blatantly misrepresent and invert reality.nYet, in a departure from Soviet style, thenpolitical message of American moviesntypically has not been ham-handedlyndidactic; instead, it has been introducednin the guise of the supposed verities ofnour time. The few films that deviatenfrom this mold (such as Hanoi Hilton,nRed Dawn, Top Gun) have beenngreeted with relentless scorn and hostilitynby critics objecting to their politicalncontent, not to their aesthetic shortcomings.nThe gradual absorption of the NewnLeft radicalism of the 1960’s into thencultural mainstream of the 1970’s andn1980’s has been one of the adversarynculture’s greatest victories in the pastnquarter-century. Also, since then1960’s, the meaning of what is “political”nhas been greatly expanded toninclude, for example, certain sexualnpreferences. Richard Grenier is one ofna handful of critics who have steadfastlynobserved and commented on thesentrends as they manifest themselves inncontemporary American culture. Hisnlatest book is a rich collection of hisncritical writings, mostly but not exclusivelyndealing with American film.nThere are also pieces on a HavananFilm Festival, on various art exhibits,non the PEN Club congress in NewnYork, and on Broadway theater; a substantialnintroductory essay lucidly tiesntogether the themes of the shorternpieces that follow.nGrenier defines his “central subject”nas “the spiritual quest of thenartistic class for a more meaningfulnworld, and the estrangement of thisnclass from the traditional values of itsnown society, which it finds unworthyn… a class of people who havenhigh opinions of themselves . . . butnthink the society from which theynemerged contemptible.” It may be historicallynunprecedented to find a concentrationnof social critics in the worldnof popular entertainment, but oursnafter all is the land of opportunity. Onenmay surmise that many of these alienatednindividuals begin their careersnaspiring to nothing loftier than makingnit to the top and making big bucks; itnwould indeed be interesting to tracenthe transformation of the Hollywoodncelebrity into the self-appointed consciencenof his time. One explanationnGrenier offers for this transformation isnthat “our society fails to satisfy then’need to believe.'” While I thoroughlynagree with this diagnosis, and havenmyself addressed the issue in its connectionnwith literary and academic intellectuals,nit seems more difficult tongrasp why this malaise has made suchnheadway among those in the entertainmentnindustry — among, that is, peoplengenerally lacking in profundity andnin intellectual or artistic distinction,npeople whose way of life is scarcelynconducive to critical reflection. It isnpossible that the entertainment industrynattracts a type of person morensentimental and guilt-ridden about hisnhuge income than business and professionalnpeople in similar income brackets,nand who finds solace and compensationnin left-liberal political activism.nThere is also the historical factor — thenpopularity of leftist causes in Hollywoodndating from the 1930’s — althoughnduring the 30’s, 40’s, and 50’snthese attitudes found scant expressionnin Hollywood movies, which remainednresolutely cheerful, apolitical, and oftennoutright patriotic.nGrenier’s talent for spotting andnexplaining political bias or deceptivenessnis well-honed. Of the much-acclaimednGandhi, he writes that thenfilm “grotesquely distorts both Gandhi’snlife and character to the point thatnit is nothing more than a pious fraud.”nHe recalls that “when Gandhi’s wifenlay dying of pneumonia and Britishndoctors insisted that a shot of penicillinnwould save her, Gandhi refused tonhave this alien medicine injected intonher body and simply let her die. (Itnmust be noted that when Gandhi contractednmalaria shortly afterward, henaccepted for himself the alien medicinenquinine, and that when he hadnappendicitis he allowed British doctorsnto perform on him the alien outrage ofnan appendectomy.)” While the moviendwelt on the oppressiveness of thenBritish, it failed to show how, “As soonnas the oppressive British were gone, thenIndians — gentle, tolerant people thatnthey are — gave themselves over to annorgy of bloodletting.”nThe makers of the movie Redsnintended the audience to glean that,n”If one has noble intentions, andnmeans well toward one’s fellow man,nand one’s heart is pure and generousnand filled with love, then that is whatnmatters. If one’s ideas are unworkable,nbring social disruption, disaster, andnnneven tragedy on a colossal scale — onencan’t be expected to foresee all that,ncan one?” Of the numerous anti-GIAnfilms, Grenier notes: “the trick, if onenwants to make a movie showing Americannsociety as brutal and aggressive, isnto concoct a story without the faintestnhint of an adversary, revealing a tranquil,npeaceful universe, in which we,nonly we, disturb the loving order ofnnature.” By the same token, “Thenmessage of E.T. . . . is that except fornus, it is a benign and cuddly universe.nGentle, loving E.T. … is treatednroughly by a bunch of insensitive aggressivenAmericans, who think thatneverything outside their narrow worldnis dangerous.”nWe are also indebted to Grenier fornhaving introduced the concept ofn”treason chic” in the wake of Britishnmovies about the lives of Guy Burgess,nDonald Maclean, and Kim Philby. Innthe BBC television play “An EnglishmannAbroad,” treason “seems to havenbeen reduced to the level of minornmisdemeanor, entirely forgivable as annupperclass peccadillo — at least if committednby a gentleman with verve andnthe right sort of tailor.” In the recentnCosta-Gavras film Betrayed, “Thencrowd wears KKK robes and singsn’Amazing Grace,’ and we realize withnhorror that all of these elements togethernmake up an American fascistnfront: the KKK, Nazis, Christianity,nand American patriotism.”nThe PBS series The Africans leadsnhim to ask: “Are you an admirer ofnMuammar Qaddafi? Are you lookingnforward to a wodd where Africansn(from Africa) will be the new ‘Brahmins’nwhile Westerners are the newn’Untouchables’? . . . Do you believenthat a person of even partly AfricannJULY 1991/39n