Hollywood's no holier than thou...

IF EVER I HAD A COUNTRY : LXXVI

IF ever I had a Country with or without any " Wood " in the aching aping Film Industry
And if ever (you know the refrain by now) I were NOMINATED - not hoodwinked into
assuming the role of the Chief FILM CENSOR by every paid-up (most likely not) member of
the millions of ciné-clubs, cinémathèques, Actors' Studios, Film-Workers' Unions, Cinema-
Makers and Cinema peddlers' and Distributors' sororities and fraternities
The first thing you bet I'll do is to issue an Irrefutable Command to burn every spool or reel
of film (excepting one of each as evidence in case of litigation) made after the Year Elia
Kazan stopped filming " America ! America ! " and " Viva Zapata ! " - not to mention
documentaries
And then proceed forthwith and/or thenceforth without any hesitation whatsoever to ban all
films based on the undeviating formula of extended excruciating display of VIOLENCE for
the sake of relishing VIOLENCE in the name of our children watching with us into the late-
night on the sofa including the repeated RAPE against the wall on the kitchen-table astride
the toilet-seat of poor but heavily-snorting apparently DEFENCELESS but willingly-ripped
actresses on scene leading to the apochryphal MURDER of the hero or heroin with electric-saws
and choppers à la " Massacre à la Tronçonneuse " butcheries
Then shut out of my chaste and highly-principled patrie ALL box-office breaking films especially
those crowned with Oscars and Ceasars Grammies and Bears which encourage and advocate the
use of pernicious drugs and hard liquor while the cameras O ! so casually ! pick up the eternal
" bar " scene of the Western giving us what they really want to : the lewd swaying of nakedly-
clad lithesome nubile dames in the distance - the lazy loose car-screen wipers - the " porno " of
nunneries
You bet also invite ALL ME-TOO gals and Orphaned-Boy Cubs victims of Paedophilic Preachers and
Priests and Professors posing as Critics to rip up cinema seats and leave behind just enough
methane gas to blow up theatre halls after being subject against their will to watch copy-cat
Hollywood Bollywood Chollywood Nollywood versions of Michael Jackson's beyond-the-grave
calesthenics even while being attired in " Prince in New York " Eddy Murphy fineries
And this, if ever I were appointed the Chief Film Censor of my highly-principled moral Philistinic
Country spurning aping Bolly-Cholly-Nolly antics of Miss Holly in the pantry
And even if I never ever had no country worth acting out in the wild woods of the Imaginary

© T. Wignesan - Paris, April 10, 2019