Oct 30, 2016


Notably, in early 1944, screenwriter and journalist Ben Hecht—a relatively assimilated American Jew that initially had little interest in his Hebrew roots but later became a rabid Zionist propagandist of sorts as a result of the Third Reich—wrote in his book A Guide for the Bedevilled (1944), “Hollywood, is a town, an industry, an empire of toy-making, invented by Jews, dominated by Jews, and made to flourish like unto the land of Solomon—by Jews, and a few embattled Irishmen. Such is its truth, and if you wish to look for its deep meanings, it is into this truth you must look.” Indeed, unless you are a complete fucking moron or have never seen any movies, you know that Jews dominate and have always dominated Tinseltown, yet, somewhat curiously, Hollywood rarely releases truly Hebraic movies. Sure, there are plenty of crappy kosher comedies where some effeminate asshole Ashkenazi slob like Seth Rogen tries to be funny by mentioning his “Jewfro” in between creepily lusting over some dumb blonde shiksa, but rarely do Hollywood films actually take an intricate approach to the Jewish question or Jewish themes. After all, aside from his Hebraic brand of humor, Woody Allen only represents Judaism so much as he is a walking and talking racial stereotype as the virtual archetype of the classically weak, neurotic, and whiny four-eyed kosher cripple. Somewhat ironically but not surprisingly, the handful of the films that really take an intelligent approach to Judaism focus heavily on the theme of Jewish self-hatred, which seems to be almost as old as Judaism itself as indicated by historical figures ranging from Spanish Grand Inquisitor Tomás de Torquemada to tragic Viennese philosopher Otto Weininger to suicidal American neo-Nazi Daniel Burros. In fact, both Arthur Hiller’s Robert Shaw adaptation The Man in the Glass Booth (1975) and Henry Bean’s The Believer (2001), which was inspired by Burros, feature Jews masquerading as Nazis and delivering rather intricate and articulate speeches regarding the timeless problem of the Jewish peril. While it does not exactly feature Hebrew Hitlerites sporting jackboots, David Mamet’s third feature Homicide (1991) also deals with the theme of the self-loathing Jew in the form of a police hostage negotiator who unwittingly gets involved in a Zionist terrorist conspiracy and ultimately commits an act of Zio-terrorism himself against a neo-Nazi business owner in a desperate attempt to overcome his self-hatred and create a strong Jewish identity, only to be betrayed by his new Jew buddies and virtually destroy his entire life in the process. As a staunch Zionist conservative that more or less regards Jews who consider their favorite Jew to be Anne Frank as treacherous self-loathing scum, Mamet is thankfully no stereotypical xenophiliac Hollywood Jewish liberal faggot and he has no problem portraying blacks as extremely uncouth racists and rapist beasts (e.g. Edmond). In Homicide, Mamet reveals that no one likes kikes, including some kikes like the film's protagonist. 

 In his imperative text The Wicked Son: Anti-Semitism, Jewish self-hatred, and the Jews (2006), Mamet makes it quite clear that he believes that the goyim will never fully accept the Jews and that any Jew that seeks to assimilate is dangerously deluded, stating, “Just as (in the view of the Christians) Christianity superseded Judaism; so the contemporary Jew may long to cast off that which he (consciously or unconsciously) understands as an outdated system of allegiance. This confused Jew may aspire to join in that which he understands as a more modern, non-Jewish confraternity, entry into which will more fully integrate him into society at large, thus bringing happiness. He is, here, twice deluded. First, the state of perfect, relaxed integration that he ascribes to the non-Jews, their absence of anomie and anxiety, is a fiction […] Second, this integration the Jew supposes his Christian brothers enjoy—just beyond the borders of his own unfortunate (spiritual or racial) segregation—should it exist, the Jew would, in fact, be debarred from it because of his race.” Somewhat curiously, in Homicide—a work that Mamet created when he was somewhat less racially radicalized—it is ultimately the fanatical Zionist Jews that most betray the Jew protagonist who is somewhat strangely played by glaring Sicilian-American Joe Mantegna. In fact, it is only when the protagonist comes into contact with other more fanatical treacherous Jews that he becomes treacherous himself and unintentionally kills his Aryan goy best friend/partner in the process. In unintentionally hilarious stereotypical oversensitive Jewish fashion, the protagonist completely loses it after his friend calls him a “kike” during a heated argument and decides to become a Zionist terrorist virtually overnight, thus breaking his oath as a police officer in the process. Quite contrary to Mamet’s unapologetically Zionistic political writings, Homicide is a fairly nuanced film that more or less argues that Jews are damned if they do and damned if they don’t when it comes to embracing their race and culture. In fact, while Mamet would probably argue otherwise, the film might be best described as a quasi-nihilistic Jewish film noir where the protagonist is confronted with the nature of evil and discovers that members of his race are just as violent, hateful, and criminally inclined as the neo-Nazis and ghetto negroes that despise them.  In short, it is strange to think that the same made that directed Homicide also wrote, “The quiddity of the self-loathing Jew, the opted-out Jew, is his grotesquerie.  Both to his people and to the enemies of his people, he is out of step, out of tune, and pathetic—his efforts at assimilation foiling the possibility of contentment with a group to which he actually belongs.”

 While the hapless working-class Hebrew protagonist of Homicide is unlikable for many reasons, not least of all because of his nonchalant self-hatred and rather glaring attempts at overcompensating for said self-hatred, he is far from the most unlikable yid in the entire film. In terms of its eclectic collection of repugnant, ugly, arrogant, smug, and/or just downright exceedingly unlikable collection of kosher characters, the film is somewhat ironically more effective in terms of spreading negative Jewish stereotypes than National Socialist classics like octoroon Jew Fritz Hippler’s agitprop doc Der Ewige Jude (1940) aka The Eternal Jew and Veit Harlan’s lavish melodrama Jud Süß (1940). Certainly you know a character is repugnant when you cannot help but hate him even though his mother was just brutally murdered as in the case in regard to a certain audaciously arrogant and pushy Jewish doctor in the film named Dr. Klein who, in stereotypical Jewish fashion, uses his clout to force the protagonist to take his criminal case, but of course that is exactly the sort of thing that makes a Mamet flick interesting. Undoubtedly, if Homicide was not the product of a Judaic mind, it would be regarded as a quasi-esoteric antisemitism that demonstrates with fairly good reason as to why everyone hates Jews, including many Jews. Featuring a protagonist that is so ignorant of his race and culture that he confuses Yiddish with Hebrew and is not beneath joking about certain negative stereotypes regarding his race, Homicide is also notable in that the ‘hero’ is a Jewish philistine who is surely more likeable and sympathetic than the rest of the members of his seemingly forsaken race that he encounters in his strange personal odyssey. In short, the film does not exactly make the best case for Judaism or Zionist, but then again it features an even less unflattering portrayal of urban negroes and their striking tendency to commit the most brutal and violent of criminal acts for the most trivial acts (notably, it is ultimately one of these brutal black crimes that leads the protagonist to virtually destroying his entire life after mistaking a coldblooded ghetto murder for an antisemitic conspiracy). Indeed, the only possible conclusion that one can come to after watching the film is that most Jews are too obsessed with their own race and Israel to ever be trusted by American—whether they be black or white—hence the reason as to why the majority of Jews endorse the flooding of the United States with third world rabble, thus weakening their much despised European-American enemy. 

 In The Wicked Son, Mamet interestingly argued, “Why do some Jews reject their religion and their race? For two reasons: because it is ‘too Jewish’ and because it is not Jewish enough.” As far as the film’s protagonist Bobby Gold (Joe Mantegna) is concerned, he seems to be more honest than Mamet on the subject as he rejects Judaism because he associates it with weakness, cowardliness, and effeminacy, which are surely serious sins among cops. As a Jew, Bobby was blessed with the gift of gab and thus he was more or less forced to be the ‘The Talking Man’ aka ‘hostage negotiator’ of his police district (although the city is never mentioned, the film was actually filmed in the aesthetically grotesque post-Europid wasteland known as Baltimore). To the slight chagrin of his partner and best friend Tim Sullivan (William H. Macy), Bobby always has to be the first cop to bust in the door when nabbing bad guys because he is desperate to prove himself and demonstrate that he is no stereotypical pussy candy ass Jew coward.  Of course, as a self-hating Hebrew that has no problem hearing co-workers regularly throw around racial slurs like ‘yid,’ Bobby is more masochistic than he is courageous.

 At the beginning of the film, a bitchy negro named Mr. Patterson (Louis Murray) that works for the city mayor severely internally wounds Bobby by calling him a “little kike,” thus initiating the first step in the protagonist's rather tragic path of personal transformation of the racially oriented sort that ultimately ends in abject failure. Since the FBI botched busting a negro dope dealer and killer named Robert Randolph (Ving Rhames) in a night raid that resulted in the deaths of two FBI agents, Bobby and his partner Tim have been assigned to locate him since they are already fairly familiar with him. Unfortunately while on the way to grab Randolph’s cousin, Bobby happens upon a murder scene in a black ghetto where an elderly Jewess was mysteriously killed during an armed robbery. According to some ebonics literate negroid children, the old Jewess was murdered because of supposed secret treasure in the basement of her store.  When a black officer arrives on the scene, he practically blames the Jewess for getting liquidated since she had no business operating a store in an all-negro ghetto neighborhood. Needless to say, Bobby is more than a little bit irked when the dead Hebrewess’ outstandingly arrogant doctor son Dr. Klein (J.S. Block)—a virtual posterboy for Nazi propaganda as far as grotesque Jewish caricature are concerned who immediately complains of an antisemitic conspiracy in regard to his mother's death—uses his kosher clout to make him work on his dead mother’s murder case. Indeed, instead of having the honor of busting ghetto arch-criminal Randolph and swaggering around like a big bad hero, Bobby has to suffer the whiny and hysterical paranoia of a family of opulent Jews that he just cannot stomach as they clearly remind him of the negative qualities that he hates in himself, not to mention the fact that they have way more money than he does. 

 While Bobby manages to coerce Randolph’s proud negress mother into helping the police to catch her son by telling her that they will put him in prison instead of six feet under, his superior—a loudmouthed guido named Lieutenant Senna (Vincent Guastaferro)—makes him take on the lowly job of dealing with the Jews because, as he tells him, “they’re your people.”  Needless to say, Bobby is extremely offended when his boss describes the Jews as his people, so he goes on a rant and yells, “I’m his people?! I thought I was your people, Lieu,” but he is ultimately a pushover and begrudgingly takes the dreaded Judaic case.  When Bobby is forced to go by the luxurious Klein castle after the Jews get scared as a result of ostensibly hearing a gunshot on their roof, Dr. Klein thoroughly pisses off the protagonist by threatening him by stating in an audaciously arrogant fashion, “Have you got the pride to do that job you were given? Do your job, or else.”  Despite himself being connected to a Jewish terrorist conspiracy, dickhead Klein believes there is an antisemitic conspiracy and berates Bobby for supposedly thinking that he is dealing with, “hysterical Jews [...] that are always making it up.”  Rather ironically, the conclusion of the film ultimately proves that, for the most part, Dr. Klein is a delusional Hebrew hysteric that could probably find a antisemitism at a Bar Mitzvah.

After getting extremely annoyed with the Jews, Bobby goes to a room and vents out his frustration to his partner Tim over the phone, stating in an almost wildly excited fashion, “I’m stuck here with my – my Jews. You should see this fuckin’ room […] Fuckin’ bullshit. Bunch of high-strung fuckin’ bullshit. They pay so much taxes – Fuck ‘em […] Don’t send the old lady work down there and tell me how you’re so surprised. Fuck ‘em and the taxes they pay. You tell me. Ten more bucks a week they’re making’, lettin’ her [dead Jewess] work down there? Ha! Hey, not my people, baby. Fuck ‘em. There’s so much antisemitism the last 4,000 years. . .we must be doin’ somethin’ [to] bring it about.” Unbeknownst to Tim, Dr. Klein’s daughter Miss Klein (Mamet’s wife Rebecca Pidgeon) was in the room and heard the entire conversation. While Bobby immediately attempts to apologize, Miss Klein immediately verbally reams him by passionately declaring, “My grandmother was kill today. She stayed down there because she wanted to stay there. She was a fighter. She wanted to die there. She died there. You’re a Jew, and you talk that way in the house of the dead. Do you have any shame? […] Do you hate yourself that much? Do you belong nowhere?” After swearing to Miss Klein that he will “find her killer” in regard to her dead grandfather, Bobby hears a gunshot and immediately investigates the roof of the building where he finds a torn piece of paper that reads “Grofaz.” That same night, Bobby also discovers that the elderly dead Jewess used to be a Zionist terrorist that was involved in gunrunning, among other things.  At this point, Bobby begins to speculate that there is indeed some sort of antisemitic conspiracy and soon finds himself engulfed in a sort of quasi-Kafka nightmare of obscene obsession and paranoia that inspires in him an ultimately rather untimely Jewish awakening of sorts.

 As a result of being forcibly entrenched in a world of Jews and anti-Jew hatred (aside from the death of the old Jewess, the protagonist discovers anti-Jew flyers around the city that compares Jews to rats), Bobby becomes extremely enamored with the Klein case and begins following every lead he has, including the word “Grofaz,” which he soon discovers is an archaic nickname for Adolf Hitler and an acronym for ‘Größter Feldherr aller Zeiten’ aka ‘Greatest War Leader of All Time,’ thus leading him to suspect that there is indeed some sort of sinister neo-Nazi plot against the Klein family. Meanwhile, Bobby’s relationship with his partner Tim begins to fall apart as a result of his obsession with the Jewish case and his glaring disinterest with the big Randolph case that they were working on together. While Tim gives Bobby wonderful words of advice about the importance of not being too emotionally attached to the case by stating, “Bob, I’m gonna tell you what the old whore said, and this is the truest thing I know. ‘When you start cumin’ with the customers, it’s time to quit,’” he also gets quite emotional about his partner's strange unbecoming behavior and calls him a “dumb kike.” When Bobby goes to a Jewish library and an absurdly arrogant Orthodox Jew says to him, “you’re say you’re a Jew, and you can’t read Hebrew. What are you then?,” it naturally only compounds his guilty feelings of racial confusion and deracination. While at the library, Bobby asks for information on ‘GröFaZ’ and ‘anti-Semitic acts,’ but the two-faced yarmulke-adorned librarian (Mamet stock Jew Steve Goldstein), who is actually a Mossad agent, lies to him and says that they have no such information because he knows that it has been loaned out to a local Zionist terrorist organization that is plotting to attack a local neo-Nazi. 

 Upon eavesdropping on the lying kippah-sporting librarian, Bobby learns that the information has been loaned out to a group called ‘212’ and soon discovers their address, which he visits. When Bobby dares to ask a couple young joggers about the seemingly empty building at the address, they reveal they are Israeli terrorists by randomly pulling guns on him and threatening to kill him. Luckily, a small group of Jews, who were previously at the Klein home, recognize Bobby and invite him into the building, which is revealed to be the headquarters a secret Zionist paramilitary operation that seems to be inspired by the real-life Jewish Defense League (JDL) founded by assassinated ultra-nationalist rebbe Meir Kahane. Somewhat humorously, the old Zionist terrorists have stereotypically ugly old Jewish guy names like ‘Barry,’ ‘Lev,’ and ‘Merv.’ Impressed by the militancy and supposed masculinity of these militant Zionist Jews, Bobby immediately offers to help, but when the elderly Israeli leader of the group demands that he give the group an ancient document in regard to gunrunning with various local Jewish names and addresses, he refuses since it is police evidence.  Bobby found the document in the basement of the store owned by the dead Jewess and it seems to prove that a good percentage of the city's Jewish population is involved in a vast Zionist conspiracy that has lasted for about half a century. When Bobby insists that he cannot do it because he does not want to break his oath as a police officer, the geriatric Zionist leader mocks him by asking him “Where are you loyalties?” and then has him thrown out, but not before melodramatically stating to his compatriots in regard to the protagonist, “He disgusts me.”  Like a stereotypical overbearing and shrill-sounding Jewish mother, the Israeli terrorist attempts to guilt Bobby into stealing the document by questioning his Jewishness, but the cop just cannot bring himself to break his oath, even though he is willing to now commit terrorist acts.  Indeed, it seems that the Zionist geezer's whiny words worked wonders on old Bobby boy, as he has transformed from a self-loathing Jew into a Zionist terrorist in virtually a single day.

 While Bobby’s meeting with the Zionist terrorists certainly did not go well, he still attempts to help them by hooking up with one of their female members. Indeed, Bobby originally met Chava (Natalija Nogulich)—a vaguely attractive Jewess with a fairly flat affect—at the Klein’s house and it does not take long for him to lose his phony tough guy person and pour his entire heart out to her, stating like the stereotypical whiny Jew that he used to hate, “They said I was a pussy all my life. They said I was a pussy because I was a Jew. And the cops – They’d say, ‘Send a Jew? Might as well send a broad on a job. Send a broad through the door.’ That’s what they said. All my goddamn life. And I listened to them. I was the donkey. I was the clown […] They made me the hostage negotiator ‘cause I knew how the bad guys felt.” Ultimately, Bobby makes the major mistake of carrying out one of Chava’s Zionist terrorist missions out for her by blowing up the model train store of a neo-Nazi named Anderson. Needless to say, when Bobby examines Anderson’s shop and sees a swastika flag, a picture of a Nazi soldier shooting a Jewess holding a baby, and books like Martin Luther’s anti-Jew classic The Jews and Their Lies, he is more than a little bit angered, but he does not get the gall to blow up the building until he reads a propaganda pamphlet that reads, “It is only common sense to cull the weak. The admixture of Jewish blood into the clean White Race is a crime against humanity against which the greatest plagues of history must pale. The effeminate ideals and weak physical appearance of the Jew proclaim to all his inferiority. To tolerate the presence of the vile sickness in our midst is not justice, IT IS MADNESS.”  While Bobby has no understanding of Hebrew or the tenets of the Jewish religion, he can certainly identify with the racial element of Judaism, hence his rather melodramatic reaction to the racially-charged propaganda pamphlet. Unfortunately for Bobby, members of the Zionist terrorist group took photos of the protagonist blowing up the store and use said photos to blackmail him into giving them the document they want. On top of everything else, Bobby realizes just after he is blackmailed and beaten by a rather rotund Zio-terrorist goon named Aaron (Jewish magician and sometimes actor Ricky Jay) that he is late for his date with his partner Tim to knab alpha-criminal Robert Randolph. 

 If his day could not get any worse, Bobby discovers upon arriving at Randolph’s rather quaint ghetto hideout that the entire operation has turned into a horrific disaster and that is partner Tim has been shot. Of course, had Bobby been on time to negotiate with Randolph instead of committing terrorist acts for the benefit of treacherous Israeli terrorists, his best friend probably would have not been shot. Totally unafraid of dying at this point in his increasingly lonely and pathetic life, Bobby bravely busts through the building while Randolph is shooting at cops to get to his partner Tim, who randomly states to him, “Do you remember that girl that onetime, Bob?” and then tragically dies in his arms. With his best friend dead, Bobby screams to Randolph, “You shot my partner, you fucking nigger. I’m gonna kill you” and then climbs down to a sort of almost mystical subterranean realm to confront the negro in a crucial climatic scene that auteur Mamet notably described in the Criterion Collection DVD audio commentary as, “The sort of apotheosis. The meeting with the keeper of the secrets […] He’s going deep into the cave to find the Minotaur. To finally find the secrets. And he’s finally about to descent into the underworld.”

In what proves to be a symbolic common occurrence for the protagonist that demonstrates that he is a shitty cop that lacks the marital prowess to fight bad guys, Bobby manages to lose his gun while making his descent and is thus naturally immediately shot when he finally reaches Randolph, who acts rather smug and mocks him for losing his gun. When Randolph asks the protagonist if he wants to beg for his life, Bobby pathetically replies, “It’s not worth anything.” When Bobby makes the quasi-suicidal mistake of claiming to Randolph that his mother sold him out to the cops, the negro copkiller shoots him again and calls him a “piece of shit,” to which the injured protagonist replies while in glaring pain, “I am a piece of shit. I killed my partner, and your mama turned you in.” When Bobby proves to Randolph that his mother sold him out by showing him a bogus passport that the police procured for the specific purpose of busting him, the trigger-happy negro outlaw is so stunned that he does not even notice when a couple cops show up and blow him away with a couple bullets. After being shot, Randolph’s body lands on Bobby and he states while lying on the wounded Jew, “God. God help me. What did you do to me?”

In what ultimately proves to be quite bitter biting irony for the protagonist, Bobby learns in the end that there was never any sort of antisemitic conspiracy and that elderly Jewess Klein was actually killed by the very same young preteen negro boys who proclaimed at the crime scene that she was killed for mythical treasure in her basement. Additionally, the ‘grofaz’ paper that Bobby found on the Klein’s roof was not in reference to Uncle Adolf but a pigeon feed company called ‘Grofazt.’ On top of everything else, Bobby is kicked off of homicide and is immediately regulated to a stereotypical Jewish position of abstract paper-shuffling.   Notably, at the beginning of the film, a deranged dude named Walter B. Wells (Colin Stinton) that committed familicide with his trusty hunting rifle made a somewhat strange offer to Bobby by stating, “Perhaps someday I could tell you the nature of evil. Would you like to know how to – to solve the problem of evil?,” but the protagonist declines, stating, “No, man, ‘cause if I did, then I’d be out of the job.” Of course, by the end of the film, Bobby has encountered various forms of evil, including among his own race, but he is hardly capable of destroying it, especially since he himself pathetically succumbed to it.

 While auteur David Mamet decided for whatever reason not to mention to the name of the superlatively shitty quasi-third world east coast city where it was shot, Homicide—a title that perfectly describes said city’s most booming trade aside from dope-dealing—does a great job demonstrating that Baltimore is an absolutely forsaken and criminally malignant hellhole where corrupt self-serving spades run the government, perennially unemployed killer colored folks roam the streets at all hours, and corrupt white collar chosenites use their money to manipulate politicians to benefit of their true nation of Israel. Of course, the entire film almost takes a sadistic glee in depicting virtually every great American racial stereotype, including that bourgeois Jews are paranoid supporters of Zionistic terror, urban negroes are barbaric brutes that are not beneath committing senseless violent murders during early childhood, and Jews make for crappy cops because they do not have the testicular fortitude or martial prowess to get the job done nor deal with the ruthless teasing of his fellow cops. It should also be noted that the least violent and racially hateful people in the entire film are the ‘white’ (translation: non-Jewish people of European descent), yet the black and Jewish characters are so belligerent in their racial sensitivity that one would almost assume that Mamet is attempting to say that there is a direct link between racial neuroticism and criminality. Indeed, the only whites that dare to say racially insensitive things are neo-Nazis and they do it via flyers while the negroes characters, who seem to see their anti-whitey hatred as a sort of badge of honor, quite regularly exchange charming racial slurs to complete strangers.  In fact, even when the protagonist's friend calls him a “kike,” it hardly seems to be for racial reasons.  As for the negroes, Mamet makes it more than clear in Homicide that he believes that American negroes—a group that has been exploited as a sort of socio-cultural political weapon by Hollywood, Jewish groups, and politicians for at least a century—has a deep-seated collective hatred for all-things-kosher.  In short, Mamet's confirms in a variety of subtle ways that he believes that all the conspiracy theories about Jews are true.

 Undoubtedly, after watching Homicide, the only conclusion that the viewer can come to is that it sucks being Jewish, especially when it comes to having to deal with other Jews. Indeed, had the protagonist not had the grand misfortune of interacting with pushy rich extremist Jews, he probably would not have virtually lost his mind, committed a terrorist act, and got his best friend killed. Considering Mamet’s own rather extreme Zionistic tendencies, it is quite curious that he would write and directed such a strangely Zio-unfriendly film, but as Stuart Klawans noted in his essay Homicide: What Are You, Then?, “That even the hint of a Jewish conspiracy should be conjured in HOMICIDE may disturb some viewers, including, today, perhaps the author himself, who in recent years has issued a number of bluntly worded commentaries accusing virtually all critics of the State of Israel of anti-Semitism (or of self-hatred, if they’re Jews), and of having feeble brains haunted by THE PROTOCOLS OF THE ELDERS OF ZION. Rather than address the merits of this position, I will merely suggest that it’s a mistake to identify Mamet the artist with Mamet the polemicist.”

 Although just speculation, I can only assume that Mamet, as a famous and politically active Jew, is perfectly aware of the criminal and conspiratorial nature of rich and powerful Jews and that has instilled him with a certain deep and unwavering sense of paranoia that makes him feel the need to be militant about Zionism lest there be some neo-pogroms or even another shoah. After all, people that are not wracked with guilt do not feel the need to go on the defensive, yet Hollywood incessantly defecates out anti-intellectual holocaust agitprop films that are supposed to make the stupid goyim think that the Jews are history's foremost innocent victim despite all the contemporary (and historical) evidence to the contrary.  This might also explain why Jews constantly complain about the holocaust and antisemitism in Hollywood films and TV shows yet virtually never actually create truly Judaic themed works, as if they are afraid of gentiles, especially white Christians, truly understanding the intrinsically racially chauvinistic nature of Judaism and what it truly means to be a Jew in a world full of ostensibly stupid gentiles.  Hollywood's curious fear of revealing its innate Jewishness certainly disturbed Ben Hecht, who once complained regarding the complete and utter disappearance of Jews from films of the 1930s and 1940s, “The greatest single Jewish phenomenon in our country in the last twenty years has been the almost complete disappearance of the Jew from American fiction, stage, radio, and movies. . . .And for this false oblivion and for this dangerous exile, the movies are the most to blame.”

Aside from emotionally manipulative holocaust propaganda films featuring good goy protagonist's like Schindler's List (1993), the occasional overt Zionist propaganda film like Otto Preminger's Exodus (1960) and Spielberg's Munich (2005), and the disgusting deluge of semi-cryptically kosher comedies featuring revolting Hebraic hogs like Seth Rogen, Hebrew-owned Hollywood is strangely silent when it comes to addressing its own heritage.  As far is films that manage combine genre conventions with Jewish themes, the only thing I can really compare Homicide to is the fairly mediocre fourth season The X-Files episode “Kaddish,” which takes the legend of the Golem from the Kabbalah and transports it to contemporary times in an imaginary antisemitic Brooklyn where a trio of thuggish neo-Nazi proles kill an orthodox Jew for fun after reading one-too-many antisemitic flyers.  Needless to say, The X-Files episode is putridly politically correct (in fact, the original antagonists were a Louis Farrakhan-like figure and his negro underlings, but the Fox network were afraid that dindus would get made, so Jewish writer Howard Gordon rewrote the episode to make it more characteristically p.c.).  Of course, I doubt any Jew would have the artistic or intellectual integrity to make a film like Homicide nowadays, as it would be politically and financially risky to make a fairly ambiguous intellectual neo-noir that dares to features a group of shadowy scheming Jewish terrorists whose members are a also part of the city's cultural elite.  Indeed not unlike the pre-Code Hollywood flick The House of Rothschild (1934), Mamet's film ultimately does more harm to the Judaic cause than good.

Homicide hints at many reasons as to why people hate the Jews, but it never really gets to the heart of the issue, which Friedrich Nietzsche probably summed up best when he wrote in his classic text On the Genealogy of Morality (1887) in regard the decidedly deleterious effect of Jews on the Occident, “Whatever else has been done to damage the powerful and great of this earth seems trivial compared with what the Jews have done, that priestly people who succeeded in avenging themselves on their enemies and oppressors by radically inverting all their values, that is, by an act of the most spiritual vengeance. This was a strategy entirely appropriate to a priestly people in whom vindictiveness had gone most deeply underground. It was the Jew who, with frightening consistency, dared to invert the aristocratic value equations good/noble/powerful/beautiful/happy/favored-of-the-gods and maintain, with the furious hatred of the underprivileged and impotent, that "only the poor, the powerless, are good; only the suffering, sick, and ugly, truly blessed. But you noble and mighty ones of the earth will be, to all eternity, the evil, the cruel, the avaricious, the godless, and thus the cursed and damned!" . . . We know who has fallen heir to this Jewish inversion of values.. . . In reference to the grand and unspeakably disastrous initiative which the Jews have launched by this most radical of all declarations of war, I wish to repeat a statement I made in a different context (BEYOND GOOD AND EVIL), to wit, that it was the Jews who started the slave revolt in morals; a revolt with two millennia of history behind it, which we have lost sight of today simply because it has triumphed so completely.”  Indeed, only in a slave-morality-ridden bizarro world dreamed up by Jews could homos, cripples, lard asses, dykes, mongrels, untermenschen, and retards be propped up as the height of moral righteousness while white men—the single greatest contributors to culture, civilization, science, and technology—are the most monstrous.

Undoubtedly, what makes Homicide and Mamet's greatest works most interesting is that they dare to depict harsh realities as opposed to Hollywood bullshit, but I would expect nothing less from a man that once hilariously wrote, “In my lifetime we Jews, mythologically, have served the cause of soft pornography.  The world weeps at our being killed.  What fun.  I wrote, years ago, that Holocaust films are ‘MANDINGO for Jews,’ and that the thrill, for the audience, came and comes from a protected indulgence of anti-Semitism: they get to see us killed and to explain to themselves that they feel bad about.”  Of course, Homicide is ultimately a reminder as to why I am not being paranoid when I sense that someone is attempting to emotionally swindle me anytime I see a holocaust movie.

-Ty E

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