The director of Atomic Homefront calls her documentary “the feel-bad movie of the year.” That’s how Rebecca Camissa described it at a special advance showing last night in St. Louis, and she wasn’t kidding. The movie chronicles the sad and infuriating story of people who live near the Bridgeton West Lake Landfill in a northern St. Louis suburb, where, underground, a smoldering garbage fire is metastasizing, creeping ominously close to radioactive waste dumped nearby in the 1970s and 80s.

It’s a difficult story to tell for several reasons. First, to understand the current situation, you have to delve into a complicated history that starts in the 1940s, when a St. Louis chemical company was commissioned to dispose of radioactive waste generated by the creation of the atomic bomb. The waste was transported [often in open, spewing truck beds] and dumped in several locations, mixed with soil, then dug up and moved again. The routes and the amounts were kept secret for many years. It was only decades later, when a local resident began to realize that many of her school classmates, who lived in areas near the landfill, had developed cancer, that people in the area began to wonder what was going on.

In addition, the personal stories of cancer victims make this an emotionally difficult film. Several people featured in the film’s most poignant scenes have subsequently died, and others are still mourning friends and family. They contend that the cancer and the presence of radioactive waste—not just in the landfill but also in Coldwater Creek, where many children played [and still do]—are linked. It is very tough to watch, but a necessary piece of the narrative.

Atomic Homefront also arouses anger. The film follows a group of concerned citizens, known as Just Moms STL. Spurred to action by the problem in their own neighborhood, they juggle family responsibilities with strategy sessions, activist training, community forums and meetings with government officials. In one segment, we see Dawn Chapman, one of the initiators of Just Moms STL, sweeping her kitchen floor while talking on the phone with a state legislator. It is an authentic, un-glamorous, un-staged, everyday moment in the life of someone who never envisioned herself as an activist. [The contrast with filmmaker Michael Moore’s phony, ambush encounters in his films is stark.]

It’s the meetings with government officials that really make your blood boil. Time after time, officials from agencies, ostensibly charged with protecting the environment,deny that a problem exists, make excuses, offer empty promises and become suddenly unavailable when Just Moms STL leaders show up at their offices.

We see several situations in which officials deliver, with a straight face, absurd statements that are totally divorced from reality. One representative of the US Environmental Protection Agency presents what he calls “a simplified equation of the effects of radiation,” which, when displayed, turns out to be anything but simple, prompting derisive laughter from the audience. In another instance, an EPA official says that the landfill is safe, and that the fire will “self-extinguish.” A representative of the US Army Corps of Engineers states that the agency doesn’t think it is necessary to put up health-warning signs along Coldwater Creek. A manager of the smoldering, acrid-smelling landfill tells a Just Moms activist that the stench is “landfill perfume.”

The film also captures the powerful moment when community residents, previously unaware of the smoldering landfill and the nearby radioactive waste, receive notices from the local school district about a newly created emergency plan, which would be activated “in case of a radioactive event at the landfill.” Taken completely by surprise, they justifiably fear for their children and turn out in droves to a hastily convened community meeting. In one jaw-dropping scene from the meeting, a woman addresses the crowd, demanding action as she reveals that she moved to the area 20 years earlier—from Chernobyl—to save her children, only to find out that she is now living in another highly toxic neighborhood.

Atomic Homefront creates an admirable balance among four key aspects of the Bridgeton Landfill story: history, human impact, local activism, and government response. I found a few stylistic choices to quibble about: It spends a bit too much time on mood-setting; it includes too much un-narrated and visually unappealing exposition. But I applaud the director’s effort to tackle this complex subject and to get it right for the people who have worked so hard to get justice and push for a remedy.

Unfortunately, you can’t leave this film feeling much hope. In the credits, Camissa offers a list of too many elected officials and agency representatives who did not agree to appear in the film. Their absence is a sad commentary on government responsiveness. And keep in mind that the film ends in November 2016, just after the election of Donald Trump. If you think the Obama-era officials who stonewalled and delayed action during the three years covered in this film were bad, remember that the new head of EPA is Scott Pruitt, an avowed anti-environmental zealot who is dismantling the agency’s mission as you read this article. You can’t help but feel bad for Dawn Chapman, Just Moms STL, and the people living in the neighborhood.

[Atomic Homefront received funding from HBO and is scheduled to appear on that network later in 2017 or early in 2018.]

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The newly released movie Moonlight is a very quiet film with a powerful impact. It’s absorbing, thought-provoking and emotionally exhausting, with performances that are breathtaking. But I wonder if anyone is going to go to see it. The 16-screen theater where we saw it this afternoon offered only one showing—at 3:30—in a dine-in screening room that seated only 50 people.

If that limited availability is typical, it’s very unfortunate, because Moonlight should be on everyone’s watch list.

The story follows the main character, Chiron, from his childhood years in a struggling African-American neighborhood in Miami, through high school and young adulthood. He’s a quiet [almost completely silent, actually]  kid—ignored by his drug-addicted mother, bullied by his neighbors and classmates, and mentored—for a time—by a drug dealer who has retained a sense of decency. We follow Chiron as he grows up, with the three stages of his life portrayed by three different actors [each of whom gives a stunning performance.] It’s a heartbreaking story.

But beyond summarizing the plot, it’s almost impossible to describe this movie. Unlike many of the formulaic movies that draw big box office returns, Moonlight does not fit well into a single category.

It’s not a “black” movie—although all of its characters are African-Americans, its setting is a black community in Miami, and there’s a lot of vernacular that this aging white lady in a suburban bubble doesn’t usually hear. Unfortunately, AMC Theatres apparently thinks it is, indeed, a “black” movie. How do I know? Because 4 out of 5 of the previews that precede it are movies featuring predominantly black actors. That categorization does this movie—and all audiences—a disservice. “Moonlight” focuses on black characters, but tells a story that is far broader.

It’s also not just a “coming out” or “gay” movie, although the main character is bullied, as a child and throughout middle- and high-school, by others who call him a “faggot.” It takes him years to discover who he is, and even more years to accept and act on that aspect of his identity.

Nor is it a “love story,” in the conventional sense. You could say that Chiron eventually learns to accept himself, and discovers that he is capable of loving someone else, and saying so out loud. But you don’t get that until very late in his story—and the future of that self-actualization is not certain.

I can’t comment on the verisimilitude of the story and the characters, because I’ve lived a completely different—privileged, protected, insulated—life. But I don’t think you need to have lived Chiron’s life to appreciate the damaging effect that parental rejection and cultural ostracism can have on a person, regardless of skin color, culture, socio-economic circumstances, neighborhood or other factors. Chiron is oppressed—for reasons he doesn’t understand and can’t control—and repressed as a result. His is not just “black” suffering, it is human pain.

I don’t know what else to say. I’m sure there’s a lot that I missed and didn’t understand because of who I am. But that didn’t stop me from aching for Chiron as a human being.

The Hollywood establishment has believed, for essentially its entire history, that “nobody” [meaning, of course, white people] will go to movies with African-Americans in lead roles. Please seek out this remarkable film—primarily because it’s just a damn good movie—and, as a by-product, to prove them wrong.

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The 1992 movie “Bob Roberts” offers an uncannily prescient, satirical look at a candidacy much like Donald Trump’s.

Written, directed by and starring Tim Robbins, “Bob Roberts” is a mock-umentary about an ultra-conservative millionaire businessman—who’s also a folksinger—who  runs for the U.S. Senate in Pennsylvania. He is supported by fanatic followers. He spouts a xenophobic, America-first, me-first, all-about-the-money philosophy. His followers exhibit some very weird, cult-like behaviors, and are routinely violent against people protesting his candidacy. He even hosts a a beauty pageant–and sings the theme song “She’s a Beautiful Girl.”

I had seen this film before, but I couldn’t have known at the time that it would be the script for the Trump campaign. This time around, I was floored by the jaw-dropping parallels. The one big difference is that, in “Bob Roberts,” the media is openly disgusted by his campaign. They do chase around after him in a Trump-like frenzy, but they’re not fawning–more like ogling.

This is a really good movie—its production values, acting and dialogue hold up very well 26 years later. As you watch it, you’ll recognize members of the supporting cast as younger versions of actors who are better known today. You’ll be name-checking all the way through the movie. [Teaser: One of the out-of-control Roberts fanboys is played by a very young Jack Black.]

Also, the folk songs that Roberts uses to promote his philosophy are hilarious. [Tim Robbins wrote them and performs them—straight-faced– as well.] As Roberts, Tim Robbins does a right-wing version of Bob Dylan’s famous “Subterranean Homesick Blues” video, in which key words are hand-written on cue cards that he drops as the soundtrack plays. In another perverse homage to Dylan, he leads swaying, adoring fans and a church choir in an anthem called “ Times Are Changin’…Back.”  He even steals from Woody Guthrie in a song called “This Land Was Made for ME.”  It’s worth your while to listen closely to the lyrics of the Bob Roberts songs, and not simply dismiss them as soundtrack, background music.

“Bob Roberts” didn’t get the attention it deserved when it was first released–probably because it seemed too wacky and improbable. Unfortunately, reality has now caught up with it.

Here’s the trailer:

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Stephen Sondheim’s “Follies,” first produced on Broadway in 1971, and not seen much since, still has relevance–especially in the era of HIllary Clinton’s run for President. I saw a wonderful revival of this very clever show last night at the St. Louis Repertory Theatre, and  it got me thinking about what it says about the human experience–particularly that of women. .

The story line of “Follies” is built around a reunion of the aging actors and dancers who appeared in a Ziefield-Follies-like stage revue from the early 1900s through mid-century. They get together in the theatre where they once performed, which is about to be torn down and replaced with a parking lot. The now middle-aged [and beyond] players reminisce, recreate some of their favorite numbers, and ponder the life choices they’ve made. Their younger selves shadow them as memories, reminding them of how they once saw themselves and their futures.

It’s mostly about the women: the compromises they made, the pain they endured, the relationships they stuck with, even when they knew they were being betrayed [and, in some cases doing the betraying themselves]. And, of course, the word “follies” refers both to the genre of those old-time stage shows and to the follies of the characters’ lives.

The “boys” were the hangers-on in this story. They weren’t performers in the show, or even stagehands. They were stage-door Johnnies, waiting to take the girls on the town after the shows—in a role reversal from what we usually see. They see the “Beautiful Girls” celebrated in one of the show’s songs as trophies to be attained—not relationships to be nurtured. The show focuses on two marriages that emerged from those stage-door romances.

The “boys” seem successful and happy, at first. But they slowly reveal their disappointments–mostly in themselves, and the remorse they feel for some of their ill-advised choices.

But it’s the “girls'” revelations that really get to you. They gave up their career ambitions for the kind of husband-centered marriage that was expected. They waited at home for their often unfaithful husbands to return. They put off having children until it was too late. They tolerated their husbands’ neglect and basked in their fame and successes.

So, what does all of this have to do with Hillary Clinton? [Yes, I tend to politicize everything.] The obvious connection is, of course, the way things have changed for many women. I think a lot of the mostly older people—especially the women—in the audience saw some of their own lives up there on stage. There were a lot of women for a lot of years who didn’t have career ambitions beyond marriage and motherhood [a noble profession, in my opinion, by the way]. But there were many who wished for other things, too.  Some started adulthood accepting traditional expectations and grew, in later years, to seek opportunities for the public accomplishments and earning power previously reserved for men.

Hillary Clinton’s experience has been a hybrid of the two worlds, and in my view, she has navigated her way extremely well. [Younger women who are not aware of her early years as an activist and her long track record of advocating for women and children should read up a bit, or watch CNN’s documentary, “The Essential Hillary Clinton.]

One of the characters in “Follies” recounts her life through a song called “I’m Still Here.” With altered lyrics, it could be Hillary’s anthem—as well as that of many other women.

Hillary Clinton took on non-traditional professional and public roles, and endured obviously sexist criticism from all sides, and she’s still here. She navigated extremely difficult times in her marriage—and she’s still here. And she continues to stand tall in the face of an unfriendly press and, of course, the outrageous meanness of the Republican party and its misogynistic standard-bearer, Donald Trump: and she’s still here. Most recently, she caught a case of pneumonia and still managed to show up at the 9/11 memorial program—and she’s still here. What more can we ask of here, for pete sake?

I do wonder though,  if sitting next to her younger self as the characters in “Follies” do, she would feel nostalgia for the unbridled idealism and successes of her youth, or feel regrets about some of the choices she had to make or paths she opted to follow.

Recently, in two interviews with Humans of New York, Clinton spoke candidly about the sexism she faced in her early professional life, and about how she found herself building a protective wall around her emotions.

We all have regrets, don’t we? I’d be surprised if Clinton doesn’t. But we probably won’t hear about them, if they exist, for many years to come: Admitting to such feelings would be seized upon in the political realm as a sign of weakness, I fear.

I just hope that, in the end, she is able to do something that no other woman has done and becomes President of the US. I think we’ll all have regrets and remorse if she doesn’t.

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I’ll admit, most terrorism/spy/war/national defense movies of the past decade anger me for a dozen or so different reasons, not the least of which is because they frequently draw on Islamophobia, xenophobia, racism, fear-mongering, misogyny, etc. to advance their messages (that sounds rather like a certain political candidate we know, doesn’t it?). But London Has Fallen goes beyond the pale to be exceedingly irksome.

The movie was released earlier this year and stars Gerard Butler as Mike Banning, a Secret Service agent, protecting President Benjamin Asher (played by Aaron Eckhart). It takes place during a massive terror campaign in London waged by Pakistani arms dealer and terrorist ringleader Aamir Barkawi (Alon Moni Aboutboul).  Back in the United States, Vice President Allan Trumbull (Morgan Freeman) runs the White House to try to extract Banning and Asher from the war zone that is now London.

The movie begins with Barkawi’s daughter’s wedding, where an American spy informs the US intelligence community that Barkawi is present at the ceremony (alongside hundreds of innocent civilian wedding guests), leading the US to launch a drone strike against the wedding party to kill Barkawi and his family. Barkawi does not die in the strike, however, and over the next two years begins to plan his revenge and gather recruits. He begins his retributive terror campaign by assassinating the British Prime Minister to force the leaders of the Western world to arrive in London and then proceeds to bomb, shoot, and bludgeon all but President Asher to a most violent death. Asher escapes purely as a result of Banning’s cunning and the foolhardy mistakes of his terrorist adversaries. By the end of the movie, naturally, the Americans live (while the British, French, Italian, Japanese, and numerous other delegations and respective security details all die) and Banning kills Barkawi, single-handedly, bringing down the entire terrorist network.

How I abhor it? Let me count the ways.

First, and this isn’t sociopolitical at all: Gerard Butler’s character is insufferable. He is an unrepentant, pretentious, uber-aggressive, unlikeable jerk face twit of a bossypants, and I could not stand him. He insinuates himself into a leadership position in every situation, insulting and battering his way to the top, even when he has no claim to command. His disagreeableness had me grimacing through most of the movie, although that could also be attributed to almost everything else about it.

Two:  the entire movie is American Exceptionalism at its finest. There is the obvious glorification of America and Americans as better than everyone else when this one secret service agent outsmarts the hundreds of terrorists who, by the way, succeeded in killing every single other protection detail. Gerard Butler alone kills upwards of 40 terrorists by knifing or shooting them and then blows up another 50 plus terrorists, but none of the hundreds of brown terrorists even scratch him. He leaves the entire debacle unscathed. American Exceptionalism also asserts itself in the sense that the scope of the movie narrows from the mass attacks that shake London and the world to merely protecting two Americans, which really goes to show the American disposition about world affairs.

Three, Muslim terrorists AGAIN. I could almost get over this point because I know that’s just how the national psyche works. and radical ISIS-like terrorists sells right now in Hollywood, but in London Has Fallen that devolves into xenophobic blanket statements. Case in point: When Banning screams at Barkawi over the walkie-talkie of Barkawi’s now-tortured and dead son: “Why don’t you go back to Fuck-head-istan or wherever you’re from?!” Allow me to enlighten you, Mr. Banning, no such place as “Fuck-head-istan” exists. I mean there’s Kazakhstan, Tajikistan, Uzbekistan, Kyrgyzstan, Turkmenistan, Afghanistan, and Pakistan… but no “Fuck-head.” How curious. And even if “Fuck-head-istan” did exist, all of the “stan”s are incredibly different from one another, so “wherever you’re from” as a grouping for a wide variety of Central and South Asian countries sounds a bit haphazard and indiscriminate, wouldn’t you say? I will also add that although you continue to refer to Pakistani and “Fuck-head-istani” terrorists as Arab, Central/South Asians are not Arabs.

Also, the “Pakistanis” in the movie aren’t Pakistani, they just used random Brown people. The actor who plays Barkawi, the head antagonist, is Israeli; another is Belgian-Tunisian, French-Tunisian, Indian, etc. Not Pakistani. Actually, they don’t even use Pakistani names or places in the film. That just serves to further the idea that all Brown/Muslim/Arab people are interchangeable and Hollywood. and/or Americans have no need to draw lines of difference between anyone in that very diverse group. Which is reprehensible and obnoxious. Maybe it’s just because they couldn’t find “Fuck-head-istan” on the map.

The idea of making the Brown terrorists faceless semi-humans is furthered by the absolute lack of remorse for the civilians killed in the drone strike in Pakistan. A small modicum of regret shines through when President Asher realizes Barkawi is bent on avenging his family because of an American slaughter. But Banning dissuades Asher of the idea that Asher has any responsibility or should feel any guilt for what is happening, although they both continue to consider the devastation of London a travesty.

Basically, the premise of the film is that Americans bombed innocent civilians in shopping malls and weddings for the sake of killing one target, and Barkawi turns around and does the exact same thing in London. But the Westerners don’t even attempt to understand that senseless retributive violence, preferring to continuously and constantly dismiss it as “insanity.” When Americans do it, it’s justice and national security; when terrorists do it, it’s murder and insane.

Number seven: I can almost understand– almost– the unrepentant, unhesitating murder of every terrorist Banning sees, but there is no regard for the innocent civilian casualties in London either. Which is particularly telling considering that’s what got you in this mess to begin with.

Eight: lack of regard for human life isn’t just an accidental side effect, but a welcomed and encouraged trait fostered in “the good guys.” When one of the main terrorist organizers in London hesitates a moment to behead President Asher live on television, the film paints it as a sign of weakness. When Banning tortures a terrorist he has already shot for the sake of torturing a man and makes his brother listen to the torture, it is a quality of his good character, strength, and adept skills as a Secret Service Agent.

Nine: At the end of the movie, the answer to the problem created by a drone strike is “solved” by a drone strike, when America finally succeeds in bombing Barkawi. Vice President Trumbull announces that “There are those who say that none of this would have happened if we just minded our own business. [They are wrong.] We owe it to our children and grandchildren to engage with the world.” I’m not sure that bombing, slaughtering, and destroying is quite what most people have in mind when they say “engage,” but I’m not a politician, so what do I know?

Finally, this movie is an explosion of testosterone-fueled aggression and most certainly does not pass the Bechdel Test. Although there are two named women in the movie, they never talk to one another because one dies in the first half hour of the film. and the other doesn’t appear until the last half hour of the film.

And so we have a gory, bloody, xenophobic, American-Exceptionalism-fueled, testosterone-laden, misogynistic, bomb-toting, unrepentantly civilian-slaughtering showdown of a film that was awful from beginning to end. Thumbs down.

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Should I recommend Michael Moore’s 2016 movie,” Where to Invade Next”? On the plus side, there are some really good jokes.  The biggest laugh came when Moore asked someone whose alphabet does not include the letter “W” if they dropped the letter during the last Bush administration.

No doubt Moore is really good at a certain kind of humor.  The movie is also worth watching just to see parts of other countries we probably wouldn’t normally get to visit.  For example, a prison on an island in Denmark.  Or the office of the president of Slovenia.  Or the balcony of an Italian couple overlooking a lovely village.

The downside of the experience is the shock of realizing how brutal our American culture is compared to more evolved societies.

Moore visited a young Italian couple to find out what kind of vacation time Italian workers enjoy.  He is a police officer.  She is a buyer for a women’s clothing firm.  They described their summer vacation, their December holiday getaway, and the extra pay they receive in December to enjoy their time off work.  The reasoning is that the workers have to spend the money they earn all year on living expenses which doesn’t leave them anything to pay for a holiday vacation.

Seriously.  I’m not making this up.  By law, all Italian workers receive several weeks of paid vacation each year because they need time to nurture their minds, bodies and family connections.  Healthier workers are more productive, and families that enjoy relaxed time together are much less likely to fall apart.

This same attitude toward the importance of a healthy lifestyle was evident in two other countries Moore visited.  He wanted to see the inside of a factory and talk to the CEO’s.  At noon, a whistle blows and the workers go home for a two hour lunch with family.  Again, it’s the family connections that are so important.  The workers return to work refreshed and, usually, in a good mood.

Workers are appreciated and given benefits even beyond what is required by law.  Moore interviewed the CEO’s of a factory that makes motorbikes.  The man and his two sisters own and run the company.  They think of the workers as their friends, and  because everyone wants the company to succeed, workers feel free to offer suggestions if they think of a better or faster way to get the job done.

Moore asked why the owners don’t pay themselves more like the CEO’s in America.   One of the women answered:  “What’s the point of being richer?”   She said keeping too much wealth for themselves would put a barrier between them and the workers who are their friends.

In one of the countries, it is mandated that half of the seats on company boards must be held by workers.  Not just a token seat, but half.  And they are listened to and respected.   Workers who have a vested interest in the success of a company will be more productive and enjoy better health in the long run.

Focusing on well-being

In all of the interviews Moore conducted, the main goal in each case seems to be the health and well-being of the people.

And it starts with babies and children.  In one country, Moore discovered that women who give birth receive five months paid leave to bond with their babies.  One new mother asked Moore how women in America can bond with their babies if they are not with them for those first important months.  He didn’t have an answer.

When those babies are old enough to go to school, they will be fed nutritious food and given plenty of time to build relationships with other children.

Of course France was the highlight of the school lunchroom tours.  Children have plenty of time for lunch and are served at round tables on real china with real silverware.  No Styrofoam plates or plastic forks and spoons.

Food is prepared by a chef with the help of several cooks.  A food committee meets once a month to plan the next month’s menus. The goal is fresh, healthy food, plenty of water, and time for the children to develop relationships with each other.  Lunch time is considered to be another class where students learn to eat right and share food family style.  Sharing and bonding with others seems to be at the heart of most of what Michael Moore saw in Europe.

Moore showed the French children photos of what American children are served as school lunches, and the kids were confused.  They didn’t recognize what they saw as food.  One child asked if American children really had to eat what they saw in those photos.  The general feeling was sympathy if not shock.

Finland is recognized worldwide as offering the best opportunity for children to learn and grow into healthy, well-adjusted adults.  It wasn’t always that way.  When Finnish educators reworked their public education system, they  focused on creating happy, healthy productive adults.  Students attend classes only twenty hours a week, but the time is spent productively with the kids choosing how they want to learn.  There are no standardized tests.  In fact, when Moore asked the teachers what they would change about American education, they were adamant about getting rid of standardized tests.  They said children don’t really learn anything by memorizing facts that they will forget immediately because they have no connection to the students’ lives.  Learning experiences are actual experiences that leave an imprint on the brain.

Moore visited classrooms where students were building things, learning to cook, and playing games.  Yes, “playing” is considered part of the curriculum.  Again, the emphasis is on developing relationships and learning to care about others.  Admittedly, this is much easier in a country with a smaller, fairly homogenous population.  But what a great concept…… producing happy, healthy adults with the skills and knowledge they need to succeed personally and contribute something to society.

In Slovenia, Moore visited a university where tuition is free with open admissions and the classes are taught in English.  Students from the U.S. are finding out about this free education and transferring there.  One American young woman said she couldn’t even afford to go to community college in the U.S.  Another American student said he already had $9,000 in debt and didn’t want to add to that.  Moore asked the Slovenian students what kind of debt they had, and the students had to ask someone to explain the word “debt” to them.

Prisons

First off, there is no death penalty in European countries, and they asked what we think we accomplish by executing people.  In Denmark, there is one prison that is on an island and every inmate has a job to keep the operation running.  Their “cells” are small rooms such as we would see in an old-fashioned college dormitory complete with private shower and flat-screen TV.  Each resident has the only key to his room.  There is enough space for shelves where they can keep their books and other personal belongings.  The longest sentence in Denmark is 21 years.

Moore visited the father of one of the teenagers who was murdered a few years ago in that horrible killing spree at a youth camp on an island.  Moore asked the grieving parent if he would want the killer of his son to be executed.  The man immediately said no.  Moore asked if he didn’t want to kill the man himself.  He answered that he wouldn’t want to “go down that ladder” and become like that murderer.  He respected himself too much to want to kill someone, even the man who murdered his son.   That murderer received the harshest penalty of 21 years in prison with 10 of those in solitary confinement.  What that means in Denmark is probably not what we picture as solitary confinement in the U.S.  The Danes feel that keeping someone from their family and even from other prisoners is punishment enough.

The Portuguese decriminalized all drugs and provide readily available mental health services for addicts wishing to quit.  There are no drug gangs because there is no profit to be made by selling illegal drugs.

The only country outside of Europe that Moore visited was Tunisia in northern Africa. The Tunisian women were instrumental in overthrowing the last dictator and establishing a representative government. In a Muslim country, the Islamic political leaders stepped down voluntarily when they saw the people were serious about wanting more power over their lives.

Financial systems

Moore’s final stop was in Iceland which suffered the collapse of most of its biggest banks in the 2008-2009 meltdown.  The men who ran those banks into the ground and lost millions of other people’s money were tried, convicted and sent to prison.  What a concept !  The only bank that didn’t collapse was one run by three women.  Moore interviewed those women and asked why their bank was immune.

The answer will probably not be surprising to female readers of this little movie review.  The female bankers did not feel the pressure to outsmart each other in order to achieve “top dog” status.  They said that men are too concerned with power and their “rank” among their male peers.  Women don’t have the hormonal drive to be the richest, most important “king of the hill.”  They value and want to achieve success, of course, but not necessarily at the expense of their customers or clients.  Banking and investing is not a game to them.

When the movie ended, we were asked if we had any comments.  There was so much to think about that we needed time to digest what we had seen.

Some noted that we definitely need more women in positions of authority.   Others said what most of us were thinking.  The United States of America has not evolved as much as some countries have in terms of reaching a more just, humane, and nurturing society.

Michael Moore showed scenes from some American jails where men, mostly black men, were being treated worse than most of us would treat a wild animal.   I couldn’t help turning away from those scenes.  Why have we allowed the “law enforcement” and “correctional” systems to become so dehumanizing?

Moore believes that white, privileged Americans with the power to do it, reacted to the civil rights protests and, particularly, to the militant Black Power groups, with the purposeful objective of  destroying black families with illegal drugs.  The vehicle?  Crack cocaine.  I vaguely remember something about the CIA bringing drugs back from Central America, selling it and buying weapons for the Nicaraguan Contras.  How much of that is true, I don’t know.  But, if someone wanted to tear apart a community, encouraging gang wars would certainly be a good place to start.

And was it just a coincidence that, when women were pushing to add an Equal Rights Amendment to the U.S. Constitution, the reproductive rights issue surfaced?  Roe v Wade was in 1973.  The ERA fell short of ratification by three states.  The anti-abortion issue has been front and center ever since. I doubt that most men in positions of power back then cared one way or another about abortion, but they realized they could use that issue to convince voters to send them to Congress and state legislatures where they could push their free market, anti-tax agenda.

What’s the matter with America?

Thomas Frank spelled this out in “What’s the Matter with Kansas” years ago.  People will vote against their own interest and that of their families when they are stirred up emotionally about a particular issue.

We’ve been electing anyone who promises to lower our taxes which ultimately means weaker and weaker bonds that hold us together.  While we are arguing over having to pay too much for governmental services and screaming about “big government” taking away our freedoms, our lives are becoming meaner and less secure.

It’s not just about rebuilding our infrastructure although we are decades behind more developed countries in that regard.  And it’s not just about the good paying jobs that rebuilding creates.  It’s about whether we are a society that takes care of ourselves and our neighbors or not.  Do we really want an “every man for himself, dog eat dog” society?  Isn’t that what we supposedly left behind when we established a representative government with the goal of minding the “general welfare”?  Michael Moore told folks in Europe that “welfare” is a dirty word in the U. S.  They were shocked.

We could have the same level of civilized society as most European nations  if we paid more in taxes.  But we’ve trapped ourselves into believing we shouldn’t pay a penny more in taxes than we absolutely must.  And millionaires can stash their wealth in other countries without penalty.

The movie included a graphic showing the level of taxes we Americans pay and the much higher level that Europeans pay.  But then the costs we bear were added to the U.S. column, and it jumped to the top of the screen.  We don’t think about how much we pay for health care, education (especially post-secondary) or other things that are included in the European tax system.  If we paid our schools enough to offer healthy food and if women could stay home and bond with their babies and workers were given enough time off to take care of their health and happiness, what a different society we would have.

Americans are proud of the myth of “rugged individualism.”  We reward success and appreciate incredible talent.  That’s all well and good.  But we have also evolved to the point where we know that we are all better off when no one is left behind.  The Progressive Era in the early 1900’s was one of those periods.  We instituted the income tax and gave women the right to vote.  We gave government the responsibility of protecting our food supply.  We established the Federal Reserve System to avoid financial chaos.

The Great Depression showed us that we needed to take better care of our most vulnerable citizens including the elderly, orphans and the handicapped.   After another period of stepping back to digest the changes, we pushed ahead again in the 60’s and 70’s for more civil rights, a cleaner environment and subsidized health care for senior citizens.

We were due for the next progressive era in the 1980’s or 1990’s, but it didn’t come.  Why?  One reason was the well-organized and well-financed strategic plan by free market Republicans to infiltrate the various levels of political power and take the reins of government at the highest level.  I refer anyone who wants to read the outline of their plan to look up the Powell Memorandum online.

As we become more and more selfish as a society, we also increase the fear  that someone will take away what belongs to us.  As we become more afraid of each other, we become more prone to violence against others and ourselves.  The suicide rate among middle aged Americans increases every year.  These are people who used to be comfortably middle class, but the rug was pulled out from under them by the “Great Recession” and subsequent changes in the job market and economy.   We’ve always known that the rich get richer and the poor get poorer, but it’s not just a truism anymore.  It’s dangerous to the point of lethality.

Donald Trump is the grotesque end result of decades of well-organized, well-funded propaganda that has convinced us to take care of “number one” and to hell with everyone else.  We want and need scapegoats because we realize we can never make up what we’ve lost financially.  We feel helpless as the rich and powerful suck more and more life out of our sense of self-worth.

Climate change deniers control Congress while we suffer the consequences of the decades we’ve lost when we could have been building a healthier energy system. What happened to the 1970’s push to save Mother Earth?

What happened to “no more war”?  And the right of women to control their own bodies?  And the Montessori system of educating children as individuals instead of as cogs in a machine?   What happened to the movement to include the history of women, African-Americans and Native Americans in our textbooks?  Have we really ever come to grips with the sins of our fathers?  In Germany, children are taught about the Nazis, the Holocaust, the personal horror suffered by Jews, homosexuals, Gypsies and other targeted groups.  The names of those who died in concentration camps are embedded in the city sidewalks so they can never be dismissed or forgotten.

How have we allowed ourselves to be trapped in this tea party nightmare?  Some speculate that Trump will lose badly, the Democrats will gain control of Congress and our long national nightmare will be over.  Sen. Bernie Sanders and his legions of supporters have pushed the Democratic Party to include more progressive ideas in the party platform.  They plan on attending the Democratic Convention in Philadelphia to make sure their demands are met.  Is this the beginning of the next Progressive Era?  Does Bernie’s “revolution” start soon?  There are signs that the tide is turning (recent Supreme Court decisions, the “sit in” by House Democrats  for gun violence legislation, the anti-Trump coalition of different ethnic groups.)

The main editorial in the St. Louis Post-Dispatch on July 4, 2016 is about Thomas Jefferson’s belief that we all owe a “debt of service” to our nation.  This is something to think about as we celebrate on the 240^th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence.   We may never reach the level of concern for our fellow citizens that the Europeans have developed, but we certainly can make life safer and healthier for everyone living within our borders

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The political documentary, “Weiner,” will probably make you cringe, but not necessarily for the most obvious reasons. Many people who buy tickets may be motivated by the salacious prospect of reliving New York Congressman Anthony Weiner’s 2011 sexting scandal. And, indeed, they will get their money’s worth—including the infamous underwear-bulge shot and a pixellated rendition of Weiner’s genital selfie. But there is a lot more to this film than that.

The documentary begins two years after revelations about Weiner’s sexting habit forced him to resign from Congress. It’s 2013, and Weiner has decided to run for Mayor of New York. Weiner is a liberal firebrand and was once the youngest member of New York’s City Council. His campaign is a big-stage attempt at a political comeback. But a second sexting scandal emerges, and [spoiler alert] Weiner ends up dead last [4.9% of the vote] in the race that swept Bill DeBlasio into office.

Weiner grants almost unlimited access to the filmmakers, allowing us to see him, his family and his campaign workers in some very raw moments. It’s not a pretty picture. You have to wonder why he didn’t stop the film when things turned terribly sour in his campaign and his personal life. The armchair shrink in me thinks that Weiner is such a narcissist, such an egotist, and so needful of attention that he believed that the documentary would offer proof of his political brilliance and worth.

It doesn’t. Instead, what I saw was a totally self-absorbed man—cocky [pun intended], calculating and certain that he is right. And worse yet, a consummate user of people: particularly of his wife, Huma Abedin, a behind-the-scenes political force in her own right. She is one of Hillary Clinton’s most trusted advisers.

And for me, the crux of this film is Weiner’s psycho/political abuse of Huma Abedin. People wonder why she stood next to him when he initially lied about his sexting compulsion, and why she didn’t just dump him. We may never know. But we see several painful scenes [again, why did Abedin not tell the filmmakers to stop?] in which Abedin is clearly seething at Weiner’s attempts to wriggle out of his latest screw-up–and use her connections to help him run for mayor. But the film also makes us aware that Weiner and Abedin have a toddler at home. Did Abedin do what so many betrayed women do—stay with the jerk as a way of protecting her child from hurt? Maybe she’ll dump him when the child is older. But, for now, she seems resigned to staying with Weiner. Isn’t that acquiescence a hallmark of psychological abuse?

Everyone will see what they want in this film: Weiner as a full-on perv; or, Weiner as a lost opportunity for progressives [his self-inflicted downfall is sad, because he appears to be sincerely liberal on policy]; or, Weiner as just another of the self-entitled jerks we all knew in high-school. As with all documentaries, it’s difficult to figure out how much of what happens on-screen is Weiner consciously playing for the cameras, how much is the real guy, and what role editing has played in conveying his obnoxiousness.

For a while, in the 1990s and early 2000s, we could comfort ourselves with the mythology that all of the Congressional perverts and family-values hypocrites were Republicans. Weiner put the lie to that kind of wishful thinking. And if he thought that opening himself up to up-close public scrutiny via this documentary would help people like him enough to revive his political career and gain himself some measure of personal redemption, he was wrong.

Agreeing to this documentary, and appearing [pretending?] to talk honestly about his indiscretions comes off as just another act of narcissism and of the exhibitionism that he so crudely displayed in the first place. Ick. I need to wash my hands.

[Update, August 2016: Another round of sexting by Weiner–in 2015–has surfaced. One of his texts is a dick pic that includes his toddler son in the background. Ugh. Apparently, this was the last straw, and Huma Abedin has announced that she is separating from Weiner.]

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I’ve been binge-watching a 2008 Israeli soap opera called “Srugim,” and it’s sparking some thoughts about religion.The title, “Srugim” [“suh-roo-geem”] is a Hebrew word that refers to a segment of strict-Orthodox Israeli Jews who are identifiable by the knitted kipa [yarmulke] worn by its male adherents. The series follows a group of 30-ish unmarried men and women who adhere to “Srugim” practices. Being single places them outside of the social mainstream of strict-Orthodox culture, where most women marry in their early 20s and begin having large families as soon as possible. The characters are all looking for love, but struggling to balance the cultural pressure toward marriage with their own needs for independence and autonomy. Their adherence to strict-Orthodoxy ranges from total immersion to a variety of adaptations to contemporary styles and social mores.

To be clear, this is not a documentary. Sometimes it’s serious, and sometimes it’s funny. Think of it as somewhat less comedic “Friends” set in a religious neighborhood in Jerusalem. Surely, as a TV drama, it presents a fictionalized view of Israeli religious and romantic life that is exaggerated for dramatic effect. As an outsider, I can neither debunk nor testify to the level of reality that “Srugim” presents. I can say that “Srugim’s” writers present a very sympathetic view of an Orthodox Jewish way of life and of the characters who are living it.

As for me, I am a person who once embraced a form of Judaism [of the Reform variety], and later moved away from the entire notion of religion as a positive force in my life. So, I began watching “Srugim” mostly as a linguistic exercise: It’s in Hebrew, with English subtitles, and as someone who once was semi-fluent, it’s a fun way to reacquaint myself with the language.

“Srugim” has also made me think about the role that religion plays in peoples’ lives. Orthodox Jewish religious customs are a central part of the show: the Friday-evening siren in Jerusalem that signals the beginning of the Sabbath; the prayers, songs and rituals that accompany Sabbath dinner; the rules governing sexual “purity” during a married woman’s menstrual cycle; the taboo on touching between unmarried men and women; and many more.

Watching all of it leaves me with conflicting thoughts. On one hand, I see people for whom strict religious rules create a comforting structure for their lives. The decisions are all made for them: when to marry, what kind of person to marry, and how to live day-to-day—with religious identity and rituals as the organizing principles. And when they’re not sure what to do [e.g., Is it okay to attend a funeral during the first seven days after one’s wedding?], they can just ask a rabbi.   [And if one rabbi gives you a Talmudic interpretation that you dislike, you can just find another rabbi.] I can see the appeal of it: You have a set identity. The strict rules un-complicate things: You live in a cozy cocoon with people who share your identity. You are warmed by a sense of closeness with your deity, and you feel secure from the confusion of outside influences, because the rules are clear, and if you stick to them, everything will be all right. Who am I to scoff at what some people experience as a beautiful, soul-satisfying way of life?

On the other hand, the prescriptive nature of the characters’ lives is suffocating. One character—feeling the constrictions—makes the decision to become, officially, un-religious. I can see that it’s the path of least resistance to accept, as facts of life, the boundaries that these characters adhere to. But, in my view, the women in “Srugim” are far too accepting of dictates that limit their personal choices, and far too accommodating to men. [They cover their hair, worry about dressing modestly, and accept their status as second-class citizens in their religion.] Clearly, I would be a very lousy Orthodox Jew.

Some reviewers—people closer to the Orthodox community, I suppose—have criticized “Srugim” for presenting a negative portrait of religious life. It’s true that some of the religious adherents seem clueless about life and need to consult a rabbi for advice on just about everything. But, as I see it, that’s satire and dramatic excess, not vitriol. On the other hand, the characters who try to leave the religious life are portrayed as the ones who are struggling the most by giving up something of importance. I imagine that religious critics of the series may have been objecting to inaccuracies in the portrayal of rituals and customs, and to the exaggerations that typify the soap opera genre. It would be understandable for insiders to worry that non-Jews might get a skewed view of Judaism from these departures from reality.

The acting and writing on “Srugim” are excellent. The characters seem like real people—and quite likeable, even when they hurt each other.  They do that a lot—but that’s the nature of soap-opera.

And even though I completely reject—for myself—their dependence on religion for meaning and direction, I find myself rooting for their happiness. I even grudgingly respect their devotion to rituals that are inconvenient, limiting, and—to me–absurd.

Unfortunately, the series ended after two seasons, without wrapping up the story lines. And although I had a negative reaction to the too-important role played by religion in the characters’ lives, I found myself—surprisingly—disappointed to not know how their stories turned out. Did Yifat and Amir work out their problems and have children? Did Hodaya get sucked back into the religious life? Would Reut ever find love? We’ll never know.  And I have to ask myself: Would I care as much if the characters were fundamentalist Christians, or Mormons, or Muslims?

Maybe I would. The bottom line is: I’m a sucker for a well-written, well-acted soap opera, no matter what language it’s in, where it’s set, or how different a life the people live from my own.

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“Eye in the Sky,” is not your typical war movie. Director Gavin Hood has created a military thriller without firefights, bombs, ear-shattering explosions or mud-and-blood spattered soldiers. Unlike most war movies, this one is not about boots-on-the-ground battles. The battle in “Eye in the Sky” is waged behind-the-scenes, at military bases thousands of miles away, in electronic control rooms, and  in high-level government offices. That’s where strategists, soldiers, lawyers and politicians engage in high-stakes decision-making that must balance military goals with morality and political considerations–all in the context of 21st Century, remote-control drone warfare.

The plot revolves around a British-led, targeted drone strike against a group of El Shabbab terrorists in Nairobi, Kenya. Military higher-ups have authorized the strike on a house in Kenya, where three of the most-wanted terrorists have been spotted and confirmed by drone cameras [including a nifty little, beetle-sized flying drone and sophisticated face-recognition software.]  But as the drone operator puts his finger on the trigger, a 9-year-old girl enters the kill zone and sets up shop selling bread. Her presence sets off  the moral/political/military dilemma that drives the movie.

Other movie makers might have added a dramatic, pulsating musical score to tell you that you’re supposed to be on the edge of your seat. Others might have tossed in extraneous characters, red herrings, comic relief, expensive special effects, or sentimental backstories for the main characters. Hood does none of this. The story itself is enough, and he tells it–to excellent effect–step by step and without embellishment. [No spoilers.] Insightful writing, restrained directing and excellent casting [Hellen Mirren and the late, lamented Alan Rickman, to name the top two] make “Eye in the Sky” a worthy, thought-provoking movie experience.

I have no idea if this film is based on a real incident. But if it’s not, it should be. I want to believe that the kind of forethought and ethical wrestling depicted in “Eye in the Sky” plays out in drone warfare. But I’m not that naive.

Sure, it would be reassuring to know that people up and down the decision-making hierarchy take morality into consideration as part of their duties. It was refreshing, for example, to watch the drone operators refuse to take action until they were reassured that what they were about to do was morally and legally justified. But we also see that each of the players– including the British Foreign Secretary, the British Attorney General, the US Secretary of State, the British Prime Minister, and the head of the prevailing party in Parliament–has a specific mission to fulfill. Each sees the situation through his or her own prism. And through them, we realize how complicated these kinds of decisions can be. And, by the way, no one wants to make the ultimate call.

“Eye in the Sky” raises many thorny questions: Which would be worse, saving one child by calling off a drone strike on terrorists who are arming up in suicide vests, or authorizing the strike, knowing that there’s a high probability of the child dying as “collateral damage?”  Should a drone operator have to follow orders that he thinks are immoral? Can the military legally kill a citizen of its own country who has joined up with terrorists in another nation? Does remote-control warfare make it too easy for generals and pilots to walk away from the destruction they inflict? Are these new issues, or the same ones faced over centuries of conventional war? None of these questions is easily answered, and to its credit, “Eye in the Sky” doesn’t try to.

But, as a viewer, you may.  Some movies leave you humming the theme song or repeating a recurring laugh line. Others leave you sniffling and wiping away tears. “Eye in the Sky” had a completely different effect on me: I left asking myself, “What would I do?”

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Michael Moore’s new film has a coy title, “Where to Invade Next.” And that’s where the trouble begins. Based on the title, you might think that the movie is going to be a wry protest against America’s misguided adventures in the Middle East and elsewhere. But it’s not. It purports to satirize America’s unenlightened policies regarding issues such as healthcare, taxation, prisons, education and work. The premise is that European countries do all of those things better, and that we should “invade” those countries and claim the best of their policies for ourselves.

As always, Moore does it cute—starting with the title, and then using person-on-the-street interviews, archival footage, clips from old movies, ambush interviews of public figures, a heavy-handed musical score, and drippingly sarcastic commentary. But, sorry to say, it just doesn’t work this time. It’s the same technique he used—to much better effect—in his earlier movies. The best of those was “Roger and Me.” That movie worked because Moore seemed to have more passion for the subject—the dire economic state of  his hometown Flint, Michigan. And he told the story in format that was new and refreshing at the time. But with this latest effort, Moore has run out his string with this movie-making style, and it’s just gotten tiresome.

He does, however, make some valid points about the contrast between European nations and the US. Italians have more vacations and days off and better working conditions than most Americans. Finland’s schools don’t have homework or standardized tests, and its educators believe that kids should play more and have time off from school. French people pay less in actual and virtual taxes and get a lot more in social benefits—free healthcare etc. Slovenia provides free higher education. Iceland sent its corrupt bankers to jail, and the one bank that survived was run by women. Tunisia’s women took to the streets and gained equal rights. Prisons in Norway treat prisoners humanely, and there is no death penalty. Germany teaches its students about Nazi atrocities.

I agree with Moore that these differences make America look bad. There’s plenty to be outraged about, and a lot that the US could learn. Unfortunately, Moore makes these points in a very annoying way: He is clownish and boorish. He presents himself as a know-nothing, ugly-American stereotype. His movie-making style is self-indulgent: He just can’t resist being the center of every scene. [I was particularly annoyed when he just had to include his own story of being at the Berlin Wall when it was being demolished. And his interview with a Norwegian man whose son was killed in the infamous 2011 mass murder was absolutely cringe-worthy, as he repeatedly tried to goad the man into saying that he would want the death penalty for the murderer.]

Worst of all, for a movie whose central arguments actually have merit, Moore’s hyperbole, oversimplifications–and repeated, unfunny flag-planting stunt–undermine the seriousness of his intent. Examples:There is a lot more behind Italy’s generous work policies than Moore explains. And I seriously doubt that, as Moore claims, German schools remind students “every day” about what the Nazis did during World War II.

Don’t get me wrong: I enjoy political satire. Making serious points by making people laugh is a very effective strategy. Moore just didn’t get it right, this time.

Better editing and a less middle-school attitude could have made this a much better documentary—one that might even have had the potential to enlighten some of America’s real know-nothings.

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