Jane Fonda

Reviewing All Together, Holy Motors, and Gregory Crewdson: Brief Encounters

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The Venice Film Festival is the oldest celluloid gala in the world. Not as vaunted and haunted by the publicity machines but intellectually more serious than Cannes. The Mostra Internazionale d'Arte Cinematografica di Venezia, a most prestigious element of the Venice Biennale, bestowed its Golden Lion award, its top honor, on an Israeli film called Lebanon. It is a relentlessly honest film about war itself but also specifically about Israel's first real war in Lebanon.

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OK, the Bertrand Russell psychodrama is also malicious but maybe not dangerously so.  About six months ago, I came across a web posting announcing the formation of a Bertrand Russell Tribunal on Palestine. Yes, it was one of those false kangaroo courts in which, from the Stalin era on, convenes not to evaluate evidence but to condemn. In loads of cases the verdicts brought quick impositions of the death sentence. One such process is now unfolding in Tehran, and its backers are Muslim millenarians and western leftists who are prone to support every revolution even if it is decidedly and objecti

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Stuck In Saigon

It seems the McCain campaign aren't the only folks still focused on Vietnam. This fund-raising plea from NRSC vice-chairman Sen. Orrin Hatch landed in my inbox late last night, compliments of the wing-nuts at GOPUSA.

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Jane Fonda Resurfaces

I understand that Sean Penn, Susan Sarandon, Tim Robbins and Danny Glover spoke at the Saturday anti-war protest on the National Mall. What with Jesse Jackson and Rep. Dennis Kucinich also addressing the crowd, the nation is now armed with the most sensitive ethical arguments against our involvement in Iraq. But let's face it. The piece de resistance in this preachy cohort was Jane Fonda. (Long ago, during the Vietnam War, she once came to our house in that unforgettable slithery outfit she wore in Klute.) Her appearance should be a moral crisis for all who are against the war.

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Gorgeous he was not. He stood a few inches over five feet tall. In place of his usual Savile Row suit, he wore a light blazer and dark slacks, and his shirt flared open at the collar. His hair was thinning, his tan fading. But, when he ascended the podium, the audience cheered. It was Saturday night at the First Congregational Church in downtown Washington, and George Galloway—the most celebrated visiting orator in the United States—was about to address the antiwar crowd. Galloway’s day job is representing an East London neighborhood in British Parliament for the respect Party.

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New Choice

Sarah Wildman writes on the pro-choice movement during the 2004 election.

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