Pass the Popcorn, Senator
How John Edwards learned to stop worrying and love Dr. Strangelove.
One thing you have to hand the 2004 campaign: it's made for some really good TV. Compared to the turgid slog of 2000, when two virtually indistinguishable candidates scrabbled over tiny percentages of the vote to the resounding snores of the general populace, this has been a bracing, contentious political season on the small screen. Talking-head interviews with public policy figures have become the new water-cooler conversation. Friends send tips by email: "Did you hear? Shrum's on Hardball tonight!" "OMG, are you watching C-Span right now?" Whatever happens on election day, I'll miss the scrappy energy of Wonk October.
Last night, Turner Classic Movies kicked off a monthlong series called "Party Politics and the Movies," in which senators are invited to choose and introduce their favorite films. John Edwards was the inaugural guest, and his selection was almost shockingly bold: Dr. Strangelove. This 1964 black comedy is best remembered for its closing image: Slim Pickens, playing a bellicose Texan Air Force pilot, yodels with glee as he rides a "nucular" missile to his death, initiating worldwide Armageddon. Essentially, Strangelove is the story of a few deluded powermongers who destroy the world because they can't admit they're wrong. Edwards was bashful about drawing parallels, but host Ben Mankiewicz finally baited the hook for him: "Is there any message you would like President Bush or Senate Majority Leader Bill Frist to get from this movie?" Edwards' answer, delivered in his usual courtly drawl, was a quiet little knife in the president's ribs: "Human beings are fallible. They make mistakes ... That's why it's so important to have somebody at the top of the civilian government who understands what's happening and has good sound judgment."
Next Thursday night, John McCain will introduce another Kubrick film, Paths of Glory, that's one of the most virulently antiwar movies of all time. How he'll manage to spin that one in Bush's favor should make for some fun watching. But what doesn't these days? 7:26 a.m.
Wednesday, October 6, 2004
After last week's Surfergirl item about the First Couple's appearance on the Dr. Phil show (click here and sc roll down) I wouldn't be a good obsessive-compulsive if I didn't bookend with a few thoughts about today's episode, on which John and Teresa Heinz Kerry joined the TV shrink for a resolutely apolitical chat about marriage and family life.
An amateur diagnosis: Kerry is more fun on the therapist's couch than you might expect, but he should consider attending a workshop on overcoming self-sabotaging behaviors. Asked if one of his daughters was more like him than the other, he responded, and I swear to God I'm transcribing word-for-word: "Yes. No. Well that's ... gosh, I'd like to say yes, but I guess ... yes, the answer is yes." Which daughter, Mrs. Dr. Phil inquired? "Well, that's why I hesitated. Because in some ways my daughter Alexandra is more like me, but in other ways my daughter Vanessa is more like me." Senator? It's not an appropriations bill with riders. Just pick a name! Memo to Joe Lockhart: For the remaining three weeks of the campaign, do not let your candidate appear to vacillate on any subject, no matter how trivial. When he pulls into the fast-food drive-through on a campaign stop, have him bellow "COMBO CLASSIC, HOLD THE CHEESE!" before the intercom even comes on, and keep on repeating it at top volume until the last french fry has vanished down his gullet.
Other highlights? The Kerrys' account of their traditional Christmas afternoon broom-hockey game, in which her side of the family takes on his, each team outfitted in custom-made T-shirts: "The Tomatoes" vs. "The Pickles." Dr. Phil chuckled approvingly as Kerry explained that the team names were invented because "they sort of blended her thing with our thing." First of all: That is one awesomely dorky family tradition, straight from the Ned Flanders playbook. Secondly: Did I miss something with the T-shirt reference? The Heinzes must be the tomatoes, obviously, but why are pickles the Kerrys' "thing"? Could Wonkette be on the mark in her ongoing speculations about the Democratic candidate's intimate endowment?
Just as they have done on the campaign trail itself, both Kerrys at times managed to turn truth-telling into a liability. Asked how they managed to find time together, the couple cracked up. "I was thinking about the irony of our being here to talk about families, when I haven't seen Teresa since Wednesday," replied Kerry as his wife hid her face in mock shame. An honest enough assessment of the rigors of campaigning, but I don't know how it'll play next to the wifely devotion of Laura Bush, who must have a live video feed into the Oval Office so she can gaze adoringly at her hubby's face 24/7. Teresa even used the word "witch"—twice—to describe her strict parenting style when her sons were young. The term was no doubt meant as a self-deprecating joke to endear her to the "family values" crowd (He's tough on terrorism! She's tough on ... mischief!). But Heinz Kerry is probably underestimating the number of political cartoonists who would love to draw her riding on a broom. ... 3:26 p.m.
Tuesday, October 5, 2004
