How could that be?

Look at her.

She’s stunning.

I, of course, had the blunt interests of a boy who knew nothing about women or sex– although I was very interested in both– and I simply accepted Hollywood’s casual objectification of these mysteries. I didn’t know somebody was attractive unless Hollywood signalled to me that they were, something they usually did by a display of nudity. And so the promise of Jessica Lange, Kim Basinger or Jamie Lee Curtis taking off their top in some accessible, high velocity movie was simply too much for me to resist.

Streep, who even at a young age seemed to be playing adults rather than sex toys for naive adolescents, was cast in the sort of films that my parents might be interested in, in “prestige” films, and even though she was of the same general age as all the other celebrities I lusted after, she was stood apart from them, a European cousin, or something.

As an adult I came to love Meryl Streep. Not so much for her acting, which was always somehow obscured for me by her reputation for “acting,” but for her presence. Talented, charismatic and beautiful, she’s also fantastically articulate and charming, and like everybody else I was super keen to hear her speak at the Golden Globes.

Her speech was widely celebrated.

Meryl Streep, Hollywood’s single-combat hero, called to our better angels, and as we sat there listening it was as if the Stature of Liberty herself was speaking. Expecting to love every word of it, I was surprised to discover that I did not.

Although she might have been joking when she referred to the roomful of beautiful, insanely wealthy and adored people sitting before her as, “The most vilified segment of American society,” it made me roll my eyes . Whether she intended it with any irony or not is unclear, but the thrust of her argument was that Hollywood, full of outsiders and foreigners, was representative of some sort of scrappy refugee success story rather than a consumerist ideal of near-unattainable privilege. She continued, saying that if Trump had his way, all America would have left would be football and mixed martial arts– and as she said this, her voice rising in certainty, finger wagging, she admonished, “Which are not the arts!”

The home crowd cheered.

I don’t know.

I had thought I was the home crowd, too, but was I supposed to believe that actors were rescuing America from the things that the people who lived there liked? That football and MMA were unworthy to watch unless they were recreated in movie format starring celebrities?

Something like that?

I wasn’t sure.

Her audience was rapt, hanging on every word. And they were all so beautiful and dewy, so earnest and self-congratulatory in expression, so not of this earth that I imagined them separating from the rest of the world and rising up, up, up in some magical balloon that they knew the rest of us, so smitten, would never be able to let go of.

Her condemnation of Trump’s nascent war on journalism struck me as wanting, too, because there is likely no industry that succeeds so brilliantly at manipulating the press as does Hollywood. The Hollywood Foreign Press, who are responsible for the Golden Globes, are little more than a marketing wing for the industry, trading off favourable stories for glamorous access.

When we see our celebrities on the red carpet refusing to be objectified by not revealing who made their outfit and thus striking a blow for equal rights, we have to keep in mind that they’re still accepting money to advertise that dress.

Hollywood is about money.

Period.

If art or diversity or empathy is a byproduct of this pursuit, all the better, but if Meryl Streep were being honest with herself and the rest of us, she might acknowledge that she, like Trump, depends on a compliant media to promote her work and spin her narratives.

And so it goes.

Everything touches everything else.

It’s not like Streep was saying anything crazy, though. She was trying to do good, but her blind spots were, well, Hollywood in scope. Her words were tangled in contradictions, a stinging disregard for those who might not agree with her, and an imperious detachment from the pedestrian, discount store lives the rest of us struggle to lead, and that actually demoralized me.

Politicians and actors, I have found out, have all too much in common.

“I hate It’s A Wonderful Life. I mean, are you kidding me? It’s A Wonderful Life. Didn’t look so wonderful to me. More like It’s A Pathetic Life. George Bailey was a loser, super low energy guy. I immediately sensed he was not much of anything. Horrible businessman with no negotiation skills who couldn’t close a deal if his life depended on it. And when he told that woman he liked that he was going to lasso the moon for her?

I almost puked. Jesus, buy her something nice, you schmuck. And trust me, I’ve been with a lot of women, A LOT, and buying them nice, LUXURY items is the way you get quality women.

He’s lucky she didn’t laugh in his face, but let’s be honest here, she was pretty plain so maybe she didn’t think she could do any better. Look, If I was George Bailey, which I could never be, I would have jumped off the bridge, too.”

“Oh yeah, I like lots of Christmas movies, too. Trading Places, you heard of that? Classic. It’s not really very sophisticated when it comes to business, but it’s great to see luxury and the ability to finance a deal finally get some prominence in a Christmas film. Really got the 80’s right. The 80’s let me tell you, was a great era in American history. And let’s not forget a young Jamie Lee Curtis. Wow. What a set.

You wouldn’t expect it because she looked like a boy mixed with a horse, but she really delivered the goods. Sadly, she’s no longer a ten.”

“Die Hard is another favourite. Foreign money and a bunch of loser terrorists think they can come into America and steal our jobs? On Christmas, the peak consumer cycle of the year?? Think again.”

“LOVED How the Grinch Stole Christmas. A lot of liberals and politically correct types think it’s somehow anti-consumerist. Oh, really? It’s actually a classic story of a misunderstood businessman and how trickle down economics and plutocracies function. The Grinch was a very high energy guy who knew how to make a plan and execute it, and through his industry, smarts, guts and hard work, he was able to amass a fortune, maybe not as much as me, but a fortune all the same. Was there a government that came in and stole all of the Grinch’s profits? No, no there was not. And did he give back to the community? Yes, yes he did. The Christmas message? Stay out of the way of exceptional businessmen like me, and good things will happen.”

*************************************

1. Furmer sur le banc (1984)

This brilliant French film follows the life of cab driver Henri Beaumont as he ferries customers through the streets of Montreal during Guy Lafleur’s astonishing 60goal season as a star winger on the Canadiens. Divided into sixty, two-minutes segments, the hockey game on the cab radio (Lafleur scores in each one) serves as the connective tissue between Henri and his passengers as they talk about life. Stylistically innovative, the movie is by turns funny, intimate and revealing, a precursor to the popular show Taxi Cab Confessions. (Cameo by Guy Lafleur at the end.)

2. Chinese People (1949)

Directed by Alfred Hitchcock, this little known film blurs the line between racist satire and disorienting sexual fetish. Hitchcock has never been more exposed or vulnerable in his craft. Starring Jerry Lewis.

3. Amish Furniture (1969)

This Swedish drama takes an unflinching look at suicide and the aftermath as it settles on an unsuspecting Amish community. Soundtrack by Jimmi Hendrix.

4. Incident at the White Tower Motel (1972)

Directed by Japanese master Kurosawa, this stands as the greatest horror film ever made. Watch for a young Jamie Lee Curtis in the bear pepper spray scene.

5. Star Wars (1977)

Directed by George Lucas, this science fiction masterwork reinterprets the bible and features a gay robot dressed in gold lame. It changed movie making forever.

6. La Sangre de la caza de la polla (1958)

Director Octavio Getino explores the often-dark relationship between man and chicken in this classic example of Spanish neo-realism. He paints a brutal, even savage portrait of cockfighting, but still, we empathize with the cock wranglers and marvel at the nobility of the cocks themselves– a troubling film that will stay with you long after your viewing.

7. Dingleberry (1934)

This silent film follows “Dingleberry,” an optimistic and naïve dog, as he travels through America during the Great Depression. One of the most remarkable social documents of the country ever made.

8. The Underground Railroad Disco Party (1977)

This film, a dazzling mix of Blaxploitation and Documentary, mines the history of the disco movement, showing us the political background that informed the music that is all too often thought of as little more than a hedonistic spasm. Explicit nudity throughout, it’s a movie that film critic Pauline Kael famously described as “boner-inducing.”

9. Chico y el frijol   (2008)

This piece of magical realism centers on the tempestuous relationship between a Latin truck driver and his  headstrong girlfriend as they wind their way through the unpredictable, often surreal landscape of communist Cuba. Uproariously funny, with a brilliant performance by Sean Penn, this film transcends the road movie genre, lifting the audience up into profound and sublime precincts rarely encountered in cinema.

10. Game of Poems (2003)

This expertly crafted Michael Bay movie follows the lives of three poets as they vie for a $500 grant. Each story– that at first seem entirely disconnected–all come together in a rising and unexpected crescendo. It’s a taut, stylish thriller. (4 hours and 23 minutes)