The Movie That Made the Red States Red
While I continue to wage my lonely battle against those who would pee on the carpets of America (we fight them on our lawns so that we don't have to fight them on our beige carpets), Scott C. has heroically volunteered to watch the movie that singlehandedly won the Cold War (as recommended by the young conservatives at YAF, HUMAN EVENTS ONLINE, and the IMDb). And he will report on it, so that we too can help fight the war against commies. (Because our sources say that reading his review of this film is just as effective at fighting terror as putting a pro-Bush bumper sticker on your car.)
So, with no futher ado, here's Part One of Scott's briefing on the movie that made Ben Domenech famous.
A BLUEPRINT FOR RED AMERICA
Ben Domenech, wunderkind, serial plagiarist, and now ex-purveyor of fine screeds by appointment to the washingtonpost.com, began his short-lived career by snorting at the cultural illiteracy of his new employers.
"Red Dawn? You must know it - the greatest pro-gun movie ever? I mean, they actually show the jackbooted communist thugs prying the guns from cold dead hands."
Frankly, since the point of owning a gun for self-defense is to prevent your hands from becoming cold and dead, this seems more a case of Pin Prick, Meet Bubble. But while I might debate Ben’s interpretation of the film’s subtle symbolism, I would never question his street cred as a Red Dawn aficionado:
"Any red-blooded American conservative…knows a Red Dawn reference. For all the talk of left wing cultural political correctness, the right has such things, too (DO shop at Wal-Mart, DON'T buy gas from Citgo). But in the progressive halls of the mainstream media, such things prompt little or no recognition. For the MSM, Dan Rather is just another TV anchor, France is just another country and Red Dawn is just another cheesy throwaway Sunday afternoon movie."
Assuming Ben wrote rather than copied this paragraph, he makes a good point. Okay, he doesn’t, but we felt like we ought to do something to commemorate the spectacular, Comet Kohoutek-like flameout of his professional blogging career.
Since Red Dawn has influenced the political philosophies and violent fantasy lives of countless Rush Babies, the best way to bridge the gulf between Red and Blue America is for liberals to study this Ur-text of Young Conservatism. And since nobody else has volunteered, we decided to visit our local Blockbuster and take one for the team:
Red Dawn (1984) was written by John Milius (the semen stains on the screenplay confirm this) and Kevin Reynolds, who later brought us Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves and Waterworld (either of which would qualify as the nadir of most any career, but after watching Red Dawn, it looks like Waterworld is more of a lateral move). Milius took the reins, bringing the film in at an epic 1 hour and 54 minutes, which sounds long until you actually watch it, at which point you’ll swear that sometime prior to the closing credits the Sun collapsed into a neutron star and humanity evolved into a species of pure energy.
The story of Red Dawn is familiar to anyone who had a C. Thomas Howell-induced wet dream during the late 1980’s: Communists invade the United States when (according to the opening title cards) the "Soviet Union suffers worst wheat harvest in 55 years," which somehow allows them to conquer the world. I found this confusing, but inspiring, since I was recently fined by the Condo Board for putting a Rubbermaid storage tub on my balcony. Taking a leaf from the Commie playbook, I poured a bottle of Round-Up into the planter in the courtyard and killed the hydrangeas, which should allow me to conquer the Homeowners Association.
Cut to: South Park, Colorado. A thriving, all-American community, except apparently nobody has cable TV, which means that 1) nobody has been able to tune in CNN and learn that the Russians have invaded the U.S. and 2) no one will later be able to watch this movie when it enters into heavy rotation on HBO with Ice Castles and The Beastmaster.
Patrick Swayze drops his brother Charlie Sheen and Some Other Guy off at school, whose football team is named the Wolverines. (Pay attention! Later in the movie this seemingly trivial detail will become an extremely important source of irritation.) It finally dawns on the lunkheaded townsfolk that something is amiss when Soviet shock troops parachute into the high school and blow up the cafeteria. (Apparently their battle plan read: 1) Secure major access roads. 2) Detain local authorities. 3) Destroy all stockpiles of Sloppy Joes and Tater Tots.)
Patrick returns to pick up Charlie and Some Other Guy while the invaders machinegun a class room (just like the Commies in Ed Wood’s The Violent Years, who subcontracted an amoral gang of sexy female delinquents to erase a blackboard and tip over some chairs!). Bullets and rocket propelled grenades are flying around the school, busses are exploding and burning, but none of the kids seems all that upset, since this basically gives them the equivalent of a Snow Day.
Cut to: a bumpersticker that reads: You’ll Get My Gun When You Pry It From My Cold Dead Hands. Pan down to the vehicle’s owner, who is lying dead in the street with a gun in his hand. A kindly Russian soldier pauses to make the corpse’s dream come true.
Patrick collects a motley assortment of future direct-to-video stars and prostitution trial witnesses and drives them to a service station/armory run by C. Thomas Howell’s dad. Suddenly, there’s an explosion in an empty field, and Patrick realizes the special effects crew is closing in on them. Under Dad’s expert guidance, they quickly gather up survival gear (soup, toilet paper, footballs) and weapons (shotguns, Playskool My First Archery kits, Jarts) and pile into Patrick’s pickup.
They get about ten feet before the truck breaks down. The only way to fix it? Urinate into the radiator (although the truck is overloaded with supplies, no one seemed to think to bring a bottle of water. They do have several crates of Tab, however). Having voided their bladders for the cause of freedom, these neo-Minute Men continue their panicky flight.
Meanwhile back in South Park, the Red Army is randomly firing RPGs into plywood false fronts. Suddenly, from out of the billowing clouds of lemon-scented Roscoe Fog comes Cuban (?) officer Ron O’Neil as Commandante Super Fly! A breathless subordinate tells him that a column of U.S. Army tanks are approaching the town! Yeah, fine, but what really worries him is the local cadre of doughy, middle aged men, for Super Fly knows that their predatory instincts have been honed by many a half-drunken Saturday afternoon spent firing randomly into clumps of sagebrush in an effort to wing a pen-raised quail. The Commandante orders a couple of guys to go stop the Third Armored Division, while he routs the real enemy by pawing through a filing cabinet in the sporting goods store.
How did it come to this? U.S. soil, invaded and occupied by the Red Army and the Buena Vista Music Club! Well the movie was made in 1985, which means the invasion took place during Reagan’s second term, a time when the President was admittedly having trouble focusing on details. (He later delivered a stirring mea culpa: "A few months ago I told the American people I did not let Russians and Cubans invade the United States. My heart and my best intentions still tell me that's true, but the facts and the evidence tell me it is not." Good enough for me, Dutch!
(Still, say what you will about America’s win-is-everything mentality, I think it was very sporting that we didn’t use any of those tens of thousands of nuclear weapons in our missile silos, SAC bombers, or submarines. Guess they were mostly for show.)
Meanwhile, our band of brothers have reached the mountains, and are camping beside their piss-powered 4x4. Almost immediately there is dissension; half of our sniveling heroes want to surrender, but Patrick will have none of it. He delivers a spine-tingling oration that puts Henry V’s St. Crispin’s Day speech to shame, with lines like "Here, haul ass, take your shit!" and "This is your chance – git walkin’!" Patrick and Charlie Sheen hug. Patrick shakes hands and makes up with Richard Beymer from West Side Story. They all snuggle in close and Patrick explains that he and Charlie have been coming up here to Brokeback Mountain for a lot of years, and they can hunt and fish and avoid the invading Soviets and their increasingly suspicious wives for a long time.
To Be Continued
11:03:46 PM 
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