Reaction Shots: The War in Alex’s War
A postmordem on my review of Alex's War and why Lightyear is the worse Pixar film yet.
Alex’s War is one of the most poorly timed films or documentaries that I have seen in my lifetime. As I reviewed it, I was quite confident that it was the best and only way to depict a hugely influential figure who blares out conspiracy theories for a living. Here’s what I wrote:
What Moyer does best is allowing much of the archival footage assembled to portray Jones’s origins as rather complicated. In interviews, he claimed that much of his quirks have not changed, and during the Bush era, his usefulness is determined by circumstance. For example, he appeared in Richard Linklater’s motion-capture film Waking Life, which presents him as the typical energetic oddball from Austin. Hollywood’s own use of Jones continued when Charlie Sheen told Jimmy Kimmel that he believed in the 9/11 conspiracy and he first heard of it on Jones’s show. He was made to be their class clown, but around that time, these situations don’t make Jones bear any of the blame for America’s ills, so long as these people want to believe what they wish to believe. He’s harshly critical of Bill Clinton, and George W Bush for being part of the New World Order and both were unpopular at the time. Particularly with Bush, it was pretty fashionable to lampoon him over his Iraq War failures. For some fans, his libertarian populism and anti-war critiques were a refreshing counterpoint to the cookie-cutter conservatism that you get from Fox News and the Republican Party.
I didn’t think about the highly-publicized legal battles between Alex Jones and the parents of the Sandy Hook victims further, because I wanted to concentrate on the comprising aesthetics, much of which surrounds the absurdity of what he says. This involved a lot of compiled footage that’s not limited to Alex Jones ranting on his desk about Barack Obama’s wife being transgender. Now that these trials are moving towards a conclusion (mild spoiler: he’s going to be paying these parents a lot of money), I think it would be best to ask ourselves what are we achieving when we are giving space to contentious figures.
As the medium of the documentary evolves in a polarizing time, the question surrounding this ethic of depicting terrible people remains and it largely depends on your tolerance of the subject. Personally, I have often surrounded myself physically with people with controversial opinions that could get you kicked out of a dinner party, thus my ability to put up with them is quite strong. And I have watched documentaries about right-wing figures, that otherwise function as puff pieces of their work to know that their intentions aren’t up to par in terms of quality, but it seems good when your backing establishments won’t let them have that freedom. But others don’t have that type of personality when consuming them, thus it is completely understandable why they would outright reject it.
We are fine with the idea of platforming these people, so long as we are pushing back towards them. The Act of Killing is one of my favourite documentaries ever. There, we witness the perpetrators of the Indonesian mass killings from 1965 to 1966 living out their lives, as if they were normal people or moved on from their crimes. Joshua Oppenheimer’s approach to exposing them for who they are is putting them in the scenes of movies because they have a passion for cinema. If you’ve seen The Act of Killing, there are many layers in exposing the atrocities and how we respond when it’s reenacted in a medium that would otherwise sanitize it. Some have criticized it for not going far enough, but I believe it has accomplished what it set out to do.
When Alex Jones called the victims of the Sandy Hook shooting ‘crisis actors’ in real-time, it will be a stain that he cannot rid himself of, no matter how much he expresses regret about it in the public. Does this destroy the effort of Alex Lee Moyer, because she doesn’t emphasize that more on the event and hold him accountable? Not really. Because it’s about the life of Alex Jones, who was born to be a conspiracy theorist and become more mainstream with his endorsement of Donald Trump and has been banned from every social media platform that you can think of.
I asked whether or not Jones was a sincere person throughout Alex’s War. It’s different from thinking that he’s a good person (he isn’t) because that can be conflated as one thing. There are some who actually do think that, which is why they believe that he can be correct for at least one time. I’ve seen Senators on Twitter, going far in insisting that Jones is a victim of mainstream institutions and make him a free speech martyr. This is far from the truth of course, but it’s a contingent that should be explored soberly. Reversing the phenomenon of Infowars and radicalisation will take a lot of effort. The battle is not over.
Movie Review: Lightyears behind
Until now, I have avoided watching Lightyear, the prequel and movie-within-the-movie about the beloved character from the Toy Story movies. Detractors of Disney were gloating about how it failed because it got woke, following a small glimpse of the same-sex couple whose granddaughter happens to be the new leader of the team, while Buzz Lightyear (the person) is emasculated throughout the film. It is pitted against Top Gun Maverick in how not to make a legacyquel because both films take diametrically opposite perspectives on how to take existing IP and turn it into a reflection-thon. (That would be an essay for another time). I would like to remind people that a culture war doesn’t automatically determine the financial performance of your film. But there are a few observations I like to make because it just undersells the banality of Lightyear.
First off, this is a movie that is about Andy being motivated to want a Buzz Lightyear toy because he watched the movie. In the first minute, it says that the movie is released in 1995, so does it imply that the Andy we know is a gullible child whose a plaything for the corporate entities producing these movies? Why recontextualise it as a pre-existing franchise, when Buzz Lightyear is already a fleshed-out character with issues of his own?
Second, the self-conflict surrounding Buzz Lightyear is nothing new. In the first movie, Lightyear doesn’t realize that he is a toy until he tries to fly himself. That identity crisis is repeated in the subsequent entries, but it doesn’t form into the predominant conflict. But the epiphany of him ultimately knowing his destiny as a plastic piece of merchandise has a vastly different treatment in contrast to the Lightyear that just beats himself up. Compare the bit where he goes full Mrs Nesbitt. It accomplished the creepiness and shame of one’s self, but it’s also made funny, thanks to Tim Allen’s voice performance. Compare that to Chris Evans, whose grittiness and cynicism dampen the character into the generic basics of forgettable sci-fi of the past and present.
Third, the bleakness of Lightyear and the need to mature itself is nothing new for Pixar. When Buzz failed every attempt to pull off a hyper-speed test drive, it reminded me of the famous montage in Up where we see Ellie and Carl age up until to her death. The stakes are there; the couple wants to have a vacation because they dream about being adventurers when they were kids. Once it reaches the crescendo, it is utterly devastating. Or take a look at The Incredibles, which has a lot of dark moments, but is still full of life, because, at the end of the day, it aims to be a simple superhero movie that gives room for lighter fare. The message of Lightyear is a solid one, which is don’t fixate on one mistake because you’ll become an obstacle to yourself. Except there is no underlying glory behind Buzz, and he only got better at being a team player because he leads a group of characters who are inexperienced, one of whom is the granddaughter of his colleague so scared of going into space. Who are we supposed to be rooting for?
The frequency of movie discourse deducing the execution of the movie to what it represents, rather than the methods at hand, is sadly high. And what’s underplayed about the critique of Lightyear’s lifeless vehicle for consumerism is that it is rather shameless about it. We are only made to assume that Andy wanted the toy, rather than seeing the whole thing because it was already there in Toy Story. It’s juvenile to suggest that a sequel to a property that you cherish highly ‘ruined your childhood,’ but it betrays a lot of the ethos that made Pixar special and what values a lot of people who grew up with Toy Story learnt. It’s a matter of doing things properly and much of it is done without style.
You Must Watch This: In The Family (2012)
In a better world, In The Family would be the crown of modern American indie cinema. It is the directorial debut of Patrick Wang, about a gay man named Joey who tries to get custody of his child after his partner Cody died in a terrible car accident. It clocks in at three hours long, but the pacing is precise and efficient, and it’s worth it. Wang’s direction echoes a lot of Ozu and Edward Yang, with some scenes that genuinely capture what Joey is feeling. One can argue that the conflict against him is classic homophobia; a man stumbles into the life of a man and his biological son, with the presumption that he tries to step in without their permission. Gay or straight, there is always a way to define what a “good man” is, but one can all agree that if he’s a great father to his child, then he would be one. But the law does not agree, so he has to rely on the testimony of friends of the family to support him. Wang’s performance is so wonderful that the whole ordeal, told in flashbacks, is really genuine and believable. The legal depositions that he is involved in will infuriate you and that is part of how the story is constructed here.
ICYMI:
I interviewed Matthew Continetti, the author of The Right, where we talked about the book and Sweet Smell of Success, which is one of the great journalistic noirs of the 50s. I have a longer and uncut version for paid subscribers that delves deeper into The Right, where I ask him this important question:
Who do you think is the most influential conservative figure in the 21st century, barring Trump (but also explaining why he rose)? My pick would be Andrew Breitbart because he knows that conservative tensions with mainstream media are perpetual, hence he took advantage of news cycles that no one else would. He brought institutions like ACORN and figures like Anthony Weiner down to their knees and he revelled in it.
My first choice would be George W. Bush since his mistakes helped usher in the populist revolt that continues to roil the GOP.
My second choice would be Peter Thiel for seeding many of the contrarian ideas and institutions of this latest New Right.
My third choice would be a figure such as Joe Rogan, Jordan Peterson, and Ben Shapiro whose podcasts and appearances have shaped the minds of the rising generation.