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Posts Tagged ‘Alison Klayman’

It is surely a coincidence that recent developments in British current affairs took place on the same day that temperatures in the country rose to something close to what you would expect to encounter in the proverbial fiery pits of the underworld. I was half-expecting to see news reports of fish falling from the sky, the Thames turning to blood, and horses eating each other, but these may not arrive until after the customary visit to see the Queen (yet to occur as I write). If nothing else it made for an appropriately hellish atmosphere in a poorly air-conditioned cinema as we sat and watched Alison Klayman’s new documentary, The Brink, as this film concerns the recent doings of Steve Bannon. It would of course be unfair to suggest that Bannon is the Devil; but, to paraphrase The West Wing, I would not be at all surprised to learn that he is the one who is sent out to buy the Devil’s cigarettes.

Who, you may possibly be asking, is Steve Bannon, and why does he deserve such opprobrium (even maybe odium)? Well, if you actually are wondering this, I sort of envy you. Where do you start with describing Bannon? Former US Navy officer, former investment banker at Goldman Sachs, sometime film producer and director (most likely nothing you have ever seen – if you’re lucky, anyway), at one point director of the closed-system experiment Biosphere 2, Bannon eventually rose to significance after founding the far-right news network Breitbart and becoming involved in the election campaign of Donald Trump.

Bannon ended up as Chief Strategist in the grotesque circus of the Trump White House, famously having all the chairs taken out of his office in order to create a more dynamic atmosphere about the place. This role ended after the Charlottesville protests and Trump’s response to them, and it is at this point, in the late summer of 2017, that the film opens, with Bannon having fallen from grace (if that word is even applicable in the context)

Most of it consists of Klayman quietly handing Bannon metaphorical rope as he goes about his self-appointed task as… what? It seems to be vague at the best of times. To begin with there is a sense of quiet optimism, with Bannon spinning things so that leaving the White House is really a positive step for him, as he can now go out and about as a roving envoy and cheerleader for the Trump administration without any of the fetters of actually being involved with it. Hopeful young Republicans seek him out in search of his endorsement, and he leaves his customary behind-the-scenes role to make various personal appearances.

Showing the same unerringly keen instincts that led him to back Trump, one of the first recipients of Bannon’s magic touch is Roy Moore, a far-right Alabama judge who was accused of sex crimes in the midst of his campaign to become a senator, resulting in the first Democrat being sent to Washington from the state in a quarter of century. There is then something of a tiff with Trump, after Bannon suggests some of the campaign’s meetings with Russians were unpatriotic.

And so Bannon clears off to Europe where a whole new menagerie of horrors await his attempts to organise a far-right populist movement there, as well, up to and including an appearance by Nigel Farage (here caught between his time with UKIP and his latest scheme). He hangs out with various wealthy white men who still manage to sincerely believe they are somehow rebels against the elite, is left reeling by an encounter with the notoriously tough political interviewer Susannah Reid (NB to foreign readers: this review contains irony), and hosts a series of dinners for people who are often described in the media as neo-fascists. Oddly enough, Klayman always seems to be being sent out of the room whenever Bannon meets up with one of the billionaires who finance his various activities.

Then it’s back to the USA, with Bannon cranking out another of his propaganda films (‘you say that as if propaganda’s a bad thing,’ he observes) in support of Trump ahead of the mid-term elections. It is hard not to detect some trace of Bannon wanting to achieve some kind of rapprochement with his former boss and get back into favour, for all that he declares on camera he’s not bothered about having a close personal relationship with the man. It goes on and on and on: smirking, dog-whistle politics and a wall-to-wall sense of entitlement. There is at least some schadenfreude to be had as Bannon grows increasingly embattled as the film goes on: he loses all patience with one particularly self-regarding underling and appoints his nephew (whose previous role has apparently been to make him snacks) as effective overseer of the entire European project, while another choice moment sees a frustrated Bannon literally banging his head against the furniture in mid-phone.

But on the whole this is thoroughly grim stuff. You can understand Klayman’s decision to step well back as an artist and let Bannon and his associates speak for themselves – they do as good a job of indicting themselves as any journalist could – but it is still pretty dispiriting and unpalatable. The film is, at best, a trip into a world of complete moral bankruptcy and deeply skewed perspectives. Practically the first thing you see in the film is Bannon enthusing over the efficiency of the design and engineering that went into the Birkenau extermination camp, not even seeming to consider that doing this might be considered a touch provocative by many people (he is repeatedly taken to task for using anti-Semitic tropes later in the film, especially with regard to George Soros). We also see him marvelling after his first encounter with a mainstream audience (as opposed to the Trump base he usually appears before). ‘They hate [Trump]!’ Bannon says, practically shaking his head in amazement. ‘Those aren’t even screaming liberals, they’re decent folks.’

On the whole this is documentary film-making stripped back to the barest of bones – the odd caption, and a very occasional intervention on-camera from Klayman herself, but most of the rest of it is Bannon talking – smooth, more than a bit self-regarding, a polished (perhaps glib) media performer. The cracks still show over the course of the movie. But why should someone who isn’t a right-wing acolyte subject themselves to ninety minutes of this stuff? If nothing else it is an important reminder of the forces of division at work in the world today, of exactly who these people are, what they represent and how they operate. You turn your back and look away from all this at your peril.

It is difficult to be particularly hopeful at the moment if you are not a right-wing nationalist of some stripe, and to be honest watching The Brink is unlikely engender much optimism. But it is a film of some importance for the same reason that it is important to watch the news and read the papers. Do we get much sense of who Steve Bannon really is as a man? Actually, I think we do, and for all that he comes across fairly amiably in the film, it is ultimately not that pretty. But it is the forces he represents and is attempting marshal that really matter, and which give the film a demand on the attention of anyone interested in the future of the world.

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