How American Airlines and Hollywood
Underestimate and Insult
I flew on American Airlines from
Chicago to London.
Along the way, they played one film and
one TV series. In the guise of entertainment, they submitted us to
false emotions of the most extreme variety.
The journey began with redundant „calm“
music, accompanied by nature scenes which some idiot apparently
thinks would be restful. For me it was
a little annoying and silly. What do they think I am? I'm supposed to be frightened because I'm flying? So, I need pictures of mountains, lakes, beaches, deserts? I do? All I could think was: I don't want to be there.
Then, to make matters worse, there was
an entertainment item which someone might
call a „feature film“. I would
call it an overly long gladitorial spectacle which was a waste
of money and human resources, an item
which dredged up every conceivable visual cliche,
and seemed to encourage the thought
that a true hero must suffer an extraodinary amount of physical pain,
and even torture. (Someone might say this is sort of a
“reverse-Guantanamo”
phenomenon. The USA government would like us to believe that
anyone in Guantanamo deserved whatever they got; the inverse is that
heroes who don't desere it will, in this brave new world, get what
bad guys deserve---all for a nobler cause, to be sure.) As torture
is now considered an acceptable government policy, heroes
must expect to endure torture. To be sure, it was only the “bad
guys“ that inflicted pain upon the hero in this film, but the
camera was too happy to let us share the hero's pain. But, anyway,
there was a miraculous recovery after the most unbelievable torture.
The film featured a bearded man who was
very good at furrowing his brows
during close-ups. I
was, in fact, amazed at the number of close ups which seemed to
consist in the hero or his allies frowning or looking worried, worried gazes exchanged.
Otherwise, the hero's other claim to fame was his evident visits to the gym.
In many scenes he had no shirt. Of course, I envied his strength and his power to attract pretty young women. Indeed, I may have to visit the gym soon.
The film was one cliche after another:
exotic Japanese girls and the Japanese mafia, explosions, Ninja
fighters, etc. The film was also sadistic and unrealistic.
Of course, I watched it only in parts,
and without sound; so you may say I am unfair. I say that I would
have preferred not to watch it at all. But when I travel, I become
tired quickly, and the eyes naturally and automatically focus on the
moving images on the screens.
I must emphasize the sadism of the
film. At one point the hero had been shot in the back
with small darts or arrows with wires
or long cords attached to them as much as twenty times, and he kept
moving forward, porcupine like. I have never seen anything so
sadistic in my life. (I've not seen a certain recent depiction of Christ's crucifixion.)
What, really, is such a film about?
The lone strong man who protects women? One man against many? No,
he was aided by the two women.
I neglect the themes of bio-high-tech,
regeneration of the old, and the persistence of evil. Of course,
there had to be fancy machines to enhance the strength of the hero.
Of course, And, indeed, the greatest stupidity was that he had the
power to grow metal spikes out of his fingers. I mean: Really! Are
audiences so stupid? They need a hero with a special power or a
special car? Otherwise we would not be able to identify him as the hero? As a matter of fact, I believe I've heard that any strength your arms may possess is much less than the strength of your legs
possess—so, isn't it stupid that the hero only fights with his
hands and his steel finger-extensions? Silliness that is not for
adults or educated young people.
Sadistic and pointless---and totally
unrealistic.... But the good guy won, in the end---even if
there was a (supposedly) clever
reversal in the final scene. (Yes, I think I could tell that even without dialogue.)
I was honestly surprised that no one
complained about the low quality of the movie being shown.
I could not believe that my fellow
passengers took this as normal.
To make things worse, the "feature film" was followed by what I imagine was a young
person's version of this nonsense with more magic.
In the young person's version---I think
a TV series, but I can't be sure---a group of young friends have to
do battle with people who are dressed like Romans. There is lots of fighting and magic. They fly away as they are transposed into dust or smoke or something like that. I suppose it is supposed to be visually appealing; but here I am speculating.
The images in both of these shows were
trite and cliched. Should I suppose that I missed something because
I did not hear the dialogue? Of course, I missed something. Just as
the flight made me miss out on sleep and wholesome food. Whenever I
travel I become constipated, a problem I don't have when I
do my own cooking. And my memories of those entertainments are
themselves something I would like to expel.
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