory and military leadership as much as anybody. President Wilson was too scared to unsheathe TR though and the war became a stalemate. Wilson basically benched Michael Jordan in the fourth quarter and got bit in his scholarly ass for it.

Notably, Roosevelt had won a Nobel Peace Prize years earlier for negotiating the end of the Russo-Japanese War—presumably by threatening that he’d invade both countries if they didn’t broker a peace agreement. The Colonel, a posthumous Medal of Honor winner, would often lament in his later years that there was no war during his presidency because he felt he wouldn’t be remembered as a great leader if no war defined him. Wrong.

Putin: 1

TR: 1

Physical Combat:

Putin was Steven Segal’s guest at a recent MMA championship match. While this seems random at first, try to escape this headlock: Putin himself is an actual judo champion and well-versed in mixed martial arts. I don’t mean “well-versed” in that he can talk intelligently about the sport, I mean that he fights people in the ring and developed his own moves.

Similarly, and perhaps equally stunning, President Roosevelt was a judo champion and an amateur boxer. Roosevelt, though, loses a few marks because he likely only boxed Irish immigrants in that corny old-timey way with the fists upside down. HOWEVER! Roosevelt had asthma as a child and often couldn’t breath until years later when he learned to eat asthma and never stopped mountain hiking again. I’ll split this round.

Putin: 2

TR: 2

Guns:

Putin toured a gun show some time ago and allowed himself to be moderately impressed by a few of the most ridiculous guns on display. While he had some fun, his associates where apparently all terrified he’d tell any one of them to start running while he counted to ten.

"Niko Antanoli would still be alive if he hadn't spent his first six seconds pleading for mercy."

President TR, the Colonel, routinely carried a loaded pistol…in the White House.

Putin: 2

TR: 3

Sidekicks:

Roosevelt’s political sidekick would easily be William Taft, the relatively unknown man he handpicked to basically inherit the White House—a practice so rare that I can barely think of another example except possibly for Reagan-Bush. Taft was a territory governor of the Philippines and had no real political or military experience. However, Taft was plus 300 pounds during his own presidency so you’d think he’d be good to have in a fight, if for no other reason than for snaring people in the dreaded “Taft Grab.” In reality, Taft was reduced to tears four years later when Roosevelt called him a “fat head” during the 1912 campaign—which means 1) Taft could be broken, 2) TR and Taft weren’t a great duo and 3) TR was not particularly adroit at insulting people.

Oppositely, Putin has Dmitry Medvedev—the current President of Russia who "transmits" information to Putin. Like Taft, Medvedev was chosen by Putin with minimal consideration given to the free public. Also like Team Taft-TR, Putin looked to retake his throne from his 4-year placeholder thanks to a Russian political loophole. Unlike Taft in 1912, Medvedev stepped aside and gave Putin his old office back in the very condition he left it in. Corrupt? Maybe. Loyal? Most definitely. Loyalty wins out.

Putin: 3

TR: 3

Holy shit. Tie game going into half.

ADAM'S RIB: Everybody Wears Pants

The classic combo of Spencer Tracy and Katharine Hepburn is an easy piece of appreciation for film nerds. It also ranges between an apathetic afterthought and complete unfamiliarity for just about anybody who saw “Transformers 3” or “Twilight: Breaking Wind”. Regardless of any real legacy, the real life couple filled the movie screen for more than a handful of films, perhaps none more explicitly than the 1949 romantic comedy, “Adam’s Rib.” More socially aware than most romantic comedies then or now, this film explicitly challenged the gender stereotypes of American society--in theory--while reinforcing them in presentation. Justifiably remembered or not, the film is a peculiar marker for how far our society has come/fallen.

Tracy plays Adam Bonner, an assistant D.A. in New York City (with the most hyper-masculine name this side of Gregory Peck) who is determined to enforce the law as completely and as often as possible. It is for this reason that he seeks an attempted murder conviction for a woman who shot and injured her adulterous husband while in the presence of his lover. However, Tracy (for he barely plays a character) didn’t reckon that the defense attorney would turn the courtroom into a battleground for feminism. Tracy also didn’t reckon that the defense attorney would be his wife, Amanda (played by Katherine Hepburn). In the courtroom and at home the married couple battle over the legal system, cultural perceptions and gender expectations. Unfortunately after each day and night of verbal sparring (and in one case, spanking), the couple becomes more hurt and discover both are in danger of losing more than a court case. Hilarious? I guess so, but I also think audience’s had a slightly different sense of humor in 1949 than I do in 2012.

They don't make trailers like they used to....thank God.

(This trailer literally boasts that the movie is "a swell show.")

As Hepburn’s defense is entirely circled around the idea that her defendant is being unfairly accused and characterized because of her gender, the film is obviously making some point on post-war gender relations. In fact, the casting of the fiery Hepburn would likely be enough cause to label this film as an early representation of Hollywood feminism, but the story enthusiastically pushes the concept into purposeful clarity.

Immediately into her defense, Hepburn argues that the accused shooter was metaphorically "defending her home" and had the three principle parties (injured husband, shooter wife and by-standing home wrecker) been reversed in gender, no jury would find the shooter guilty. Sitting in the audience/jury, I found this assertion lacking plenty. Hepburn gave no legal precedent for a man getting away with shooting an adulterous wife, nor was she challenging an unjust law. Indeed, a cursory memory of classic films set in the same time period recalls the conviction (of an innocent) Andy Dufresne in “Shawshank Redemption” for the exact situation Hepburn decried as impossible.

Hepburn claimed to fight for equal rights but at no point were her (or any woman’s) rights legally restricted. Unlike the African-Americans of 1949, white women weren’t legally forced to ride the back of the bus, drink out of different water fountains or go to different schools. Real sexism, like racism, isn’t about just being ‘uncomfortable’—it’s institutionalized. That’s not to contend women were (or are) treated entirely fair by all members of society, but that the film failed to question its own hypothetical argument and drive said argument to its paradoxical conclusion.

Another major part of Hepburn’s defense brings women with no direct baring on the trial to the witness stand. Legally unorthodox/preposterous, these women include a young biochemist and a heavyset weight lifter. These women demonstrate their own intelligence and physical strength to the jury/film audience, though any conclusions are ambiguous at best. Obviously the women were meant to display some sort of normalcy in their excellence, but the fact that they were exceptional seems to hinder, if not disprove, the point the defense grasps at. Not to mention the court room talent show highlighted Hepburn’s willingness, or even desperation, in manipulating the jury’s feelings outside of the cold, legal evidence.

But all of Hepburn’s prickly wit, bafflingly irrelevant witnesses and over-articulation couldn’t make me forget that the movie started off with a woman (the shooter) being pushed around on a city street and shoved into a subway. Clearly out of her element and surrounded by stone-faced men, this woman’s beginning montage did nothing but fuel the notion that a regular mother of three can’t handle city life. Rather, only the exceptionally bright, law school-educated, surprisingly-female Hepburn can somehow rise above her gender and match her male counterparts in the courtroom and on the streets. When somebody goes to extraordinary lengths to prove themselves normal, they have failed to do so.

Set in 1949, the year the movie was released, I have to imagine the film thought itself accurate to its depiction of American women. This film is undoubtedly some shade of feminism, but it doesn’t have the depth necessary for any audience member familiar with our post-nu-wave-chill re-modernism.

Nobody in the film or viewing audience is allowed to know what legal inequalities, restrictions or social prejudices Hepburn is ever referring to, but only told that Hepburn—if for no other reason than she is Katherine Hepburn—is in the right to make pathos arguments. By taking itself relentlessly serious, the comedy fails to be as fun as “Bringing Up Baby” (where Hepburn gets to be “the clown”) or as culturally balanced as “The African Queen” (where Hepburn’s screen authority is easily matched by Humphrey Bogart).

Most unfortunately, while the film is philosophically simplistic, it still has multi-dimensional characters and crackling dialogue--the likes of which have vanished from modern romantic comedies. Tragically, the same can be said for Katherine Hepburn, whose ghost invariably gags at the stench of cinematic, female-geared drivel such as “Bride Wars,” “When in Rome,” and “What’s Your Number.”

I suppose the armchair feminism displayed in “Adam’s Rib” might evoke clap-ter from the loudest womyn interested in marginalized cinema, but it’s just ultimately too willing to jump into constricting connotations—as hinted in the film’s title (i.e. the rib of Adam = a disposable part of man). Perhaps the better idea comes from the old joke that when God created woman, he gave her three breasts. However, the middle one got in the way and God took it back. The woman then asked what should they do with the useless boob…and so God created man.

Critical Hits: The Most Baffling Presidential Smears

If there were anyway to measure the reciprocal adage, I’d wager that politics do not bring out the worst in people but rather people bring out the worst in politics. Lamenting that the bar of discourse is lower than any Jamaican limbo stick is nothing revolutionary; no more than revolutions themselves anyway. Similarly, calling politicians childish does a grave disservice to the relatively wholesome, or at least banal, insults wielded by actual children. As if it’s a national requirement, campaigns bring out the vapid and sordid efforts of far too many. This tragedy is trumped only by the fact that the worst smears, attacks and lies stick on and sink newcomers and incumbents more times than not, and certainly enough times to make the whole industry of negative campaigning regrettably profitable.

The sheer volume of political gunk is too much to wade through, so in a two-turn twist I’d like to run down the most incredible insults leveled at U.S. Presidents—outside of the campaign trail—by their contemporary critics.

5. Clinton: Murderer?

I’m breaking a personal rule, I know, to tread into the 1990s in a history-oriented post. However, this (first?) Clinton Administration gem is too stunningly ridiculous to pass up in the field of presidential criticisms. Basically, Clintonophobia was the over-arching sense of conservative America feeling President Bill Clinton was not a legitament president because he only won 43% of the vote in 1992, when Republican George Bush had 37% and Ross Perot won 18%--all Perot's supporters theoretically lifted from would-be Bush voters. Regardless, Clinton had arguably unprecedented scrutiny from the moment he finished his Election Night acceptance speech—not helped by the rise in political/editorialized/hackneyed journalism.

The subculture pandering reached a, just flatly silly, low-point when the “Clinton Body Count” started circling journals, websites and early emails. As "investigated," upwards of 40 people died "mysteriously" after having some kind of "connection" with "President" Bill Clinton. Like a political dog-whistle, a bunch of weirdos understood that obviously, or at least possibly, Clinton was having dozens of people whacked in connections with various cover-ups more heinous than U2 spy planes, Watergate or Iran-Contra. Paradoxically, the same people that accused Clinton of orchestrating the most colossal, continuous government/media conspiracy of all-time also accused the President of being ineffectual, incapable and lacking any semblance of political fortitude or mental ability. What I really like best about the Clinton Body Count is the “24”-esque villainy required and how every Drudge reader got to feel like Jack Bauer in a pre-Jack Bauer world.

4. Reagan: Antichrist?

Time and time and time again, the world has shown that the worst thing predictors can do is bet on the San Diego Chargers. The second worst thing they can do is make a prediction with a very specific time-frame. Saying “the world will end” is fair…even obvious. At worst, you won’t be proven wrong. Saying “the world will end this Saturday” makes you look like a moron on Sunday. The exact same carries over for fanatics who predict/hope for the events described in the Bible’s Revelations.

I’m not sure how many people actually believed President Reagan was the Antichrist but even noting “there are a lot of coincidences” is really dumb. His name translates into 666, but so what, that takes a lot of effort to get to that point. Finding coincidences is like cleaning your apartment: it takes effort and time—also, people might like the results, but they don’t really want to help. For Reagan, I don't imagine there were any apologies when the man left office. And while most Republicans were disappointed to see him go, there were also Apocalypse-wishers disappointed that he didn't go out by raining down fire and blood.

As a peculiar epitaph, the term “Antichrist” does not appear in Revelations at all, but rather just the term “the Beast.” I chose to use “Antichrist” in this post because another President--coming up soon!--was commonly referred to as an actual beast and I did not want there to be any stupid, stupid confusion.

3. FDR: Kidnapper?

Franklin D. Roosevelt did as much to expand the powers of the Executive Branch during the 20th Century as any President not named Roosevelt. Obviously, then the man had his share of Depression Era critics—mostly rich people who thought FDR had betrayed them, himself a rich man. Appropriately, and healthily, people questioned his policies. Less appropriately, and far less healthily, people also questioned FDR’s ability to cognitively function. Rumors ran rampant that the President would have unprovoked bursts of laughter and spontaneously talk incoherently. In typical crazy-fashion, the leader of the free world also—again, rumors here—cut paper dolls and required so many psychiatrists that they had to dress like White House servants to quells suspicions. Other even more fantastical accusations included that bars were placed on the White House windows to keep Roosevelt from escaping and that the President was frequently substituted for a look-a-like in some kind "Dave"-type cover up--an accusation that entertained less people than "Dave."

It’s actually rather stupefying that the press so famously refrained from publicizing the President’s, very real, crippling polio condition yet felt free enough to circulate a story that FDR stole stamps from a stamp collector who was visiting the White House. My favorite attack on FDR though has to be nonsensical conspiracy that the man actually orchestrated the kidnapping and death of the Lindbergh baby.

"Great Harding's Ghost, Batman! How will you stop The Penguin this week!?"

2. George Washington: Traitor?

There are a lot people that could be called “traitors” to the United States in our wacky, wacky history. But the first President? The hero of the Revolutionary War? The man who not only brought delegates together to draft the Constitution but than sacrificed all the power he could want when they made him de facto King of America? Incredible as it is to believe, this country did not collectively finish one complete presidential term before lambasting the nation’s leadership and literally requesting Washington’s impeachment, resignation and hanging (in no particular order).

Modern critics have looked back and drafted modern criticism on Washington’s legacy, such as he was a gold-digger, opportunist, lucky gambler, indecisive, racist, atheist, and socialite. However, “traitor to the nation” is one label that has not been resurrected despite its prevalence in the 1790s. Most of the “kingly” insults stemmed from people not remotely agreeing what a President was supposed to be like. “Look at him,” cried critics, “He’s receiving visitors at the Executive Mansion like some kind of king!” “There he goes again, making a speech, like a king!” “What kind of tyrant holds social gatherings while real American are working to feed their families!?!” It would be quite the alternative history if Washington had listened to his critics and just hid behind a title of nothingness like some kind of executive producer for The Simpsons.

1. Lincoln: Monster?

No matter what Abraham Lincoln tried to do for four years, it seemed like half the country hated him. Some called him “tyrannical” and “dumb”—which is standard and uninspired. Other editorials stretched a bit more and called him a drunkard, a smoker and a profanity-laced imbecile with no original thoughts. That the man never really drank, smoked or swore was a moot point to his critics. Also, there was The Baltimore Plot and how Lincoln supposedly dressed like a woman to flee his critics. Others, still, openly derided such iconic speeches as The Gettysburg Address and his Second Inaugural Address as empty platitudes, political gibberish or indistinguishable from the soiled toilet paper still stuck to Lincoln's shoe during either speech.

This all though is bested by the incredibly frequent accusations questioning Lincoln’s humanity—not his cruelty, but his actual genetic makeup in an era before common genetic knowledge. Within critical circles, aggravators could not agree if Lincoln was half-baboon or perhaps some other, barely understood creature. Half gorilla? Half ape? Certainly he was some kind of beast with coarse, untamed facial hair marginally masking a face that could neither be properly painted nor described by words. Newspapers calling the Commander in Chief, during wartime, a “zoological curiosity” were devastatingly cruel, unless they somehow meant it as a compliment. Reportedly—and by that I mean “completely bullshit-edly”--, President Lincoln laughed, danced and clapped like an unrestrained monkey when visiting the blood-soaked battlefield at Antietam. These were not clever insults, they were just some unholy mixture of appalling, pointless and ridiculous.

In all these cases, from Reagan being the Antichrist to a psychopathic Lincoln, I think the accusers wanted the accusations to be true—not just because it would validate their voting preferences but because it would necessitate a societal restructuring; and such a restructuring would assuredly benefit those to saw the writing on the proverbial wall. If we were wrong once, how can we ever be sure we were right about anything? We rack our brains to twist the world around us in an effort to validate our perceptions. Thus traces our own sense vanity; most of us are not patriotic or noble, but rather we just want to be right. And that's just wrong.