Should we move to Zootopia?

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I used to be a black and white thinker who found it hard to compromise. Now I just find it hard to compromise. The world and its issues no longer exist on a clear us vs. them color spectrum for me. Rather they waft across my mind in all sorts of shades, rainbow waves of color. (Note: Okay, sometimes flags). I suppose that’s progress. More probably, age.

Still, some things are still clear to me as I reflect this week on the passing of Nancy Reagan, the opening of Zootopia, and the outbreaks of vitriol and violence surrounding Donald Trump events.

  1. Ronald and Nancy Reagan’s willful ignorance/refusal to lead on the ADIS epidemic in the eighties, while they were co-leaders of the free world, cost the lives of tens of thousands of Americans (approximately 100 of whom were close friends and acquaintances of mine) and I loathe and detest them. No amount of revisionist history on the part of their acolytes or society at large will change that. Or the facts. (Note: For more on this read Randy Shilts’ And The Band Played Onor at very least its Wikipedia summary). (Note #2: I do wish Randy, a great guy I met several times, was here to explain it to you but he died some years later after his exhaustively researched book came out – from AIDS).
  2. Animated films that are well done create undeniable connections to our real, imagined or idealized childhoods that most everyone can agree on. Even those of us who don’t rush out to see them can’t deny these facts – a 99% rating on Rotten Tomatoes and an opening 3-day weekend of $75 million domestically for a movie that metaphorically, via our beloved animal kingdom, advocates equal opportunity for all and thus shows us there is still an ever-so-slight glimmer of hope that our future existence is not doomed. (Note: Yes, that’s just a glimmer, but still…).
  3. Donald Trump has gone from at best an oddly amusing and crude drunk uncle to at worst a neo-Hitler presence of sociopathic id on the world stage who will use any means necessary, and without apology, to get what he wants. (Note: I’m not sure if that’s the presidency or attention, probably both). But more to the point — even though he denies his words are responsible for the near race riot that broke out in Chicago on Saturday at one of his rallies, the fact that he lied about the Chicago police advising him to cancel it should tell us all he is clearly headed far, far off the cliff into uncharted waters on the right side (Note: Not to be confused with correct side – and certainly not left side) of history.

What’s a blogger to do?

AGHHHH

AGHHHH

I am willing to compromise on some things but the truth is not one of them. And the truth is a 94 year-old woman who was someone’s mother, wife, friend, and icon, (whether I find the latter misguided or not) died this week and a segment of the world are sad and upset. This, in turn, perhaps ushers in a moment or two when those of us who still feel not much except difference and disdain, can give them some room to grieve.

But not if they don’t tell truth.

When I read social media posts proclaiming the Reagans heroes who were only a bit late in speaking on a worldwide pandemic and that I should get over it already I remember the skin and bones face of a dying friend whose life might have been prolonged or saved had the disease primarily affected doe-eyed, blonde 5-year olds rather than gay men. I also recall Mrs. Reagan whispering what she thought was a clandestine off-mic prompt of we’re doing everything we can for her dithering husband to say when a reporter dared ask him about AIDS at a time when clearly, in the scheme of things, Pres. Reagan was doing absolutely nothing.

Signs of the times

Signs of that time

And when hearing political pundits bloviate on this week about the former First Lady’s great loyalty to her friends what comes to mind for me is this well-researched article detailing Mrs. Reagan’s refusal to intercede on behalf on her AIDS-ravaged good friend Rock Hudson when in the mid-eighties his loved ones begged her, near the end of his life, to help get him into a Paris hospital doing cutting edge research on an ever unfolding plague. On a more personal basis, what also didn’t help me at all was when another Facebook friend posted the real villain in this piece was Rock Hudson for not coming out as gay publicly some years before. Really?

As for Hillary Clinton momentarily touting, then quickly apologizing, for her statement that Mrs. Reagan did subtly start a conversation on AIDS at the time, I can’t even…

HELP!

HELP!

As I stated, I’m not very good at compromise. But at least I’m trying.

Speaking of trying, it’s difficult to continue wasting ink, not to mention brain cells, on The Republican Apprentice when at the very least one could be attending an afternoon or evening showing of Zootopia. Though I venture to say many of the people in Europe had similar thoughts about Adolph Hitler in the 1930s.

For the record, I despise serious Hitler metaphors to pop culture events. But #Drumpf is no longer mere pop culture. My beloved Sarah Silverman tried to make him so when she dressed up as the Great Dictator, swastika and all, on a recent episode of Conan where she had her version of the Nazi leader complaining about the public comparing him to Trump but for the most part it fell flat. Too soon? I’m not sure. Still, “A” for effort. At least she was trying something.  

It’s one thing to disagree with our current president’s foreign policy, a dearth of enough jobs, a slow economic recovery or the ever-present threats of terrorism. It’s another to ask supporters to raise their hands in a faux Nazi salute and pledge loyalty to you as you belittle protestors (Note: a great American tradition) and bellow at security guards to ‘GET ‘EM OUT!’ Especially when the majority of those protestors are Black or Brown and the bulk of your supporters are Uber-Lily White.

This about sums it up

This about sums it up

There is no road to compromise on this issue when the subject you speak of (that’s the guy who owns those hideous-looking hotels, and yeah, that’s my b & w opinion) is not only unwilling to but is a master of denial of intention on anything he publicly states at any given moment. Your only weapon is the truth on the subject – which in any rational argument IS BLACK AND WHITE. Meaning despite their extremes these two colors do certainly exist and on certain pieces of clothing – and in certain arguments – are a more than adequate first choice of color for any occasion if considered carefully and used wisely and judiciously.

Which brings us to Zootopia. I haven’t seen it yet but I love the description of the plot on RottenTomatoes:

The modern mammal metropolis of Zootopia is a city like no other. Comprised of habitat neighborhoods like ritzy Sahara Square and frigid Tundratown, it’s a melting pot where animals from every environment live together – a place where no matter what you are, from the biggest elephant to the smallest shrew, you can be anything. But when rookie Officer Judy Hopps (voice of Ginnifer Goodwin) arrives, she discovers that being the first bunny on a police force of big, tough animals isn’t so easy. Determined to prove herself, she jumps at the opportunity to crack a case, even if it means partnering with a fast-talking, scam-artist fox, Nick Wilde (voice of Jason Bateman), to solve the mystery.

Not just a bunch of animals

Not just a bunch of animals

We could do a lot worse than use the theme of a 2016 Disney film as a primer for contemporary living and coexistence these days. Well, I suppose we could also do a lot better, though I’m not sure how at this moment in time. And if last week’s events are any indication, neither do you or anyone else – left, right, center or off the cliff on either side.

I hesitate to argue in favor of a corporate message – or even that life can best be lived as any Disney film – but compared to what I’m really thinking…well, it’s the best I can do for any sort of compromise. At the moment, anyway.

What the [BLEEP] was that?

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Ricky Gervais really did seem like he didn’t want to be there. No, really. It wasn’t his usual faux pose of I’m in on the joke and too good for this except, really, I’m not and want the money and probably should have the exposure. It was more, Oh, just give me your damn script, I’ll make a few tweaks, ad-lib and then we’ll be fine.

Except he wasn’t and it wasn’t. What it was –- was a mess.

The highlight, of course, came when Gervais had to introduce Mel Gibson – who has somehow been granted a reprieve from Hollywood Siberia after more than a large handful of alcoholic/rage-induced, anti-Semitic and/or anti-female rants and/or actions. See, several years prior Ricky had unmercifully ragged on an absent Mel during all that hubbub but now Mel’s asylum meant he needed to be re-introduced as a presenter.

I'm already exhausted

I’m already exhausted

Well, Ricky got some jabs in, compared Mel to Cosby and got some uncomfortable laughs. Then Mel came out and was a sport, especially for Mel. And he seemed sober, even if Ricky seemed not to be. (Note: was the whiskey glass a prop? We’ll never truly know, will we?) But more importantly –

Mel began to speak, Ricky came back out and —- BLEEP, BLEEP, BLEEP. Well, he said something but we never knew what.

The same way Jonah Hill said something funny they wouldn’t let us hear – BLEEP, BLEEP, BLEEP – while we had to listen to all of his other bombing lines.

giphy

Jane's reaction to Jonah's schtick almost makes her dress forgivable... almost.

Jane’s reaction says it all

In the same fashion that Amy Schumer told Jennifer Lawrence – BLEEP, BLEEP, BLEEP – …well, we couldn’t hear a bunch of that either.

And that’s how it went. Over and over again.

I kind of like the idea that celebs don’t seem to give a damn what happens on a show like this. Everyone is either lit or overly appreciative to God (Note: Whomever you may imagine Her or Him to be), and there’s always those rare cases of sincerity – to friends and family (as if it were a cell phone plan) or even a handful of co-workers.

And then there's this

And then there’s this

When the camera captures that and we, as spectators get to enjoy it, it’s like a candid snapshot of a strange counter reality – which is not as fake as you usually get but not 100% real. When you can count more than 10-20 bleeps, heck…THAT’S NOT FAIR! IT JUST ISN’T!! WAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!

RICKKKYYYYYYY

RICKKKYYYYYYY

If I sound like a six year-old well….what do you mean if??? Okay – full confession – I guessed the winners of 8 out of 25 categories on Sunday night’s show – scoring a pathetic 31% average of correct choices. Maybe that’s real issue. Of course, I’d be worried if I really understood the Hollywood Foreign Press but hey, this was embarrassing. I’m a gay guy and I didn’t pick Lady Gaga to win for American Horror Story: Hotel. Instead I went with Kirsten Dunst for Fargo – a show I’ve never even seen! (Note: And please, please don’t say I have to watch it, that this season was the best and it’ll change my life……ahhhhhh!!!!).

Rah rah ah-ah-ah! Gaga Oo-la la!

Rah rah ah-ah-ah! Gaga Oo-la la!

Well, at least Julia Louis-Dreyfus (Veep) didn’t win for the 29th time. Sure, the one year I bet on her they give it to…Rachel Bloom??? Who the hell is she? I haven’t seen Crazy Ex-Girlfriend either. And let’s be honest – NEITHER HAVE YOU.

There were lots of other surprises that made not much sense. Amazon’s Mozart in the Jungle won for best comedy series – well, we know you certainly haven’t seen that one. And I haven’t either. But now I guess I (we?) will. Maybe.

I guess it’s actually kind of great that lesser known stuff wins. But then Stallone wins for best supporting actor for Creed – which you sort of have to like given it’s been almost 40 years since the first Rocky; Kate Winslet gets it for supporting actress for Steve Jobs; and Aaron Sorkin wins screenplay for that film over the lesser known writers (who isn’t?) of Spotlight, Room and The Big Short. Not that it’s ever illogical when either Sorkin or Charlie Kaufman receives a writing award. What’s illogical is why I (or you) complain about it or expect anything different.

The champ

The champ

I’m here to tell you that you can go crazy predicting Hollywood. And show you. Clearly.

Spending more than three hours of your life watching this and an equal amount of time writing about it before and after it airs does that to you – especially after decades of living here and working in the industry. Well, whose fault is that? Squarely mine.

Still, give up show business? No way! This is a commitment, voluntary though it may be. Sort of what McMurphy discovers about several of his mental asylum friends halfway through One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. But that movie won FIVE Golden Globe awards back in 1976 – a time when all of this made a whole lot more sense. Not like this year when The Revenant wins three and Steve Jobs and The Martian both win a puny two. And Joy and Creed get just one. Heck, that’s as many as Crazy Ex-Girlfriend!

OK.. the show has spontaneous musical numbers, I can probably get behind it

OK.. the show has spontaneous musical numbers, I can probably get behind it

Well, at least my fave new show of this year – Mr. Robot – won best drama series. Though that’s only because I listened to my students and started binge watching it several days ago. Yes, the children are our futures. I’ll close with that. Thanks Hollywood Foreign Press for…not very much. #Tina&Amy2017.

Miss any of the Chair’s tweet beat during the Globes? Catch up here!