Book Review: The Secret Agent by Joseph Conrad

Published during the first decade of the 20th Century, The Secret Agent by Joseph Conrad reads like an eerie premonition of things to come. The novel follows a terrorist cell of anarchists in London as they plot and debate ideology, while a parallel storyline follows law enforcement investigating the bombing at the center of the story. Considered one of the first modern political thrillers, Conrad uses the plot as a mechanism to interrogate the psychology of a complex metropolis under the power of forces no one comprehends.

A real incident inspired the novel, in 1894 there was a botched bombing of the Greenwich Observatory in which the bomber was the only casualty. The novel speculates on what led to the event and the complex machinations behind it. 

The splintered perspective of the novel is best symbolized by the protagonist Adolf Verloc, a middle- aged shop owner who plots with anarchists by night, and also spies for an unnamed foreign government.  His younger wife is oblivious to Verloc's secret life but admires him for saving her from a life of ceaseless labor and poverty. Winnie's mother also lives with them, along with her emotionally unstable younger brother Steve. 

Conrad structured the novel in a non-linear fashion, adding to its disjointed tone. Questions about the various forces that hold society together and threaten to rip it apart always lurk in the background, as Verloc walks through an affluent neighborhood on the way to meet his handlers, he reflects:

He surveyed through the park railings the evidences of the towns opulence and luxury with an approving eye. All these people had to be protected. Protection is the first necessity of opulence and luxury. They had to be protected; and their horses, carriages, houses, servants had to be protected and the source of their wealth had to be protected in the heart of the city and the heart of the country; the whole social order favorable to their hygienic idleness had to be protected against the shallow enviousness of unhygienic labor. (15-16)

A high degree of opulence will inspire both awe and envy, and alienation everywhere Conrad is concerned with the psychological underpinnings of such a society. Curiously, the radical characters in the novel are mostly middle-aged men with their youths far behind them. Their youthful idealism has calcified into something harsh and uncompromising. At one late night meeting, an aging anarchist reflects:

I have always dreamed . . .of a band of men absolute in their resolve to discard all scruples in the choice of means, strong enough to give themselves frankly the name of destroyers, and free from the taint of that resigned pessimism which rots the world. No pity for anything on earth, including themselves - and death - enlisted for good and all in the service of humanity - that's what I would have liked to see. (38)

Meanwhile, Chief Inspector Heat investigates the bombing while contending with his ambitious new superior, the Assistant Commissioner. While the investigation goes smoothly after discovering a few leads, it's the uncovering of the motives that presents the challenge. For it's not a Sherlock Holmes situation when the solution easily follows logical reasoning, but one with so many levels it's unclear who's working with who, and whether even those involved understand their own motivations.

The heart of the novel is the domestic drama with Verloc's family. Winnie is the main female character and provides the emotion core of the story. She wants the best for her family, her sacrifices are of a different sort, for the betterment of her loved ones, as opposed to the abstract ideals of the anarchists. As things begin to unravel, she's driven to desperate and ultimately tragic acts. 

The fin de siècle world was one of diverse ideas and rapid change. The Secret Agent examines the psychological undercurrents of modernity, not necessarily by focusing on ideas and institutions, but on the people making their way within these modern systems. The vaguely dystopian London depicted in the novel, somewhere between Charles Dickens and Phillip K. Dick, directly connects to the alienations of the 21st Century and all its anxieties. 

(There have been many film and TV adaptations of the novel, including Alfred Hitchcock's 1936 film Sabotage)

Book Review: The Future Was Now: Madmen, Mavericks, and the Epic Sci-Fi Summer of 1982 by Chris Nashawaty

The Future Was Now takes a nostalgic look back at eight-week period over the summer of 1982 when eight classic Sci-Fi and fantasy films were released: Conan the Barbarian, The Road Warrior, Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, Poltergeist, E.T. the Extraterrestrial., The Thing, Blade Runner, and Tron. Author Chris Nashawaty argues all these films marked high points for the genre and remain influential, charting a course ahead for the future of popular cinema.

Science Fiction movies of the 1970s rarely broke through to become blockbusters, at best they could hope to become a cult film and find a small, but passionate, audience. A counterculture sensibility defined the genre whether it was head trips, dystopias, or midnight movie staples like Eraserhead. The year 1977 was a gamechanger when George Lucas's Star Wars and Steven Spielberg's Close Encounters of the Third Kind proved Sci-Fi movies carried a wider appeal. 

Every studio tried to duplicate the success of Star Wars. In 1979, 20th Century Fox scored another Sci-Fi hit with Alien, while Paramount rebooted the '60s TV series Star Trek. Disney even got in the game with The Black Hole. But it was in 1982 when Sci-Fi films would explode into the mainstream. 

The year marked a big one for Spielberg. While Jaws and Close Encounters were blockbusters, they also went way overbudget. His follow up, the wartime comedy 1941, also went deep into the red but flopped with audiences. To recoup his reputation, he teamed up with friend and sometime rival George Lucas on Raiders of the Lost Ark, which came in under budget and ruled the summer of 1981. For the summer of 1982, Spielberg released his most personal film to date E.T. and "produced" the suburban horror Poltergeist, enshrining his place at the top of 1980s pop culture.

While Spielberg's brand of fantasy was mostly family friendly, other visions explored darker themes. Conan the Barbarian, the 1930s sword and sorcery warrior created by Robert Howard, finally made it to the big screen. With a fever dream script by Oliver Stone and the muscular direction of John Milius, the film made Arnold Schwarzenegger into a household name. Its celebration of Nietzschean violence proved a perfect vehicle for the Austrian.

Australian filmmaker George Miller's follow up to Mad Max entitled The Road Warrior was both visceral and dystopian with its outlandish car chases.  Ridley Scott's Blade Runner proved another dark vision of a bleak futuristic Los Angeles with renegade "replicates" causing havoc. But the darkest of all was John Carpenter's The Thing, an update of the 1950s classic, assaulting audiences with gore and paranoia.

On the lighter side, Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan finally lived up to the promise of the TV series, offering fans a great adventure with a compelling villain. Disney's cyberpunk Tron offered a unique vision with its innovative use of digital effects. 

Nashawaty crafts an engaging narrative centered around the making of these films. While all these all have been written about at length in other books, crafting them all into a singular narrative sheds light on the personalities and the state of Hollywood at the time. Studios were willing to take chances on bold new material, partly based on the trust they developed with directors. The days of Francis Ford Coppola or Michael Cimino going off into expensive and ego driven productions were over.

Yet a little bit of madness went into all these films. Scott drove his cast and crew on Blade Runner so hard they almost revolted. Many accidents occurred on the Road Warrior set; Miller used his skills as a doctor to treat injuries. Milius also put his star through the ringer, Schwarzenegger took hard falls and was attacked by actual wolves at one point. Carpenter forced his cast and crew to work under extreme cold on The Thing to set the right mood. When The Twilight Zone tragedy occurred later in the year when a helicopter mishap killed three actors, it finally forced a reckoning through the industry about safety on the set.

Technological innovation was also changing how movies were consumed. The home video revolution was in its opening stages, giving movies a life beyond their initial theatrical runs. It was on VHS rentals where The Thing and Blade Runner found their audiences. Premium Cable channels like HBO were providing an alternative to the theatrical experience. As for moviegoing itself, the ritual was becoming further intertwined with consumerism with the rise of the multiplex. 

The Future Was Now juxtaposes the original visions of 1982 to today when everything is tied to a franchise or IP. Without a famous director attached like Christopher Nolan, it's difficult for original films to get made. As has been the case through much of film history, money takes precedence over art, most of the time anyway.

The persistence of '80s nostalgia rolls on. Nashawaty keeps the narrative flowing along well, at its best when capturing these creators at the peak of their powers striving for bold visions. The 2023 documentary 1982: Greatest Geek Year Ever that aired on The CW also covered some of the same ground, but also looked at the entire year, serving as a companion piece to The Future Was Now. Yet every summer of the 1980s offered something special in terms of movies, enough for more volumes to be written.

Book Review: Kubrick: An Odyssey by Robert P. Kolker and Nathan Abrams

Now almost a quarter into the 21st Century, the films of Stanley Kubrick continue to captivate and provoke. The latest biography of Kubrick, written by two film scholars who've written extensively on Kubrick in previous works, Robert F. Kolker and Nathan Abrams, is both comprehensive and engaging. With access to Kubrick's archives, the authors compiled a detailed narrative of their subject, objective in both approach and tone.

The vast scope of the biography covers the many lives Kubrick led. He took to photography and was hired by Look magazine when still a teenager, gaining a reputation for his artful photos of scenes and people from all walks of life. While he would eventually leave the city and become an expat in England, he often longed to return. Feeling limited by the standards of the magazine, he set off to become a filmmaker, starting out with short documentaries and eventually a low budget war film Fear and Desire.

He spent the 1950s as a fledgling filmmaker, paying the bills by playing chess and poker in between projects. His low budget film noir Killer's Kiss was mostly ignored but showed promise. Then came The Killing, a more sophisticated noir made for a studio. His follow up, Paths of Glory, was an early masterpiece. Now based in Hollywood, he continued developing scripts and hustling around the studios. At the request of Kirk Douglas, Kubrick was hired to direct the Roman epic Spartacus. A droll adaptation of Nabokov's Lolita followed, then the quotable Cold War satire Dr. Strangelove.

By the mid-1960s, Kubrick's star was on the rise. The amount of research and preparation he put into his films was already becoming the stuff of legend. For Dr. Strangelove, he read hundreds of books on nuclear strategy and geopolitics, consulting with experts to make sure every detail was right. Initially conceived as a thriller, with writer Terry Southern the script was refashioned as a dark comedy.

A dedication to details and ambitious ideas served him well for 2001: A Space Odyssey, a film that would take on cosmic questions on the origins and fate of humanity. Working closely with Sci-Fi author Arthur C. Clarke to develop the script, Kubrick assembled the technicians whose job was to make space travel look realistic. After four years working on the project Kubrick was aghast when audiences initially rejected it, so he cut 18 minutes after it was released. Soon enough 2001 became a cultural phenomenon, it captured the zeitgeist of the late 1960s like few other films.

The success of 2001 earned Kubrick a three-picture deal with Warner Brothers and complete creative control over his films. He settled permanently in England at an estate outside of London, building his own kingdom, leaving only on special occasions. He then began work on Napoleon, which he planned to film in Yugoslavia with the full cooperation of its army! But the funding fell through at the last minute. Instead, he adapted the Anthony Burgess novel A Clockwork Orange, still controversial over 50 years later. He pulled the film from distribution in the United Kingdom after a string of copycat crimes were allegedly inspired by the movie. 

With Napoleon still on the backburner, Kubrick spent the next few years on Barry Lyndon, based on the William Thackeray novel set in 18th Century Europe. While filming in Ireland, threats from the IRA forced the production to flee. The book describes the extended shooting schedule as sometimes chaotic with egos running rampant. Kubrick's unrelenting perfectionism took a toll on everyone. A three-hour costume drama was not what audiences wanted in 1975, but critics were knocked out by its historical accuracy and Kubrick's further exploration of humanity's self-destructive tendencies.

In a pivot towards more popular entertainment, Kubrick set out to make the scariest movie ever made. Kubrick was fascinated with horror movies of the '70s, repeatedly screening Rosemary's Baby and The Exorcist. Stephen King's 1977 novel The Shining fascinated him on many levels, drawing upon many recurring themes in his oeuvre. Despite its cool reception by critics and horror fans in 1980, The Shining transcended genre. Stanley's daughter Vivian filmed him at work on the set, notoriously browbeating Shelley Duvall, setting up shots and joking with the crew.

Kubrick would make two more films, Full Metal Jacket and Eyes Wide Shut, but many more projects were in various stages of development through the 1980s and 1990s. The Second World War always interested him, and he considered making a film about the airdrops preceding D-Day. The Holocaust was another subject he obsessed over. He was prepared to adapt the Louis Begely novel Wartime Lies in the early 1990s. With casting and location scouting in Europe nearly complete he canceled at the last minute. Steven Spielberg's own holocaust film Schindler's List had come out and Kubrick felt he could not make a better film on the subject, especially since his script was more cynical. He also feared for his own sanity, being away from home for a year and making by far his most depressing film was too daunting.  

His daily life during the 1980s and 1990s was consumed by his projects. Despite his reputation as a recluse, Kubrick was constantly communicating with other directors and always entertaining guests. He indulged his fascination with technical gadgets, poured through books, screened movies, compulsively watched CNN, and spent hours on the telephone. He also developed a passion for cooking for family and staff, he would often be seen doing the laundry. An animal lover as well, he devoted hours to his dogs and cats. With such a vibrant home life, he hated being away for just a few hours. He ran the estate like a benevolent emperor, although he could also be quite the taskmaster. 

His domestic life was mostly harmonious. His wife Christina, an artist in her own right, and relationship with his daughters were warm. A falling out with his daughter Vivian, who showed early promise as a filmmaker and composer, added a tragic dimension to his last years. She cut her family off after falling into Scientology, in recent years she's made social media posts endorsing Qanon conspiracy theories.

A friendship with Steven Spielberg also shaped the later years, even collaborating with him on A.I. Kubrick fell in and out with several writers in his Sci-Fi tale he called Pinocchio, a fairy tale/dystopia about a robot boy destined to become a messianic figure. Eventually, he passed it on to Spielberg, believing it was more to his sensibility. One gets the sense he was both in awe and a little envious of Spielberg's gift for connecting with audiences - and for cranking out so many movies.

Kubrick would pass away during post-production on Eyes Wide Shut, another story he'd been working on since the 1960s. The dreamlike tale about marriage and infidelity, among other things, was perhaps his most personal. Shooting took over a year and many noticed Kubrick was aging. A lack of sleep and unhealthy dieting contributed to his decline. Ominous rumors also swirled around the production about marital tensions between the two stars Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman to salacious details of orgy scenes. Once released the film was hardly the erotic thriller everyone expected, but a Kubrickian odyssey into the depths of the human soul. Predictably, the film's reputation has skyrocketed since 1999.

Kubrick got lost in labyrinths of his own making in the later years, always agonizing over how and when to proceed. His attention to detail and craft left behind movies that will always be watched and debated. The book did a fantastic job of bringing the reader close to the subject. Many who worked with him spoke of the experience as life-changing, some walked away ambivalent. There's no doubt his outer world reflected the inner world, and it's in his movies we continue to find a rich landscape. 

Robert P Kolker and Nathan Abrams. Kubrick: An Odyssey. New York: Pegasus, 2024. 649 pages.

Biden Channels Past and Future in Moving Address to the Nation

Photo Credit: Pete Marovich, New York Times

The past month of American politics will be of great interest to future historians. During the first presidential debate on June 28 President Biden's verbal skills appeared alarmingly diminished, confirming fears he may not be able to serve another term, much less effectively campaign against Donald Trump. Meanwhile, the Administration's attempt at damage control after the debate were flailing with increased calls for the President to exit the race. 

Then on Saturday, July 13 there was an assassination attempt on Trump in which he escaped with a minor wound to his ear, an innocent bystander was tragically killed. The act of political violence recalled some of the darkest moments in American history and rattled the nerves of a nation already on edge. 

This past Sunday, while recovering from Covid, Biden announced he was dropping out of the race and pledging all his delegates and full endorsement to Vice President Kamala Harris. Events sped up over the next 48 hours, as all the potential rivals to Harris pledged their support, quickly ending speculation of brokered conventions or "mini primaries." With Biden cratering in the polls, a feeling of dread enveloped the Democratic Party, but the sudden consolidation of support behind Vice President Harris has changed the dynamics of the race.

Last night, President Biden delivered a poignant address to the nation, bringing the events of recent weeks into perspective while appealing to the past and while making a hopeful gesture towards the future. Biden also explained why he ultimately made the decision to leave the race, while championing the accomplishments of his term and the work that remains to be done in the coming months.

The speech effectively employed rhetoric from presidential speeches of the past. The first paragraph invoked Thomas Jefferson, author of the Declaration of Independence, Washington who stepped away from power, Lincoln who proclaimed, "with malice toward none," and FDR's promise of freedom from fear. These were all important reminders of past Presidents whose actions and language left a shining legacy. At the same time, Biden points out America has often failed to live up to its ideals, "but we've never walked away from it either and I do not believe the American people will walk away from it now."

Expressing humility, the President stated he will be leaving office in "defense of democracy." The stakes of the upcoming election are just too high, "America is going to choose between moving forward or backward, between hope and hate, between unity and division."  Biden also focused on his accomplishments, and while believing they merited a second term, the time for a change had nevertheless arrived. 

In a rhetorical turn, Biden stated he "decided the best way forward is to pass the torch to a new generation." The phrase "passing the torch" references JFK's inaugural address, which he stated, "the torch has been passed to a new generation of Americans." As a representative of the new generation taking power, Kennedy was appealing to young Americans. In a graceful reversal, as a representative of the older generation, Biden is willfully stepping down to make way for new voices.

Biden also put his own political career into perspective. Elected to the Senate in 1972 and would serve until 2009. Known for two failed presidential campaigns in 1988 and 2008, he was selected by Barack Obama as his running mate and served two terms as Vice President. For personal reasons he chose not to run in 2016, but the Democratic Party coalesced around him in 2020 as their best chance at defeating Trump.

And Biden delivered, building a coalition strong enough to defeat Trump, presenting a positive message in contrast to his opponent's incessant negativity about the future. Through a disturbing interregnum which culminated with an angry mob attacking the U.S. Capitol at Trump's behest as a pandemic was pushing the healthcare system to the brink, Biden's inauguration was the most fraught since FDR's in 1933 at the height of the Great Depression. 

Biden recalled his time entering office in 2021 as "a winter of peril and winter of possibilities." The analogy works as a suitable summation of his presidency. There's been many highs and lows. Biden was wise enough to realize he would never achieve the popularity of past presidents due to the polarization and an ever-present Trumpism. For many Biden is the last of the old school politicians shaped by the 20th Century, yet ironically suited to hold things together though the many crises of the 2020s. 

Powerful rhetoric skillfully marks the passage of time from one era to another, providing clarity and meaning in moments of uncertainty. It's impossible to gauge how Biden's speech this past evening will be remembered. Based on the criteria above, the speech delivered, reminding Americans, in a line that reminded me of Truman, "here kings and dictators do not rule - the people do." 

Book Review: Close Encounters of the Third Kind Diary by Bob Balaban

My used copy, a bit worse for the wear.

In 1976 Bob Balaban was a struggling New York actor who was cast in Steven Spielberg's third feature film Close Encounters of the Third Kind. Balaban appeared in a supporting role as the cartologist/interpreter David Laughlin. During the film's long production Balaban kept a detailed diary, providing a fly on the wall perspective of a landmark film. 

Balaban's impetus for writing the book was there so few accounts by actors on making a film. He walks the reader through the casting process, the complicated logistics of working on a big budget production, while capturing both the tediousness and surreal excitement of making movies. 

Most of Balaban's scenes were with Francois Truffaut, one of the giants of French cinema. A founding member of the French New Wave, Truffaut's films like The 400 Blows and Shoot the Piano Player were classics. Spielberg admired Truffaut's performance as a compassionate doctor in The Wild Child and was thrilled he agreed to play the Ufologist Lacombe. 

Balaban was nervous to work with Truffaut but was quickly put at ease. They got along well and ended up becoming good friends. Truffaut's kindness and generosity left a strong impression on everyone who worked on the picture. He encouraged Spielberg to make more character driven stories and to work with children, providing the impetus for E.T. The diary also shares many anecdotes on Truffaut's thoughts on cinema, film history, and American culture.

The production of Close Encounters began in Wyoming around the Devil's Tower monument. Finding good food dealing with volatile weather, and the culture shock staying in a rough mining town were the major challenges. Most of the film was shot in Mobile, Alabama over the summer of 1976. A gigantic aircraft hangar was used for UFO landing for the film's ending. The building was famously so large the air conditioning created its own weather system. The days were long, involving lots of waiting and the pressure of having to deliver a performance on a moment's notice. Additional filming took place in India and the Mojave Desert. 

Spielberg had dreamed of making a UFO movie since he was a kid. Balaban's portrait the young director is an endearing one, informative and patient with his cast while managing all the complicated technical details. During his off time, he played video games in his office with Richard Dreyfuss and often held evening screenings of classic movies at his rented house. 

Close Encounters Diary is valuable on many levels, but unfortunately, it's been out of print for years and is only available online through used bookstores. My copy was not in great shape, but it was readable! 

Book Review: When the Clock Broke: Con Men, Conspiracists and How America Cracked Up in the Early 1990s by John Ganz

John Ganz, author of the Substack Unpopular Front, has published his first book which explores the political culture of the early 1990s. Primarily focused on the years 1990-1992, Ganz weaved an engaging narrative of how various historical, economic, and cultural forces put America on a political trajectory that helps make sense of the current moment. 

The end of the Cold War had a dramatic impact on domestic politics in America, bringing to bear forces that were suppressed and largely ignored since the 1940s. If Anti-communism was the glue that presented the semblance of bipartisanship of the mid-late 20th Century, the collapse of the Soviet Union unleashed new paranoias, and eventually a new type of politics. Ganz focuses on several figures who were harbingers of things to come. 

Ganz's writing skillfully combines biographical sketches, historical context, and intellectual underpinnings. Anxiety and anger over economic forces and demographic change were starting to shift attitudes of the white middle class. An early sign was the rise of David Duke, former Klansman and proud white supremacist, who gained the GOP nomination for Louisiana Governor. A lifelong misfit with antisocial tendencies, Duke emerged as a voice for struggling lower-middle class whites. Ganz deftly explains the corrupt political structures of Louisiana and connects Duke to the populism of 1930s figure Huey Long who also championed lower class whites and ran the state like an autocrat. Although Duke lost his bid for Governor, he predicted that if the economic fortunes of the white middle class continued to erode, his brand of politics would own the future. 

Duke's reactive brand of populist and identity politics trickled their way into the 1992 election. The sitting President George Bush was riding the crest of the First Gulf War victory with a 90% approval rating until the economy went into a gloomy recession. Bush found himself challenged from the Right by Patrick Buchannan, a former speechwriter for Richard Nixon who specialized in red meat rhetoric. By the 1990s, he had turned against the dogma of free trade and championed a new isolationism. Buchannan raged against "elites" who fleeced hard working Americans and took up the culture war mantle, seeing traditional American values under attack everywhere from public schools to rap music. 

Conservative politics were changing, starting to lean into a radicalism that had always existed, but was oozing into the mainstream. For many, William F. Buckley was the face of the Conservative Movement, founder of National Review and host of the TV Show Firing Line, where his witty repartee with fellow conservatives and the occasional liberal offered the image of genteel conservatism. Buckley also dismissed the John Birch Society, the Anti-communist organization fueled by conspiracy theories, from the Conservative Movement. But the ground underneath conservatism was shifting by the early 1990s, traditionalists, libertarians, defense hawks, and supply side economics were somewhat adrift in the post-Cold War world. Buchannan proudly called himself a paleoconservative, a radical rightist modeled on Franco and Mussolini.

Intellectual paleoconservatives loom large in the book. Samuel T. Francis and Murray Rothbard, one a white nationalist and the other an anarcho-capitalist, gave voice to the new currents. They despised the limited government mantra of the Reagan era. They hated democracy, Rothbard spoke of repealing the 20th Century and "breaking the clock" of democracy. Francis advocated for a strong state not unlike the Mafia, The Godfather was his ideal "right wing utopia." For Conservatives to win, they must champion culture above all else, a strange blend of confederacy worship and Anglo-Saxon fetishization. Francis identified the growth of militias and militancy in 1980s America as the first stirrings of a new culture war, a sign of people starting to wake up in the heartland.

Ganz explains how the farming crisis of the 1980s radicalized many whites in the Great Plains. A chapter on Ruby Ridge, the botched Federal raid on armed militants in Idaho that led to the loss of innocent life, becoming a cause celebre for antigovernmental forces spreading like wildfire. Economic displacement fueled the new militancy, often fueled by crackpot theories, xenophobia, and antisemitism. The 1992 candidacy of Texas mogul Ross Perot (another major character in the book), which captured the imagination of many by promising he could fix everything with smarts and hard work was a foreshadowing of Trump.

The central question of the book, in the words of Ganz:

We are still working to answer why the loss of faith in the old order has registered an intensified anti-egalitarianism rather than a renewed egalitarianism, why perceptions of public corruption and criminality have led to the open embrace of corruption and criminality rather than its rejection, and why discontent with the distribution of wealth and power has fostered closer popular identification with certain types of capitalism and capitalists (22).

Part of the answer lies in the lack of imagination of liberal politicians. Ganz never quite argues the notion but suggests it. It's in his critique of Bill Clinton's 1992 campaign. Governor of Arkansas, Clinton hammered Bush's economic policies while his folksy persona exuded charm and intelligence. But he was also temperamental and sensitive to criticism from the left of his own party, especially from the more progressive Jesse Jackson wing. Clinton liked the perks of being a statesman, he enjoyed rubbing shoulders with power brokers and celebrities a bit too much. His two terms as President saw him make many compromises with the Right on economic policy.

Ganz points out how the populists' movements on the Left such as Jesse Jackson's attempt to build a multi-racial working-class movement and Bernie Sanders championing social democracy never got their proper chance. The malaise of the Democratic Party, Robert Altman's TV series Tanner '88 is an excellent example, is another part of this story.

In a way, Trump is the main character in the book even though he only makes a few appearances in the chapter on 1990s New York City politics and the popularity of the gangster John Gotti. Trump's psychic connection with middle America did not happen overnight, he's like a Frankenstein the radical right envisioned promising to fix everything, stopping illegal immigration, casually endorsing conspiracy theories, talking like a mobster, famous for being famous, and promising retribution to all internal enemies. 

With the 2024 Presidential election looming, the Right has their radical plans in place for Day 1. The world of a year from now would look ominously different. When the Clock Broke illustrates how the fringe becomes the norm due to economic and cultural forces. But even if the immediate existential crisis of democracy is averted this time around, the problem of wealth distribution will remain, and it will rest on the shoulders of those who believe in democracy to prove they are up to the challenge. 

TV Review: Rubicon: S1E1: "Gone in the Teeth"

Directed Allen Coulter

Written by Jason Horwitch

Air Date: June 13, 2010

Starring: James Badge Dale (Will Travers); Jessica Collins (Maggie Young); Lauren Hodges (Tanya MacGaffin); Dallas Roberts (Miles Fieldler); Christopher Evan Welch (Grant Test); Arliss Howard (Kale Ingram); Miranda Richardson (Katherine); Roger Robinson (Ed Bancroft)

Rubicon was a serialized conspiracy thriller that aired for 13 episodes on AMC during the fall of 2010. Inspired both by the paranoid thrillers of the 1970s* and the post-9/11 climate of the 2000s, the series was a curious blend of Hitchcockian suspense and workplace drama.

The series follows the goings on at the American Policy Institute in New York City, a private intelligence gathering agency that works closely with larger apparatus of the National Security State. Unlike traditional espionage shows, which follow charismatic spies in exotic locales, Rubicon is solely focused on analysts whose job is to make sense of large amounts of data and intelligence.

The protagonist is Will Travers, a brilliant analyst who lost his wife and daughter at the World Trade Center on 9/11. Obsessed with crossword puzzles, he uncovers a strange message in a collection of clues from several major newspapers and takes it to his mentor and former father-in-law David, who dismisses the message as a joke among puzzle writers.

At their daily meeting the teams discuss parts of the world they are tracking - phone scammers in Pakistan, a Russian weapons salesman, and missile silos being constructed in Iran. The next day David is killed in a train accident, and a shaken Will suspects it was more than random. He does some investigating and finds evidence pointing to foul play and notices he's being followed.

Will's offered David's job by Kale Ingram, mysterious figure with a long past working intelligence for the Government, David reluctantly accepts the new position, despite his introverted nature. Later Will meets with retired (and haunted) codebreaker Ed Bancroft, who also suspects David was the victim of a conspiracy. After accepting the new position, Will is told to go "upstairs" and meet with his new superiors. 

There's a nerdy appeal to Rubicon, in that the characters must use their minds to assess national security threats, not unlike the bookish analysts depicted in Three Days of the Condor. Will's personal connection to 9/11 brings a pathos to his character. Rubicon also excels at blending the mundane with paranoia, like any secret organization there are levels of access of knowledge with various parties with differing interests. 

Conspiracies are always afoot, and as the NY Times retrospective review pointed out, Rubicon suggested the future political climate. Conspiracy theories are no longer fun parlor games for pop culture enthusiasts, but they've proliferated everywhere and taken a dark turn, shaping an array of multiple realities, and altering political positions. Nothing is what it seems on Rubicon - and reality itself these days.

(The Parallax View, Three Days of the Condor, and All the Presidents Men are cited as major influences)