Who Benefitted from the Anti-Woke Panic?

Over the past week I've been closely watching the ICE invasion of Minneapolis. Scenes of masked, uniformed figures snatching people off the streets recall some of the most terrifying imagery from the 20th century. In widely circulated footage, Renee Nicole Good, a 37-year-old mother of three, was killed during an ICE operation. Predictably, those running the operation are playing Orwellian games with the video, disputing what's clearly visible.

Throughout the Obama, Trump, and Biden eras I read all about the excesses of the progressive left. Woke mobs on Twitter. Woke college students symbolizing the death knell of democracy. Editorials decrying BLM rhetoric as going too far. The 1619 Project challenging conventional narratives of U.S. history. Panics over transgender athletes playing sports, pronoun usage, pop culture diversity, even freakouts over beer ads. It's worth asking now not whether wokeness went too far, but who benefitted from these controversies?

Anti-Woke pundits presented progressive culture as a grave threat to Western Civilization. They described themselves as classical liberals and defenders of institutions, always claiming free speech and "Western values" was under attack. But their obsession with the excesses of progressive ideologies inadvertently fueled reactionary forces. Their outrage was misallocated. They mistook their own discomfort with cultural trends for oppression, but we are now confronted with the real thing.

The concerns of progressive activists were viewed as overblown and not based in reality. Educators, librarians, and activists were often singled out. As those decrying cancel culture and safe spaces enjoyed the lecture circuit and glowing profiles written about them at elite publications, class divisions widened and state power inflated. Even Libertarians got more mileage over mocking the latest progressive trends instead of tracking the authoritarian creep. 

It's not that progressives are above criticism. Not at all.  But anti-woke punditry got lost in the cultural debates, forgetting that being a cultural critic is not about gatekeeping, but realizing art should be in conversation with the past, not keeping it frozen in amber. MAGA poses no threat to these pundits, but a college course on feminist lit theory was seen as a more serious existential threat than militarizing the police or rampaging militias. 

The fixation on progressive policies and campus culture indirectly gave moral cover to authoritarians by priming people to fear cultural change more than state violence. Anti-Woke pundits will occasionally voice tepid criticism of Trump's reckless social media posts or lament his ignorance, but their ire is more often aimed at the Gen Z server from their favorite restaurant who corrected their pronoun usage. 

Meanwhile the citizens of Minneapolis worry about late-night knocks on the door from masked men with military-style weapons or reports of ICE checkpoints at schools or street corners demanding proof of citizenship. It's hard to imagine they are losing sleep over "woke" college students lecturing them about racism or gender identity. 

Film Discoveries 2025

Some notable first-time watches from last year, in no particular order.

1) Going In (2023, Evan Rissi) This was cool, the year is 1989, two old buddies'/rivals' team up to stop a drug epidemic. All aqua and neon, the video arcade sheen is like New Wave cinema meets mid-80s Atari. Going In totally feels like a movie from 1989 reimagined from the 2020s. 

2) Dead Calm (1989, Phillip Noyce) A solid psychological thriller on a boat with Nicole Kidman, Sam Neill, and Billy Zane. Orson Welles attempted to film the story in the late 60s, but it was never finished.

3) Knox Goes Away (2023, Michael Keaton) Reminded me of a film Clint Eastwood would've made 10-15 years ago, a contract killer is dealing with rapid onset dementia as he tries to tie up loose ends. Keaton achieves both menace and a shred of sympathy, well-constructed and clever. Also, many films are starting to depict dementia, I thought this one did it with grace. 

4) All Quiet on the Western Front (1930, Lewis Milestone) Many powerful scenes that obviously set the template for the war film genre. A couple of non-combat scenes stuck with me though. When the protagonist revisits the school and is disgusted by the empty-headed nationalism of his teacher, and then the reaction of the young men in the classroom to his downbeat view of the war, little has changed. Also, when the soldier watches those dumbass dudes playing armchair general, reminded me of all the blowhards on social media. And the combat scenes are riveting and terrifying. The entire film is unflinchingly downbeat. 

5) Doomed! The Untold Story of Roger Corman's Fantastic Four (2015, Marty Langford) I'm sure the actual film is charming and fun (available on YouTube). The documentary features interviews with most of the cast and crew. The experience of making the film clearly meant something to them and it's a shame showbusiness shenanigans prevented the film from getting a proper release. The "lost film" documentary subgenre is a favorite of mine. 

6) Mississippi Masala (1991, Mira Nair) Impressively made, a drama about an Indian and African American family dealing with legacy change in 1990s America. Free of cliches. 

7) True Stories (1986, David Byrne) Byrne's anthropological dissection weird Americana is both offbeat and endearing - it's like a blend of Burton, Demme, and Altman. John Goodman steals the film in a star making performance, always good to see Spalding Gray. 

8) The Crossing Guard (1995, Sean Penn) A bleak tale of middle-age descent, Jack Nicholson is a jewelry salesman mourning the death of his daughter who was killed by a drunk driver. He spends his days drinking and nights at strip clubs. Poetic tale of sad redemption.

9) That's The Way of the World (1975, Sig Shore) Harvey Keitel stars as rock music producer "Buckmaster", an impresario who's in the business strictly for the music - not to make money. He's working with Earth, Wind, and Fire (The Group) who are primed to go big time. But his company wants to push a white pop group who perform square, wholesome music. The record company head believes kids are tired of all the revolution stuff and just want good times music. Buckmaster reluctantly takes on "The Pagers" and turns one of their corny songs into a hit. Keitel carries the film along well and there's strong dialogue in the script by Robert Lipsyte, mainly known for his sportswriting. 

10) Grosse Point Blank (1997, George Armitage) Nostalgia for the 80s was already cropping up by the late '90s! John Cusack plays a contract killer attending his class reunion. On the surface it sounds like a bad film school script, but everything from the writing to the acting are done with seamless confidence. Maybe best cinematic depiction of a class reunion ever? The vibe felt just right. 

11) Billy Lynn's Long Halftime Walk (2016, Ang Lee) Many films attempted to make sense of the Bush II era; Ang Lee's film captures the rage, grandiosity, and desperation seeping into the American psyche. The entire film is set at a football game where a military unit will be recognized during the halftime show, interspersed with flashbacks of what they experienced in Iraq. The film slyly inverts the "thank you for your service" sentiment, there are many points where the veterans are mocked by the so-called patriotic football fans. Also, I like how many in the cast went against type: Vin Diesel as a sensitive sergeant and Steve Martin as the opportunistic team owner. Films about the Iraq War never had the cultural influence of Vietnam era films, possibly because they were regressive, like a bad TV rerun of the same story, different place minus the boomer nostalgia. 

12) Exotica (1994, Atom Egoyan) A critical favorite of the mid-90s, it would pair well with The Crossing Guard, sad middle aged men taking refuge at an upscale Toronto strip club, Leonard Cohen themed no less. 

13) DEVO (2024, Chris Smith) One of the best music docs of the past year, DEVO said what they wanted to say and got the hell out. I'll confess to feeling really down about being stuck in Ohio for most of my life, but DEVO makes me proud. Members of Devo were among the protestors at Kent St. and decided their art would be in response to the tragic events of that day. 

14) Black Moon (1975, Louis Malle) Malle really could do it all, possibly the most versatile and compelling of the French New Wave generation. This film is like a Twilight Zone episode, only far more provocative and stranger. A global civil war is being fought between men and women.

15) The Glass Shield (1994, Charles Burnett) Set in the aftermath of Rodney King riots, this moody '90s cop drama critiques racism at a cliquish precinct. 

16) The Chant of Jimmy Blacksmith (1978, Fred Schepisi) Set in in early 1900s Australia, this true story follows an Aboriginal man trying to conform to white culture. Met with contempt everywhere he goes, it all explodes in a paroxysm of violence. Brutally confrontational. Schepisi's 1984 film Iceman dealt with similar themes in a more humanistic way.

17) Perfect Days (2023, Wim Wenders) Memorable and meditative, we follow a man who cleans city toilets in Tokyo, as he listens to cassette tapes of classic rock, and reads. Classic Wenders, I only wish we had learned more about the protagonist and his early life. 

18) The Family Stone (2005, Thomas Bezucha) We lost Diane Keaton this year, and here she leads an ensemble cast as the matriarch of a slightly dysfunctional family. Watch if you're tired of Christmas Vacation or The Christmas Story. Double it with Arnaud Desplechin's A Christmas Tale for more holiday dysfunction.

19) Rude Boy (1980, Jack Hazan, David Mingay) Excellent snapshot of The Clash during their prime, interspersed with asides on the political turmoil of late 70s Britain. Resonant, there's a memorable scene with Joe Strummer trying to convince a young man to not buy into fascist propaganda. Apparently, the band was unhappy with the film, but it's valuable for depicting how Punk appealed to alienated young people, many confused about their political ideology as Thatcherism loomed.

20) The Night of . .  (2016, Steven Zaillian) Gripping, Riz Ahmed and John Turturro give some of the best performances you'll ever see anywhere. Both legal drama and bleak prison survival narrative. Highly recommend, An 8-part HBO series.

21) The Sure Thing (1985, Rob Reiner) John Cusack and Daphne Zuniga are incredibly charming as college kids on a road trip over Christmas vacation. Smarter than the average '80s youth comedy.

22) Film Geek (2023, Richard Shepard) A manual on channeling passion. Shepard recalls his moviegoing adventures in New York during the 70s and 80s. It's also about his father, a man he never truly understood. 

23) The Daytrippers (1996, Greg Mottola) Iconic 90s indie with many familiar faces, satisfyingly low stakes. 

24) The Duelists (1977, Ridley Scott) The Barry Lyndon influence is unmistakable, but the approach is pulpier. Beautiful cinematography. Keith Carradine and Harvey Keitel are two officers during the Napoleonic Wars who engage in a number of dangerous duels.

25) Old Joy (2006, Kelly Reichardt) A simple, but subtle, tale of two estranged friends trying to reconnect. As usual, Reichert fashions a distinct setting that gets the most out of every moment. 

26) Bullet in the Head (1990, John Woo) Propulsive, brutal, pure cinematic energy, follows three buddies getting involved in drug smuggling during the Vietnam War. Makes The Deer Hunter look tame.

27) Fatal Beauty (1987, Tom Holland) A mid-80s neo noir with Whoopi Goldberg and Sam Elliot who have great chemistry. Lots of inappropriate humor, best of the scummy late Reagan era.

28) Three Ages (1923, Buster Keaton and Edward F. Cline) Early feature length film from Buster, playing characters living in different ages. Endlessly inventive and funny. 

29) It Could Happen to You (1994, Tom Bergman) A Capraesque fable that goes down easy. Nicolas Cage plays a down-to-earth every man who shares a lottery win with kindly waitress played by Bridget Fonda.

30 Flow (2024, Gints Zibalodis) Animated film, a majestic adventure about a cat who survives a flood and finds community. 

Reading, Watching, Listening: 11/14/2025

Reading - I finished reading Red Storm Rising, the 1986 novel by Tom Clancy that imagines a WWIII scenario. Facing an energy crisis and terrorist attacks, the USSR decides it needs to seize oil fields in the Middle East - but first must destroy NATO. The wide-ranging narrative is mostly focused on naval warfare in the North Atlantic as the Soviets attempt to destroy NATO's supply lines. The novel expresses the complexity of naval warfare and the unlimited number of variables faced by commanders. It can be difficult to read about such battles in fictional prose, unless one's an expert on 1980s military hardware, so the book can be a slog at times. The lack of visual aids when describing complex battles can make for leaden prose, depicting the strategies of modern warfare might work better in a graphic novel or video game. Despite its dense technology, Red Storm Rising is an engaging artifact of 1980s Cold War culture. I even picked up The Hunt for Red October, which is far better. 

I also read the graphic novel Lucas Wars by Laurent Hopman and Renaud Roche, which is about George Lucas and the making of Star Wars. There's been many books on the subject: Skywalking: The Life and Times of George Lucas by Dale Pollock, George Lucas: A Life by Brian Jay Jones, The Making of Star Wars by J.W. Rinzler, How Star Wars Conquered the Universe by Chris Taylor, The Secret History of Star Wars by Michael Kaminski, Easy Riders, Raging Bulls by Peter Biskind, and The Princess Diarist by Carrie Fisher. Documentaries on the subject include: The Making of Star Wars (made for TV in 1977), From Star Wars to Jedi: The Making of a Saga, Empire of Dreams: The Story of the Star Wars Trilogy, the Disney series Light & Magic, Icons Unearthed: The Making of Star Wars, which is told from the perspective of Marcia Lucas, and the podcast Blockbuster which dramatizes the friendship between Spielberg and Lucas.

Lucas Wars was engaging, drawing upon all the sources on the making of Star Wars. There's an emotional heart to it, focused on George and Marcia, Fox President Alan Ladd Jr., and the principals in the cast. The villains are naturally the suits at 20th Century Fox, who consistently tried to undermine the film. There's a bit of hagiography with Lucas as the misunderstood visionary who triumphed against all odds. The artwork nicely conveys the emotional beats of the story. At its center are George and Marcia Lucas, she encouraged him, called out his bad ideas, and played a crucial role in editing the film. Gary Kurtz is also a major character, George's producer and troubleshooter. There's a hint of melancholy since George and Marcia would eventually have a bitter divorce, while Kurtz would also have a falling out with Lucas. Yet there's no doubt Lucas revolutionized filmmaking for good and ill, creating his own special effects company, drawing upon so many influences, gathering so many creative people, and eschewing all the conventions of filmmaking all brought incredible dividends. 

Watching - Springsteen: Deliver Me from Nowhere which follows Bruce Springsteen around the time he recorded his 1982 album Nebraska, an acoustic record released in defiance of his record company who wanted more hits. There's nothing on Springsteen's rise in the New Jersey rock scene, getting signed by Columbia, nor being on the cover of Time and Newsweek with the 1975 release of Born to Run. Neither is it about rock star excess or creative stagnation, but more about overcoming inner demons. As a character study it works well, Jeremy Allen White was well cast Springsteen, Jeremy Strong is effective as his manager and conscience Jon Landeau. The insular nature of the film felt fresh at times, but the focus on childhood trauma was overwrought. 

I also enjoyed Death by Lightning on Netflix, which tells of the improbable rise of James Garfield who was elected President of the United States in 1880, but was assassinated just a few months into his term. The story emphasizes the long shadow of the Civil War (Garfield suffered from PTSD), corruption, and civil service reform. Michael Shannon plays Garfield with humanity, while Matthew Macfadyen plays the unstable assassin Charles Guiteau, he was like a Travis Bickle who read way too many self-help books. 

Listening - I'd recommend three movie podcasts. The Projection Booth Podcast discussed the 1978 Walter Hill film The Driver. Watch with Jen held a free-ranging discussion on the career of Jackie Chan. The Pure Cinema Podcast released Part One of their series on Stanley Kubrick, going through his filmography and recommending films to pair with each Kubrick entry. 

Reading, Watching, Listening: 10/29/25

Here's an update on what I've reading, watching, and listening to for the past week.

Reading: I started the novel Red Storm Rising by Tom Clancy, a military/political/techno thriller about a WWIII scenario. Clancy was outspoken about his conservative politics; his fiction was an
extension of Reagan era foreign policy. I wonder where Clancy would stand on Trump. His novels celebrated the military as a model institution celebrating Americans of all backgrounds exceling and working together. NATO was also a sacred alliance in the Jack Ryan books. Whether Trump's an extension of Reagan or an aberration is a complex question. Nevertheless, revisiting Clancy feels like a completely different time.

Watching: I'm enjoying the John Woo collection on the Criterion Channel highlighting his groundbreaking action movies that defined Hong Kong cinema. I also watched the new Kathryn Bigelow political thriller on Netflix House of Dynamite. The film achieves a sense of dread with the scenario it depicts, but the execution felt off. I'm also up to Season 4 of Supernatural, an easy show to dismiss as schlock, and in many ways, it is, but the character arcs and the stakes get better with each season. I'm also doing a rewatch of 21 Jump Street, you can find my episode reviews here.

Listening: I'm enjoying Jeff Tweedy's new triple album Twilight Override, you can read my review here. As for podcasts, I've been listening to Unclear and Present Danger which covers the political and military thrillers of the 1990s, they recently discussed the 1997 Bond film, Tomorrow Never Dies. The Projection Booth Podcast interviewed documentarian David Kittredge on his new film Boorman and the Devil, which is about the making and legacy of the often-maligned Exorcist II: The Heretic.

Some Favorite Halloween Themed Songs - Happy Halloween! 

1) Night of the Vampire - Roky Erickson

2) Meet Ze Monsta - P.J. Harvey

3) I Am a Hologram - Mr. Heavenly

4) Superstition - Stevie Wonder

5) Halloween - The Dream Syndicate

6) Season of the Witch - Super Session

7) Lon Chaney - Garland Jeffries

8) The Wizard - Black Sabbath

9)  My Own Version of You - Bob Dylan

10) There Is a Light That Never Goes Out - (Dum Dum Girls version)

Book Review: The Power Broker: Robert Moses and the Fall of New York by Robert Caro

At over 1200 pages, Robert Caro's The Power Broker stands as a benchmark of modern non-fiction. Its subject, Robert Moses, shaped the infrastructure and dominated New York City politics for over forty years. The amount of detail Caro packed into the book is staggering, as are the various narrative strategies he employed to tell the story. Caro returns often to the central question of the book: How could a man who was never elected to office command so much power? 

To arrive at an answer to that question, we learn about the machinations of city and state government, the nuances of navigating bureaucracy, the power of personality and interpersonal relationships, the cultivation of public opinion, the Byzantine flow of money, and the nature of power itself. For one can chase power for noble or selfish reasons, yet for anyone who attains it for a long period of time, the relationship becomes something else entirely. 

Robert Moses, the son of a middle-class Jewish family, began his career as a reformer. He attended Yale and Oxford, studied government and set out to make life better for everybody - and a cultural arrogance that would drive his projects. Moses came of age during the Progressive Era, an urban reform movement to make government more efficient to meet the demands of an exploding population. As a young man, working for a statistical bureau, Moses would walk the streets of New York and imagine great highways, arterial systems of the future. By age 30, his ideas about reform fell on deaf ears and his arrogant personality rubbed many the wrong way. But he found a patron in Al Smith, Democratic governor of New York who instituted many reforms. They were an odd couple, alter egos, who forged a lifelong friendship. Moses lobbied to be put in charge of parks, and Smith gave him full rein.

Before he reshaped New York City, Moses focused on Long Island. He developed the beaches and built roads so people from the city could drive to their destination. The 1920s was the start of car culture, and city infrastructures were primitive. A trip to the beach was nothing but traffic jams and crowds. His determination to build roads extended to repossessing the property of many small farmers. Many of America's wealthiest families, "the barons", owned the shore properties, but Moses left them alone. Appeasing the wealthy would become recurring thread throughout his career. But the beaches were a huge success, with massive bathhouses and sharply dressed workers picking up litter. The public relations campaign was brilliant. 

With Smith as Governor, Moses was given extensive powers on highway and bridge planning, transforming New York into a modern metropolis. Moses also had a brilliant legal mind; he carried an encyclopedic knowledge of past legislation and was a master at drafting his own bills. His dominant personality inspired fear and reverence, he answered only to the Governor, in time Mayors and Governors deferred to him.  Even Franklin Roosevelt as President tried to break Moses and failed, they had a long running rivalry that Caro depicts in exquisite detail. 

As Moses consolidated power, he wowed the nation with his projects (city planners from all over the world observed his methods). The Triborough Bridge, completed in 1936, was maybe his crown jewel, a massive complex of four bridges linking Manhattan, Queens, and the Bronx. More major projects moved forward. He built his own political machine that operated with impunity, an entire staff of lieutenants as enforcers, and wealthy friends in powerful positions, the NY Times served as his own personal propaganda machine. 

By the 1950s, there were the stirrings of backlash. Caro devotes an entire chapter to the Tremont area of the Bronx; city blocks that were cleared out for a six-lane expressway. A community of mostly Irish and Jewish families, the people were given 90 days to clear out. Moses's further encroachment on city properties led to more grassroots protests, spurred by his attempt to build a parking lot in Central Park at a popular park location. Investigative reporters, New York had many newspapers at the time, began to unearth the extent of his corruption. By 1968 Moses was finally stripped of his powers by Governor Nelson Rockefeller (highly dramatic stuff), but not after shaping the city for decades to come.

Caro highlights the class bias and racism of Moses, who believed a city should benefit the most well off. He built hundreds of parks, but most of them for white middle class neighborhoods, while Black and Puerto Rican sections got a paltry few. He made sure his beaches were unofficially segregated through various means. So much of the state's resources were poured into his projects, while schools and hospitals languished. His preference for highways over mass transit condemned most of Long Island to stressful commutes for decades (persisting to this day), as opposed to mass transit rails which were affordable to build and would ease pressure off the highways. His solution to crowded traffic was always the same - more highways and bridges.

As a feat of writing, The Power Broker is not only exhaustive in detail but reads like literature. Caro's long intricate paragraphs on toll both revenues and bureaucratic processes pulse with energy, while other sections unfold like a political thriller. There's a Dickensian flare to the early sections, others with the insight of a New Yorker profile. An entire chapter on Moses's brother Paul, who was just as brilliant but had biblical streaks of bad luck (and betrayal), he ended up living in decrepitude, plays like a Saul Bellow family drama. Rhetoric is deployed with the pinpoint precision of Lincoln when describing the fate of Long Island:

The time was now, before the expressway was built, to insure not only that rapid transit would be provided but that it would be used by enough people to ease the transportation burden from the backs of all the people of Long Island. It would not be possible once the expressway was built. Build the Long Island Expressway with mass transit - or at least provision for the future installment of mass transit - and Long Island might remain a good place to live and play. Build the Long Island Expressway without mass transit and Long Island would be lost - certainly for decades, probably for centuries, possibly forever. (945)

The Power Broker is also a modern example of muckraking with a humanistic strain and a stealth critique of political science, revealing the long-term effects of unchecked power and cults of personality. Relying on statistical data and models that reduce politics down mathematical equations can be illusory. Knowledge of people and relationships, and the application of deep research can reveal the shrouded ways of power. And unlike most biographies of larger-than-life figures, Caro's democratic approach never loses sight of how people were directly affected by his actions. 

Lessons from the book still apply. We still live in a world at the mercy of powerful men. The cults of personality surrounding figures like Donald Trump and Elon Musk echo the patterns Caro diagnosed. The Power Broker endures because it transforms power from an abstraction into something visible and human. As a manual for the uses and abuses of power, it stands alone. 

Caro, Robert. The Power Broker: Robert Moses and the Fall of New York. New York: Vintage, 1974.

Book Review: The Cold War: A History by Martin Walker

Published in 1995, The Cold War: History by Martin Walker, veteran journalist for the Guardian and many other outlets, wrote a one-volume history of the era. Written at a time when the Cold War was just starting to be thought of as history, the book offers a mostly balanced overview. Walker does an admirable job of placing five decades of history into a coherent narrative, balancing many viewpoints that went into policymaking, while providing a global perspective. 

Walker is less concerned with personalities or ideology and more with economics and long-term policy outcomes. Ultimately, the Cold War was a matter of which economy performed better:

The West prevailed because its economy proved able to supply guns as well as butter, aircraft carriers and private cars, rockets as well as foreign holidays for an ever-increasing proportion of taxpayers (1-2)

A "synergy" between free enterprise and state investment in the West proved an essential in spurring economic growth and innovation, everything from massive investments in higher education after Sputnik to the construction of the Interstate highway system benefitted national security and long-term prosperity. Fostering the trading blocs of Western Europe and Japan also brought long-term dividends. The irony of Germany and Japan being the Axis Powers who waged the Second World War ended up being close Allies of the West speaks to the many contradictions and illusions of the post-war world.

An insight I gained from the book was how our perception of reality, especially when caught in the daily grind of crisis and response, can mislead anyone into short-sighted decisions. While I have little background in theory when it comes to international relations, knowing the interests and fears of the other side, and being realistic about your own objectives are critical while navigating crisis. Policies and decisions based on fear and paranoia can lead to extreme and even fatal miscalculations. Walker tracks how each side learned to coexist in the distrustful climate where disaster always loomed. 

At the Yalta Conference in February of 1945, arguably the first superpower summit, each side had their own ideas about the post-war world. The United States, under the idealism of FDR, wanted to foster democracy and ensure self-determination, guided by the United Nations. The Soviets wanted long-term security above all else after four years of bearing the brunt of defeating Germany. Allowing the Soviets satellite states in Eastern Europe was anathema to the Americans who worried the Soviets might conquer all of Europe. The clash in objectives and ideologies between the two superpowers inevitably led to conflict. 

Anti-communists in the West were convinced the Soviets were bent on world domination, while the Soviet leadership believed the West were imperialists scheming to enforce capitalism on the world. With each side believing the other wants world domination, conflict appears inevitable, and yet something else happened, in time the two sides established rules of conduct. History bears out the truth of both projections, the Soviets did force totalitarianism on Eastern Europe, while the United States often fostered authoritarian regimes under the guise of anti-communism. 

Nuclear weapons were crucial in the calculus of every crisis. Truman's decision to use atomic weapons against Japan ended the war but also moved the world into a new stage of existential crisis, the next conflict would far worse. During the brief window when America had a monopoly on atomic weapons, it pursued a policy of secrecy and leverage. Once the Soviets had their own arsenal, each side could destroy each other many times over, crisis management became a means of survival. In the many nuclear clashes of the 1950s, culminating with the Cuban Missile Crisis in October of 1962, it was essential for each side to know what they were and were not willing to concede, added with the underlying assurance neither side desired a nuclear exchange. 

The second half of the book views the latter decades of the Cold War as both superpowers discovered the limits of their power, whether it came to leveraging Allies or Quixotic attempts to achieve military superiority through fantastical technology. The age of detente which lasted through the 1970s, saw many changes, most of them positive. Both sides talked with regular frequency, engaging in arms control talks and cultural exchanges. European nations were starting to look beyond the trappings of the Cold War, whether it was East and West Germany moving towards unification, the French leading the way in creating the European Union. China began to engage, and Japan's economic achievements were the envy of the world.

Geopolitical and domestic politics led to new frictions between the U.S. and U.S.S.R. during the 1980s, as the scramble for oil and markets and heightened rhetoric threatened to rip apart the fragile peace. Yet there were signs the Soviet system was in decay, while Reagan's high defense spending led to deficits for the American economy. As Walker suggests, it might be something close to a miracle, the pressures on both nations during the late stages of the Cold War never boiled over. Reagan and Gorbachev both dismissed the hardliners in their midst and allowed the nuclear terror to dissipate - for a brief time anyway. The fall of the Berlin Wall and collapse of the Soviet served as more symbolic rather than concrete signs the travails of the Cold War were of the past; it was more of a respite and hardly an "end to history." 

Walker packs his narrative with economic data, charting the long-term and short-term consequences of policy decisions made by all the players. Government involvement in everyday life, whether in the form of defense, education, or social services, maintained a cohesion towards social democracy, especially in Western Europe, while America began to scale back the welfare state and increasingly resort to military intervention. Ultimately end of the Cold War led to a new litany of complex problems which left many nostalgic for the old days of Checkpoint Charlie and fallout shelters. 

Although written within the fragile euphoria of the 1990s while not having access to the archives which have opened since, Walker raises perceptive questions and approaches old questions from fresh angles. 

Walker, Martin, The Cold War: A History. New York: Holt, 1995.

Book Review: Future Noir: The Making of Blade Runner by Paul M. Sammon

Future Noir set a high standard for non-fiction books on film productions in its account of the Sci-Fi touchstone Blade Runner. Author Paul M. Sammon was often on set during the shoot and was familiar with all the principals involved. The book is divided into sections: the first part covers the genesis of the film adapted from Phillip K. Dick's 1968 novel Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?, then an account of the hectic production, and lastly on the film's influence and afterlife. 

While Phillip K. Dick (PKD as fans refer to him) wasn't well known outside Science Fiction circles in the 1970s, his work was starting to gain mainstream attention. Dick's recurring themes of surveillance, corporate power, technology, drugs and reality distortion became more and more prophetic in the decades following his death in 1982. Hampton Fancher was a struggling screenwriter who bought the rights to Electric Sheep and wrote the first scripts. The story followed "Blade Runner" Rick Deckard who hunts down renegade replicants in a dystopian L.A. reeling from nuclear wars and environmental collapse. 

Fancher's screenplay went through many drafts and eventually another writer (David Peoples) was brought in to add further revisions. Authorship is a recurring theme in the making of Blade Runner, because the journey from book to screen was so complicated. Sammon gives an intricate account of the power struggles that went into the final creative decisions in which the screenwriters, director, and cast all had input.

Ridley Scott was hired to direct Blade Runner (titled Dangerous Days during pre-production) coming off his 1979 Sci-Fi hit Alien. Scott had directed hundreds of commercials for the BBC, his background in graphic design and painting gave his early films a distinct style. A common argument among film buffs is whether movie directors' matter, whether the autuer theory carries any weight. Those discussions often get tedious, and I would suggest reading Future Noir (or any good book documenting a production) to understand the actual role of a director. 

Scott was demanding and involved himself in all aspects of the production. He worked closely with the screenwriters to improve the script, he preferred the hardboiled detective aspects of the story and wanted the setting to be a futuristic megalopolis, as if Los Angeles and San Francisco had merged into one city. With his background in design, he worked closely with technicians to develop the visual style. It was common for many directors to focus only on working with the cast and outsourcing the technical aspects, but Scott was part of a new generation of directors like Coppola and Spielberg who were involved in the technical and artistic aspects of filmmaking. 

Sammon provides a scene-by-scene summary of the arduous process of the production. Scott initially wanted to film at night in gritty parts of New York City, but it was logistically impossible. Instead, the L.A. of 2019 was filmed in a studio backlot which became known as "Ridleyville." Designed by Syd Mead, the neon cityscape became its own ecosystem, the set started to smell and sound like an urban wasteland. The all-night shoots took a toll on cast and crew, Scott's commanding personality bred resentments with many. The post-production process was just as complicated with all the effects work and yet more changes to the script, such as the last-minute decision to include narration, much to the chagrin of Harrison Ford. 

Released in June of 1982, Blade Runner struggled at the Box Office despite a lucrative marketing campaign. Audiences found it alienating, fans of Ford were not happy to see him playing a morally compromised protagonist. The market was overloaded with Sci-Fi in the summer of '82, as has been written about at length. But the film would find its audience on the home video boom of the 1980s. In the early 1990s a new cut of the film was released on Laserdisc, just as its influence on the Sci-Fi genre was apparent with films like Strange Days, Dark City, and The Matrix all owed much to Blade Runner. 

Future Noir provides a detailed and probing chronicle of how films were made during the 1980s. Revealing interviews with the cast are included in the appendix.