Micros of the Macro: IV things that have transpired so far in 2009 that hold a mirror up to Ugly America

Part I: Would you kiss a Christian with that mouth?

Four things have happened so far in 2009 that make larger statements about the world at large…and none of them have anything to do with Obama directly.

Audio was released last week that illustrated the rancor that Christian Bale was capable of as he unloaded on the director of photography who was fucking with one of his lights during a pivotal scene in “Terminator Salvation.” At first listen, one thinks, “Jesus Christ, what a potty-mouthed prima donna.” But when more detail came out, we learned that cinematographer Shane Hurlbut was pretty much in the wrong in the situation.
Now, I don’t know either party personally—but I feel like I know Bale. Christian Bale is a rare actor. His first movie was the lead in a Spielberg film…at the pubescent age of 13. For those that haven’t seen that movie, a pox on your house. I remember seeing that "Empire of the Sun" at the Fox Theatre with my folks in 1988 and thinking at the time that kid was great. He was spoiled, humbled, starved, and traumatized. Most importantly, Bale was believable in the role, all before he sprouted pubes. Of course he would become one of the greatest actors of his generation.
I don’t really care that Bale yelled at this douche-nozzle Hurlburt—maybe he deserved it, I dunno. But it doesn’t demonize Bale in my mind, nor does it angelize him either. I saw a comment on a digg.com story and the user said something to the effect—“I’m going to boycott this movie. I will only see it 13 times instead of 15.” Bottom line, no one cares that Bale is a foul-mouthed rageaholic—because Bruce Wayne is supposed to this angry—his parents are dead. He gets a pass.
Naysayers will naysay, “But he isn’t Bruce Wayne, he was just playing a role for a movie.” Well naysayers, tell that the over 500 million dollars and one of the last actors in this class of method who take their job seriously enough to put out a good product.
The moral of the story: Maybe McG should have hired a real cinematographer and not the guy he worked with to make all those shitty Smashmouth videos back when Slick Willy was living up to his nicker in the Oval Office.

Bottom Line: Method acting and hack photo-directors whose resume includes “Drumline” and “Crazy/Beautiful” don’t mix. Was Jeff Cronenweth too expensive, McG?