Hillary Clinton’s health had long been an issue, but chiefly amongst those who have long maintained she is unfit in more than a physical sense to take up residence at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. Her latest episode has makes it a mainstream fixation
I’d wager that everyone reading this knows about Akira Kurosawa’s classic 1950 film Rashomon. Even if you haven’t seen it, you know the story—or at least you know the story of the story: that the Japanese director told the same tale from several points of view. The story the woodcutter told was not the story the bandit retailed, which was not what the wife said, which was not what the dead samurai, through the courtesy of a medium, propounded.
I said that Rashomon told the same story from different perspectives. That’s how the film’s distinctiveness is usually summarised. In fact, Kurosawa was more radical. He told several different stories on the same set with the same characters so that disparate narratives appear like facets on a unifying jewel whose existence is stipulated but unreal.
Less well known is that Kurosawa, through the same medium that brought us the samurai’s version of events, has weighed in on the upcoming American presidential election. The transmission is garbled in places and the denouement is lacking, but the fragments that exist make for an engaging montage. I am pleased to be able to share a precis of the great director’s hitherto unknown tableaux with you now.
Scenario One: Reverberations in the Echo Chamber. All unfolded as was foretold from the beginning. It was always going to be Hillary Clinton in 2016. The campaign of Bernie Sanders, we now can see, was just a distraction, mildly irritating to team Clinton, but no match for the zeitgeist, which the first female president of the United States has clearly embodied.
On the other side of the aisle, it was Snow Don and the sixteen dwarves, Sleepy, Grumpy, Happy, Dopey, and the rest.
The dwarves were euthanised one after the next, much to the surprise of the punditocracy. (Aside from your host: I certainly shared in that surprise.)
This is Kurosawa, not Disney, however, and so the poisoned apple was not proffered by Evil Queen Hillary but was brought along by Donald Trump himself in his lunch pail. He ate it in public, for all to see, and then exploded, in slow motion, as Hillary scooped up an astonishing victory almost as robust as what Ronald Reagan enjoyed in 1984.
There was some drama along the way. There was, for example, the Dukakis Feint. In mid-August, it was pointed out by some observers that, back in 1988, Michael “Tank Commander” Dukakis was seventeen points ahead in the polls against George H.W. Bush. As all the world remembers, Dukakis then went on to trounce Bush in the election, served two terms, and helped prop up the tottering Soviet Union for another twenty years while … Oh, wait: that was from a rejected script.
What actually happened, as all the world really does remember, is that Dukakis (who?) imploded in a surrounding sea of titters after his appearance, avec combat helmet, atop an Abrams M1 tank. He hasn’t been heard from since. Is he still with us? I frankly do not know. I’ll look it up when I finish this column.
