13 Hours

Last weekend, Karen and I saw 13 Hours.  It seems that Hollywood likes to release patriotic movies in the dead of winter, since Lone Survivor and Act of Valor were also released during winter the last couple of years.  For me, the timing is excellent, since I'm not missing anything else to attend the movie.

This movie may have political implications.  Of course, being a product of Hollyweird, the director and the producer had to tread a very fine line, not wanting to upset the washed and coiffed political masses who espouse free speech for everyone...who agrees with them.  I like war movies as a rule, and although this isn't exactly a war movie, believe me, this is nothing short of the Alamo with AK 47's.

Surprisingly, neither Cankles nor President Obama are ever mentioned by name.  Considering the brouhaha over the attack on the consulate in Benghazi, I'm just a little taken aback by this.  Then again, going back to the paragraph preceding this one, self-preservation probably dictated that neither person's name got a reference.  Even so, it's hard to view the movie without thinking about the circus that ensued in the aftermath of the attack.

The movie itself is captivating.  Even when one is aware of the outcome, the events leading up to it, as represented in the movie, hold one's attention.  Surely, some of what's on the screen has been dramatized, but both the director and the men who were on the ground that fateful day swear that the movie is a faithful representation of what occurred on September 11, 2012.

The CIA comes off as elitist and ineffectual.  The ambassador's security detail -- two people -- come off as ineffectual and inept.  The grit and determination of the operators was beyond impressive.  Had the higher-ups listened to the operators, a catastrophe might have been avoided.  That they were attacked by nearly three hundred terrorists and only suffered two losses (Mr. Stevens and Mr. Smith were killed at the ambassador's residence; the operators held off the attackers at the CIA compound), and those after mortars were used, speaks to the professionalism and skill of the operators.  Given that they were in a virtual miasma of tribal warfare, with friend indistinguishable from foe, how the operators were able to navigate without compromising themselves or those whom they were to protect was unbelievable.

When we left the theater, many moviegoers were openly upset about President Obama and Cankles and their involvement in the fiasco.  The movie shows the military as ready, willing and able to come to the assistance of the beleaguered outpost.  Either the administration is wisely being quiet about the movie or it knows that the movie is factually correct.  Cankles can't afford to get embroiled in the debate, her campaign already reeling from myriad scandals. 

But four men are dead because of gross incompetence.  This movie shines a light on that and on the unparalleled bravery that kept the body count from being higher. It's a tribute to their bravery, their sacrifice and their resolution.

Finally, there's a movie that has something to do with the attack on the consulate in Benghazi.

Funny, neither President Obama nor Cankles want to talk about this movie.

(c) 2016 The Truxton Spangler Chronicles

Television Fails

My wife thinks I'm a television junkie.  I'm not really.  If I could do other things I would, but when one gets home around seven o'clock at night, eats dinner and settles down with the knowledge that the whole sequence begins again at five thirty the next morning, there's really little else to do besides surf the net or read a book.  Of course, during the summer months mowing can be accomplished, but during the late fall, winter and early spring, there isn't much else available to do at home.

(Yes, I know my dear wife would love to utilize that time to make our house a temple to antiseptic pulchritude, but to me that's not relaxation.  Especially when I readily admit I don't share her zeal for the art of cleaning.)

Here, then, are three snarky observations from my indolent time watching television:

Commercials:  Every year around the Super Bowl, the commercials get about as much attention as the event whose airtime they purchased.  Some of these ads are good, and others are bad.  The same holds true throughout the year at much less cost.  Where there are clever ads, I applaud the people who created them.  I can think of a couple in particular, such as this one by Summer's Eve:

Another is from Dayquil:

Then there are dogs.  Burger King is the chief loser in this category, with its scary King mascot popping up obnoxiously throughout the night.  So does Dr. Pepper fail (full disclosure:  I love Dr. Pepper, just not its ads) with its football-themed ads.  Papa John's ads with Peyton Manning are lame.  The question I have is who gets paid real money to come up with this tripe?  The people who came up with the Summer's Eve and Dayquil commercials are brilliant.  Not only are the people who devised the Burger King, Dr. Pepper and Papa John's commercials unimaginative, so are the people who approved the ads.

Hyperbole:  Reality shows are all about hyping normal individuals into something bigger than what they really are.  This is never more true than on reality competition shows.  Karen watches The Voice which, having seen the early days of American Idol and a couple of notable performers from that latter show notwithstanding, can't hold a candle to the former show.  That being said, when the field narrows to the really good singers, the judges are at a loss as to how to compliment the singers who are, in my opinion, pretty good.  But the words amazing, unbelievable, best I've ever heard and the like are thrown around so gratuitously that they lose all meaning.  Sure, there are some superlative performances, but the way the vocabulary-challenged judges pronounce it, every singer at this stage of the competition is the best they've ever heard which, in reality, just isn't possible.  I'm not suggesting a return to the days of acerbic criticism a la Simon Cowell, but this idea that to provide constructive criticism that doesn't lay on the schmaltz is against the rules subtracts from the show.  It also feeds into one of my personal bugaboos of trying to rank artistic performance which, much like beauty, lies in the eyes or ears of the beholder.  For example, as good a singer as this year's winner of The Voice, Jordan Smith, is, his voice wasn't as pleasing to me as some of the other contestants.  Perhaps he sings better, technically, than his competitors.  But I would have chose to listen to some of them over him.

Least-Common Denominator Sitcoms:  The show that prompts this observation is 2 Broke Girls.  I don't watch the show and never have, but the ubiquitous commercials, both on television and on the radio, are hard to avoid.  The show revolves around two comely lasses, played by Beth Behrs and Kat Dennings who, from what I can tell, are waitresses in a restaurant and, judging from the title, are perpetually broke.  The humor is ribald at best, low-brow at worst.  I never watched Married With Children because it appealed to the same sense of humor that is centered on scatology.  Shows that target this audience lose me from the start.  I appreciate cleverness, sly humor, things that make me think.  Hearing about someone not wearing clothing and encouraging me to disrobe (from the radio commercial to which I'm subjected every day in the car) don't make me want to watch the show, no matter how hot the women in the show may be.  Again, as with the commercials that fail, I'm stunned that people are paid to put this slop on television but, given the ratings, admit that there must be an audience for this crap.  That there is an audience for it saddens me, but I like the fact that it frees me up for other things.

Perhaps I really should watch less television.

(c) 2016 The Truxton Spangler Chronicles