While certainly a piece of sleekly stylized kitsch like most thrillers, Marathon Man has enough memorable idiosyncrasy and preternatural paranoiac energy to warrant modern day reexamining, even if the world is already contaminated enough with goyim-geared Zionist propaganda. Indeed, featuring a super sly blue-eyed Chinese hit men that gets in a homoerotic fight to the death with a macho gay Jew government secret agent, angry Auschwitz-esque German Shepherds that horrify the neurotic titular protagonist, scheming German shiksa spies, an unintentionally hilarious elderly Jew versus elderly Aryan road rage incident that is ignited by the extremely hostile and seemingly senile Hebrew and climaxes with both men dying in a mini urban holocaust after they accidentally crash their cars into an oil truck, and Laurence Olivier in the last great role of his career as a diamond-fetishizing Nazi war criminal that acts more like a stereotypical evil Jew than an evil Nazi, Marathon Man is a sort of conspicuously kosher Kafkaesque thriller that makes more allegorical references to the holocaust than Orson Welles’ rather dark masterpiece The Trial (1962), albeit in executed in a less abstract and more organic fashion that makes one realize that auteur Schlesinger has a deep-seated and visceral fear and hatred of both Nazis and Germans. In fact, in an interview with his mischling half-Dutch nephew Ian Buruma featured in the book Conversations with John Schlesinger (2006), the director confessed in regard to his Teutophobia, “We all have prejudices, of course, and one of mine is a hatred of all things German, as a result of the Holocaust […] Going to Germany after the war and even working there, in Berlin on Ian McEwan’s THE INNOCENT, made me very conscious of my anti-German feelings. I never suffered personally at their hands, but I do remember a relative in Holland named Martin Schuster, who was in a wheelchair. Martin, who was much older than me, had the same birth date as I did and always used to remember my birthday. Then suddenly the birthday cards stopped. I heard subsequently that he had been sent to a concentration camp and was exterminated. I find it awfully difficult to divorce all that from my basic anti-German feelings.” In other words, like many modern Jews, Schlesinger seems incapable of differentiating between Nazis and Germans and sees them both as sort of perennial mortal enemies. To Schlesinger's credit, his anti-Aryanism did not stop him from collaborating with Austrian master conductor and one-time Nazi party member Herbert von Karajan on a production of Giuseppe Verdi's classic opera Un ballo in maschera aka A Masked Ball.
While Szell is delighted when Babe tells him that he has no interest in keeping his diamonds, he gets somewhat offended when the protagonists tells him that he can keep as many of the expensive rocks that he can swallow and then forces him to eat one. While all this is going on, Babe sadistically taunts Szell by throwing handfuls of diamonds at him, which are ultimately lost in water below them. After having trouble swallowing just one diamond, Szell refuses to eat anymore, stating in a somewhat aristocratic fashion, “No. You’ll have to shoot me.” At this point, Szell proceeds to accuse Babe of being too much of a coward to shoot him, stating just before rudely spitting in his face, “You’re too weak. Your father was weak in his way, your brother in his, now you in yours. You’re all so predictable.” Naturally, Babe becomes quite upset at this point and proceeds to lunge at Szell and ultimately drops his gun in the process. After dropping his gun, Szell reveals the large blade he has hidden under his sleeve and proceeds to attempt to strike Babe, who opts to throw an open briefcase containing the remaining diamonds down a stairwell that leads to water. Of course, Szell instantly forgets about his fight with Babe and dives down the stairwell, only to absurdly commit accidental suicide in the process as a result of tripping after impaling himself with his own blade. Indeed, in what is arguably the mostly seemingly unintentionally ironic and insanely improbable conclusion in film history, a young Jew chooses personal integrity over a life of fortune and guaranteed financial security and in the process accidentally causes a sinisterly parsimonious Shylock-esque Nazi war criminal that is greedier than kosher swindler Bernie Madoff to kill himself, thus giving him his much desired revenge but also leaving him completely free of the guilt of killing an elderly man. In the end, Babe also demonstrates that he has gotten over his Oedipal hang-ups, as he tosses his father’s pistol into a river. Undoubtedly, in Babe's mind, causing the demise of Dr. Szell and his henchmen was a sort of therapeutic means for him to feel like he had avenged his father against the supposedly antisemitic McCarthyites that ruined both his life and career and, in the process, destroyed both the protagonist's childhood and overall mental well-being.
Thankfully, the moral and philosophical hypocrisies of ostensibly pacifistic left-wing Jewish intellectual types are exposed throughout the film in somewhat subtle ways, not least of all in a scene where the protagonist’s brother Doc states to him, “For a liberal pacifist, you’ve got some sense of vengeance.” Indeed, Babe may lack the testicular fortitude to physically fight and confront people, but his entire life is driven by a deep-seated desire to avenge his disgraced father, even if he refuses to admit it himself, hence why he initially neglects to admit to his Judaic professor Biesenthal that his dissertation on “The use of tyranny in American political life” will focus on the McCarthy witch-hunts that destroyed his father. Notably, Biesenthal, who was a protege of the protagonist's father, states to Babe regarding his father's demise, “I think he was guilty. I think he was guilty of being arrogant and brilliant and of being naïve. He was guilty of not being able to cope with the humiliation of being dismissed. But of the charges, I know he was innocent. And, if it matters, Levy, I wept the day he died.” Of course, Babe, who seems to suffer from the same sort of self-deceptive arrogance and naivety as his father, seems to ignore Biesenthal's kind critique of his dead daddy as he wants to remember his progenitor as a total innocent, hence his remark to the professor, “Sir, I don’t have to worry about clearing him because he was innocent.”
Naturally, one of the reasons McCarthy is still so ruthlessly attacked by Hollywood is because he was right about commie infiltration as demonstrated by the fact that America has degenerated into a anti-Christian multicultural shithole where a Zionistic Jewish Trotskyite like Bernie Sanders, who belonged to the Young People's Socialist League (YPSL) and volunteered at volunteered at Sha’ar HaAmakim kibbutz in northern Israel, could be considered an ideal presidential candidate among largely university educated young people who do not even realize that the pseudo-intellectual twaddle that they were brainwashed with while in college was largely inspired by the vengeful anti-European theories of highly scornful and resentful Jewish émigrés of the Frankfurt School like Herbert “Father of the New Left” Marcuse, Max Horkheimer, and Theodor W. Adorno who had committed their life's work to destroying Occidental Civilization because Uncle Adolf kicked them out of Europe and sent their family members to concentration camps (though it should be noted that they were all already well committed to the anti-Aryan cause long before the Nazi takeover). Undoubtedly, after obtaining his doctorate in history, the protagonist of Marathon Man would probably dedicate his life to writing hardly historically accurate swill about how innately evil, racist, sexist, and homophobic Europeans are and how the United States is an evil fascistic empire that is run by psychopathic WASPs. As for Schlesinger, he had good reason to loathe McCarthy, as the U.S. Senator linked communism and homosexuality with mental instability and even once hilariously stated to a reporter, “If you want to be against McCarthy, boys, you've got to be either a Communist or a cocksucker.” Of course, considering the close intersecting ties of the political homos and dykes of the LGBT movement, colored crybabies of the Black Lives Matter movement, and countless left-wing Jewish groups, it seems that McCarthy was quite prophetic and that, if anything, he actually underestimated his enemies and the sort of corrosive effect that they would ultimately have on the United States.
Undoubtedly, with the exception of his assumedly lost documentary Israel: A Right to Live (1967)—a Zionist propaganda piece that was written by London Jew Wolf Mankowitz and produced by kosher Canadian Herschel Saltzman that was apparently screened a couple times and then quickly fell into obscurity (though, according to William J. Mann in his bio Edge of Midnight: The Life of John Schlesinger (2005), the director never actually completed the film “due to 'creative differences' with the BBC”)—Marathon Man is surely Schlesinger’s most overtly and shamelessly Jewish film. To be fair, Schlesinger was a more ‘humanistic’ filmmaker than a ‘political’ one and he was quite vocal about the fact that he most enjoyed directing more personal gay-themed works like the quite autobiographical Sunday Bloody Sunday (1971), which depicts the somewhat pathetic life of a middle-aged gay Jewish doctor who suffers much heartbreak and loneliness as a result of having to share his young goy boy toy boyfriend with a bitchy divorced bourgeois broad in her mid-30s in what ultimately proves to be a decidedly doomed bizarre love triangle.
Although innately flawed and sometimes convoluted, Marathon Man is what I see as the ideal Hollywood thriller as a consistently enthralling roller-coaster of a movie that is equipped with just enough sophistication and eccentricity to appeal to serious cinephiles that care more about nuanced cinematic art than the sort of grandiose and bombastic blockbuster farts that culturally retarded anti-auteurs like Michael Bay and J.J. Abrams unleash on the worlds. If The Day of the Locust—a film that, like the 1939 Nathanael West novel of the same name that it is based, is a scathing and even sometimes grotesque satire of Hebraic Hollywood from a Hebraic perspective—unequivocally demonstrated that Schlesinger saw Tinseltown as sort of a vaudevillian brothel city, Marathon Man reveals that the auteur and probably a good percentage of his kinsmen, see antisemitism (and, to a lesser extent, homo-hating), especially of the Nazi oriented sorts, as the ultimate real-life Kafkaesque nightmare. Indeed, the film may fail in many regards, but it indubitably succeeds in expressing the seemingly inborn pathological fear, paranoia, and obscene obsession that members of god's (seemingly forsaken) chosen tribe have for their enemies. Undoubtedly, I have seen more Nazi and holocaust themed films than I care to admit, yet Marathon Man is the only one where I felt like I was able to actually understand the sort of crippling primordial fear and paranoia that seems to epitomize a lot of post-WWII Jews. While Tarantino's Inglourious Basterds exposes the sort of sadistic bloodlust that the more Zionistic of Jews have for their enemies, Marathon Man exposes in a sort of psychodramatic form the sort of internal hell that plagues the mind of a Jewish intellectual when he thinks of having to personally confront his enemies. Indeed, more than just a fictional Nazi war criminal, Laurence Olivier's Dr. Szell is like a composite of all the gentiles that Jews fear, including the stoic aristocrat, Nazi doctor, ruthless businessman, and evil goy genius. In other words, not only is Marathon Man that ultimate Jewish thriller, but it is also arguably the greatest Hebraic psychological horror flick, thus making it all the more fitting that it was produced by an inordinately masculine and handsome member of the tribe who once described himself as a “Jewish Nazi.”