Wolfs in Sheep’s Clothing

This week I watched attempts by both J.D. Vance and George Clooney to charm their way through inferior material and ultimately both failed miserably. 

The Chair comin’ in hot!

Which only goes to show that whether it’s faux Republican schtick or tired Democratic schtick some of us viewers can still spot a con a mile away.

In his new-ish Apple movie, Wolfs, Mr. Clooney – with support from his buddy Brad Pitt – plays a handsome, slick, near infallible fixer. The type of guy you turn to when you have to dispose of a dead body, clean up a crime scene or drive backwards to safety in the middle of the night.

Is it bothering anyone else that it should be Wolves?? #justme

But it’s really a variation of the handsome, slick, near infallible, criminal mastermind Mr. Clooney first brought us almost a quarter century ago in the theatrical blockbuster Ocean’s Eleven (2001), which he then repeated in Ocean’s Twelve (2004), and then repeated again in Ocean’s Thirteen (2007).

Which are all a reboot, remake , rip-off or contemporary, cultural reappropriation (Note: You choose) of the original Ocean’s 11 (1960) starring Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin and Sammy Davis, Jr. aka The Rat Pack, aka the George Clooney and Brad Pitt of their times.

Okay, perhaps the above sarcasm is a bit much. Or is it?

I’ll let you decide

See, the original Ocean’s was merely a goof of a film that packaged the kind of slick, easy, tongue-in-cheek late 50s style boys club humor the Rat Pack stars were known for by employing their larger-than-life celebrity personas on the big screen.

Almost two and a half decades ago it was sort of fun to have Clooney lead a gold star class of turn-of-the-21st-century movie stars of the time (Note: Pitt, Julia Roberts, Matt Damon) mug their way through fantasy, high stakes mischief.  But after milking the buddy-buddy, wink-wink style and tone in so many various ways over so many years and in so many other films in addition to the Oceans franchise, its repackaging on steroids into Wolfs feels a bit cheap and threadbare, despite its rumored $200 million budget. 

Yeah, it’s a little like this

Both Clooney and the movie ultimately come across like a well-wrapped last-minute re-regifting on Christmas morning.  Once you unwrap the pretty paper what you get inside ultimately makes little sense and shows a profound lack of imagination on the part of the person who gave it to you.  Something that, with a modicum of effort, they figured they could get away with.

The Chair again with the hot tea

One could ultimately say the same of JD Vance’s performance in the Vice Presidential debate as he tried to deftly repackage Donald Trump (Note: AKA his running mate and now forever #1) policies on steroids by way of Project 2025, all the while denying their intent and lying about his past and their existence.  His was an upside-down Alice in Wonderland world view, where he denied he did not want to ban abortion nationwide (Note: He is literally on audio and video saying the opposite multiple times), proclaims Mr. Trump tried to save Obamacare (Note: We literally saw John McCain vote that thumbs down years ago and have actual tweets of Trump whining about it) and simply lied about things like illegal immigrants stealing away jobs from American workers.  Fact check here.

Here, demonstrating his distance from the truth

This was all fueled by his delivery – a faux sincere Christ-like quality of benevolence and respect for everyone, most especially Democratic VP nominee Tim Walz, when he’s in the past and near present referred to unmarried American women as “unhappy, childless cat ladies,” his own running mate as “America’s Hitler” and called Mr. Walz’s 24 years in the National Guard, where he trained soldiers to use weapons of war, “stolen valor garbage.”

On the surface, which is where he lived in those 90 minutes, Mr. Vance proved himself to be a slick, silver-tongued debater, much in the same way Mr. Clooney’s characters were slick fixers and silver-tongued uber-thieves.  But once you get below the glossy surfaces the shiny masks give way to the real truth underneath.

Ahhhhhh!

For Vance it was when at the end of the debate, Mr. Walz point blank asked him whether Trump (Note: Indeed a former president, despite how much I loathe writing and admitting that) had actually lost his re-election bid to Joe Biden in 2020.  Clearly fearing the Wrath of Trump, or Sauron or Kahn, or even Gollum, Vance refused to say yes and tried to change the subject.  At which point Coach Walz, the everyman of us all, proclaimed directly to the camera (nee US), that was:

A damning non-answer.

Reality did not happen. 

an evergreen gif

Yet even after almost four years of a Biden presidency and dozens of victorious court cases, many decided by Republican judges who unanimously ruled against Trump and confirmed Mr. Biden’s win, Vance nevertheless continued to claim, there were “problems” with the election.

 The principal one being Mr. Trump could not get his controversial little hands on the Oval Office for a second term. – The Chair

Kaboom

You would think Mr. Clooney – who seems to take humble brag satisfaction at helping to successfully oust Mr. Biden from his bid for re-election in early July in a scathing NY Times editorial that went viral – would have not reveled in inertia but instead chosen a newer, more substantial and far less shiny piece of work to put before the American public than the unsatisfying shaggy dog story of Wolves Wolfs.

A mere three months ago, citing Mr. Biden’s age, he definitively and absolutely proclaimed, perhaps due to what he saw through his magical crystal ball, that “we (Democrats) are not going to win with this president” if we allowed Mr. Biden to try to play the same role in our body politic once again.

Profound as that may seem in hindsight, it’s essential to also know his forecast didn’t end there.  Instead he advised we figure it all out at a messy Democratic convention, where a GROUP of…strong Democrats stand and tell us why they’re best qualified to lead this country.

Because that would have totally worked right?

Never mind the first female, first woman of color Vice President going from the #2 to the #1 role.

Nothing new about that.  We need to shake things up.  Even more.

So easy to say when it’s not you who is being forced to step aside, tell the truth or reinvent.

Barbra Streisand – “Who’s Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf”

Ripley, Believe it or Not

There are any number of shots and scenes in writer-director Steven Zaillian’s stunningly well-executed Ripley (now on Netflix) where Andrew Scott’s title character seems to be metaphorically salivating at the sight of even the most ordinary playthings of the rich he finds himself in the company of.

A thick, gleaming fountain pen or a thin paisley robe are no different than the expensive Italian villa with picture perfect views of the crystal blue sea. They are all precious objects to possess and consume (though not necessarily in that order) and, more importantly, they all seem to have equal weight in his mind.

Hot priest still lookin’ Hot in Ripley

In Zaillian’s stark yet quite stylish black and white adaptation of the renowned 1955 novel by Patricia Highsmith, Scott’s subdued yet somehow quite intensely determined gaze tells us all we need to know about where this will lead.

It would never be enough for Tom Ripley (Note: Well, he calls himself that) to possess just one or most of the above, nor would he be satisfied if he possessed all of them.

The truth it seems to be rendering is that there will always be more trappings, more objects and more ways to live the perceived high life.  But the secret, stubborn stench of one’s own inferior, ordinary self can never be rubbed out by mere things.  Much in the same way those things can never understand what it’s like to be truly alive, or feel good about their lush, humanly perceived beauty. 

Or feel anything.

Sorry Marilyn

This is why, after viewing the first two episodes, all I could think about was just how relevant this Ripley is for understanding the psyches of a certain type in our current billionaire class in these anything but United States – the either Trump supporting Trump agnostic. 

Let’s be clear, this eight-part Ripley mini-series is far from the first time Highsmith’s novel has been deemed relevant enough to be splashily transferred to the screen.  Most notably, it was the source material for the twisty 1960 French film Purple Noon, which made an international movie star out of the then impossibly gorgeous (Note: Sorry, NO other way to say it) Alain Delon, while simultaneously reflecting (Note: Or perhaps presaging) the brewing, far less-materialistic social mores of the 1960s.

No lies told about Mr. Delon

Decades later it was then remade by writer-director Anthony Minghella as The Talented Mr. Ripley (1999), starring Matt Damon, Jude Law and Gwyneth Paltrow, where it became a commercial and artistic hit and received five Oscar nominations.  At the time we thought we were condemning the forever defunct acquisitive values of the let ‘em eat cake Reagan years (Note: Or at least I did) but little did we (or I) know just how much more there would be to condemn a mere 25 years later.

But we would never condemn this look!

It has also been the subject of a radio play, stage adaptation, an episode of an anthology TV series and a young adult novel over the last seven decades for various other reasons and in various other moments.  

In the future – well, it could be perfect material for a balls out contemporary opera, a post-modern ballet or even some combination of both. That is if the Netflix version is determined to be a sufficient enough branding hit.

Depending on where we are headed after that, at some point it might be cloned into a new type of  anti-hero superhero event film. Think an upscale fusion of Joker AND Robin Hood, though let’s not give out any more free ideas).

Lock it in the safe!

The point is you can do a lot with a sociopathic protagonist who refuses to accept who he really is, or thinks a lot of stuff or better people or more admiration or endless victories will fill him up. Someone who would lie, cheat, manipulate and commit a lot worse than that, at will, against anyone or anything that stood in his way, in order to achieve it.  (Note:Perhaps, one day, those crimes might even be against whole nations – or at least provide a template for such a character).

This week the Pulitzer Prize-winning economist Paul Krugman wrote a very thoughtful and quite scary column in The New York Times about why some billionaires will inevitably back the twice-impeached, many times indicted former president (AKA you know who) for POTUS again. 

We’re with you, Disgust.

Krugman correctly reasons that it’s not as if these guys (and a few gals) haven’t made buckets of money in the record high stock market recovery under Pres. Biden, especially compared to how much they lost when the US economy crashed during Trump’s reign and mishandling of those pandemic years.

Nor are they unaware of his admiration for the Jan. 6 insurrection and those who perpetrated it, as well as his desire to be an authoritarian dictator on day one of his next administration. 

He’s literally proclaimed it to them, and to us.

This this this!

Not to mention his intention to use the Justice Department to jail his political opponents, and law enforcement to round up millions of undocumented immigrants to put in “detention camps,” or euphemisms far worse.

Nevertheless Krugman believes, unlike myself, those billionaires would still be unhappy with this type of world – if only because the economy tends to do poorly in times of social and political chaos. 

So then, if none of these IS the reason, then why, why, WHY their recent surge of anti-hero, anti-democracy, Trump…love?

The first answer is obvious, if not odious.  The very rich are guaranteed to pay way less taxes, and their corporations and business will be far less regulated, once Trump regains the Oval Office.

Weekend billionaire activity

But even Krugman himself questions how that will matter.  Since they all have so much money it will barely be a hit to, much less make a dent in, their overall income.

Plus, all the prestige they gain from being as rich, or richer, than the next billionaire (Note: Essential bragging rights among much of that class) will essentially remain intact since they will all be pretty much taking the same hits, and thus be in the same pecking order, across the board.

Thus what we are left with is his second answer, and theory. 

The one that is far more troubling, and much more akin, to the Tom Ripley belief system about money. 

And that is –

Somehow their wealth, their things, their elevated place in society, will protect them from everything bad in the world. 

The. Worst.

Like a small army of multiple Ripleys, they have talked themselves into believing that money, power and position give them absolute and total immunity (Note: Sound familiar?) from it all.

Even from their own bad decisions. Which, like Ripley, are actions fueled by the one fatal flaw nothing they possess can ever give them – the courage to face their own, deepest insecurities.

Neuroses so potent that they actually believe they will not meet the same fate as any number of dead, imprisoned or permanently contained Russian oligarchs under the authoritarian thumb of Vladimir Putin. Or that of so many wealthy Jews in Europe during the dictatorship of Adolf Hitler.

If those names don’t feel like warning signs… look again

Or have to deal with the fallout from their own unbridled excesses the way Pharma Bro Martin Shkreli or Bitcoin-meister Sam Bankmann-Fried recently had to do in an ostensibly free society. Or Roy Cohn or Joseph McCarthy were forced to face several eras before when they were overcome by their own hubris.  Or Phil Spector or Robert Durst fell prey to once their true selves were found out.

This is to say nothing of the fate of Ripley (Note: Though that depends on which of his “endings” you choose) and the sheer havoc he wreaked on almost everyone, good or bad, that he came across in his quest for, well, glory.

But he and they were at least fortunate enough to be fictional characters in a pushed reality version of our world. 

You mean I can’t just escape into a TV show?

Currently, the top 1% of earners in our country control 70% of its wealth.  Among them are our current crop of contemporary US billionaires, 735 of whom hold more wealth than the bottom 50% of ALL American households (Note: For reference, consider there are now about 335 million people in the US).  

Meaning that any group action taken by a substantial enough number of these actual flesh and blood, rarefied human beings have the potential to bring down not only them, but almost all 335 mill. of the rest of us.

Let’s hope that either the majority of them choose wisely in the coming months or that at the very least a majority of us are motivated enough to counteract their bad decisions at the ballot box.

Or both.

And that the $50 million the Trump campaign claims to have raised on Saturday from just ONE billionaire fundraiser in Palm Beach is a mere anomaly, or about as real as all the modern-day billionaire Ripleys combined. 

Roy Orbison – “The Great Pretender”