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    And the loser is … politics: why was this year’s Oscars so reluctant?

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    Twenty-two years ago, the last time Adrien Brody won the Academy award for best actor, film-maker Michael Moore accepted his own Oscar for Bowling for Columbine, a documentary about America’s obsession with guns, by offering a preview of sorts of his next feature, Fahrenheit 9/11. He decried then president George W Bush as “fictitious” (alluding to his fishy, supreme court-assisted election win a year and a half earlier) and excoriated the Bush administration for sending the United States to war with Iraq – just three days earlier, in fact – for “fictitious reasons”. It was received with a mixture of applause and boos, probably the most memorable moment of the night, give or take Brody planting a kiss on Halle Berry.Two years later, when Fahrenheit 9/11 might have been similarly honored (and almost certainly would have been, as it became the highest-grossing non-music doc ever in the US, a record it still holds after two decades), Moore wasn’t on stage. Months earlier, he had decided not to submit his movie for consideration, nominally because he didn’t feel like he needed to steal focus from other, less widely seen docs, and also because he was negotiating an airing of the film on TV, which would scotch its eligibility anyway. By the time the Oscars rolled around, however, the presidential election Moore had hoped to affect with that television airing was long over; Bush won again, and maybe a documentary designed to prevent this from happening wouldn’t have seemed worth all the fuss, anyway. The administration’s worst policies were still in place, but protesting them seemed less urgent. Better to just put on a fun show.Politically speaking, this year’s 97th Academy Awards felt more like that ceremony 20 years ago: we lost; let’s forget about it. But considering that the second Trump administration is embarking upon the most destructive and illegal government purge seen in modern US history while also shifting alliances toward strongman figures overseas, it felt conspicuous that it was barely commented upon, beyond host Conan O’Brien’s joke that Anora was well-received because it featured a character actually standing up to Russians. Even this felt more like a typical (if barbed) current-events laugh than a direct rebuke of fascism, a remnant of Brien’s dutiful-late-night-monologue days.Brody, returning to the stage for his work in The Brutalist and lacking Berry to clinch (though she did find him on the red carpet for a revenge smooch), rambled on about career pitfalls, the less glamorous side of acting, and … what was he on about, exactly? Nevertheless, he shushed the encroaching orchestra for an emotional crescendo that never quite arrived. Through this record-setting speech, literally the longest in Oscar history, Brody never seemed to land on anything in particular to say; he thanked his co-stars and his partner and his parents, like most people do, but on a more roundabout path. The closest he came to making a bigger-picture statement was a sort of mealy-mouthed pro-peace, pro-tolerance lip service that’s intentionally difficult to ascribe to any particular things happening in the real world (perhaps in keeping with the ambiguities of The Brutalist, the thorny but sometimes elusive movie he won for).That’s not to put the lack of politics at the Oscars purely on Brody – or even to say that politics at the Oscars make a bit of difference beyond burnishing their self-styled reputation as an important event, and perhaps confirming some rightwingers’ perception of Hollywood as a haven for condescending far-left elites. Of course, the political makeup of Hollywood is more complicated than that; for one thing, it’s collectively about as revolutionary as the most entrenched centrist Democrats. (In New York terms: more Schumer than AOC.) But this also means that anything to the left of “We love you, Dear President Trump” will be received in certain corners as leftist rhetoric anyway. In other words, there’s nothing anyone can say – including nothing itself – that will turn the event into the “apolitical” ideal rightwingers claim to long for. As such, it was a little bit strange to see this particular time, of all times, being treated like business as usual. No one famous had anything more specific than allusions to Trump and other sources of global discord, beyond Daryl Hannah saying briefly supportive words about Ukraine in the wake of their president’s disastrous encounter with Trump’s bulldozing?Admittedly, these gestures don’t necessarily affect much, if any, change. In the past, some of them have been downright clumsy or self-important. But movies are about image-making, and at a time when so much rightwing radicalism is being passed off as normal, there were plenty of opportunities to refute that narrative, rather than just referring vaguely to “divisive” times. Though there’s something charming about Sean Baker’s single-issue campaigning on behalf of the theatrical experience, certainly an appropriate topic to address at the Academy Awards, it’s also a bit mordantly funny that the director of Anora, one of the more provocative best picture winners in recent history, has so little appetite for controversy (regardless of his much-discussed-online Twitter habits). And for those addicted to bragging about their 65-inch TVs providing a better experience than a giant movie screen, “take your kids to the movies for real” could still read as controversial anyway.View image in fullscreenPerhaps appropriately, the most political moment of the night was in Moore’s old category, best documentary feature. The Academy awarded No Other Land, a film that sounds, on paper, like an act of healing: it was made by a collective of both Palestinians and Israelis, about the friendship between a Palestinian activist and a Jewish Israeli journalist. But the movie is also about the displacement of the Palestinian people by Israel, and its pro-Palestine point of view was considered radioactive enough that (despite months of acclaim and awards) it hasn’t yet secured official US distribution, instead booking its showings through its PR handlers. The Academy, not always known for their bold choices in this category, will most assuredly bring more eyes and ears to No Other Land, more so even than the platform the film-makers received as winners on the telecast.That’s ultimately the kind of Oscar politics that can make a difference; any movie fan should know that actions do often speak louder than words (or, specifically: movies are louder, and more memorable, than most acceptance speeches). Yet it’s still possible to take something chilling away from this year’s ceremony: “politicizing” the Oscars with a speech is known as something that typically has no greater consequence than, well, more complaints about politicizing the Oscars. Yet even with the risk far lower than, say, anyone who works for the government right now, most were too cowed, or maybe too exhausted, to bother speaking up. Actions speak louder, but the silence can still be pretty deafening. More

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      Afflicted with liberal angst in the age of Trump? Take a leaf from Bridget Jones’s diary | Rafael Behr

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      When future generations study creative works that capture the unsettled spirit of our age, they might easily neglect Bridget Jones 4: Mad About the Boy. The movie isn’t about the historical inflection point that coincides with its release. It doesn’t feature Donald Trump, his vandalism of US democracy or his dissolution of the transatlantic alliance. Such things are not the stuff of romantic comedy. Also, they hadn’t yet happened in 2013, when Helen Fielding wrote the book on which the film is based.But the lack of intentional allegory doesn’t prevent us projecting one on to the story. Or maybe it was just me, experiencing a sentimental hallucination induced by events outside the cinema. Indulge me a moment (and forgive any plot spoilers), as I explain.The first three volumes of the Jones diaries are picaresque chronicles of professional and sexual misadventure that resolve themselves in the reassuring arms of Mark Darcy, a human rights barrister: stolid, emotionally reticent, honourable and kind. That on-and-off romance sweeps Bridget from twentysomething anxiety to thirtysomething neurosis; from post-adolescent insecurity to early midlife crisis, unplanned pregnancy and, in the happy ending, marriage.Allowing for some chronological elasticity (with lags between books being written and adapted for cinema), Jones’s relationship with Darcy unfolds against a political and economic backdrop that hindsight reveals to be exceptionally benign. It is that period sometimes called the Great Moderation: roughly from the fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989 to the global financial crisis in 2007-09.Democracy sprawled eastwards across Europe. Captive peoples were liberated from communist dictatorship. The dissolution of the Soviet threat generated a “peace dividend” for western governments, permitting a diversion of budget resources from defence to social spending.There was a viable Middle East peace process. In 1993, Yitzhak Rabin and Yasser Arafat shook hands over the Oslo accords on the White House lawn. Apartheid was dismantled in South Africa, which held its first free, multiracial elections in 1994. The Good Friday agreement brought peace to Northern Ireland in 1998. The UK was then well into an economic boom that had another nine years still to run.View image in fullscreenLondon was basking in its status as capital of “Cool Britannia” – a powerhouse of art, music and self-congratulation. This was the context in which Bridget Jones’s diary first appeared as a weekly newspaper column in 1995. Her avid readership was the same generation that hit their young adult stride in that bright springtime of liberal metropolitan complacency.Jones was not very political, which made her an eloquent exponent of the zeitgeist. “It is perfectly obvious that Labour stands for sharing, kindness, gays, single mothers and Nelson Mandela,” she wrote on the eve of Tony Blair’s 1997 landslide election victory. The Tories were “braying bossy men having affairs with everyone shag shag shag left right and centre and going to the Ritz in Paris then telling all the presenters off on the Today programme.”We know also from a one-off column published in 2019 that Jones was a remainer in the Brexit culture wars. To break the legislative deadlock in parliament, she proposed that Queen Elizabeth, David Attenborough and Joanna Lumley join forces, urging the nation to reconsider the referendum question.It makes perfect sense that the love of Bridget’s life should be a distinguished lawyer who battles global injustice. It was a match made in the late 20th century, when human rights were a byword for all that was virtuous in western democracy. A career dedicated to their defence was the obvious device for a comic novelist wanting to signal intimidating levels of moral uprightness in a character. (It is often said that Darcy was modelled on a younger Keir Starmer. Fielding acknowledges uncanny likenesses in profession and manner, while insisting they are coincidental.)In the opening minutes of Mad About the Boy, we learn that Darcy is dead. He was killed in the line of duty, of course, on a humanitarian mission overseas. His widow is struggling to restart her life and raise two children alone.If, like me, you succumb easily to cinematic schmaltz, this is already an affecting scenario. What I found unexpectedly poignant was the thought that Darcy’s untimely death also functions as a metaphor for the demise of political certainties that defined the world in which Bridget Jones’s generation came of age. Her heartbreak is a parable of political bereavement, describing liberal angst at the sudden unravelling of institutional and legal norms underpinning European security. (Plus sex and jokes.)In the week that the movie was released, the US president reached over the heads of his country’s former Nato allies to embrace Vladimir Putin. He sketched the outline of a deal to end the war in Ukraine that was part territorial capitulation to the aggressor, part gangster extortion – offering Kyiv protection in exchange for mineral wealth. Vice-president JD Vance gave an ominously unhinged speech at the Munich security conference. He claimed that freedom is more imperilled by imaginary culture-war spectres haunting European democracies than it is by a Russian dictator whose tanks are churning up the sovereignty of a neighbouring state.In case of any lingering doubt that the Trump regime has authoritarian ambitions, the president also asserted on social media last week that “he who saves his country does not violate any law”. It is a signal that judges, courts and constitution should all be subordinate to a leader whose personal preference is synonymous with the national interest. Coming from the man who fomented insurrection to overturn the 2020 election, Trump’s aphorism should be read as a hint that the spirit of Maga patriotism is vested in thugs and militias, not statutes.This was the advertised programme. None of it should surprise the US’s allies. But it was easier to hope there might be momentum in the old order than to work out how to live in the new one. Now European leaders are scrambling to convene summits, scraping the sides of their depleted defence budgets, flexing atrophied military muscle in panicky gestures of continental solidarity.There is no going back to Darcy’s world. The idea that human rights are universal and the principle that no one is above the law are losing ground to older axioms – big nations extract tribute from smaller ones; a strongman ruler makes the rules.Pained by these existential challenges, it is hard not to reach for the anaesthetic balm of nostalgia, mythologising the late 90s and early 21st century as a golden age of liberal democratic primacy. In reality, that was a cosy bubble around one generation in one corner of the world: a historical fluke. To move on, we have to get through denial, anger and the other stages of grief to acceptance. We need to recognise that we live for the foreseeable future in a world without a friend in the White House, and that this points to a destiny for Britain much closer to Europe.And we need politicians who will dare to say as much aloud. This, too, is something that occurred to me as I left the cinema last weekend. Maybe if we had leaders capable of expressing the magnitude of the crisis, and rising to the challenge, I wouldn’t have to look for messages of solace between the lines of Bridget Jones’s diary.

      Rafael Behr is a Guardian columnist More

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      Lessons for Elon Musk from the original Doge | Brief letters

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      As Elon Musk’s unelected “Doge” troops slash and burn US federal departments (Elon Musk appears with Trump and tries to claim ‘Doge’ team is transparent, 12 February), it is ironic to note that the Doges of ancient Venice were always elected, and by a process that was designed to avoid wealthy families taking too much power.John JacobsAlton, Hampshire I agree with your correspondents about the difficulty of hearing the lyrics in musicals (Letters, 13 February), but there’s little mention of the problem in cinemas, where conversations are drowned out by background music. In the recent film about Bob Dylan, Timothée Chalamet perfectly captured the musician’s mumble. What words he actually said remain A Complete Unknown.Joanna RimmerNewcastle upon Tyne Re the letters on analogue photography (14 February), there is a good compromise. I use a digital camera, which means I can go “snap happy”. Then I can look at all the images, select what I want and get them printed.Peter ButlerRushden, Northamptonshire I’m not entirely convinced that the Guardian style guide does a lot for women’s rights in advising that actresses should always be called actors (Editorial, 14 February). Why not the other way around?John OwensStockport, Greater Manchester My school report read: “Angela has influence, unfortunately in the wrong direction.” I became a probation officer (Letters, 16 February).Angela GlendenningNewcastle-under-Lyme, Staffordshire More

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      ‘Another woke disaster from Hollywood!’ How Captain America joined the culture wars

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      Of all the times to recast the most iconically American comic-book character with a Black actor and then pit him against a violently angry supervillain with an unnaturally reddish skin tone, who also happens to be the new US president … Sorry if that’s a spoiler, but it is in the trailer for the new Captain America: Brave New World, just released into a tumultuous Trump-run America that’s itching for another culture war.If Marvel was looking for some attention to reignite its beleaguered movie franchise, it seems to have found it – but not necessarily the good kind. If nothing else, the image of a raging red superbeing rising up from behind the presidential podium and then trashing the White House is sure to provoke a reaction. As Anthony Mackie’s Sam Wilson takes up the star-spangled shield passed on to him by Chris Evans’ Steve Rogers, his casting has already incensed a certain bracket of social media: “The new Captain America! DEI hire!”; “Sounds like another woke disaster from Hollywood”; “Boy, did you not get the memo? America just voted for Trump – your film is dead on arrival.” It’s a wonder Trump hasn’t signed an executive order banning the film yet.Mackie gave his adversaries even more ammunition a couple of weeks ago when he told the Italian press: “To me Captain America represents a lot of different things and I don’t think the term ‘America’ should be one of those representations.” Again, you can imagine the reactions – even if, as fans pointed out, Mackie’s predecessor in the role, Chris Evans, made very similar comments when he was promoting Captain America: “I’m not trying to get too lost in the American side of it. This isn’t a flag-waving movie,” Evans said in 2011. Mackie had to walk back his comments the next day on Instagram: “Let me be clear about this: I’m a proud American and taking on the shield of a hero like Cap is the honour of a lifetime.”These are not the only battles the new Captain America finds itself caught up in. Attention has also focused on Ruth Bat-Seraph, aka Sabra, a minor character in the movie played by Israeli actor Shira Haas. In the original comics, Sabra was “the first Israeli superhero”; a mutant with superpowers who was formerly a Mossad agent. She’s had a bit of a makeover for the movie: no longer a mutant or a Mossad agent but very much a combat-ready operative. In a joint letter, some Palestinian cultural groups complained: “By reviving this racist character in any form, Marvel is promoting Israel’s brutal oppression of Palestinians.” They have called for a boycott of the movie, and pro-Palestinian protesters picketed the Hollywood premiere this Tuesday, holding up signs saying things such as “Disney supports genocide” – again, necessarily not the good kind of attention.View image in fullscreenAs if that weren’t enough, Brave New World has been plagued by reports of rewrites and reshoots, as well as recastings. William Hurt, who was set to play the US president, Thaddeus Ross, died in 2022 and had to be replaced by Harrison Ford. It was originally slated for release in May 2024. According to one insider, late last year it had gone through three rounds of test screenings and was still getting negative feedback. The film-makers have denied this, although director Julius Onah acknowledged: “Every movie of this scale has additional photography baked into the creative process. There are things you’re going to refine and the story is going to evolve.”Without those delays, the movie might well have come out in the late Biden era, rather than the febrile first few weeks of Trump 2.0. At least they changed the title – the original, Captain America: New World Order might have been too much for the conspiracy theorists to handle.It was somehow inevitable that all this would befall Captain America, rather than any other superhero. He’s always been the moral conscience of the Marvel universe, and by extension, the nation. The character was created by Jewish writers Jack Kirby and Joe Simon in 1940, primarily as a wartime propaganda tool – the US actually entered the war a year later, so perhaps it worked. The cover of issue #1, showing Captain America socking Adolf Hitler on the jaw, told you exactly where his loyalties lay. Now, 85 years later, we find him socking the fictional US president in the jaw instead. And this at a time when the real-life president is happily dining with white supremacists and Nazi sympathisers such as Nick Fuentes and Kanye West (whose recent X post declaring “I’m a Nazi” ought to clear up any ambiguity). Not to mention Trump’s ubiquitous righthand troll Elon Musk, who has done nothing at all to correct impressions that he gave a Nazi salute at Trump’s inauguration a few weeks ago. It leaves you wondering who the real good guys are.View image in fullscreenTime and again, it’s been down to Captain America to figure that out. While other Marvel movies have gadded about in weightless fantasy realms (Thor, Guardians of the Galaxy, Deadpool), the Captain America movies have often reflected off-screen political reality – and despite his ludicrously patriotic get-up (often worn by Trump supporters, or Photoshopped on to Trump himself), Cap has never been afraid to turn against his own government.It’s worth recapping the saga so far. Origin movie Captain America: The First Avenger, released in 2011, explained how weedy army recruit Steve Rogers (Evans) was given an experimental superhero-creating serum in the 1940s, and riffed on his deployment as a wartime propaganda mascot. Things got interesting with 2014’s The Winter Soldier, in which Rogers is thawed out in the present day and finds the US about to instate a global surveillance regime that would predict and preemptively eliminate threats. This was the era of the Edward Snowden leaks, so the paranoid conspiracy element was not too difficult to swallow. But good old Cap wasn’t having it: “This isn’t freedom – it’s fear,” he said, stepping away from his quasi-military role. He was right: it later transpired that the US government had been infiltrated by the neo-Nazi organisation Hydra – again, a concept that’s no longer too difficult to swallow.And by his side in his fight to de-Nazify the government was Mackie’s character, Sam Wilson, aka Falcon, a modern-day Iraq war veteran who befriended Rogers. In 2016’s Captain America: Civil War, Rogers and Wilson again fell out with the authorities, refusing to agree to UN oversight of “enhanced individuals” – those with superpowers. They trusted their own judgment above that of the politicians.View image in fullscreen2019’s all-conquering Avengers: Endgame culminated with Evans’ Captain America retiring, and passing on his shield to Mackie’s Falcon. After that the saga headed into race politics and Black history – possibly blown in that direction by the cultural winds post-Black Lives Matter. In his small-screen spin-off Falcon and the Winter Soldier, Falcon hands the shield back to the government – “It feels like it belongs to someone else,” he says. Not only does he deem himself unworthy, his patriotism to a country that enslaved and discriminated against his forebears is understandably conflicted. Another Black character tells him: “They will never let a Black man be Captain America, and even if they did, no self-respecting Black man would ever want to be.” Sure enough, a new, white Captain America is anointed: John Walker, played by Wyatt Russell. But to cut a long story short, it turns out he’s unworthy, and Wilson ultimately winds up with the shield again.Politics were very much in the minds of the Russo brothers, who jointly directed Winter Soldier, Civil War, Avengers: Infinity War and Avengers: Endgame. “Those movies are very much about what went on in this country over the past four years,” Joe Russo told me in 2021. “Some of the worst people were being attracted to politics and were representing us collectively … We believed strongly that the reach in those movies was so significant that they could be influential in helping people potentially make better decisions. We thought that they were a really powerful tool, at exactly the right time.”Brave New World should at least satisfy fans who wanted a political action thriller along the lines of Winter Soldier, with no space people turning up from parallel universes. Mackie’s fledgling Cap initially agrees to work with Ford’s new president, but before long, he’s disobeying orders and going rogue once again to investigate a conspiracy. Despite the raging Hulk “reveal”, and the president surviving an assassination attempt, Ford’s character is not all that Trump-like: he cares about international cooperation, he has a Black female head of security, and he even gets on an exercise bike on Air Force One. Depending on how you see it, this is either a bullet dodged or a punch pulled. This president does, however, outsource tech and military innovation to a shifty, unbiddable genius scientist who’s described as “his own personal thinktank” – remind you of anyone?There’s no telling how any of this will play in today’s movie landscape. Marvel movies have been at the vanguard of Hollywood representation in recent years but this has not translated into box-office success lately. Recent movie outings such as The Eternals and The Marvels – neither of which were directed by or centred on white men – were met with opposition by some fans (especially the vehement “Everything is woke” brigade), but also by some critics (for not being very good). Meanwhile, Marvel’s franchise-milking small-screen offshoots (Loki, Wandavision, Ms Marvel, She-Hulk, etc) and confusing “multiverse” storylines have turned off even more viewers. It’s telling that Marvel’s only recent box-office success was the more flip and irreverent Deadpool & Wolverine (led by two white guys).View image in fullscreenSo perhaps the message is: nobody’s in the mood for superheroes getting too real and political any more, and the era of applauding movies for representation has been killed by Trump’s anti-DEI edicts. Marvel seems to be hedging its bets: next up, in April, is Thunderbolts – the first outing for a new bunch of (overwhelmingly white) superhero misfits, including Florence Pugh and Wyatt Russell’s John Walker.But ultimately, Mackie was right when he said Captain America was not really about “America”. Unlike the cosplaying Trump supporters, he’s more loyal to American values than to the flag, and over his long history, he’s often had to remind the nation what those values are. In one comic-book story (What If … #44), 1940s Captain America wakes up in 1984, where he finds a fascist “America first” president who is persecuting minorities and promising to make America great again. Cap lays it down in no uncertain terms: “Without its ideals – its commitment to the freedom of all men, America is a piece of trash! I fought Adolf Hitler not because America was great, but because it was fragile! I knew that liberty could as easily be snuffed out here as in Nazi Germany!” Maybe they can use that storyline for the next movie, if there is one. More

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      ‘I feel I’ve upset a few people over the years’: actor Brian Cox on overrated co-stars, charmless politicians and the joy of smoking weed

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      As I leave the office, my editor wishes me luck. “Hope he’s not too grumpy!” she says. A moment later, the deputy editor asks where I’m off to. To see Brian Cox, the actor, I say. “Oh!” she says, with a rather-you-than-me look. “Hope he’s not too grumpy!”Cox has played grumpy for going on 60 years. All sorts of grumpiness – idiot grumpy (independent candidate Bob Servant in the TV comedy of the same name), world-weary grumpy (school principal Dr Nelson Guggenheim in Wes Anderson’s film Rushmore), psychopathic grumpy (the first movie incarnation of Hannibal Lecter in Manhunter), egomaniacal grumpy (Robert McKee in Spike Jonze’s Adaptation) and, of course, brutal grumpy as media mogul Logan Roy in the TV series Succession. In recent years, he has often appeared on chatshows being grumpy about the state of the world. In 2022, he published his hugely entertaining memoirs, in which he was grumpy about method acting, useless directors, vain thesps, useless politicians, the church, capitalism, cancel culture, you name it. He was also fabulously indiscreet – Steven Seagal, whom he worked with on The Glimmer Man, is “as ludicrous in real life as he appears on screen”, Johnny Depp is “so overblown, so overrated”, Tarantino’s work is “meretricious”, Edward Norton is “a nice lad, but a bit of a pain in the arse because he fancies himself as a writer-director”, while Michael Caton-Jones, who directed him in Rob Roy, is a “complete arsehole”.‘I feel I’ve upset a few people over the years,” Cox says with an angelic smile. “The problem is, I can be quite a loudmouth. Sometimes I have been fairly volatile, and I think, ‘Why the fuck did you say that?’” He’s looking back over his epic career. “There’s a lot of stuff I’ve done which I look at and think, ‘That was crap.’” But today’s not the time for negativity. “No, I’m not going to go down that road.”Blimey, I say, we’re going to have to out you as a diplomat? He laughs – a lovely youthful chuckle. “Yes! You can out me as a diplomat!” he says enthusiastically. The thing is, he adds, certain people are overrated. We’re talking about his memoirs, and the unflinching references to the likes of Depp and Seagal. “But then they probably think they’re overrated as well. So I’m not saying anything they don’t think anyway.”View image in fullscreenWe meet at a hotel in London’s West End, close to the Haymarket theatre where he’s rehearsing The Score, about the ageing Bach, directed by Trevor Nunn. Cox stars in the play opposite his wife, Nicole Ansari-Cox, who is playing his stage wife. Cox looks so dapper in 50 shades of brown – brogues, socks, checked trousers and jacket, all offset with a purple tie. As a young man, he looked older than his years – a squat, Sherman tank of a man made for middle age. Now, at 78, with snow-white hair and a goatee, he looks surprisingly youthful.I ask him why he so often gets cast as grumps. He holds his hands up, nonplussed. Is it because he is one? “No, I’m not like that at all. It’s the antithesis of who I am, actually.” He stops to think about it. “No, that’s not entirely true. Of course, I get grumpy. Particularly about politics, I get very grumpy. A lot of that makes me angry. The failure of the Labour party in particular.” Pause. “But I don’t want to get into that.” Another pause. “Listen, I could go on for ages.” And another.One, two, three. And he’s off. “I don’t know why the Labour party is called the Labour party. It’s not labour orientated. I just think … ”He exhales with loud disappointment. “Keir Hardie, the guy who started it all, was an extraordinary man. And it was a very inclusive thing he was after – social justice. And this lot coming in now, they’re not exercising social justice. It’s true that the last lot left us in deep shit, so there’s a lot of stuff they’ve got to do, but they’ve got to be a bit canny about it in order not to alienate the folk. And Starmer is not exactly the most charming of individuals. He’s not Mr Charm. He’s not got the thing Tony Blair had, which served him brilliantly till hubris got the better of him. Starmer is minus one on that score.” Nor does he rate Rachel Reeves, the chancellor, on the charm front. “She’s had a charm bypass. There’s no question.” He laughs again. But he’s worried – for Scotland, for Britain, for Europe, for the world.Cox has been campaigning with the group Independent Age against the scrapping of the winter fuel payments for pensioners who aren’t on certain benefits, urging older people to check whether they are eligible for pension credit. “I just think it’s not on. It’s unjust. And means testing?” He hisses the word with contempt. “Means testing is something they did in the 30s. And I find that … I don’t know.” He stops, lost for words. “I can’t get with it at all.”View image in fullscreenHe loves his politics. For many years, he was a Labour loyalist. “I was a big Labour man. I was the voice of Labour for the 1997 campaign.” Eventually, he fell out with Blair over Iraq. As for Corbyn, he says, he was not cut out to be a leader. “Jeremy Corbyn is a great guy, don’t get me wrong, but he’s a professional backbencher. He’s a naysayer. And you can’t just be a naysayer, you’ve got to come up with something else in its place. That’s what progress is about.”And just to show he’s no naysayer, he’ll name the person most suited to the job. “I was all for Andy Burnham.” Unfortunately, he says, Burnham is mayor of Greater Manchester rather than a Labour MP. “But what he’s done in Manchester is phenomenal. And he’s keen on the idea that I’m keen on, which is a federal Britain. I believe the way we will survive and come out of the fucking shite that we’ve been in, and keep regurgitating again and again, is by being a federal society where each country has its own say. You can’t separate these islands off, but we’ve got to come together on a federal basis. Not as subjects.”Cox had a fascinating childhood, and is still exploring how it shaped him. He was born in Dundee, to observant Catholic parents. He was the youngest of five siblings – his oldest sister was 17 years his senior. His father, Charles, known as Chic, ran a grocer’s in a deprived part of Dundee; his mother was a spinner in the jute mills. Chic was a kind, sociable man who sold stuff on tick to the needy. “We lived in a tenement, and my dad had the grocer’s shop for 25 years, so he was lower middle class. Not working class.” The flat had two bedrooms – the three girls slept in one room in a single bed, his parents slept in the other, while Cox and his older brother bedded down in the living room.There were three landmarks within a street of where they lived – the church, the library and the cinema. He went to the church because he had to, the library because he wanted to, and the cinema because he was smitten. “My first love was cinema. There were 21 cinemas in my hometown, and I visited every single one of them.” From the age of six, he went by himself. First, he fell for Jerry Lewis and Dean Martin’s slapstick, then, by the age of nine, he was watching serious films about corruption and thwarted ambition such as On the Waterfront. There was no question, he says, that he would become an actor. “I knew this was my trade.”View image in fullscreenWere there any actors he knew, in the family or among friends? “No, but there were performers.” He looks at the biscuit next to his coffee. “D’you want it? I’m diabetic so I can’t eat it. Every Hogmanay the flat was packed with 70 people and I’d be summoned at 1am to perform.” How old was he? “I was three.” Was he the only one summoned? “No, everybody was. My second eldest sister, May, had a great voice. I’d do Al Jolson impersonations. It was weird for a wee boy to sing “Climb up on my knee. Sonny Boy, though you’re only three”! I always remember the effect on the room. There’s something about the room when it’s focused on something. The dynamic changes. Human beings get into a harmony with one another. It’s a wonderful feeling, and I thought, I want to be a part of that.”When he was eight, his father died and his life was uprooted. They discovered that Chic had given so much away on tick, he had left the family in debt. His mother never recovered from his death and their new poverty, and she had severe mental health problems from then on. Cox was farmed out to his three sisters. He left school at 15 and went to work at Dundee Repertory, and at the age of 17 went to England to study at the London Academy of Music and Dramatic Art.“The 60s were amazing. It was the time of social mobility, when you were welcomed. When I came to drama school, people made it obvious they were happy that I was there. I felt so liberated. London to me has always represented freedom. I loved the sense that I was allowed to be who I was and celebrated for coming from my class.” Does he think he would have a chance of making it nowadays, coming from his background? “No, I wouldn’t. The conditions are so different now.”He really hoped to be an American movie actor, but of course that was impossible. So he settled for being a British theatre actor. And this is where his identity started to fragment. He wanted to be the best he possibly could be in theatre, and that meant excelling in Shakespeare, and Shakespeare was unambiguously English. So Cox started to think of himself as British at best, possibly even a little bit English, and he became more and more divorced from his Scottishness. He moved away from his homeland physically and mentally.Ever since he fell out with Blairism, he has been reconnecting with his Scottishness – or more accurately his Celticness. He recently had a DNA test and discovered he is 88% Irish and 12% Scottish. And it makes sense to him now.View image in fullscreenCox campaigned for Scottish independence and became active in the Scottish National party. Did he ever consider going into politics? “Yes. Alex [Salmond] wanted me to stand as an SNP candidate. I just don’t believe in the word national. It’s got too many connotations. It should be called the Scottish Independence party. SIP.” Cox became close to Salmond, the SNP’s former leader who died in October. Salmond was a controversial figure, who was cleared of 12 charges of sexual assault in 2020, with one charge of sexual assault with intent to rape found not proven. “Alex wasn’t a saint by any stretch of the imagination, but his political thinking was quite brilliant. Probably the most brilliant we’ve had. He was a visionary. I saw a lot of Alex. He was great fun, a bon viveur.”Did he ever warn him about his behaviour? “I never got to that stage. I wish I had. Someone had asked me about his questionable relationship to women. I won’t go into the details. And I think that was problematic.” Was Salmond aware it was problematic? “He wasn’t a fool so he had to be aware of what was going on, but he got let off. He was never salacious in my company. I just liked his brilliance; his sense of the world.”One reason Cox wasn’t tempted by politics is that he has always loved his profession. Acting has been a calling; a vocation. Cox gave up on his Catholicism long ago because it made no sense to him. “If you want a real church, go to the theatre; that tells the truth. Or the cinema. Go and see the performing arts.” He talks about the great directors with awe, paying a special tribute to two who have passed on – Michael Elliott who directed him in a stage production of Moby Dick in 1984, and Lindsay Anderson, who cast him in In Celebration, his second film, in 1975, set in the Derbyshire mining town of Langwith, and also starring the great Alan Bates. “Michael Elliott and Lindsay Anderson were the two people who gave me standards – both were of Scottish extraction, it has to be said. It’s a sort of purity of vision. I loved working with both of them. I’ve still got Lindsay’s notes.”Cox, famously, can’t stand method acting. He believes it’s pointless, selfish, an enemy of the imagination and destroys the atmosphere for others on set. He has described the technique used by his Succession co-star Jeremy Strong, who plays one of his three children, as “fucking annoying”. But, today, the newly circumspect Cox would like to accentuate the positive. “He was wonderful to act with. I had no argument with Jeremy’s acting.” But? “He would be an even better actor if he just got rid of that so there would be much more inclusiveness in what he did.”Isn’t it a pain when you can’t have real conversations with a cast member because they are permanently in character? “Well, it’s not good for the ensemble. It creates hostility. That’s the problem.” Did he talk to Strong about it? “No, not in the way I would like to have talked to him, but it’s a very emotive subject for people who follow the Strasberg line.”View image in fullscreenCox is talking about Lee Strasberg, regarded as the father of method acting in America. Last year, Cox suggested that if Strong had been more relaxed about his technique it would have been helpful for the Succession cast: “Go back to your trailer and have a hit of marijuana, you know?” Does he hit the marijuana? “Oh yes,” he says. What does it do for him? “It relaxes me.” He says it was only in middle age that he discovered the joy of a spliff. He was introduced to it by the uncle of a former girlfriend. He does a Cockney wide boy impersonation of him. “He was staying with me, and I’d come home and say it’s difficult for me to switch off, and he said, ‘Have you ever tried the weed?’ I’d always been very against that because when I was young I thought drugs just obfuscated the career path. And probably it would have at that time. So he said, ‘Why don’t you try some weed?’ So I did, and I just thought, ‘Oh GOD! It’s just the best way to get rid of the day.’”Succession has made Cox more famous than he ever had been. A mixed blessing, he says. Beforehand, he would get stopped by people who recognised him, but didn’t know why. Now there’s no doubt. Strangers not only ask for selfies, they also beg him to tell them to fuck off Logan Roy style, which often he’s happy to do, with feeling.Looking back at earlier profiles, it’s an astonishing career progression. In the 1980s, when he won the Laurence Olivier award for best actor in a new play for Rat in the Skull, and Critics Circle award for Titus Andronicus and The Taming of the Shrew, we were told he was a latecomer to success. In his 70s, he has won a Golden Globe and been Emmy nominated three years on the trot for playing Succession’s dyspeptic media mogul, who some have compared to Rupert Murdoch. “There’s a lot of, ‘Oh Brian Cox, isn’t he doing well now?’” he says. “But I’ve done well my whole career. I’ve had a great career.”Succession has, however, given him opportunities that he might not otherwise have had. He has just finished directing his first movie. Glenrothan is a family saga about a whisky distillery, which he calls his love letter to Scotland. What he has learned most from the experience, he says, is that directing is the wrong word for the job. “I realised I’m not a director, but a curator.” What’s the difference? “Film is a communicative art, where you’re curating brilliant costume designs with brilliant set designs with a brilliant DP. It’s not you. You’re just gathering that together and organising it, rather than saying we must go there and do this and do that. Not me, me, me. I mean the film may be shite, but at least it’s shite on my terms.”He has worked alongside his wife, Nicole Ansari-Cox, before; he directed her in 2020 in Sinners, a play about a woman stoned for adultery. “I love directing her. Or even curating her! She’s great – so good, so open.” Before marrying Ansari-Cox, he had two children with the actor Caroline Burt, to whom he was married for 19 years. His oldest is the actor Alan Cox, now in his mid-50s, who played the young John Mortimer in the TV drama A Voyage Round My Father.Cox has straddled the classes over the years, and known both poverty and considerable wealth. Burt came from an upper middle class family, and they sent their children to prestigious public schools. He has often said he was lacking as a father first time round – impatient, absent. But now he’s not so sure. “I think that’s just to do with the fact that I got married so young first time. I was 21 and had my first kid at 24. It was all alien to me.”View image in fullscreenHe has experienced being both a young father and an old one. His two sons with Nicole, Orson and Torin (aged 22 and 20, respectively), have grown up in New York, where the family live. He becomes gooey when talking about them. “I still look at their baby pictures. I miss them from when they were small. They’re now grown adults. They’re ridiculously tall, which is embarrassing because I’m only 5ft 8in and Nicole’s 5ft 2in.” How tall are they? “6ft 4in and 6ft 3in. It’s something about America. I used to think, ‘If I go to America, I’ll grow tall. Well, I’ll be taller.’ And of course I never lived in America when I was young, so I never got tall!”As a US citizen, how does he feel about the return of Donald Trump as president? “The penny doesn’t seem to drop about him. I can’t understand it. That’s why it’s so shocking. A man known to be sexist, racist, a suspected rapist … ” He turns puce, and struggles to get the words out. “And he’s got a big Catholic vote behind him … and I kept thinking, ‘How does that tie in with Catholic consciousness?’” No wonder, he says, that he gave up on religion. “It’s all bollocks. BOLLOCKS,” he roars. I’ve never met anybody who says bollocks with such ferocity. Then he rows back. “I don’t want to be disrespectful of people who believe, so bollocks is a bit harsh.”The older he gets, the more he wants to know why we’re on Earth – what our purpose is, if there is any. And the re-election of Trump makes him even more baffled. “We don’t understand who the fuck we are. We really don’t. We have no fucking clue who we are. How did we get to a stage where 80 million Americans will elect this fucking, you know, to become president.” He says “fucking” every bit as ferociously as he does “bollocks”.Does the US election make him lose faith in people?” “No, it doesn’t make me lose faith in people. It just makes me realise people are stupid. We’re in for a pretty rough old four years coming up.” Does he think he’ll stay in the US with Trump in power? “I don’t know. I’ve got to because my sons are there. But I’ll try to spend as much time here as I can.”We change the subject to something more positive. He tells me how he got together with Nicole. He’d previously met her one evening in 1990, when he was playing Lear in Hamburg. They talked, they danced, and then eight years elapsed before they saw each other again. By now he was single, recently out of a long-term relationship, and working on Broadway. “I got this message from the stage doorman, Jerry, and he said, ‘This broad came here last night. Really good-looking broad, she left this note, and I had one of those weird thoughts, ‘If I open this note, it’s going to change my life.’ I literally had this premonition. I’ve never experienced anything like this in my life.” And it did. He had just heard there was a no-show, so he rang Nicole and offered her the ticket. “We got together over that weekend – 1998, 26 years ago.”View image in fullscreenHe has previously said the secret to a happy relationship is separate bedrooms. Did he mean it? “That helps.” Why? “Because it means we’re independent. We’re not dependent on each other. I mean it’s very hard at the moment because we’re having to share a room, as I’ve got such a small flat in London. It’s weird. The place is such a fucking mess.” Normally, back home in America, they have a totally different set-up. “We visit each other.” Does he stay overnight if he visits? “Yeayeayea. The secret of a happy marriage is to allow the person to be the person and not make them into what you want to make them.”I ask if he thinks about death. “Yes, all the time. I have a fantasy every night about how I’m going to die. I don’t think about it in a depressing way. I just think of all the possible scenarios.” What’s his favourite? “Going without fuss, wrapped up in bed with a cup of tea, maybe with the telly on.” I think you may have a long wait ahead of you, I say. “Maybe. Maybe.” I hope so.It’s time to leave. We head off together. He talks about where I grew up in Manchester, the years he spent there working in the theatre, and the people and places he loves that I may know. Grumpy? No way. Sure, he’s passionate about a better world and pointing out all that’s bad in the present one. Yes, he’s a loudmouth with a penchant for roaring “Bollocks” at the world’s shysters and hypocrites. But, whisper it, Brian Cox may just be one of life’s great enthusiasts. The Score is at Theatre Royal Haymarket in London from 20 February to 26 April 2025, trh.co.uk More

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      in US Politics

      ‘Harm to children was part of the point’: a harrowing film on US family separations

      by

      He thought he was working in the past tense, making a film about what one Republican-appointed judge described as “one of the most shameful chapters in the history of our country”. Then Donald Trump won the 2024 presidential election. Now Errol Morris’s documentary about family separations at the US-Mexico border looks like a dreadful premonition.“It’s interesting how things have radically changed,” Morris says via Zoom from a book-lined office in Cambridge, Massachusetts. “The movie, which presumably is recounting past history, seems to be a crystal ball into what may happen next and that was not clearly imagined at the outset. But it is clearly suggested now.”Separated is based on the NBC News correspondent Jacob Soboroff’s book Separated: Inside an American Tragedy (“one of the best collaborations I’ve ever had”, says the Oscar-winning Morris) and premieres on the MSNBC network on 7 December. It is an excruciatingly timely reminder of how Trump ripped 5,500 children from their parents (up to 1,400 of whom are not yet confirmed as reunited).The 93-minute documentary forensically details how the first Trump administration’s policy of family separations was deliberate, systematic and intentionally inhumane, leaving children in wire-mesh cages with feelings of fear and abandonment. Trump said with casual cruelty: “When you have that policy, people don’t come. I know it sounds harsh but we have to save our country.”Wearing white shirt and spectacles, sipping from a white coffee mug and speaking slowly in honeyed tones, Morris reflects: “The separations was an abomination. It was racist, was cruel, was unnecessary. As one of the interviewees in my film says, there were other levers that we could pull. This seemed to be something we did not need to do.”Trump had come into office promising a crackdown on illegal immigration including the construction of a border wall. The pre-existing catch-and-release scheme (which had allowed migrants to remain in the country until their immigration hearing) was ditched in favour of something more draconian.Family separations under his administration began as early as March 2017 under a pilot programme in El Paso, Texas. The fact it is was happening covertly undermines the notion that it could act as a deterrent.A “zero tolerance” policy, officially announced in spring 2018, marked a significant escalation. It mandated the prosecution of all adults crossing the border illegally. Anyone who did not arrive at a designated port of entry and claimed asylum would be arrested.While the policy never specifically called for children to be taken from parents, separation became inevitable because the adult was detained and charged. Since children were not allowed to be held in a federal jail, they were taken from their parents and placed in the care of the Office of Refugee Resettlement (ORR).Jonathan White, a civil servant who worked at the ORR and fought against the policy, says in the film: “Harm to children was part of the point. They believed it would terrify families into not coming.”Images of children held in cages in a McAllen, Texas, facility triggered outrage in June 2018. But Homeland security secretary Kirstjen Nielsen denied that there was a policy of separating families at the border and sought to shift blame to Congress, even though the enforcement of laws happens at the president’s discretion. The Bush and Obama administrations had largely allowed families to stay together.Morris comments: “There was a totally fatuous claim that is made by Kirstjen Nielsen in the film: we’re just following the law – if you arrest a criminal and they have a child with him or her, you separate them.“There have been miserable policies towards immigrants from probably every administration, the first Bush on through to Donald Trump. But none of those administrations felt the need to do what he did. It was considered to be a step too far, a no-no, and yet they embraced it anyway.”He continues: “There are a lot of things that get to me but what really appalls me is that they would separate nursing infants from their mothers. This is clearly not right. What’s the word I’m searching for? This is wrong.”For Morris, the child separation saga pointed to a wider issue. “It’s an issue about racism and what I see as the racist rhetoric and policies of Donald Trump and his acolytes. I find it repulsive. I often like to remind people that racism is disgusting and it’s also bad manners. Haven’t we been taught not to act like that? Isn’t that part of the repertoire of being a civilised, cultured human being?“I hate analogies, but like everyone else, I can’t avoid using them. I like to tell people, as an American Jew, I always wondered what it was like to live in Germany in the 1930s, more specifically to be a Jew living in Germany in the 1930s. Now I know a lot more about what it must have been like.”Morris’s works include The Thin Blue Line, The Fog of War, American Dharma and My Psychedelic Love Story. Separated came with some distinct challenges. Much of the separation process happened away from TV cameras; the director compensations with dramatisations to portray a Guatemalan mother and son experiencing the border crossing, separation and reunification.View image in fullscreenIt was also hard to get interviews with those involved. Morris explains: “There are all kinds of impediments to getting people to talk; I’ve never seen anything this severe. If you’re working for the government, for example, like Jonathan White was working for the government, you’re constrained. You’re not allowed to talk without getting the permission of your superiors.“Most people who are still working in some capacity for the government simply would not talk and it didn’t matter how much begging and how much cajoling I might do. Jonathan would and that represents an extraordinary act of courage on his part.“He felt that the issues were so important that he had to talk. Call him a whistleblower. Call him whatever you want to call him. He did something that was incorrect and greatly appreciated by me. He took risks in order to tell a story which I believe needed to be told. A hero.”In his interview White describes Scott Lloyd, the head of the ORR, as “the most prolific child abuser in modern American history”, given White’s disturbing lack of awareness of the trauma inflicted on children under his care.Morris reflects: “Why is he doing the job? He’s a political appointee. He was known for his anti-abortion activism and that was his chief concern: preventing any of the women in ORR custody from ever getting abortions, even though at that time Roe was the law of the land.“Was Scott Lloyd interested very much in the care of people in his charge? I don’t know. It seems to me – I hate to make these inferences but I don’t hate them so much that I’m unwilling to make them – that he was currying favour with the administration. He was interested in self-advancement. He was ambitious and perfectly willing to do the bidding of the hardliners in the Trump administration.”Separated is also a study in the bureaucratic machinations behind how the sausage is made. “There is a very strong theme running through this about bureaucrats and bureaucracy, good bureaucrats and bad bureaucrats. Most interesting to me in the story is how pliable our morality is.“If we need to find a way to justify the most appalling behaviour, we somehow find a way to do it. You can listen to Kirstjen Nielsen braying like a donkey that she is just following the law – you wouldn’t want me to break the law, would you?“Well, I don’t look at it that way and, when it’s suggested that she might be separating families as a deterrent to immigration, she gets outraged. I can’t even believe you would suggest such a thing. This is all Looney Tunes. It’s people living in some strange nimbus of self-deception.”The film highlights the role of civil servants who challenged the policy and fought to reunite families – courageous individuals such as White and Jallyn Sualog who worked within the system to mitigate its harmful effects. And it offers a reminder of the mass street protests – plus worldwide condemnation from the pope and others – that ultimately compelled Trump to back down: the one significant policy reversal of his first term.Yet a scandal that has been called “torture”, and by Morris himself as leading to “state-created orphans”, gained relatively little attention during this year’s presidential election campaign. Democrats were on the defensive on the border issue and tried to avoid the subject.Morris says: “People were scared to talk about immigration. The Democrats were and the Republicans weren’t scared to talk about it as long as they could frame it in the most draconian, repulsive terms: we’ll deport everybody.”View image in fullscreenHe was denied a chance to help put the issue on the agenda when Separated was not scheduled for TV broadcast until after election day. Morris complained on the X social media platform: “Why is my movie not being shown on NBC prior to the election? It is not a partisan movie. It’s about a policy that was disgusting and should not be allowed to happen again. Make your own inferences.”Trump claimed that undocumented migrants are “poisoning the blood of our country” and asserted, without evidence, that Haitians were eating pet cats and dogs in Springfield, Ohio. He pledged the biggest mass deportation in US history and has already announced a team including the immigration hardliners Tom Homan and Stephen Miller, both of whom were instrumental in family separations during the first term.Will there be another public revolt this time or, given Trump’s victory in the national popular vote, are people demoralised and desensitised? Morris asks: “Did people in Germany all know that there was antisemitism? Well, yes. Did they know that they were involved in genocide? Probably not everybody.“On the part of the public, there’s a concept I’m very fond of: anti-curiosity. I sometimes say to myself, how much will it cost me to know less? There’s denial, there’s self-deception, there’s willful disbelief and on and on and on and on and on. I often say Homo sapiens: very bad and most certainly a compromised species.”But a mass deportation operation will be costly, logistically difficult and likely to produce harrowing images on TV that could reignite the anti-Trump resistance. At a recent screening of Separated in Washington, an audience member interrupted Soboroff and others on a panel discussion by shouting: “We’re not going to let him make our federal government the Third Reich of the US! We’re not going to let him make our National Guard people the Gestapo of the United States! We are not going to let that happen!”The sequel is always worse. Mass deportations would mean a return to child separations by another name. Some 4.4 million US citizen children lived with at least one undocumented parent as of 2018. The return of Trump has left Morris thinking about questions of justice.“What happens when you have crime without punishment?” he asks. “We all have this kind of quasi-religious model that moral transgressions have to be punished. There has to be some kind of societal reply. But what if there isn’t? What if crime goes unpunished?“I was just in Ukraine and I kept wondering – they’ve recorded over 100,000 war crimes by Russian soldiers – will these go unpunished? Will there ever be any kind of accountability? My answer to that is: ask America about crime without punishment and what ultimately that does to a society.”

      Separated will air on MSNBC in the US on 7 December More

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      in US Politics

      Wrestler, film star – and future president? Why we should all take Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson seriously

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      It’s proving to be a busy period for Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson, sometime WWE professional wrestler and Hollywood film star. Well, another one. Red One, a Christmas-themed action movie (Johnson plays Santa Claus’s bodyguard), was released earlier this month. The Disney animation, Moana 2 (for which he voices the tattooed demigod Maui) is about to be released. He is also in the process of filming the new live-action version of Moana, and embarking on another Disney movie, Monster Jam.If anyone is surprised by Johnson’s repeated donning of the cinematic mouse ears, or by his general presence in children’s films, they shouldn’t be. While he is probably still best known for the Fast & Furious film franchise, and other flexes of his big-screen muscle, he has long been a staple in family movies. With his reputed $50m fee for Red One, and with an estimated net worth of about $800m, he has become one of Hollywood’s highest paid stars. Johnson also made the Time magazine 100 list of influential people – not once but twice, in 2016 and 2019.The Rock should run for US president, you may josh. That very suggestion was tested by a size­able 2021 poll resulting in 46% of Americans saying they would back him (more of which anon).If, for some of us, Johnson does not register on our radar, leastways not in these rarefied zones, or to such an extent, then we haven’t been paying attention.These days, it’s not just about The Rock’s success, it’s also about the spread of it: films; wrestling; television; sundry business ventures; calls to go into politics.For all that, outside the US Johnson could represent something of a cultural blind spot. As in, you’ll have heard of Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson (probably), but he’s not someone you’d necessarily place in Hollywood’s top starry tier (you’re wrong). Doesn’t he just do fighting-grunting acting, and otherwise mainly stands there like a block of crudely honed wood? (You may be thinking of Jean-Claude Van Damme.)View image in fullscreenJohnson, 52, has a large dedicated female fanbase, with wider reach than you would think. He has talked honestly and regretfully of his troubles with depression, and past personal mistakes. A father of three daughters, his ex-wife is still his friend and business partner. In 2018, on International Women’s Day holding his eight-year-old daughter Jasmine (“Jazzy”) in his arms, he posted a message on then-Twitter: “To every woman out there ‘round the world – all ages and races – I proudly stand by your side to honour, protect and respect.”Saying that, Johnson’s appeal seems not one iota dependent on what women are supposed to like. Certainly not if reports about how macho rugged guys are currently “out” are correct – and modern women prefer prettier, more feminised men, offscreen and on, from Brad Pitt to One Day’s Leo Woodall.By contrast, The Rock represents the kind of male archetype that never truly goes out of fashion, primarily because such a solid unyielding block of men really like him, maybe even need him – viewing the unbridled alpha masculinity of his action movies as a form of rebellion against modern world reprimands and restrictions. Judged by these metrics, Johnson’s brand of masculinity is focus group-proof.If The Rock is now one of the most successful film stars in the world, the product isn’t always so celebrated. His humorous family-friendly film persona is nothing new; it’s an update on the mainstream “gentle giant” trope popularised by Arnold Schwarzenegger in the 1980s and 90s, with films such as Twins (1989) and Kindergarten Cop (1991). There’s nothing wrong with that, but the standard has to remain reasonably high.Despite costing a reputed $200m, some Red One reviews have been un-festively negative. The one-and-a-half star review from the well-read Roger Ebert site ended with the words “a state of unconsciousness might be the best way to enjoy it”.Johnson’s on-set behaviour has also been the subject of unflattering reports – including the Fast & Furious camp, allegedly involving Vin Diesel, Jason Statham, and Johnson (who now stars with Statham in the Fast & Furious Presents: Hobbs & Shaw spin-off series). The rumours mainly involved the alpha-male actors demanding scripts be tweaked so that their characters always won fights, which (oh, the irony) made them all look a little pouty and beta.On the Red One set, there were reports of Johnson arriving late, putting filming behind schedule (Johnson says his timings were pre-arranged), and, when away from his trailer, urinating in water-bottles that were then handed to assistants to dispose of (“Yeah, that happens,” admitted Johnson in a GQ magazine interview).Acting alpha is one thing; behaving like a spoiled boorish A-lister quite another, and damaging to Johnson’s earthy, blue-collar public profile (with parents in the wrestling community, the young Johnson constantly moved around the US so that his late father could wrestle).If The Rock as real-world US presidential material seems far-fetched, the 2021 poll suggests otherwise, as seemingly does Johnson. Posted on Instagram, his response was: “I don’t think our founding fathers EVER envisioned a six-four, bald, tattooed, half-Black, half-Samoan, tequila drinking, pickup truck driving, fanny pack-wearing guy joining their club – but, if it ever happens, it’d be my honour to serve you, the people.”View image in fullscreenThere have been screen-to-politics trajectories before: Ronald Reagan, Schwarzenegger, even Donald Trump. After the poll result, Johnson said he was visited by various political parties but, if he does ever run for office, what are his leanings?Increasingly, Johnson seems to suffer from wandering politics. In 2020, he called himself “centrist”, and declared for Joe Biden and Kamala Harris. Fast-forward to 2024, and Donald Trump was claiming on talkSPORT that when Johnson saw footage of the assassination attempt, he asked for Trump’s contact details, as the film star had been impressed by his bravery (Trump did not say whether Johnson had been in touch).Johnson also told Fox News he would not be endorsing Harris for president, and that he “would keep my politics to myself”.But he has also expressed his frustrations: “Today’s cancel culture, woke culture, division, etcetera – that really bugs me.” Is The Rock suffering from a bad dose of liberal buyer’s regret? Or is it rather his feeling, and of other interested parties, that should he ever run for office, it’s more likely Republicans who would prove supportive?Getting back to the day job, there are signs that Johnson may be chafing against his stereotyping in action films and family comedies. He is producing and starring in (alongside Emily Blunt) a forthcoming film The Smashing Machine, playing a character based on Mark Kerr, a wrestler and mixed martial artist from the 1990s, whose addictions nearly destroyed him.If this news instantly causes an eyebrow to arch (The Rock in a wrestling Raging Bull?), maybe it’s time to wonder if, with Johnson, it’s a case of: it’s not him, it’s us. Are people being snobbish about him trying to stretch himself? Are we just as guilty of buying into macho stereotypes – only in slightly knowing, ironic films such as this year’s Ridley Scott sequel Gladiator II?Perhaps we have not yet learned our lesson about underestimating The Rock. While some of us were not really looking, Dwayne Johnson, cultural outlier, got incredibly big – and in ways beyond his bulked-up physical frame. It could be time to take more notice. More

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      in US Politics

      ‘We create gods because the world is chaos’: Ralph Fiennes, John Lithgow and Stanley Tucci on celebrity, sin and papal thriller Conclave

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      Faith, death and vengeful vaping: of all the Oscar contenders this year, Conclave is the one that best combines chewy religious inquiry and lavish side-eye. Adapted by Wolf Hall screenwriter Peter Straughan from the Robert Harris novel, Conclave has been directed by All Quiet on the Western Front’s Edward Berger as a heavy-breathing battle for hearts, minds and power.Ralph Fiennes stars as Cardinal Lawrence, who, after the sudden death of the pope, must park his own religious doubts to wrangle the 113 cardinals who have descended on the Vatican. These men will be sequestered until they can elect one of their number as the new pontiff. Among them are the gentle progressive Bellini (Stanley Tucci) and smooth traditionalist Tremblay (John Lithgow). Both have secrets. But are they as lethal as those of their friends – and rivals?The film was shot in Rome 20 months ago; triangulating the actors’ schedules for a reunion seemed to take almost as long. Fiennes is completing work on a new Alan Bennett adaptation and zombie follow-up 28 Years Later; Tucci shooting the Russo brothers’ latest and promoting his new memoir; Lithgow stars at the Royal Court in new play Giant, as Roald Dahl, railing against accusations of antisemitism.In the end, they all dialled in early one morning from different parts of London. Fiennes was in a tasteful kitchen and vast cardie, Tucci his home office, teetering with books and sketches, while Lithgow beamed from a creamy Chelsea rental.View image in fullscreenCatherine Shoard: Did any of you find or renounce God while making the film?John Lithgow: No. But we were in Rome, so taking a warm bath in Renaissance Italian art, which is as Christian as you can get. And we were working on something that really felt worthy. So it was a spiritual experience.Stanley Tucci: I was raised Catholic but broke with the church. It just never made sense to me. It was a myth I had great difficulty believing. But as John said, being in Rome is always incredibly moving. I remember as a kid living in Italy and being profoundly moved by the experience of going into a church, simply because of the art and the amount of time and energy that was devoted to creating it – and sustaining the myth. But it didn’t sway me one way or the other.Ralph Fiennes: I feel a bit differently. My mother was a committed Catholic, but quite enlightened. She had brothers and a great uncle who had been priests. My great uncle, Sebastian Moore, is quite a well-known theologian. So God was not unfamiliar to me. Questions about faith were something I grew up with.I rebelled against my upbringing when I was 13. I said to my mother: “I’m not going to mass.” I didn’t like the heaviness. There was a very claustrophobic, dominant feeling from the church in Ireland, where we then were living, in the early 70s. I hated the sense of compulsion and constriction.I don’t think of myself as a practising anything, but I’ve never stopped having a curiosity about what it is to have faith. I’m also very moved by what we can encounter with the art the church has produced. Not just the Catholic church. I was in Thessaloniki recently and went to a museum of icons there, which was profoundly moving. What is it that makes us want to build these churches and shrines? Faith is a huge, potent thing that mankind seems to want to have, even if the forces of logic and science and reason go against it. I’m curious about that energy.CS: Why are people drawn to faith?RF: It’s about looking for answers. Life is messy. Life is shitty. Life is unpredictable. I think human beings want a sense of coherence in their inner selves. And often faith does contain helpful guidances or moral rulings. Of course, the Catholic church has done terrible things. It’s full of twisted and dark corners, but all power structures will go that way. I think the precept of a faith brings people together and gives communities a sense of coherence.Christ was teaching at a time when tiny communities were held together by messengers on horseback or on ships, taking letters or preaching vocally. They didn’t have mass communication. So in a small community, how you cohered was really important. I have some experience with visiting Inuit peoples in northern Canada, where they worship animals and have a real respect for the elements. Their communities have been totally shattered and wounded by encounters with the Christian churches. But they have their stories which help them survive and cohere.ST: I think that this sense of camaraderie and community is something we all long for and there’s no question that the church does that. But we create these ideas of God, or gods, because the world is chaos. It’s to dispel our fears. We have no control over our lives and that causes anxiety. Fear of death is the most potent; we’ve created all these constructs to make ourselves feel better about when we or a loved one dies.View image in fullscreenEach society has their own construct to dampen those fears, to make it OK. If we think about religion as making order out of chaos, it’s exactly the same thing that art does. And yet so much art has been created by the church. Of course all of these incredible artists could only paint religious subjects. I have faith, I have faith in art. That’s where my faith lies.JL: What they said! It’s such a deeply thought-out film. What’s fascinating about telling a story like this is the context of a political event – the election of a new pope – and examining the electorate. The college of cardinals are all men who’ve been drawn to religion by a longing to commit their lives to faith. And so wholeheartedly that they are at the top of the food chain of a great big religious construct.But when it comes right down to it, they all have to vote and compete. There are rivalries and betrayals and deceptions and jealousies and ambitions and aspirations, all of which go counter to the entire reason they’re there: a devotion to Christ and the idea of the Catholic church. Any story with that tension between virtue and sin is automatically great. I think that’s why people are responding so fervently to this film. They see these tensions: men who went into something for deep personal reasons that have gradually been eroded by ambition.CS: Do you think there’s anything unhelpful about the drama of elections? Are we addicted to horserace narratives?JL: It’s inevitable when a leader is chosen that it’s going to get political. But it’s just an incredibly interesting moment for this film to arrive. While we were shooting the film, there was the great fight in the US House of Representatives for the House speaker. There were 15 ballots before Kevin McCarthy finally survived the process – it was just like what we were acting out.View image in fullscreenThat was uncanny event No 1 – the second is what happened two weeks ago. Had the only voters in that been the cast and crew of Conclave, there would’ve been the opposite result. There’s a great liberal tradition in film – and the great example is Mr Smith Goes to Washington. The forces of corruption and money in politics fail at the end and the simple man prevails. That’s very much the movie paradigm. And Conclave basically follows those rules. It’s just amazing the tide has turned so much in the last few weeks. It makes our movie into a kind of wish-fulfilment story – which I think is another reason people have been attracted to it.ST: The film does follow a certain trope, in a way, as the book did. But it’s a fascinating one – and not an easy one. So often movies are made just to make us feel better. That’s why there are so many happy endings in movies, because there are so many unhappy endings in life.CS: In the film someone pointedly says that the papacy is a heavy burden for an older man. Should there be an upper age limit on positions of power? Or even voting for them? In real life, cardinals can’t vote once they’re over 80.RF: It would be a great guideline in the current US government: 80 as a signoff. We’d have two years of Trump but not four.JL: I don’t think it would pass Congress at the moment.RF: But maybe that’s a good idea, to have an age limit on any electoral governmental ruling system. I’m sure that’s smart, but who decides whether it’s 75, 80, 70? There are plenty of people with alert minds working vigorously into their early 80s. But the patriarchal element seems to me one of the looming themes, that begs all kinds of questions. Stanley’s character, Cardinal Bellini, articulates the very, very vital issues of how the church should go forward in relation to gender and sexual identity and diversity. Mostly the film has been well-reviewed. Some people seem to think it’s a bit simplistic, but I think it puts on the table quite coherently and intelligently big themes that could be discussed without it being an attack on the church.View image in fullscreenThe Catholic church is riven with it. That’s why it’s very frustrating to read Saint Paul: he preaches love, but his strictures on women are just horrendous. It’s so conflicted. It needs a good clean out. And yet these patterns of behaviour do seem to appeal to all the world. People love the ritual. They love the tradition. It’s kind of a conundrum, isn’t it? The church is so potent. Clearly it does good. It does lots for suffering peoples and the poor, but it’s also got this other side where it’s so backwards in its conventions and thinking. Its traditions are holding it back.CS: What can the church do to change?ST: Priests should be able to get married. That changes everything. And nuns. Why can’t you be devoted to God and love someone at the same time? I don’t understand that. Priests used to be married many years ago but the Catholic church stopped that. The excuse was that priests needed to devote themselves to God. But really it was because when they died, everything went to their wives. It wasn’t about devotion but money. And I think that’s a problem. Priests being able to be married would ground them in reality and only enhance their spirituality. Let’s just start with that.CS: Yet in the US the democratic process recently embraced a return to patriarchy. Why are people drawn to institutions and leaders who seek to roll things back?View image in fullscreenRF: I think it comes back to a story and how it’s put out. Trump told a story. The way he described the problem with America and what he could do, was a story. He has a remarkable gift for talking and accessing people’s deeper gut feelings. And the story in its simplicity appealed. Whatever you think of the horror of the language and the racism and sexism that we all identify on the liberal side, it speaks to people. He’s the man in the bar who says: “I’ll get rid of this shit. We’ll make your lives better.” His win was a visceral response to a man saying: “I’m going to sort it for you.” Basically, his story won. It’s not my country, but it seems to me that the Democrats were increasingly perceived as a sort of removed elite. Theirs wasn’t a story that I think was put across very strongly. Trump told the best story, whether you like it or not.JL: He also told the story of the Democrats. He dominated the narrative with a much bolder, louder voice, and with the support of a huge amount of the media. Story is a very potent word in in this conversation. The Democrats couldn’t get their story out, or whatever was persuasive and compelling about their story couldn’t rise above all the noise.ST: By simplifying everything, he distilled it down to ideas that were very easy for people to grasp.JL: And that’s how tyranny operates.ST: He just played on everyone’s fears and he did what so many fascistic-minded people do, which is find a scapegoat: immigrants. It’s always the other. So people go: that’s why I have no money, because of that guy. It’s not true, at all. But it works. It’s worked before and it worked again.RF: It seems the rate of inflation in America has wrong-footed a lot of people; the price level people are used to dealing with suddenly went up.JL: Well, there was a simple story to tell there that never got articulated: inflation was substantially a result of the huge crisis of Covid and it had been coming down steadily for months. The Biden administration was doing a very good job at handling an inflation crisis, but that story never got told. And it doesn’t matter how many graphs you see in a newspaper, it still feels like prices are too high. But prices are too high because the country suffered a traumatic economic episode. It was being handled. God knows what’s gonna happen now, with tariffs being the new go-to solution. They’re gonna create inflation.ST: How are tariffs gonna help? I don’t know.CS: Conclave is a very theatrical film. Does all the smoke and bling and the costumes attract certain people to the pulpit? Someone like Trump – embraced by the religious right – is used to being immediately judged on his performance.View image in fullscreenRF: The spoken word in the space to a body of people is the business we’re all in. There’s John every night embodying Roald Dahl with extremely toxic views. In a way that’s a pulpitian provocation. That’s what the theatre does – and Giant is a fascinating, compelling play. As actors, when we speak on a stage and we have our audience, that’s a potent thing that’s created. I don’t know that people are drawn to the church so that they can always be speaking, but clearly if you are a priest, there is that moment when you get up and you deliver your homily for the week. You have to put across a view or a lesson or a teaching or an idea that is meant to send your community out with, hopefully, questions to improve their moral wellbeing or the way they engage with life.My memory of listening to homilies is that they are sort of provocations based in the religious text that say: think about this or think about that. How we listen as a congregation is fascinating. That’s why I love what the theatre is.JL: There’s something in all of us three – actors, not men of the cloth – that is mainly interested in impact. We just wanna reach people, and we’re playing roles and we’re telling stories that are not our personal stories. But the three of us have had hundreds of experiences of reaching people, throttling them with theatrics, making them laugh or cry or scream out in horror.RF: Or go to sleep.JL: Our great ambition is to wake them up and to startle them and get huge rounds of applause. There are two major, beautifully written speeches in our film that have an extraordinary impact on the college of cardinals. That’s why we are in the game. We understand the thrill of succeeding at making an impact.RF: And we understand that crushing disappointment when you realise you haven’t made the impact you’d hoped.JL: Oh, it’s awful!CS: The characters you play are trying to emulate God and falling short. As actors who are public figures, are you more conscious of being treated like quasi-gods – and of your own failings coming under more scrutiny?JL: Different types of actors are treated very differently. I’m a strange actor who’s gone off and done extremely peculiar roles. I’m the go-to psychopath or hypocrite or villain from time to time. I guess all three of us are character actors in a sense. My whole game is surprising people. I have a sort of perverse enthusiasm for upending people’s expectations of me. People don’t go to me for political wisdom. I come off very pretentious if I get anywhere near that kind of talk. But my acting is completely surprising and sometimes revolting. I just go for it.View image in fullscreenST: These people are trying to emulate God and yet they created God. So that’s weird. But without question, people in the public eye are always under more scrutiny. You’re larger than life. But I think that’s changed over the years. You used to see actors on stage, from a distance, in a proscenium. Then you saw them in movies, but still in this big rectangle. Everybody was big and what they did was big. Over the years things got smaller and smaller and now you can put me in your pocket.That changes the way we look at people. It used to be only posthumously that you’d find out somebody in Hollywood was a sexual deviant or a terrible drinker or whatever. In life, it was like: let’s just leave them alone. And everybody did. Television altered how much access to people you were allowed. But now, you can watch me on like your wristwatch and that changes the way you look at me. So people realise that yes, actors are just people. But they still want them not to have these faults. Yet they can’t wait to find out about them.JL: It’s interesting to hear you talk about this, Stanley, because of the three of us people have come to know you the best.ST: Because I made that food show.JL: But that food show is very much the Stanley show and the world has got to know you so well and like you so much. In Rome you were virtually worshipped in that wine shop.View image in fullscreenST: That was really funny. I remember when we went to a grocery store. You were always able to hide behind a persona or a character. So it’s odd because it’s the first time I’ve ever just been myself. And I was very uncomfortable with it at first, even though it was my idea. I don’t know what I was thinking, and now I’m more comfortable with it. I know the idea of connecting through food makes people so happy, so that makes me happy. I just think it’s a nice thing. But I’m never eating Italian food again …RF: I don’t know if priests are emulating God. I think they’re meant to be conduits or shepherds for the message. We’re all sinners – even priests. I think priests or nuns are mostly just answering a calling to preach the message. But of course, if you are preaching the message and you’re in the pulpit, naturally people will expect that you are going to be an example. Cinema is very potent in how it puts an actor’s face on screen. We are conduits for a playwright or a character, we’re not there necessarily preaching a religion or political idea or any kind of philosophy. We’re just drawn to roles. We’re drawn to the drama. The workings of cinema are so keyed into key myths that we want to keep telling ourselves. So audiences will project on to actors huge things, and the media massages the sense of projection. So you suddenly can feel very exposed. People in all forms of entertainment can suddenly realise that there’s an expectation of them as a private person. I think that’s troubling.CS: There are two lines in the film I want to ask your opinion on. The first is: “Things fall apart. The abyss calls out.” Which is a warning from one cardinal about what will happen if the church embraces liberalism. Where do you see the church in 50 years’ time? The second is Stanley’s character’s line that to not know yourself at his age is shameful. Is it, and do you?ST: I’m still learning about myself and trying to make myself better. I don’t always succeed. Sometimes we know ourselves and sometimes we just don’t. I don’t fully know myself. I worry that I’m going to have an epiphany about myself on my deathbed. Then I’ll just die sad.CS: What might it be?ST: Suddenly it’ll occur to me that I really just don’t like myself at all. And then it’ll be over. I’d have no time to rectify it.View image in fullscreenJL: You’d have time for a phone call, Stanley.ST: But I’d wanna go back and change things and make things better and I’ll just be dead.JL: By now, I have settled into a strong sense of myself as a good actor. I wouldn’t work all the time if I weren’t good at it. What I love about the profession is also what makes me feel a little guilty: it seems the most irresponsible thing you can do. Your lines are written for you. Everyone takes good care of you lest you miss a performance or lose a shooting day. You’re treated like a much bigger deal than you actually are. But I think the more you are content with that self-image, the better off you are.RF: I would like to think the church will evolve by dialogue within itself. That it can be a force for good. But I think the evolution of the church is going to be difficult and hard. Our journey through life is a constant evolution with relation to ourselves and in relation to others with whom we connect. There are always traps for us as individuals with our egos and our sense of anxiety. The best of the church or any faith, or any structure, or just your therapist, is in helping each other deal with the world.View image in fullscreenThe acting community at its best is wonderful at supporting each other. The experience where I thought this, at its best, is a fantastic profession to be in, was a production of King John, directed by Deborah Warner at the Royal Shakespeare Company in 1988. The sense of ensemble and community was so fantastic in that production. Everyone flowered in their parts and within themselves as a group. The best the church can be is as a fantastic group. And the energy and the positivity of the group reaches out, and groups everywhere are wonderfully self-supportive of each other.ST: That’s the ideal, but I worry that this right-leaning ideology that’s taking over so much of the world will once again make the church retreat. And that’s really scary.RF: But at the end of our film, the group celebrates the person who seems to me to carry the spiritual depth and coherence and integrity that is needed. Going forward in the world now, we’re very frightened of what might come at us because of what’s happened. But we mustn’t lose sight of the power of what we can have. We must keep intact our aspiration to an ideal. More

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      in US Politics

      Avengers stars assemble to endorse Kamala Harris – by brainstorming an election catchphrase

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      The cast of Marvel’s Avengers movies have come out in support of Democratic presidential candidate Kamala Harris less than a week before the US election.In a video posted first on Vanity Fair on Thursday evening, actors Robert Downey Jr, Scarlett Johansson, Mark Ruffalo, Don Cheadle, Chris Evans, Danai Gurira and Paul Bettany playfully riffed on their respective characters in the Marvel Cinematic Universe while encouraging viewers to vote for Harris.The video, which runs for just over 90 seconds, opens with the actors taking an incoming video call from Johansson. On screen, they brainstorm ideas for a catchphrase for Harris, landing on the dubious “Down with Democracy”, which they spin into a brief Marvel-style Harris/Walz campaign video with dramatic music and comic-style graphics. The final frame of the video encourages viewers to vote on November 5.Sharing the video on X, Ruffalo, a vocal Democrat supporter who is best known for his role as the Hulk, wrote: “Don’t sit this one out. It’s the one where we will lose big: Project 2025, women’s reproductive rights, climate change, LGBTQIA+ rights, public education, student debt relief, Affordable Care Act, Social Security, and as of today, life saving vaccines. This shit is real and it’s going to come for you.”Speaking to Vanity Fair about the making of the video, Johansson, who played Black Widow in the Marvel films, said, “It just immediately turned into people trying to one-up each other with one-liners,” and joked that Downey Jr and Ruffalo were “bickering like two old ladies. And, of course, I’m the person that’s just trying to organise everybody. It’s very similar to what our dynamic is in the films. It was wonderful to feel everybody assemble around it, and hopefully it will engage our fans in the process of voting.”Johansson initiated the project, reaching out to her fellow MCU alumni via their group chat and reminding them: “We’ve got a lot of powerful people on this thread, and it would be great to unite … in hopefully creating a bit of a viral moment for Kamala.”The Avengers cast join a list of celebrities who have endorsed the Harris/Walz campaign, including Taylor Swift, Bruce Springsteen and Oprah. In the last week alone, Beyoncé, Madonna, Bad Bunny, Ricky Martin, LeBron James and the former Republican governor of California Arnold Schwarzenegger have all come out in support of Harris. More