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    How a documentary film-maker became the January 6 panel’s star witness

    How a documentary film-maker became the January 6 panel’s star witnessNick Quested, who was embedded with the Proud Boys after the 2020 election, will supply first-hand knowledge of the riots When the House select committee investigating the January 6 Capitol attack on Thursday got to the witness testimony at its inaugural hearing, it heard from an individual with first-hand knowledge about how the far-right Proud Boys group came to storm the Capitol.The panel’s star witness, Nick Quested, is an Emmy award-winning British documentary film-maker who founded the indie film company Goldcrest and embedded with the Proud Boys in the weeks after Donald Trump lost the 2020 election as part of a project about division in America.“We chose the Proud Boys because they’ve been so vociferous in rallies and protests around America, and they’ve emerged as a political voice and force, particularly in the summer of 2020,” Quested told the Guardian. “We felt they were a group worth following.”January 6 hearings get under way as US braces for revelations – liveRead moreQuested spent much of the post-2020 election period following around the Proud Boys and is considered by the select committee as an accidental witness to the group’s activities and likely conversations about planning to storm the Capitol on January 6.The documentary film-maker shot footage of some of the most crucial moments connected to the attack, starting with rallies in November and December 2020 which the Proud Boys attended alongside other militia groups including the Oath Keepers and the 1st Amendment Praetorian.Quested then managed to capture on camera a late-night rendezvous between Enrique Tarrio, the leader of the Proud Boys and Stewart Rhodes, the leader of the Oath Keepers, in an underground parking garage near the Capitol the day before January 6.The US justice department has referenced that encounter in indictments for seditious conspiracy against Rhodes and other militia group members, though Quested has told the select committee he does not believe that was a meeting to coordinate storming the Capitol.Quested also filmed the Proud Boys marching up the National Mall from the Save America rally at the Ellipse to the Peace Monument at the foot of Capitol Hill, where the group’s members found themselves stopped from moving further by the edge of the US Capitol police perimeter.Over several tense minutes, he photographed Joseph Biggs, one of the Proud Boys indicted for seditious conspiracy, having a brief exchange with another man in the crowd, who then confronted Capitol police in a moment widely seen as the tipping point of the riot.The confrontation sparked the crowd to overturn the police barricade – despite Quested holding on to the fencing to keep it upright – and Quested filmed the charge up Capitol Hill towards the inaugural platform on the west side of the Capitol building.“Why did I go over to the barriers in the first place? Look, there’s two types of people in this world. There’s people who walk to disturbances and people who walk away. I walk towards disturbances,” Quested said.Panel to connect Proud Boys and Oath Keepers in Capitol attack conspiracyRead more“I didn’t know there was a confrontation happening. I felt a disturbance in the crowd and I moved towards that confrontation. And that confrontation happened to be Ryan Samsel shaking the barriers. And then the weight of the crowd overwhelmed the officers at the barrier.”Late in the day on January 6, Quested filmed Tarrio’s reaction to news about the Capitol attack in real time, having gone to see Tarrio in Baltimore, Maryland, where he had retreated after being ordered out of Washington by a local judge the day before.Quested discussed his footage and more at the select committee’s inaugural hearing pursuant to a subpoena, having already testified on multiple occasions behind closed doors about his recollections and experiences around the Proud Boys on January 6.The documentary film-maker – originally from west London and educated at St Paul’s school in London – followed the Proud Boys in the post-election period after covering conflict zones including Afghanistan, Iraq, El Salvador, Mexico, Nicaragua and Syria.Among other works, Quested produced Restrepo, the 2010 Oscar-nominated film that followed a platoon in Afghanistan for a year, and directed the 2018 duPont-Columbia award-winning film Hell on Earth, as well as more than 100 hip-hop videos, including with Dr Dre.TopicsUS Capitol attackRepublicansUS politicsThe far rightHouse of RepresentativesnewsReuse this content More

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    Trump’s ‘big lie’ hits cinemas: the film claiming to investigate voter fraud

    Trump’s ‘big lie’ hits cinemas: the film claiming to investigate voter fraud2000 Mules has been resoundingly debunked by factcheckers, but the film has earned praise from Trump and other Republicans The atrium of Cinemark Fairfax Corner could not be described as characterful. The yellow walls, arcade games and rows of snacks and popcorn might be any bland multiplex cinema anywhere. But the digital dashboard of films currently playing merits a second glance.Along with Bad Guys, Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness and Everything Everywhere All at Once, there is the title 2000 Mules. Anyone hoping for a superhero blockbuster about an army of horse-donkey hybrids will be disappointed.Republican primaries offer look into future of Trumpism without TrumpRead moreInstead, Donald Trump’s “big lie” has arrived at a cinema near you.2000 Mules claims to be an investigation of voter fraud in the 2020 presidential election. It purports to show that Democratic-aligned ballot “mules“ were paid to illegally collect and drop off ballots in Arizona, Georgia, Michigan, Pennsylvania and Wisconsin, tipping swing states in favour of Joe Biden against Trump.The “documentary” has been resoundingly debunked by factcheckers who point out that its supposed smoking gun – $2m worth of anonymised mobile phone geolocation data that allegedly tracks the “mules” visiting drop boxes – is based on false assumptions about the accuracy of such technology.But that has not prevented 2000 Mules earning praise from Trump and other Republicans, gaining a limited cinema release and becoming something of a sacred text in the discredited “Stop the steal” conspiracy theory narrative.So it was that on a quiet Wednesday afternoon, a dozen people – most of them white and middle-aged or elderly – took their seats at Cinemark Fairfax Corner for a screening. Unusually and perhaps tellingly as the lights went down, there were no trailers for other movies.The main feature turned out to be more restrained than critics of the big lie might expect. Far-right film-maker and provocateur Dinesh D’Souza seeks to present himself as curious, innocent and reasonable – just asking questions – as he interviews commentators and “experts” about the conduct of the 2020 election.In fact, D’Souza is so determined to avoid the raucous tone of Trump’s rallies or Fox News’s opinion hosts that at times the 88-minute film is, surprisingly, just plain dull. But by the end he does emphatically conclude that the election was rigged and stolen by Democrats as an ominous, plaintive version of The Star-Spangled Banner swells.Among this group of cinemagoers, at least, D’Souza was preaching to the converted. All had gone in convinced that Biden is not legitimately elected president. The film, like a social media echo chamber, delivered a satisfying dose of confirmation bias.“I thought it was spectacular,” said Joe Hughes, 67, who is self-employed. “Trump never stood a chance in that election.”Joyce Gould, 69, an accounting administrator, agreed: “When Trump talked about stuff that was going to happen, I didn’t have any reason to doubt him. I figured there was a lot of cheating going on. But when you actually see the details in the film as far as the geo-technology and all that kind of stuff? Sure.“I’m just surprised at the evil that is out there in the world. You always know it’s there, but when you actually hear the details of it, it’s just very astounding to me.”A man who gave his name only as Bill, and his age as above 50, described the film as “nauseating and extremely compelling if you have an open mind”. He insisted: “I’m a very objective person. If my own children were charged with a crime, I’d be on the jury. That’s how objective I am.”But he added: “My frustration is with Trump. He knew it was going to happen. He did nothing to stop it. That’s also very nauseating to me.”Will this film actually change minds? Bill’s wife, Anna, 63, who works for an airline, commented: “It might wake up some people that aren’t woken but I don’t know who will come to watch it. I doubt some with a certain political affiliation are willing to because they don’t want to see it or hear it.”2000 Mules was produced by D’Souza and uses research from the Texas-based non-profit True the Vote, which has spent months lobbying states to use its findings to change voting laws.A special screening at Trump’s luxury Mar-a-Lago estate in Palm Beach, Florida, was attended by prominent supporters of his assault on democracy: Congresswoman Marjorie Taylor Greene of Georgia, Trump lawyer Rudy Giuliani and MyPillow entrepreneur Mike Lindell.Clips from the film have regularly featured at Trump’s campaign rallies and it was shown in full before he took the stage in Greensburg, Pennsylvania. The former president has praised 2000 Mules for exposing “great election fraud”.There are signs that it could become a cultural touchstone for Republicans, granting a patina of gravitas and respectability to the big lie that does not come from rumors, speeches or internet chatrooms.Ronny Jackson, the White House’s former top physician who is now a member of Congress, tweeted: “If you don’t think there was MASSIVE voter fraud in the 2020 election after seeing 2000 Mules, then NOTHING can convince you. The amount of criminal fraud all caught ON CAMERA will SHOCK you! 2020 was NOT “free & fair” at ALL. GO SEE 2000 MULES!!”Kandiss Taylor, who ran for governor of Georgia in this week’s Republican primary election, bemoaned the lack of investigations into voter fraud: “There’s been none in Georgia outside 2000 Mules that just came out, outside of data teams all over the state that are private citizens.”However, factcheckers have eviscerated the movie, noting its flawed analysis of mobile phone location data, which is not precise enough to confirm that someone deposited a ballot into a drop box as opposed to merely walking or driving nearby.Aaron Striegel, a professor of computer science and engineering at the University of Notre Dame, told the Associated Press: “You could use cellular evidence to say this person was in that area, but to say they were at the ballot box, you’re stretching it a lot. There’s always a pretty healthy amount of uncertainty that comes with this.”2000 Mules also contains drop-box surveillance footage that showed voters depositing multiple ballots into the boxes. But it is impossible to tell whether those voters were the same people as the ones whose mobile phones were anonymously tracked.Critics also point out that D’Souza has form. He has spent years promoting disinformation. In 2007 he wrote wrote that “the cultural left is responsible for causing 9/11”. In 2014 he was convicted of violating federal election law by making illegal donations to a US Senate campaign only to be pardoned by Trump in 2018.Yet 2000 Mules has been released in more than 270 cinemas across the US with most distribution provided by Cinemark, the third biggest chain in the country. The Popular Information website pointed out that Cinemark’s founder and board chairman, Lee Roy Mitchell, “is a major financial backer of Trump and rightwing misinformation platforms”.Given Trump’s obsession with ratings, it would not be a huge surprise if he now claims to have rescued the American box office. But the release of 2000 Mules is very modest compared to the typical Hollywood blockbuster.Dan Cassino, a government and politics professor at Fairleigh Dickinson University, in Madison, New Jersey, said: “It’s not a widespread release. This is not Doctor Strange. This exists because there is a market for it.“It’s hard to believe that this sort of very blatant propaganda that doesn’t address the question it’s supposed to is going to convince anyone who didn’t already believe that this was real. This is a way of giving additional talking points to people who already believe that the election was stolen.”Purveyors of Trump’s false election claims took a hammering in this week’s Republican primary elections in Georgia. But some watchdogs warn that, about 18 months after the presidential election, the mere existence of 2000 Mules could yet breathe new life into the big lie.Gunner Ramer, political director of the Republican Accountability Project, said: “We get angry emails in our inbox all the time – we’re dumb, terrible RINOs [Republicans In Name Only] or whatever – and one thing I have noticed is that people do mention 2000 Mules.“Among the still-can’t-get-over-the-2020-election-loss crowd, they are watching this. It has made an impact with them and reinforced the big lie.”TopicsDonald TrumpUS elections 2020US politicsfeaturesReuse this content More

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    How Disney found its pride – and riled the American right

    How Disney found its pride – and riled the American right Once known for its ‘traditional’ values, the entertainment giant is battling US conservatives over an anti-gay bill. Indeed the House of Mouse has had a long relationship with the LGBTQ+ community‘Christ. they’re going after Mickey Mouse,” said president Joe Biden in April, bemoaning the Republican party’s targeting of yet another American institution. A few days earlier, at a desk surrounded by small children, Florida governor Ron DeSantis had stripped Disney World of its self-governing status. Since its inception in 1967, Disney’s central Florida estate – officially the Reedy Creek Improvement District – has effectively operated under its own jurisdiction. The agreement has worked for both sides. Disney funds and manages public services in the district in return for autonomy over governance and development. Disney World has become the cornerstone of Florida’s tourist economy, employing 75,000 people locally. This is supposed to be Disney World’s 50th year, but the company finds itself in danger of being cast out of its own magic kingdom.DeSantis’s move was explicitly in retaliation to Disney’s opposition to HB 1557, better known as the “Don’t say gay” law. This vaguely worded bill prohibits discussion of, or instruction on, issues of sexual orientation or gender identity in Florida schools. After the successful weaponisation of “critical race theory” (an academic field that considers systemic discrimination in public life), Republicans have identified LGBTQ+ rights as another potential wedge issue, even linking them with paedophilia and grooming. DeSantis’s press secretary, Christina Pushaw, tweeted that the bill could be “more accurately described as an anti-grooming bill”. Disney responded with a statement calling for HB 1557 to be struck down in the courts. Sign up to our Inside Saturday newsletter for an exclusive behind-the-scenes look at the making of the magazine’s biggest features, as well as a curated list of our weekly highlights.To Republicans, Disney had crossed a line by interfering in politics. “Ultimately, this state is governed by the best interests of the people of this state, not what any one corporation is demanding,” DeSantis said as he signed the bill. Viewed from the opposite side, DeSantis is using the power of the state to punish a private corporation for its political views – a significant escalation in the culture wars, and a worrying look for a democracy. How did it come to this?In truth, conservatives have been going after Mickey Mouse for a long time now. Disney, which now owns Star Wars, Marvel, Pixar and 20th Century Studios, is the US’s pre-eminent cultural superpower, with particular influence over children. In recent years it has been targeted for its “woke” values in terms of inclusion and diversity in matters of race, gender and sexuality, both in its content and its employment practices. In terms of the LGBTQ+ community, though, Disney’s relationship goes far deeper, and it has developed in ways the company itself can never have anticipated.Walt Disney was never a card-carrying homophobe but he was a steadfast conservative, and long after his death in 1966, Disney’s output continued to promote “traditional” and “family” values. That didn’t discount “coding” Disney characters (usually villains) as queer, in that they exhibited stereotypically gay attributes such as effeminate behaviour or disinterest in the opposite sex: Jafar in Aladdin, for example, or Scar in The Lion King, or even Shere Khan the tiger in The Jungle Book. And, as with all forms of culture, Disney stories have lent themselves to queer readings regardless of their makers’ intentions.Dealing with themes of fantasy and magic, many classic Disney stories concern characters moving between two worlds, feeling like outsiders in their communities, transforming and becoming their true selves. These themes could equally be interpreted as explorations of sexuality or gender identity. Cinderella goes from dowdy domestic to sparkling princess at the wave of a wand; Mowgli must decide whether he belongs in the jungle or the village; Mulan masquerades as male to join the Chinese army, during which time she forms an ambiguous bond with the handsome captain. Princess Elsa in Frozen is urged by her parents to suppress her true nature but after she is figuratively “outed” (as a sorceress), she flees her heteronormative destiny, preferring to belt out Let It Go in icy isolation: “Don’t let them in, don’t let them see / Be the good girl you always have to be / Conceal don’t feel, don’t let them know …”Disney films have helped queer people discover their sexuality, says George Youngdahl, a lifelong fan. “Tarzan, Aladdin, Peter Pan, Hercules – all of those were people who I wanted to emulate and I was attracted to. I wasn’t looking at the princesses, or I was because I wanted to be them, not necessarily because I thought they were attractive.” After his first visit to California’s Disneyland, Youngdahl applied for a job at Florida’s Disney World when he was 25. He moved to Florida and worked for Disney for 15 years.Although Disney would never admit it, queer themes have sometimes been more deliberate than accidental. One of the unsung LGBTQ+ heroes of Disney lore, for example, is Howard Ashman, the openly gay lyricist and producer, who died of an Aids-related illness in 1991. With a background in musical theatre, Ashman was instrumental in bringing Disney classics The Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast and Aladdin to the screen, and his involvment is obvious in the final releases.In The Little Mermaid, for example, Ariel is told by her domineering father that the human world is evil and forbidden, but to Ariel, it looks like more fun. “Up where they walk, up where they run / Up where they stay all day in the sun / Wanderin’ free, wish I could be / Part of that world,” she sings. The fact that the evil sea witch, Ursula, was modelled on renowned drag artist Divine only adds to the queer appeal. (The original Little Mermaid was written as an allegory for same-sex attraction, incidentally: Hans Christian Andersen was inspired to write the fairytale by his unrequited love for another man.)“Kids, even in the most accepting of environments, grow up knowing that they’re different and unsure of how that’s going to play out in the world,” says Eddie Shapiro, co-author of Queens in the Kingdom, an LGBTQ+ guide to Disney’s theme parks. “So there’s a sense of otherness. And in the Disney universe, the characters who triumph, the Dumbos of the world, are frequently also other. And they come out on top, or they come out loved, supported, safe. And that’s a big comfort.”It is fair to also call Shapiro something of a Disney super-fan. As we speak, he is on a Disney cruise from Florida to Castaway Cay, Disney’s private resort island in the Bahamas. As with the movies, Disney theme parks have a certain appeal from an LGBTQ+ perspective, he says. “Disney offers a perfect world that never was,” he says. “You didn’t always feel safe as a gay kid, now you’re walking down Main Street, USA, and everything is manicured, everything is clean. Everybody’s friendly. It’s perfect – something that appeals to the child within.”Disney initially resisted attempts by LGBTQ+ visitors to express their fandom at its theme parks. In the 1980s, the company was twice sued for prohibiting men dancing together at Disney World, for example. But in June 1991 a man named Doug Swallow organised a coordinated mass trip to Disney World, attended by 3,000 LGBTQ+ people, wearing red shirts to identify themselves. This was the park’s first Gay Day, and it has continued ever since. The event now brings more than 150,000 LGBTQ+ people to Orlando every June.In the early years, Disney would warn “straight” visitors when it was Gay Day and hand out white T-shirts to non-participants who had inadvertently turned up wearing red. While Disney does not officially recognise Gay Day, it soon came to appreciate the commercial clout of the LGBTQ+ community. There is no end of rainbow-coloured Disney merchandise on sale, and Disney accommodates and facilitates the Gay Day schedule of events, including a week-long festival taking place across the city, with club nights, drag shows, pool parties, and special hotel deals.After his first Florida Gay Day in 1998, Shapiro founded a sister Gay Day Anaheim at the Los Angeles Disneyland. While Orlando Gay Days are more party-centric, the lower-key Anaheim event takes place mostly inside the park. There is a high level of cooperation. Disney now hosts a table at its welcome centre promoting fairytale gay weddings at Disneyland and hosts premieres at Gay Day.“Gay Day was never formed with a political agenda,” says Shapiro. The idea was always integration rather than segregation. “You’re mixing with traditional families, and hopefully changing some hearts and minds. It was not at all lost on us that we were showing up at America’s number one family destination with our families of choice, and announcing by being there, that [we] were worthy, and should absolutely be there, and stand up and be counted. And we’re still doing that.”Disney has learned to embrace LGBTQ+ friendliness on screen and off in recent decades. In 1995 it became one of the first companies to offer health benefits to same-sex partners of employees (prompting a considerable conservative backlash in the process). Meanwhile, it has taken tentative steps towards representation on screen. Even if its “openly gay character” proclamations rarely live up to the billing, there have been fleeting references to same-sex relationships in movies including Toy Story 4 (two women drop off their daughter at kindergarten); Onward (Lena Waithe’s cop refers to her girlfriend); the live-action Beauty and the Beast remake (the character LeFou, played by Josh Gad, is telegraphed as gay and dances with another man, although not even Gad was particularly proud of that one; “I don’t think we did justice to what a real gay character in a Disney film should be,” he admitted). Jack Whitehall went a step further, playing a gay man in Disney’s live-action film Jungle Cruise last year. And Pixar was recently reported to be casting for a voice actor to play a “14-year-old transgender girl” in an upcoming project.But Disney has always balanced its support for the LGBTQ+ community with its appeal to more conservative-leaning consumers, which could be seen as playing both sides. The corporation was recently revealed to have donated almost $1m to the Republican party of Florida in 2020, and $50,000 directly to DeSantis – none of which appears to have deterred him from targeting Disney.Many insiders blame Disney’s mishandling of the Florida issue on its new CEO, Bob Chapek. His predecessor, Bob Iger, is regarded as a hero for presiding over Disney’s canny acquisitions of LucasFilm, Marvel and Pixar, and launching Disney+, all while vocally supporting progressive causes such as Black Lives Matter during the Trump administration. Chapek, who came from Disney’s parks division, is reportedly more conservative-leaning, more managerial and less experienced at this kind of political diplomacy.When DeSantis first announced the “Don’t say gay” bill in early March, Chapek’s response was to stay silent. He sent an internal email to Disney staff expressing his support for the LGBTQ+ community but claiming “corporate statements do very little to change outcomes or minds. Instead, they are often weaponised by one side or the other to further divide and inflame.” This enraged Disney’s LGBTQ+ staff and their allies. Pixar employees released a statement alleging that Disney executives had demanded cuts from “nearly every moment of overtly gay affection” in its movies. In response, Chapek gave a public apology, “You needed me to be a stronger ally in the fight for equal rights and I let you down. I am sorry.” That was not enough to prevent a series of staff walkouts leading up to the signing of the bill on 22 March. Hence Disney’s more confrontational statement about seeking to have the law repealed and struck down.“There is a widespread belief that this was bungled, and it’s a belief not just inside the company, but in the Hollywood community at large,” says Matthew Belloni, ex-editor of the Hollywood Reporter. “If they had remained on the sidelines, lobbied behind the scenes, and made employees know that they cared about the issue but didn’t do so in a way that provoked the politicians, they could have, in my opinion, gotten away with advocacy without becoming a punching bag.”If it happens, the removal of Disney World’s special status, which would come into effect in June 2023, is likely to hurt local citizens more than Disney itself. The burden of running the district’s public services will now fall to taxpayers, and could translate into additional bills for locals. As his public signing of the anti-Disney law, surrounded by schoolchildren, suggests, DeSantis, who many see as a presidential contender, is essentially engaging in political theatre. But potentially more harmful than the attacks on Disney is the “Don’t say gay” bill itself, which is likely to cause long-lasting harm to Florida’s young LGBTQ+ people and their educators.Cotton plantations and non-consensual kisses: how Disney became embroiled in the culture warsRead moreAs with previous occasions when conservatives have “gone after Mickey Mouse”, this latest attack is likely to blow over. “Disney is such a large corporation that I don’t think this specific punishment is going to register in the grand scheme of things,” says Belloni. “It’s more about how it moves forward, and whether it can operate as a down-the-middle, umbrella brand for everybody amid this kind of culture war that it has found itself the centre of.”Maybe Disney doesn’t have to pick a side. The Republicans’ current tactics feel like an attempt to turn back the clock – ironically to an era and a set of values Disney once embodied. But Disney is compelled to look in the opposite direction, led by a market that is increasingly global, young and diverse. While Disney’s centrism can be interpreted cynically as playing both sides or, more generously, catering to all tastes, the important thing is that “centre” has moved a considerable way during the company’s lifetime – and Disney has moved with it.TopicsWalt Disney CompanyLGBT rightsAnimation in filmFilm industryUS politicsFloridaRon DeSantisfeaturesReuse this content More

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    ‘Name names? Never, never, never!’ Lee Grant on her decades of defiance

    Interview‘Name names? Never, never, never!’ Lee Grant on her decades of defianceEmma Brockes The Oscar-winning actor lost 12 years of her career refusing to out her partner as a communist, then had to endure his lectures about Marx while being treated as a ‘maid’. But a remarkable third act as a documentarian showcased her unique voiceLee Grant, child of the Depression, survivor of the anti-communist blacklist, director, Oscar winner and – incredibly – 95 and looking nothing of the sort, is standing in her Manhattan kitchen. It is the size of a medieval castle’s, with copper pots hanging from the ceiling, a catering-size fridge and what appear to be three ovens. “They’re all used,” says Grant, triumphantly, a tone she has earned. For 12 years during the McCarthy-era witch-hunt of the 1950s, Grant was banned from working in Hollywood, re-emerging in the 60s to become not only a wildly successful actor, but one of the US’s finest documentary makers of the late 20th century. Over the course of our conversation, the phrase she uses most often is “I was lucky”.If you have seen Grant on screen, it was most likely in one of her two best-known roles, from very different, seminal films. In 1967, she appeared as Mrs Colbert, the grieving widow, in the classic Sidney Poitier movie In the Heat of the Night. Eight years later, she played opposite Warren Beatty in the cult favourite Shampoo, for which she won an Oscar. Grant is a terrific actor, with a Zelig-like performance history that begins as a child dancer at the New York Ballet under George Balanchine (“My only memory of him is of my mother flirting with him; I was a fat little girl, that’s how I got in”), on through a scholarship at New York’s Neighbourhood Playhouse School of Theater under Martha Graham, and, after her acting career was unfrozen at the age of 33 – “old for Hollywood!” – includes a heady decade living in Malibu knocking around in Joan Didion’s circle. “It was like entering The Truman Show. I get to live here? On the beach? With my eight-year-old daughter? Are you sure?! It was so delicious. And then I met Joey.”Grant sits at her kitchen table, her second husband, Joe Feury, working in the vast living room next door. Together, they ran a successful production company specialising in documentary film, a genre in which Grant says she would never have been successful had she not survived those 12 years on the blacklist – or met Feury. (“Joey thought I could do anything,” she writes in her memoir, I Said Yes to Everything. “And I could.”) Grant grew up 50 blocks north of where we are sitting in Washington Heights, the only child of successful immigrants to New York. Her mother’s family were from Odessa, in present-day Ukraine, her father’s from Poland. Her father ran the YMHA, the Hebrew youth hostel in the Bronx, and her devoted mother and aunt Fremo ran a nursery school from the brownstone where they lived.It was a charmed childhood. “Fremo!” Grant’s mother would exclaim, pointing at four-year-old Grant, or Lyova Rosenthal as she was, then. “Look how she walks! How she talks! Sing something! Did you see that, did you hear that? Genius!” Grant bursts into laughter, remembering the scene. “I knew it was crazy; it was so theatrical. And delicious. They were very delicious, and funny.” And although it wasn’t a political household, they were political times, not only as the Depression raged across the US, but closer to home. Walking down Convent Avenue in the early 30s, says Grant, “the little girls who were on the steps of the Catholic school would shout: ‘You killed our Lord!’” She found this both surprising and comic. “I don’t think I felt sad about it; it was more like: ‘That’s strange. Me? I killed your Lord?’”Grant was innately confrontational, “something I was born with, no question about it”. The first time she recalls standing up for something in public, she was a teenager, walking along a stretch of Broadway near her house when she witnessed a man attacking a woman. The woman tried, desperately, to board a bus, but when the bus driver clocked the commotion, he shut the doors and drove on. Others in the street ignored it. Only Grant reacted. “I ran for a cop.” She ran three blocks, and the couple were gone by the time they returned. “Oh,” said the cop, “they’re probably in a bar now. It’s just a normal thing, don’t worry.” She did worry. “They didn’t have the kind of sensibility that I had. And then I married a blacklisted writer. And there was no hesitation. I certainly was not going to give names in order to work in film or television.”There wasn’t a second when …?“NOT EVEN A SECOND!” she booms. “Never, never, never!” Decades later, when she started to make searing documentaries about homeless Americans, victims of domestic violence and women in prison, she says, “I’d been there. I’d been on the other side almost all my life.”The man she married was called Arnold Manoff, and it cost her the first 12 years of her career. In 1951, straight out of acting school, Grant won a role in a Hollywood movie, Detective Story, with Kirk Douglas, and was promptly nominated for a best supporting Oscar. She was 23 years old and a huge future awaited. But by the time the film came out, Manoff, a communist writer, had been blacklisted – and so, by association, had Grant. A different person would have been furiously bitter. Grant was furious all right: “I was filled with rage and frustration at the blacklisters, who I was living among.” But she wasn’t bitter. She was ignited by a sense of injustice and common cause. In the beginning, she says, “we all stuck together and I really loved those people. And respected them. And they educated me. I had no education, I never went to college. I went right into acting. I felt lucky.”Soon, however, the situation curdled. Manoff was a bully and a hypocrite. “I was living with a man who had nothing but contempt for me,” says Grant. He tried to make her read Marx and Engels. “But I couldn’t get it,” she says. “I didn’t know what it meant.” She found a box of old letters she wrote to him, recently (he died in 1965), and was horrified. “They’re all supplications: ‘I can’t learn Marx, I’m sorry but I can’t.’” Looking back, she understands that he married her mainly to have someone to look after this two children from his first marriage. He belittled and controlled her. When, after the birth of their daughter, Dinah, Grant had an opportunity to appear in a play in upstate New York, her husband said he’d leave her if she took the job. Without hesitation, she took it. “I knew I had to go. Life was over. He didn’t like me at all. He was attracted to me in the beginning, and then it was over. I was the maid, I really was.” The funny thing is, I say, you ended up making a more political body of work than any of the men lecturing you to read Marx before putting on the dinner.“Lecturing the women around them, yes,” she hoots, then looks infinitely fierce. “Those fuckers.”The takeaway from those years was that Grant learned how to fight. She and some of her friends took on the fanatically pro-McCarthy clique that ran the TV union, and slowly, methodically lobbied members to vote them out and replace them with moderates. Eventually, she was permitted to return to Hollywood – three years after everyone else, “because they still thought I’d name my husband”. (She didn’t.) By then she was ancient by the standards of the era. She booked a very good facelift, lied about her age for the next four decades and started another phase of her career. After moving to Malibu and working a stint on the hit soap Peyton Place, offers started to flood in, particularly from liberal and leftwing film-makers, who “were stumbling over each other to give me work. Me first, me first! And they were artists, and brilliant.” She met Joe, 12 years her junior, and the opposite of her domineering first husband: “This really cute boy, and so dear, and so in love. A working-class Italian non-intellectual. It was like the biggest nourishment I could’ve had.”The greatest shift came, however, when Grant started to make documentaries. Before preparing for this interview, I had never seen any of them, but they are available on Amazon and I urge you to watch. They are staggeringly good. The first, made at the suggestion of Grant’s friend Mary Beth Yarrow, was about the Willmar Eight, a group of female bank tellers in a tiny town in Minnesota, who went on strike in 1977 after years of being paid a fraction of what their male colleagues earned. It is a deeply moving and shocking film – “A hell of a little piece that was really a calling card,” says Grant – and more were to follow, all for HBO. In 1986, Grant’s documentary Down and Out in America, in which she investigates the homeless and impoverished underbelly of Ronald Reagan’s America, won the Oscar for best documentary.What is striking about all her films is just how much she gets out of her subjects, who speak with an unselfconsciousness you no longer see on TV. Grant says much of this was down to her brilliant producers finding the right case studies. But her direction, and questioning, was a large part of it, too. In her 1989 film Battered, about domestic violence, she coaxes extraordinary testimony out of victims and perpetrators. One particular man, convicted of beating his wife, tells Grant how he can pick the one woman out of a hundred who is a soft target for abuse. “That’s the guy who stayed in my mind, too, that devil,” she says. “And he was attractive. Scary attractive. That was my first marriage! That guy who said I can come into a room and pick them out – that was me.”The Big Scary ‘S’ Word: why are people so terrified of socialism?Read moreGrant went on to make films about her old friend Sidney Poitier, and about Kirk Douglas and his family, and to strike a huge development deal with the US cable channel Lifetime. If she was shooting now, where would she look? “I would be fighting with HBO to let me go to Ukraine.” She thinks: “Or I’d be looking at Elon Musk, or at January 6th.”As it is, she says, “I’m old. I don’t look that old; I don’t feel that old, probably because I have a young husband – but …” In her memoir, she writes, “death makes me furious, which is a pity because I’m really up there myself”. But having survived all those waves of oppression in her youth, she isn’t done yet. “I feel there’s some way that I can still somehow do something. I don’t know what.” Experience makes her confident: something always turns up. “Life is like that. You slip to another place, go into another world, and you’re curious, and you take sides. And it’s a kind of miracle.”TopicsFilmDocumentary filmsFilm industryUS politicsinterviewsReuse this content More

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    Disney faces backlash over LGBTQ controversy: ‘It’s just pure nonsense’

    Disney faces backlash over LGBTQ controversy: ‘It’s just pure nonsense’The company’s tone deaf mishandling of Florida’s ‘don’t say gay’ bill has revealed a long-gestating conflict Brandon Wolf has fond memories of his five years working as a dancer at Walt Disney World’s Magic Kingdom near Orlando, Florida.“It was one of the best times of my life because I moved to Orlando to find a place to belong, to find a community, to discover a world where I could be an out queer person of colour and be proud of that,” the 33-year-old says. “I certainly found that in the central Florida community that I have grown to love. I found that in my fellow cast members and I’m very grateful for my time being able to work with them at Disney.”Same-sex kiss restored to Toy Story prequel after backlash – reportRead moreThe Walt Disney Company, one of the world’s biggest media and entertainment empires, prides itself on a lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and queer (LGBTQ) friendly culture. But today its reputation for inclusivity and tolerance is under scrutiny – as are its deep ties to the political establishment and the lack of LGBTQ representation in its films.Disney’s workers have been staging walkouts in protest at chief executive Bob Chapek’s lacklustre response to Florida legislation dubbed “don’t say gay”. The controversial bill bars instruction on “sexual orientation or gender identity” in schools from kindergarten through grade 3.Republicans promoting it claim that parents rather than teachers should be talking to their children about gender issues during their early formative years. But their prejudices were laid bare by a tweet from Christina Pushaw, press secretary for Florida’s governor, Ron DeSantis, that said: “The bill that liberals inaccurately call ‘don’t say gay’ would be more accurately described as an anti-grooming bill.”Just in case anyone did not get the message, she added: “If you’re against the anti-grooming bill, you are probably a groomer or at least you don’t denounce the grooming of four- to eight-year-old children. Silence is complicity.”The legislation has been sent to DeSantis, a rightwing populist in the mould of Donald Trump, for signature but could then face legal challenges. It has been condemned as “hateful” by Joe Biden and other Democrats who argue that it demonises LGBTQ people.Wolf, press secretary of the LGBTQ rights organisation Equality Florida and a survivor of the Pulse nightclub shooting in 2016, says: “The ‘don’t say gay bill’ was dubbed that by the community because it is a bigoted, very specifically anti-LGBTQ piece of legislation designed to censor classroom speech about our community.“It is a hateful bill that is rooted in the same anti-LGBTQ animus that has been used to justify discrimination and violence against us forever. It needs to be vetoed and, if it isn’t vetoed, it needs to be repealed.”Few activists or non-government organisations could have opposed the bill with the clout of Disney, as synonymous with Florida as beaches and oranges. The opening of the Walt Disney World Resort in October 1971 helped transform the state into an economic powerhouse and tourism magnet. Disney is now the biggest private sector employer in Florida; Walt Disney World had more than 75,000 workers before the coronavirus pandemic.Aubrey Jewett, a political science professor at the University of Central Florida in Orlando, says: “You could argue that Disney has had a bigger impact on Florida and central Florida than any other company or group. It just really changed the face of Florida.“The state had always been a tourist destination, going back to the 1920s, in the sense that it had warmer weather and coastline. But typically it was mom and pop attractions that popped up to service tourists. When Disney came into town, it really put Florida on the map not only as a national destination for many Americans but an international tourist destination well known all around the world.”Disney has also contributed millions of dollars to Republican and Democratic politicians, ensuring a cosy relationship between Mickey Mouse and state government, Jewett adds: “Disney typically has not gotten involved in lots of controversial social issues. They donate to a lot of charities in central Florida and try to be a good corporate citizen.“But they also do try to steer public policy their way like any big corporation and because they are so big and have such influence, usually they’re very successful. Typically almost anything they want they get in terms of public policy.”Yet the “don’t say gay” bill wrong-footed Chapek, who succeeded Bob Iger as chief executive in February 2020. Initially he sent a message to Disney workers affirming the company’s support for LGBTQ rights but also contending that corporate statements often do little to change minds and can be “weaponised” by either side.Chapek then told Disney shareholders that, instead of making an early public statement against the legislation, company officials had been working behind the scenes with politicians “to achieve a better outcome” but without success, despite “our longstanding relationships with those lawmakers”.It was tone deaf response, misjudging the mood of an era in which companies face heightened ethical expectations to take a stand on issues such as Black Lives Matter. Disney workers mobilised with an online campaign including a website, whereischapek.com, that says their leadership “utterly failed to match the magnitude of the threat to LGBTQIA+ safety represented by this legislation”.The site includes anonymous employee statements criticising Disney, a schedule of walkouts in protest and a detailed breakdown of the company’s donations to Florida politicians, including $106,809.38 to the “Friends of Ron DeSantis” political action committee.Jewett comments: “If you look at their donation record, they do give to candidates and elected officials of both parties but over the last 20 years they gave a lot more to Republicans because Republicans have been in charge of our state government for the last 20 years.“Like any big interest group, they want access and influence, and the best way to get that is to make sure you give to the party and people that are in charge. They give to a lot of Democrats, because they want those Democrats to be on their side too, but they have given a disproportionate amount to Republican legislators, many of whom supported and voted for the ‘don’t say gay’ bill. That’s what’s upset a lot of the employees.”The employee protests will culminate on Tuesday with a general walkout by LGBTQ workers and their supporters at Disney worksites in Florida, California and elsewhere. The Human Rights Campaign has said it will stop accepting money from Disney “until we see them build on their public commitment and work with LGBTQ+ advocates to ensure that dangerous proposals, like Florida’s ‘don’t say gay or trans’ bill, don’t become dangerous laws”.How did Chapek get it so wrong? Eric Marcus, creator and host of the Making Gay History podcast, says: “Disney has cultivated an LGBTQ-friendly image, both through their inclusion of LGBTQ characters in recent years and with their employees, so it’s shocking but not shocking that the CEO would have been so flat-footed. I don’t think he realised, although he should have, how much the world has changed.”Chapek is 61 years old. Marcus, who is 63, adds: “That means that he had zero education about LGBTQ history and so what he knows is what he’s picked up along the way and maybe from his diversity and inclusion team. So I’m guessing a lot of the flat-footedness is out of ignorance and also fear of doing the wrong thing.”Stung by the outcry, Chapek apologised and announced that the company was pausing all political donations in Florida. He told employees: “I truly believe we are an infinitely better and stronger company because of our LGBTQ+ community. I missed the mark in this case but am an ally you can count on – and I will be an outspoken champion for the protections, visibility and opportunity you deserve.”DeSantis, in typically combative style, responded by sending a campaign fundraising email that said: “Disney is in far too deep with the Communist Party of China and has lost any moral authority to tell you what to do.”Some activists welcome Chapek’s shift as better late than never. Wolf, the Equality Florida spokesperson who finished working at Disney World in 2013, says: “I don’t know much about Mr Chapek at all personally but it speaks volumes that he’s been willing to to meet with cast members and to acknowledge where his statements have fallen short.“I certainly think in a very divisive political climate, that’s a challenging thing to do. It also speaks to the need for continued growth around representation in leadership positions in corporate America generally.”The row has erupted when the multibillion-dollar Disney behemoth has never been more powerful. Its global franchise spans Marvel superheroes, the Star Wars saga, The Simpsons, National Geographic and Lin-Manuel Miranda, who with films such as Encanto projects an admirably inclusive, progressive, 21st-century vision.But Chapek’s memo to staff on 7 March, which cited “diverse stories” such as Black Panther, Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings and the TV series Modern Family as “more powerful than any tweet or lobbying effort”, implying that Disney’s content speaks for itself, has been questioned.For decades the studio’s output was steadfastly heterosexual even though its creative talents included gay people such as Howard Ashman, an Oscar winner who wrote the lyrics for The Little Mermaid and Beauty and the Beast before his death from Aids in 1991.There has been some progress since then with a growing LGBTQ portrayals in films and TV shows and the selling of LGBTQ pride-themed merchandise at Disney stores. Last year’s film Jungle Cruise featured a prominent gay character: McGregor Houghton, played by Jack Whitehall. But the struggle against erasure is far from over.In response to the current controversy, LGBTQ staff at Pixar, the animation studio owned by Disney, wrote in an open letter: “We at Pixar have personally witnessed beautiful stories, full of diverse characters, come back from Disney corporate reviews shaved down to crumbs of what they once were.“Nearly every moment of overtly gay affection is cut at Disney’s behest, regardless of when there is protest from both the creative teams and executive leadership at Pixar. Even if creating LGBTQIA+ content was the answer to fixing the discriminatory legislation in the world, we are being barred from creating it. Beyond the ‘inspiring content’ that we aren’t even allowed to create, we require action.”None of these recent events come as a surprise to Henry Giroux, a distinguished scholar in critical pedagogy at McMaster University in Hamilton, Canada, and author of The Mouse that Roared: Disney and the End of Innocence.He says: “What people really tend to underestimate and confuse is that many of the organisations that define themselves as simply avenues for entertainment are enormously powerful political and what I call pedagogical organisations. They shape identities, they shaped values, they get engaged in defining who is excluded and who isn’t, what people want and what people don’t.“The thing about Disney that’s interesting, more so in some ways than other organisations, is it hides behind this veil of innocence while at the same time it utterly commodifies children. It’s one of the top five major corporations that define the entertainment field and beyond all that it exercises enormous influence politically in Florida.”Giroux adds: “Now think about an organisation that basically supports DeSantis. They give money to these people and then they come out and they say, ‘Oh, we’re so sorry, we really are supporting LGBTQ people’. It’s just pure nonsense and is a kind of cover for politics that hides in the shadows.”TopicsWalt Disney CompanyFloridaLGBT rightsUS politicsfeaturesReuse this content More

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    Butt of the joke: Bette Midler fires back at West Virginia governor Jim Justice

    Butt of the joke: Bette Midler fires back at West Virginia governor Jim JusticeActor and activist says ‘dog’s ass would make a better governor’ after State of the State speech stunt goes viral Bette Midler had harsh words for the governor of West Virginia after he showed his dog’s backside at the end of his State of the State speech, in a bizarre rejoinder to the actor, singer and activist.Billionaire Republican backer donates to Manchin after he killed key Biden billRead moreResponding on Thursday to a tweet in which Midler called West Virginia “poor, illiterate and strung out”, the Republican Jim Justice said she could kiss his dog’s “hiney”.On Friday, Midler retweeted a picture of the stunt with the caption: “Here we can see a dog’s asshole. Right next to it is the butt of Jim Justice’s dog.”Midler also tweeted: “Here are the state rankings of all the areas and agencies for which the so-called ‘governor’ of West Virginia, Jim Justice, is responsible. Judging from these rankings, I’d say his dog’s ass would make a better governor than him!”The graphic, from US News and World Report, showed West Virginia scoring poorly in healthcare, education, economy and other categories and 47th overall among the 50 US states. The state tends to score poorly in such rankings.Justice, 70, a coalmining magnate who was elected as a Democrat, is an eccentric figure who often uses his English bulldog, Babydog, as a political prop. His State of the State speech, at the capitol in Charleston, was delayed after he contracted Covid-19.Midler angered the governor with comments in December that were prompted by her own anger towards the West Virginia senator Joe Manchin.Manchin, a Democrat, that month sank Joe Biden’s Build Back Better spending plan. This month, he stood in the way of Senate reform to facilitate the passage of voting rights protections.“What Joe Manchin, who represents a population smaller than Brooklyn, has done to the rest of America, who wants to move forward, not backward, like his state, is horrible,” Midler tweeted.“He sold us out. He wants us all to be just like his state, West Virginia. Poor, illiterate and strung out.”She later apologised to “the good people” of West Virginia.On Thursday, Justice chose to end an address in which he said too many people “doubted” West Virginians and “told every bad joke in the world about us” by lifting up his pet and flashing its bottom to the cameras and crowd.“Babydog tells Bette Midler and all those out there: Kiss her hiney,” he said as the crowd applauded. Attendees included lawmakers, state supreme court justices and agency heads. Members of a high school girl’s basketball team Justice coaches were present in the gallery.Shawn Fluharty, a Democratic state delegate, said: “The governor brought his Babydog and pony show to the State of the State and pulled this stunt as some bold statement.“It was nothing short of embarrassing and beneath the office. Jim Justice habitually lowers the bar of our state. They don’t laugh with us, but at us.”TopicsBette MidlerWest VirginiaRepublicansUS politicsnewsReuse this content More

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    Andres Serrano on his Capitol attack film: ‘I like that word, excruciating’

    InterviewAndres Serrano on his Capitol attack film: ‘I like that word, excruciating’Janelle ZaraThe provocative artist has made a shocking new ‘immersive experience’ for the one year anniversary of the 6 January attack Andres Serrano is not known as an especially political artist. The 71-year-old’s photographs are more accurately described as transgressive, perennially summed up with a singular point of reference: Piss Christ, his 1987 photo of a crucifix submerged in his own orange-tinted urine, which has over the years sparked multiple instances of national outrage. In the photographic series that followed, including The Klan (1990), The Morgue (1992), Shit (2007), and Nudes (2009), Serrano’s work has remained as provocative as it is aptly named.“I like to make the kind of pictures where you don’t need much more than the title to tell you what you’re looking at,” the artist said over the phone. As for his perpetual association with a single, 34-year-old work of art, he doesn’t mind: “Piss Christ is a good soundbite – easy to remember and repeat.”‘I was there’: Democrat recalls horror and fury on day of Capitol attackRead moreSerrano’s latest work, Insurrection (2022), takes a decidedly more political tone, having debuted in CulturalDC’s Source Theatre in Washington this week, the one-year anniversary of the Capitol attack. As the artist’s first-ever film, Insurrection offers a grim portrait of the United States, stitched together from found footage of the 6 January riot. True to the transgressive nature of Serrano’s practice, it zooms well past the point where ordinary news media would cut away: we get extended cuts of the sheer spectacle of violence, the smashing of windows, the prolonged attempt of one adrenalized horde of men to force its way past another. The frenzy climaxes with an uncut, closeup sequence of Ashli Babbitt’s death, and her subsequent martyrdom in a eulogy by the former president. Much of Insurrection is nothing short of excruciating to watch.“I like that word, excruciating,” Serrano says. “What I intended to make was an immersive experience that takes you to Washington DC on January 6 in real time.”In close collaboration with the London-based organization a/political, Serrano began working on the film in April, feeling compelled to respond to the day’s events on multiple levels. He was appalled by the racial dynamics that played out on the Capitol steps, as white rioters who had broken into a federal building were gently escorted out: “Black people get killed for a lot less than storming the Capitol, and these white people got treated with kid gloves.”To him, the Capitol insurrection was also an extension of Donald Trump’s legacy of divisiveness and fraud, a subject the artist had begun to explore in his 2018 installation The Game: All Things Trump. The former president’s widely accepted version of events – that these were righteous citizens protesting a rigged election – represented not only a triumph of fake news, but his continued hold over the Republican party.“This guy has to be commended for having the charisma that Hitler had with the German people; there are Americans who don’t believe it really happened, and Republicans who say let’s forget about it and move on,” Serrano says. “I wanted to make a film that anyone would have a difficult time walking away from saying ‘We should forget about it.’”Spanning 75 minutes, Insurrection comprises news clips and smartphone footage culled from around the internet, alongside archival imagery dating back to the riots of the Great Depression. The score is a mix of American ballads that range from Bob Dylan’s You Ain’t Goin’ Nowhere to a children’s rendition of the historic civil war song, Battle Hymn of the Republic. As rioters march toward the Capitol steps, the incessant repetition of “glory, glory hallelujah” emphasizes the role that Christianity, a recurring theme in Serrano’s practice, plays in validating violence in American mythology. “There are groups of people who believe they have the right interpretations of Christ, not only in how they should live their lives, but how the rest of us should live ours,” he says. “They’re going into battle like Crusaders in their holy war.”The musical interludes and title cards interspersed throughout – “D.J. Trump Presents Insurrection”; “The Killing of Ashli Babbitt” – were inspired by Birth of a Nation, a 1915 silent civil war film condemned for its heroic portrayal of the Ku Klux Klan. The inclusion of these historical references is a reminder, according to Serrano, that “history repeats itself in specific ways.” The insurrection was not a novel event, but another instance of division within a nation that never recovered from civil war, he adds, citing the widespread refusal to accept Biden’s presidency as a resonant parallel. “There are also a lot of people who’ll never accept that the north won, and who’d love to go back to the good ol’ days. Donald Trump was there to tell those people what they wanted to hear.”Despite the symbolic criticism embedded throughout the insurrection, Serrano is actually reluctant to speak poorly of Trump, whom he photographed in 2004 for his America series. “This guy is a massive showman; he’s incredible at it, and I could see why he’s gone this far in life. He did not wreak damage on America – America was damaged already.” As for the Capitol rioters, he refuses to condemn anyone, nor say that they belong in jail: “I tried to humanize this crowd, to show their faces and hear what they’re saying. That’s what gives a work of art power: when you let people speak for themselves.”Serrano makes an important distinction in his practice: while provocation is essential to bringing art to life, he is not in the business of political messaging, telling his viewers what or how to think: “A lot of times I look at work, particularly paintings or pictures on the wall, and I’m not particularly moved,” he says. “The one thing I always try to do, whether it’s photographs or with this film, is to give you something to react to. I’m not concerned too much about how you’re going to feel about it, good or bad, but the important thing is that you’re not indifferent. You can’t walk away from it, and say, ‘I didn’t feel nothing.’”TopicsFilmArtUS Capitol attackUS politicsinterviewsReuse this content More

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    Jon Ronson and Adam Curtis on the culture wars: ‘How has this happened? Where is the escape hatch?’

    As Ronson’s BBC podcast Things Fell Apart begins, the documentary-makers and old friends discuss conspiracy theories, the problem of ‘activist journalists’ and what happened to Ceaușescu’s socksby Fiona SturgesJon Ronson and Adam Curtis became friends in the late 1990s, having bonded over their shared interests in power, society and the stories we tell about ourselves. Curtis, 66, is a Bafta-winning documentary film-maker whose credits include The Power of Nightmares: The Rise of the Politics of Fear and HyperNormalisation. His most recent six-part series, Can’t Get You Out of My Head, draws on the history of psychology and politics to show how we got to where we are today. Ronson, 54, is a US-based Welsh writer and journalist whose books include 2015’s So You’ve Been Publicly Shamed, about social media brutality and the history of public shaming. In recent years, Ronson has turned to podcasting, investigating the porn industry in The Butterfly Effect and its follow-up The Last Days of August.Sign up to our Inside Saturday newsletter for an exclusive behind-the-scenes look at the making of the magazine’s biggest features, as well as a curated list of our weekly highlights.His forthcoming BBC podcast, Things Fell Apart, is about the roots of the culture wars and the ways the present is echoed in the past. Over eight episodes, he talks to individuals caught up in ideological conflicts, conspiracy theories and moral panics. These include Alice Moore, the wife of a fundamentalist minister and unexpected culture war instigator who campaigned to remove textbooks containing liberal material from schools, and Kelly Michaels, a daycare worker and victim of the “satanic panic” who was wrongfully imprisoned in 1988 by a New Jersey court for child abuse (the verdict was overturned in 1993).We are on: Curtis is talking from his office in London while Ronson is at home in New York. By way of preparation before their chat, Curtis has binged on Ronson’s new series. No sooner are cameras switched on than the reminiscences begin.Jon Ronson Do you remember that time we went to an auction of [the late Romanian dictator Nicolae] Ceaușescu’s belongings?Adam Curtis Yes, now that was exciting.JR It was. We went on a minibreak to Romania together.AC I bought Ceaușescu’s cap, and a pair of socks.JR I also got a pair of socks. There was some very heavy bidding from a mysterious gentleman who got all the ornaments. The prices were getting pretty high so I stuck with the socks. I don’t even know where they are now. I bet you know where your stuff is.AC I do, actually.JR We have had many conversations over the years and generally I find I’m asking you questions because I’m trying to get ideas. I always think of you as a fantastic source of insights into the future. In the early days of social media, you were the very first person to say to me: “Don’t think of this as a utopia. There are some problems here.” There are two or three people in my life where, when they talk, I really want to listen to what they have to say, and you are one of those.AC That is completely not true. What actually happens is that I bollock on about theories which you completely ignore and then you go off on your stories. Anyway, I’m trying to remember when we actually met.JR I think the first time I met you was when I made the [1997] documentary Tottenham Ayatollah and you came to the screening.AC And your wife Elaine invited me to meet you in a cafe off Tottenham Court Road. She said: “Can you come and talk to him? Then you could take some of the pressure off me by talking about his film.”JR She probably said: “I can’t take it any more. He won’t stop agonising.”AC But when we met you didn’t agonise at all. I think what we recognised in each other – and it’s been the professional bond between us – is that we’re both interested in what happens outside those normal areas that most political journalists examine that involve politics and power. We want to look at things like psychology and how a conspiracy theory plays out and how feelings work through society.JR I’m really surprised at how frequently the things that we tell stories about overlap. But the way we go about it is so different. I think your brain works better thinking about theories and my brain works better thinking about stories.AC I think you and I are creatures of our time. I got interested in this idea that power now works not through traditional forms but through the idea of individualism; it says you should be allowed to do what you want to do, but we will serve you to get that. You and I both know what it’s like to be an obsessive individualist, but we’ve become intrigued by how that plays out in a society in which you’ve got lots of people wanting to be individuals. I’ve always had this theory that self-expression is the conformity of our age. The most radical thing you can do is something extraordinary like walking naked around the world, and not tell anyone that you’ve done it. You can’t post anything online. When you say that to people, they can’t conceive of it.JR I really like that idea.AC The other thing that we both do when we’re interviewing people is not follow a list of questions. You go into a situation where you have questions in your head but suddenly they’ll say something which is either funny or unexpected and you just learn to go with it. It’s like suddenly a little piglet swerves off from the herd, and you go with it up and over the hill.JR One positive thing that has been said about what I do is that there’s a sincerity to it. I never go into something with an idea of how it will turn out.AC We’re talking about sincerity? Don’t go there, Jon! You’ll be writing poems next.JR [Laughs] Well it’s really to do with trying to figure out what I think from my research without being told what to think by other people. I think people appreciate the fact that I’ve worked hard to come to the thoughts I’ve come to.AC Yes, I agree with that.JR I guess what we have in common is we’re not ideologues. We don’t go into a situation with a set of agendas. We’re more willing to be a twig in the river of the story and just go where it takes us. By doing that we’re forced to keep an open mind. I don’t even have a list of questions in my head when I’m interviewing somebody. I’m literally a tightrope walker with no safety net, and I have, on many occasions, plummeted to my death like in Squid Game.AC I think that open-mindedness is clear in your podcast. And it’s absolutely the right time to examine the roots of what we’re calling the culture wars, which is such a difficult and sensitive area. So much journalism, when it goes back into the past to see why something happened, always interviews the people who are defined as the actors, the people who consciously set out to [create conflict]. What I’m increasingly intrigued by is the people who were acted upon by that thing or idea. Because the way ideas or concepts play out in society are never the way that the people who started them think. What you’ve done in these programmes is follow individuals who are acted upon by these forces, because it shows you the real dimensions of what these things called culture wars are.JR Well, I realised that I would watch people become overconsumed by these cultural conflicts, to the extent that it was impacting their mental health and tearing families apart. But every show that’s about the culture ends up a part of the culture wars, and I didn’t want to do that. So I thought the way to do it was by focusing on a moment and a human story and tell that story in as unexpected a way as possible. In the end we found eight stories about the complexity of human life and they all happen to be origin stories. These are the pebbles being thrown in the pond and creating these ripples.AC Yes, these people have got caught up in the great tides of history that have come sweeping over them. It feels real. If you follow people who are acted upon, you start to understand, in a much more sympathetic way, why people do things that you might not like or approve of. You see how someone is led to something, with no idea of the consequences. In the first two episodes, you talk about how the evangelical movement up until the early 1970s had been completely detached from any involvement in the moral, political or social questions of American society. And what you trace is how two people got sucked into a particular issue, which then acted like a fuse to reawaken the evangelical movement.JR For decades the Christian right were silent: they consumed their own media, they went to their own churches and they listened to their own radio shows, and they were totally unengaged with what was happening. But then a few things happened that finally galvanised them into becoming soldiers in a culture war, and one was a new diversity of thought in school textbooks. In the series I talk to Alice Moore, who is in her 80s now and was one of the earliest cultural warriors for the evangelical right. She was a church minister’s wife in West Virginia who discovered there was going to be a new sex education lesson taught in schools, and she wasn’t having that. So she got on to the school board, and then the new curriculum arrived in 1974 that was full of all these multicultural voices, and things got so heated over just one semester that school buses were shot at – in fact, shots were fired from both sides – and a school was bombed. And I discovered while talking to Alice that one of the reasons for the intensity of the anger was a misinterpretation of a poem [that appeared in one of the new school textbooks].AC By Roger McGough!JR Yes. It was a poem [1967’s At Lunchtime: A Story of Love] that featured a spontaneous orgy that takes place on a bus, because the passengers thought the world was about to end at lunchtime in a nuclear war. So Alice was reading out this poem to me and I was thinking: “I don’t think this is in favour of spontaneous orgies on buses. I think this poet is agreeing with you, to an extent.” So then I went off to talk to Roger about it.AC And then you went back to Alice, and she was quite grumpy about it, which was funny. But I think this is a beautiful example of what we were talking about. As I was listening to that episode I was thinking: “Hang on, this isn’t quite as bad as she thinks it is.” And then, Jon’s brain is thinking the same thing, but without judgment.JR I like to steer clear of conflict as much as I can.AC Which is good and also rare. Most people would pursue her with their agenda. Right now, everyone is judged as either being good or bad. It’s good versus evil – that’s where journalism has got to now. But yours doesn’t do that.JR I’m interested in everybody as a human being and I’m quite startled by the myriad examples of the media being a part of the culture wars. It seems to happen everywhere, this mistelling of a story so it fits into a particular ideology a little more clearly. It happens on all sides. I get very disheartened when CNN lies to me or is biased or omits certain aspects of the truth to tell a certain version of the story. During the Trump years I really felt that with CNN. I felt like I was in QAnon and my Q was Anderson Cooper.AC I would read the New York Times all about the close friendship between Vladimir Putin and Donald Trump. And I know enough Russian journalists who I trust to know that it’s just complete rubbish. So hysteria happened on both sides. I mean if you go back over reports even from my own organisation, the BBC, about how Trump was actually an agent of Putin, it’s extraordinary. It’s a conspiracy theory. That’s as much of a panic as anything else you get on the right.JR I also think a lot of journalists are, like: “Oh my God. All this time I’ve just been a liberal but look at these things that are happening: Trump’s election, George Floyd.” So they think it’s not enough to be a liberal journalist, they have to be an activist journalist. And I think it’s completely understandable and, in some cases, it’s a great thing. But then in other cases, it’s really troublesome because journalism now has pre-existing ideologies.AC And then journalism lifts off from Planet Real and goes off into the realms of histrionic personality disorder. I actually think histrionic personality disorder describes most of the progressive classes in western societies, in that they’ve given up on their progressivism and retreated into a histrionic attitude to the world.JR I do think these stories tell us an awful lot about the way we live our lives today. In the satanic panic episode, which is about moral panics in the 1980s, you think it’s going to be about the parallels today with QAnon. But it becomes clear that there are also parallels with the panics on the left today, and that we all have these cognitive biases. I tell this story in which daycare workers are being accused of satanic activity, which clearly never happened, and where people actually went to jail. Suddenly it wasn’t just the Christian right worried about satanic cults at the end of your street, but mainstream America. When the flame is burning hot, we can all act in irrational, brutal or inhuman ways, and you see it across the spectrum.AC The series did make me think: how has this happened? Not just the culture wars but their ferocity. And where is the escape hatch? Because I think all sides now feel that there’s something not quite right. If you examine the years since Trump and Brexit, there has been this enormous hysteria in newspapers and on television about it. But actually the politicians have done nothing to change society. It’s almost been like a frozen world. So, I think the real answer to why this is happening is because politics has failed. It’s become this dead area, this desert surrounded by thinktanks, and someone’s got to get in there and regenerate it. The new politics is waiting to come. And I think it will happen.Jon Ronson’s Things Fell Apart continues Tuesday, 9am Radio 4 and BBC Sounds. It will be available in the US and Canada exclusively on BBC Podcasts Premium on Apple Podcasts. Adam Curtis’s Can’t Get You Out of My Head is on BBC iPlayer.TopicsJon RonsonAdam CurtisPodcastsPodcastingUS politicsfeaturesReuse this content More