by Erin Nicole
Today is Texas Independence Day! 190 years ago today, 59 delegates signed the Texas Declaration of Independence and the Republic of Texas was born.
To celebrate this day, here are just a a sampling Texas art from the pulp and paperback era!
by Robert McGinnis
by Sam Cherry
Unknown Artist
Unknown Artist
by Allen Gustav Anderson
by Sam Cherry
by Sam Cherry
by Sam Cherry
Happy Texas Independence Day!
by Erin Nicole
“Those who cling to death; live. Those who cling to life; die.” – Caine
John Wick: Chapter 4 is the kind of action movie that doesn’t just lean into the spotlight—it steps into it, throws a flak vest over its suit, and then spends the next three hours filleting an entire world of assassins with brutal, balletic precision. At this point in the franchise, you’re either all‑in on the rules of the High Table, the Continental, and Wick’s endless mourning for his wife Helen, or you’re just here for the sheer spectacle of seeing Keanu Reeves beat up a continent’s worth of bad guys. The film not only respects that split audience, it tries really hard to satisfy both with a mix of operatic emotion, globe‑trotting locations, and a ridiculous amount of meticulously choreographed carnage.
One of the first things that stands out in John Wick: Chapter 4 is how much the world has expanded since the first film. The script doesn’t reinvent the core idea—Wick wants out, the system wants him broken, and the only way he can be free is by killing his way to the top—but it does layer on new zones, new factions, and a whole supporting cast of assassins who feel like they’re pulled out of their own B‑movies. From Morocco to Berlin, from New York to Paris, the film leans into a kind of hyper‑theatrical world‑building where every hotel lobby, nightclub, and underground fighting arena looks like it was designed by a comic‑book artist with a fetish for brutalism and neon lighting. That’s not a bad thing; it makes the universe feel lived‑in, even if it occasionally borders on self‑parody. The film also shuffles in a few fresh faces that give the usual assassin lineup some new flavors, including Donnie Yen as Caine, the stoic, blind assassin who carries both lethal efficiency and a quiet moral weight; Hiroyuki Sanada as the disciplined Shimazu, whose traditional demeanor and craftsmanship with a sword add a very grounded, almost old‑world element to the chaos; and Rina Sawayama as the high‑ranking assassin Akira, whose presence brings a mix of ruthless professionalism and a genuinely intriguing emotional arc that doesn’t feel like an afterthought.
There’s also Scott Adkins playing against his usual type as Killa Harkan, the head of the German Branch of the High Table, showing up in a surprisingly decent‑looking fat suit that gives him a grotesquely imposing presence while still hinting at the physicality audiences know from his other action roles. The character leans into the film’s tendency toward the theatrical, but he’s not just a walking gag; he fits into the world as one of the more visually exaggerated enforcers of the High Table’s rule. Alongside him, Shamier Anderson brings a lean, relentless energy as the Tracker, Wick’s shadowy, almost dog‑like pursuer whose loyalty to the system makes him more than just another interchangeable goon, while Marko Zaror crops up in the Berlin arena sequences as a brutal, wiry fighter whose style adds yet another distinct flavor to the movie’s unusually diverse fight roster. Taken together, these additions don’t just pad the body count; they give the film a sense that the John Wick universe is big enough to host everyone from classical swordsmen to modern martial‑arts specialists and even a few horror‑movie‑style fanatics, all orbiting the same doomed man.
The villain this time around is the Marquis Vincent Bisset de Gramont, played by Bill Skarsgård, and he’s the kind of High Table emissary who exists purely to make John’s life harder while reminding the audience that the system is more bureaucratic than it is mysterious. He’s got the cold, manipulative air of a corporate executive who’s never actually touched a gun but still has the power to ruin people’s lives on paper. His presence allows the film to spend more time on the politics of the assassin underground, which in turn forces John to pull in a wider network of allies, return favors, and, in a few cases, rebuild old friendships that were already on thin ice. That network includes the Bowery King, Caine, and the rest of the new cast, all of whom add texture to the usual slug‑fest even if the plot’s core emotional arc is still very much about a man who keeps remembering the wife he can’t get back.
Where Chapter 4 really flexes its muscles is in the action, and nowhere is that more obvious than in the extended Paris set‑piece that basically becomes the film’s centerpiece. It starts on the open city streets at night, with Wick already on the move, guns blazing and bodies piling up as the camera weaves through car‑chase energy and close‑quarters shoving. The chaos then escalates when the sequence shifts to the Arc de Triomphe roundabout, where the circular layout turns the whole area into a spinning, three‑dimensional shooting gallery. Cars whip around the monument, bullets ricochet off stone and metal, and the sheer spatial awareness of the choreography makes it feel like you’re watching a real‑time videogame map being systematically cleared in concentric circles, except the “map” is an iconic piece of Parisian infrastructure.
The escalation doesn’t stop there. The action migrates into a mostly empty, half‑abandoned apartment complex that feels like a brutalist concrete maze, each floor and hallway turning into a new arena for sprinting, reloading, and last‑minute dodges. The geography of the building becomes a character of its own, with shots that snake down stairwells, peer through doorways, and frame John as a lone figure ducking and weaving through a vertical death‑trap. It’s inside this apartment complex that the film drops one of its most memorable visual flourishes: a frenetic, prolonged shootout using dragon’s breath shotgun shells—incendiary rounds that send flaming pellets spraying outward—captured from an isometric, top‑down angle that directly evokes the look of indie action‑game favorites like The Hong Kong Massacre. The camera rides high above each room as Wick storms through, watching clusters of fire and bullets explode outward in geometric patterns, turning the interior layout into a living level map. It’s a moment that feels less like traditional cinema and more like a loving, hyper‑stylized homage to the way videogames can turn gunplay into a choreographed light show.
The final stretch of this extended Paris gauntlet is the brutal climb up the Rue Foyatier stairway to the Sacré‑Cœur steps, where the film’s choreographic and camera work reach their most expressionistic peak. The wide shots of Paris looming below, the narrowing of the stairway itself, and the way the camera sometimes drifts into an almost dreamlike, slightly elevated angle all combine to make the sequence feel like an endurance ritual rather than just another fight. By the time Wick reaches the top—after being hurled back down and forced to claw his way up again—the audience feels just as exhausted as he looks, which is exactly the point.
That’s part of what makes the film work when it isn’t just going hand‑to‑hand with you for nearly three hours. Beneath all the shooting and stabbing, John Wick: Chapter 4 is also quietly insistent on the idea that this is a tragedy. John Wick isn’t just a guy who happened to fall into a secret society of killers; he’s a man who has been reshaped by grief, loss, and the realization that every compromise he’s made along the way has only made his cage tighter. The film doesn’t over‑explain this; instead, it lets you watch him limp, cough up blood, and drag his battered frame through one more ambush, as if his body is the only thing strong enough to keep him breathing. The supporting characters—especially those tied to the High Table or to his past, including the newer faces like Caine, Shimazu, Akira, Killa Harkan, the Tracker, and the arena fighters—get a few moments to show that they’re not just cannon fodder, either. They have responsibilities, hierarchies, and codes that clash with the arbitrary cruelty of the Table, even if most of them still end up in the path of Wick’s bullets.
On the flip side, the movie is also unapologetically aware of how silly it is. There’s a knowing winking about the dialogue, the neon‑lit set designs, and the way lines like “You have until sunrise” are delivered with the gravity of a Shakespearean prophecy. The film doesn’t try to make you forget that this is ultimately a high‑end first‑person‑shooter turned into a live‑action ballet. It leans into the absurdity of escalating stakes, the way the world keeps conspiring to throw more and more assassins at John, and the fact that even when he’s bleeding out, he still insists on finishing a fight with a signature flourish. For some viewers, that will feel like a strength, a kind of self‑aware celebration of the genre. For others, it’ll feel like the moment the franchise tips from cool to camp, especially when the pacing starts to drag a bit in the middle section and the mix of formal duels, fat‑suited branch leaders, and endless negotiations begins to feel a little overstuffed.
The film’s length is its biggest liability. At around 169 minutes, John Wick: Chapter 4 is not shy about giving you more than enough time to live inside its world, but it also doesn’t always feel like it needs every last minute. The middle act, in particular, spends a lot of time on formalities, treaties, duels, and metaphysical negotiations with the High Table, which can slow the momentum when what you really want is for John to do another hallway‑fight or another truck‑pile‑up. There are times when the script feels like it’s stretching itself out to keep the spectacle going rather than tightening the storytelling, and that’s when the silliness of it all—like the deliberately over‑the‑top presence of Killa Harkan and the packed gallery of new faces—can start to work against the emotional weight the film is trying to build. A leaner, more ruthless edit would probably make the overall experience feel sharper and more focused.
Still, there’s a lot to admire in what the film manages to pull off. The sound design, the camera work, and the way the choreography is almost always shot in wide, relatively clear takes all combine to make the action feel substantial rather than edited into incomprehensible chaos. The supporting cast—Donnie Yen, Hiroyuki Sanada, Rina Sawayama, Scott Adkins, Shamier Anderson, Marko Zaror, and others—add texture and personality to a world that could otherwise feel like a series of interchangeable goons. They’re not just there to get shot; they’re there to give the film a sense of a larger, more complicated ecosystem of killers, each with their own rules and reasons.
In the end, John Wick: Chapter 4 is less a strict narrative continuation and more of a cinematic endurance event. It doesn’t reinvent the franchise, but it pushes the Wick formula into more extreme, more theatrical, and more emotionally committed territory. It’s messy in places, overstuffed in others, but it also has a few moments of pure, jaw‑dropping action that will probably end up in “best of the decade” lists among genre fans, especially that Paris mega‑set‑piece that starts on open streets, spirals through the Arc de Triomphe, invades an empty apartment complex for that dragon’s‑breath top‑down firefight, and climaxes on the Rue Foyatier stairs. If you’re someone who cares about emotional coherence and tight plotting, the film will probably test your patience. If you’re someone who’s here for the ballet of bullets, the operatic bloodshed, the eccentric new cast, and the sight of Keanu Reeves refusing to stay down no matter how many times the universe tries to kill him, then John Wick: Chapter 4 is a pretty satisfying send‑off—or at least a very loud, very stylish stop on the way there.
Weapons used by John Wick throughout the film
John Wick Franchise (spinoffs)
It was a good night for Sinners. Victories at both the Actor Awards and the Eddie Awards would seem to indicate that the film has a shot at pulling off an upset. Still, One Battle After Another won with both the DGA and PGA and it probably still has to be considered front runner.
Here are the winners, listed in bold. I slept through the ceremony because I took some pain killers for my ankle.
OUTSTANDING PERFORMANCE BY A CAST IN A MOTION PICTURE
Frankenstein
Hamnet
Marty Supreme
One Battle After Another
Sinners
OUTSTANDING PERFORMANCE BY A MALE ACTOR IN A LEADING ROLE
Timothée Chalamet – Marty Supreme
Leonardo DiCaprio – One Battle After Another
Ethan Hawke – Blue Moon
Michael B. Jordan – Sinners
Jesse Plemons – Bugonia
OUTSTANDING PERFORMANCE BY A FEMALE ACTOR IN A LEADING ROLE
Jessie Buckley – Hamnet
Rose Byrne – If I Had Legs I’d Kick You
Kate Hudson – Song Sung Blue
Chase Infiniti – One Battle After Another
Emma Stone – Bugonia
OUTSTANDING PERFORMANCE BY A FEMALE ACTOR IN A SUPPORTING ROLE
Odessa A’zion – Marty Supreme
Ariana Grande – Wicked: For Good
Amy Madigan – Weapons
Wunmi Mosaku – Sinners
Teyana Taylor – One Battle After Another
OUTSTANDING PERFORMANCE BY A MALE ACTOR IN A SUPPORTING ROLE
Miles Caton – Sinners
Benicio del Toro – One Battle After Another
Jacob Elordi – Frankenstein
Paul Mescal – Hamnet
Sean Penn – One Battle After Another
OUTSTANDING PERFORMANCE BY AN ENSEMBLE IN A DRAMA SERIES
The Diplomat
Landman
The Pitt
Severance
The White Lotus
OUTSTANDING PERFORMANCE BY A MALE ACTOR IN A TELEVISION MOVIE OR LIMITED SERIES
Jason Bateman – Black Rabbit
Owen Cooper – Adolescence
Stephen Graham- Adolescence
Charlie Hunnam – Monster: The Ed Gein Story
Matthew Rhys – The Beast In Me
OUTSTANDING PERFORMANCE BY AN ENSEMBLE IN A COMEDY SERIES
Abbott Elementary
The Bear
Hacks
Only Murders in the Building
The Studio
OUTSTANDING PERFORMANCE BY A MALE ACTOR IN A DRAMA SERIES
Sterling K. Brown – Paradise
Billy Crudup – The Morning Show
Walton Goggins – The White Lotus
Gary Oldman – Slow Horses
Noah Wyle – The Pitt
OUTSTANDING PERFORMANCE BY A FEMALE ACTOR IN A COMEDY SERIES
Kathryn Hahn – The Studio
Catherine O’Hara – The Studio
Jenna Ortega – Wednesday
Jean Smart – Hacks
Kristen Wiig – Palm Royale
OUTSTANDING PERFORMANCE BY A FEMALE ACTOR IN A TELEVISION MOVIE OR LIMITED SERIES
Claire Danes – The Beast In Me
Erin Doherty – Adolescence
Sarah Snook – All Her Fault
Christine Tremarco – Adolescence
Michelle Williams – Dying For Sex
OUTSTANDING PERFORMANCE BY A MALE ACTOR IN A COMEDY SERIES
Ike Barinholtz – The Studio
Adam Brody – Nobody Wants This
Ted Danson – A Man On The Inside
Seth Rogen – The Studio
Martin Short – Only Murders in the Building
OUTSTANDING PERFORMANCE BY A FEMALE ACTOR IN A DRAMA SERIES
Britt Lower – Severance
Parker Posey – The White Lotus
Keri Russell – The Diplomat
Rhea Seehorn – Pluribus
Aimee Lou Wood – The White Lotus
OUTSTANDING STUNT ENSEMBLE IN A MOTION PICTURE
F1
Frankenstein
Mission: Impossible — The Final Reckoning
One Battle After Another
Sinners
OUTSTANDING STUNT ENSEMBLE IN A TELEVISION SERIES
Andor
Landman
The Last of Us
Squid Game
Stranger Things
Hi, everyone! Tonight, on twitter, I will be hosting one of my favorite films for #MondayMania! Join us for 2012’s Teenage Bank Heist!
You can find the movie on Prime and Tubi and then you can join us on twitter at 9 pm central time! (That’s 10 pm for you folks on the East Coast.) See you then!
A friend of mine recently watched Cooley High for the first time. We both agreed that the film ends on two powerful musical notes, first with It’s So Hard To Say Goodbye playing over the scenes of Cochise’s funeral and then with today’s song of the day playing over the scenes of Preach literally running towards his future.
Here is Reach Out (I’ll Be There) by The Four Tops.
I always enjoy it when good actors go totally over-the-top and that is certainly the case with today’s scene that I love. In 1976’s Logan’s Run, the normally very reserved Michael York tries to let the people of the City know that “you can live! LIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE!”
Actually, as much as I enjoy York’s performance here, what truly makes the scene memorable is the way that everyone just ignores him and shuffles off to “renewal,” despite Logan’s attempts to convince them that they “don’t have to DIE!” Logan’s Run is often dismissed as being a campy but enjoyable sci-fi film but, in this scene, we get a good portrayal of what a brainwashed populace truly looks like.
4 Shots From 4 Films is just what it says it is, 4 shots from 4 of our favorite films. As opposed to the reviews and recaps that we usually post, 4 Shots From 4 Films lets the visuals do the talking!
On this day, 112 years ago, Martin Ritt was born in New York City. Like many of the Hollywood directors who came to prominence in the 1950s, he started his directorial career in the theater before moving over to live TV. In 1952, his television career was derailed when he was accused of being a communist. Blacklisted, it would be five years before Ritt could get another directing job. When he did start to work again, he moved from television into the movies, starting with 1957’s Edge of the City. Perhaps due to his own experiences, his films always had a social conscience and always defended the individual against corrupt corporations and governments. In 1976, he directed one of the first films about the Hollywood blacklist, The Front.
As a director, Ritt was known for his skill with actors. More than anyone, he played a huge role in making stars out of both Paul Newman and Sally Field. He was also one of the few directors to understand how to harness Richard Burton’s self-destructive tendencies and, as a result, Burton gave one of his best performances in Ritt’s adaptation of The Spy Who Came In From The Cold.
It’s time for….
4 Shots From 4 Martin Ritt Films
Edge of the City (1957, dir by Martin Ritt, DP: Joseph Brun)
Paris Blues (1961, dir by Martin Ritt, DP: Christian Matras)
Hud (1963, dir by Martin Ritt, DP: James Wong Howe)
The Spy Who Came In From The Cold (1965, dir by Martin Ritt, DP: Oswald Morris)
As some of our regular readers undoubtedly know, I am involved in hosting a few weekly live tweets on twitter and occasionally Mastodon. I host #FridayNightFlix every Friday, I co-host #ScarySocial on Saturday, and I am one of the five hosts of Mastodon’s #MondayActionMovie! Every week, we get together. We watch a movie. We snark our way through it.
Tonight, for #MondayActionMovie, the film will be 1977’s Amsterdam Kill!
It should make for a night of fun viewing and I invite all of you to join in. If you want to join the live tweets, just hop onto Mastodon, find the movie on YouTube and hit play at 8 pm et, and use the #MondayActionMovie hashtag! The watch party community is a friendly group and welcoming of newcomers so don’t be shy.
See you soon!
Jeff and I spent most of the second half of February up at Lake Texoma. In the past, taking two weeks off wouldn’t have been that big a deal but two weeks in 2026 is the equivalent of two years in any other news cycle. During our vacation, there were a lot of things that I heard about that I wanted to comment on. This is a culture and entertainment blog and we’re living in a moment of enormous cultural upheaval. In the future, historians will try to figure out the enigma of the 2020s. Who knows? Maybe they’re reading this typo-filled post right now.
Below are a few thoughts. They are my thoughts so don’t get mad at any other contributor on here if you disagree.
It’s Lent!
I gave up cursing for Lent. Not that I ever really curse to begin with….
What’s funny is that, as I soon as I gave up cursing, I suddenly found myself wanting to curse.
How irrelevant are the Oscars?
In the past, movies were definitely a part of our shared culture. Whenever there was a huge national news story, it was common to hear it compared to a recent film. Often times, movies would be cited as a way to learn about whatever was happening in the world.
But today, in a time of economic uncertainty, no one is talking about Nomadland. In a time when the press claimed to be under attack, no one is recommending Spotlight. With everything that has happened in Iran, no one has mentioned Argo. These were all films that won Best Picture and they are also all films that have left absolutely no cultural footprint. (Don’t even get me started on Green Book….)
That’s not say the Oscars are totally irrelevant. Oppenheimer definitely left a cultural footprint, though I think that has more to do with Christopher Nolan than anything else. The days of a film being relevant solely because it won an Oscar are pretty much over with.
The Case of James Talarico
I’m not one of those people who feels that Stephen Colbert or Jimmy Kimmel should be shamed for having political guests. It seems like every time there’s another controversy about Colbert or Kimmel, a hundred people tweet that Johnny Carson was never overly partisan. That may be true but neither Colbert nor Kimmel are Johnny Carson and, for that matter, neither has really said that they aspired to be him. That Colbert’s show would be political shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone. Colbert has always been political and, even when he would joke about running for President while hosting The Colbert Report, there was a gleam in his eye that leaves little doubt that he’ll be running for something as soon as he’s done with CBS. As for Kimmel, I do feel that he was more effective when he was a blue collar, anti-establishment goofball as opposed to a partisan commentator. But again, times have changed and the old argument for late night television — that it was the only way that celebrities could advertise their projects and reach the public — has pretty much been negated by social media, YouTube, TikTok, and all the rest. Late night programming on network television is dying but I imagine that would be the case regardless of who hosted.
That said, I have always wondered how both Colbert and Kimmel have managed to avoid the equal time rule. This is the rule that states that, if a show features a candidate in an upcoming election, it also has to give equal time to the candidate’s opponent. (In 2024, when Saturday Night Live featured Kamala Harris in a skit, NBC had to give Donald Trump some time during NASCAR.) Kimmel and especially Colbert have become a part of every up-and-coming Democrat’s itinerary. Their shows have become a place for politicians to go and pretend to have some sort of personality.
That brings us to James Talarico. Talarico is a youngish and religious state representative who is running in the Democratic nomination for the U.S. Senate in my home state of Texas. Democrats outside of Texas have fallen in love with him and are convinced that Talarico can turn Texas blue because he’s a white guy who quotes the Bible. (A friend of mine in Ireland even contacted me to tell me how much he liked Talarico.) To win the primary, he’s going to have to defeat U.S. Rep. Jasmine Crockett, who has a national following and who is a very liberal black woman. The Democratic establishment has made it clear that they feel Crockett cannot win a statewide election in Texas, specifically because she is a liberal black woman. For that reason, they’ve been promoting the heck out of James Talarico. (This is similar to what we saw in 2020, when the DNC essentially ordered people to support MJ Hegar over Royce West.)
On February 16th, Stephen Colbert announced that CBS had forbidden him for airing an interview with James Talarico because the interview might violate the equal time rule. Colbert put the interview on YouTube and Talarico announced that it was “the interview that Donald Trump doesn’t want you to see.” A lot of people took the bait, spent fifteen minutes watching Colbert trying to make the bland Talarico interesting, and then sent money to Talarico’s campaign. Talarico got his moment in the spotlight.
Of course, later it was revealed that all CBS did was inform Colbert that he might be required to interview Jasmine Crockett if the Talarico interview aired on primetime television. The interview was pulled not because of a conspiracy to silence James Talarico but instead because Colbert didn’t want to have Crockett on the show. Crockett is currently leading Talarico in most polls. Talarico is not a particularly interesting person so there was really no point to interviewing him — and only him — beyond to boost him over Crockett.
In the end, all of this has been a reminder of how politics and entertainment, for better or worse, have collided. The DNC has made clear that it prefers Talarico over Crockett. Colbert was on hand to help out. And the equal time rule, which was first proposed by FDR, became a convenient mechanism to make Talarico seem more dangerous than he is.
You may have guessed that I’m not a huge James Talarico fan. It’s true, I’m not. I don’t trust politicians who brag about how religious they are. If you’re that religious, why are you involved in a dirty business like politics? Why are you lying about why your interview got pulled? Despite all of this, most polls still have Crockett winning the Democratic Primary on Tuesday. I’m not a huge Crockett fan but I’m hoping she pulls it off because I don’t know if I can handle 8 months of James Talarico telling me what God wants me to do.
Suddenly, I love hockey!
On February 22nd, I was one of the many people who watched the U.S. Men’s Hockey Team defeat Canada at the Winter Olympics. That, along with the earlier victory of the U.S. Women’s Hockey Team, made me at least temporarily into a hockey fan.
Why was I so happy? Some of that was because both teams were considered to be underdogs to Canada. America — a country that rest of the world loves to whine about — stepped up and defied the so-called experts. That’s something we’ve been doing for 250 years. That a lot of Canadian commentators proved themselves to be very sore losers only made the victory feel all the more sweet. The insistence that Canada had won despite losing only added luster to those gold medals.
I was also happy because I’m an American. I love this country. I may not always love our government and I may not always be happy with who wins our elections but I love America and I love my fellow Americans. We are 250 years old this year and to me, there was no better symbol of everything that I love about the American spirt than Jack Hughes, hitting the winning goal despite having lost two teeth just an hour or so earlier. This was a victory that America needed.
And you know what? I’m still proud of Jack Hughes. I’m still proud of our two hockey teams. And I’m still thrilled we won the gold. The media has been insisting that the Men’s Hockey Team is controversial because they accepted a phone call from the President, they attended that State of the Union, and none of them have been outspoken when it comes to politics. My personal feeling is that a lot of people were hoping America wouldn’t do well at the Winter Games so that they could write stories about how our poor Olympic performance was a metaphor for our supposed national decline. There are people who simply do not know how to handle the fact that the majority of Americans love their country.
Some day, a movie will be made about this hockey team. A critic will complain that the movie doesn’t address “the controversy.” No one will care.
The Case of John Davidson
Up until last week, I had never heard of John Davidson. The same is true for most Americans. However, he’s a bit of an institution in the UK. John Davidson has Tourette’s Syndrome. Along with the tics that people usually associate with the condition, he also has Coprolalia, which leads to swearing, slurs, socially inappropriate remarks, and derogatory comments, none of which Davidson can control. In 1989, when Davidson was 16, he was the subject of a BBC documentary. He’s appeared in several follow-up documentaries and his life was dramatized in a BAFTA-nominated film called I Swear. In the UK, people have watched him grow up and they know that, in the past, he has come close to suicide as a result of his condition. In America, we’ve never really had a figure like John Davidson and, as such, Tourette’s is still seen as a disorder that is often played for laughs on television and in the movies.
Because I Swear was nominated for several BAFTAS, Davidson attended the ceremony. Because Sinners was also nominated, Michael B. Jordan and Delroy Lindo were brought on as presenters. While Jordan and Lindo were on stage, Davidson yelled the word, the N-word.
Myself, I had sympathy for both sides of this particular incident. I am not an expert on Tourette’s but I do know enough to know that Davidson cannot control his tics. At the same time, I’ve never had a racial slur shouted at me so I can’t have any idea what it was like for Delroy Lindo and Michael B. Jordan to step out onstage and have that word echo through the theater.
As soon as it happened, a thousand people automatically decided that they were experts on Tourette’s. Jamie Foxx declared that Davidson “meant that.” On twitter, many claimed that Davidson could somehow control his tics or that his use of the word showed that it was what he actually wanted to say, two claims that showed a complete ignorance of the reality of Tourette’s. There were many — far too many — who claimed that Davidson should never leave his home if he couldn’t control his impulse. One woman even claimed that Davidson intentionally shouted his slur to try to keep the members of the Academy from voting for Sinners. (It was remarkable how many of these experts were apparently under the impression that I Swear was also an Oscar nominee, despite the film not having been released in the U.S.) Meanwhile, Davidson’s defenders did a good job of explaining the reality of Davidson’s condition but too often, they resorted to the popular European argument of “This proves that Americans are all stupid!,” as if a bunch of blowhards on twitter spoke for a nation of 300 million.
Once people finally started to accept that Davidson couldn’t control his tics, they decided that he was still a racist because, while he said he was “mortified,” Davidson did not due the usual public apology thing. Personally, I think Davidson said more than enough. Asking a disabled man to apologize for a disability that he cannot control shows a remarkable lack of grace. As well, our current culture sees apologizing as being a sign of weakness. Any apology that Davidson gave would be followed by demands for another apology. If anything, people’s anger should be with the BBC, who has two hours to edit out the slur but who left it in.
For about a week, people fought about this online. Now, they’re fighting about Iran. As I said, the news cycle moves very quickly. I Swear, the film about Davidson’s life, will be released in America later this year. I love forward to seeing it.
My Poor Ankle
On Saturday, I visited with my niece. She loves ballet so I decided to show her some pointe work. You should understand that it has been years since I last did pointe work. On Sunday, I could barely walk. Fortunately, I woke up feeling better this morning but still, aging is no joke!
Iran So Far Away
I know our readers probably have a lot of different feelings about what’s happening in Iran right now. As I mentioned earlier, no one is talking about Argo, despite the fact that it’s a relatively recent best picture winner about Iran. Personally, I would recommend Jafar Panahi’s It Was Just An Accident, a film that probably would have been a Best Picture nominee if the Academy actually had the guts that it often claims to have.
One Final Thought
Happy Purim! Every year, I look forward to attending my best friend Evelyn’s Purim party. That’s especially true this year.
And those are my thoughts on the culture.
by Tom Dunn
This cover is from 1955.
Through the Shattered Lens 