#Flynn Fleischer

[miguelmarias]

Los westerns de Budd Boetticher

Defensa e ilustración de la serie "B"

Extraño caso el de Budd Boetticher, tan outsider como Samuel Fuller o Sam Peckinpah, pero menos espectacular y llamativo, más discreto y confidencial, con menos seguidores entre la afición que cualquiera de ellos (o que Don Siegel), y relegado hoy a la inacción y al olvido.

Nacido en 1916 en Chicago, lesionado jugando al «football» y enviado a reponerse en México, se enamoró —como Peckinpah— de ese país, y de la tauromaquia; se hizo torero, y ello le valió un contrato como asesor técnico en Blood and Sand (Sangre y arena, 1941) de Mamoulian; atraído desde entonces por el cine, fue primero botones, luego ayudante de dirección, antes de convertirse en un prolífico artesano de la serie «B» que trataba de sacar el mayor partido posible de los convencionales guiones y los exiguos medios materiales que se le confiaban; entre 1956 y 1960 realizó las ocho películas que le han valido su modesta celebridad entre los cinéfilos de mi generación; durante ocho años nada se supo de él, excepto que había estado a punto de morir, en México, tratando de llevar a término su obra más ambiciosa y personal, al parecer fallida, pero por la que dice querer ser juzgado; Arruza (1968), homenaje de amistad y admiración al diestro mexicano Carlos Arruza, que falleció antes de que Boetticher pudiese completar la película; al año siguiente, gracias al intérprete de su primer «western» (The Cimarron Kid, 1951), Audie Murphy, Boetticher regresa al género y a la producción marginal de Hollywood, y realiza el que sigue siendo —que se sepa— su último film, A Time for Dying.

Desde entonces, Boetticher no ha vuelto a dar señales de vida. Se supo que había escrito una crónica de sus años de intemperie y desdichas en México, When In Disgrace, y una novela, The Long Hard Year of the White Rolls-Royce, y que quería rodar en Europa —incluso se mencionó nuestro país— esta historia y un «western»; Albert Maltz escribió, a partir de un tratamiento de Boetticher, el guion de Two Mules for Sister Sara (Dos mulas y una mujer, 1969), que dirigió Siegel y que no he visto. Y nunca más se supo... la desaparición de Boetticher ha sido tan absoluta y misteriosa como la de Alexander Mackendrick después de Don't Make Waves (No hagan olas, 1967); de Nicholas Ray y Samuel Fuller llegaban, si no películas, algunas noticias de vez en cuando — confusas contradictorias, casi siempre malas, pero noticias al fin y al cabo—; de Boetticher y Mackendrick, en cambio, ni siquiera estoy seguro de que no hayan muerto, y todo hace pensar, aunque no son demasiado viejos, que —si sobreviven— su tiempo ha pasado ya irremisiblemente. No parece probable, en 1980, que Budd Boetticher consiga hacer otra película; y, de lograrlo, apostaría a que sucedería con ella lo mismo que con las dos últimas y —en España— con las que permiten considerarle un gran cineasta.

Porque, hay que reconocerlo, al hablar de Boetticher —y bien poco se hace— se piensa, casi exclusivamente, en seis de los siete «westerns» protagonizados por Randolph Scott que realizó entre 1956 y 1959 y en The Rise and Fall of Legs Diamond (La ley del hampa, 1960), olvidando —tal vez injustamente— o simplemente ignorando todo lo anterior, tanto las once películas firmadas con su nombre completo (Oscar Boetticher, Jr.) de 1944 a 1950 como las trece que hizo desde 1950 a 1955. Salvo The Bullfigther and the Lady (El torero y la dama, 1951), la primera que consideró suficientemente personal como para firmarla con su apodo familiar, creo haber visto las pocas que se han estrenado en España, entre las que no se cuenta, claro está, ninguno de los «westerns» con Scott que cimentaron su modesta y minoritaria fama entre ciertos grupos aislados de cinéfilos; estrenada en 1965, The Rise and Fall of Legs Diamond es la única que tuvo algún eco entre nosotros. En 1969, RTVE nos permitió descubrir Buchanan Rides Alone (1958) y, dos años más tarde, y con la notable y curiosa excepción de la primera de la serie, Seven Men from Now (1956), los restantes Scott.

Esto significa que, para los aficionados más jóvenes, Boetticher es un perfecto desconocido, poco más que un nombre —que ya ni suena a marca de ascensores—, y su cine algo tan mítico e intangible como para mí el de Art Napoleon, Arch Oboler, Ida Lupino o —hasta hace bien poco— el de Abraham L. Polonsky o Herbert J. Biberman (no confundir con el torpe Abner); temo, incluso, que las películas de Boetticher ni siquiera exciten su curiosidad, y es posible, además, que —de llegar a verlas— les decepcionasen, ya que nada hay tan ajeno y diametralmente opuesto, en su espíritu y en sus modales, en su actitud para con los personajes y el espectador, al cine de los años 70 como el de Boetticher, salvo —en otro sentido— el de Allan Dwan entre 1954 y 1958, y debo admitir que no es lo mismo formarse como espectador a base de Ford, Walsh, Hawks, Anthony Mann (o Hathaway), que a dieta de Altman, Kubrick, Ken Russell, Cavani o el último Bertolucci (que son, para mí, piensos compuestos sintéticos, ensaladas de excrementos, «spots» publicitarios con pretensiones y ruedas de molino para  comulgantes beatos, la mayoría de las veces).

Porque Boetticher representa, en su forma más extremada, las virtudes de la serie «B»: modestia, concisión, laconismo, rigor, sencillez e inventiva; es decir, las características básicas del cine clásico americano al desnudo, despojadas de todo ornamento e incluso de cualquier aspiración a la complejidad, a la profundidad, al arte o a la belleza. Por eso es preciso, ya que hace mucho que la serie «B» dejó de existir, explicar un poco el marco en el que Boetticher no sólo se formó sino que desarrolló toda su actividad como cineasta; de otro modo, resultará, creo yo, imposible apreciar qué es lo que tiene valor en su cine, más allá de los atributos genéricos del tipo de películas que hacía.

LA SERIE «B»

Pese a la existencia de, por lo menos, tres interesantes libros que se ocupan de ella, Kings of the Bs (ed. Todd McCarthy y Charles Flynn, Dutton and Co., 1975), «B» Movies (Don Miller, Curtis Books, 1973) y Hollyywood Corral (Don Miller, Popular Library, 1976), definir la serie «B» es todavía una empresa que, si se quiere ser preciso, no resulta fácil. Desde un punto de vista puramente histórico y económico, la serie «B» existió entre 1935 y 1958, y estaba compuesta por películas de bajo coste, rodadas en pocos días y sin actores conocidos, de duración inferior a los 90 minutos «standard» y destinadas al «complemento» de los programas dobles. Casi no se anunciaban, y recibían tan sólo un pequeño porcentaje de los ingresos en taquilla del cine en que se proyectaban, por lo que a las grandes compañías no les resultaba rentable producirlas, y las compraban, por lotes, a pequeños estudios especializados (Republic, P.R.C., Monogram, Allied Artists, etc.), o constituían pequeñas «unidades» propias que servían, al mismo tiempo, de cantera de talentos, escuela y celda de castigo del personal que tenían bajo contrato. A partir de 1950, con la llegada de la televisión y el declive de los índices de asistencia al cine, el público americano perdió la afición —notable sobre todo, durante la II Guerra Mundial, y también durante la de Corea— a los programas dobles, y las películas «B» fueron haciéndose escasas, convirtiéndose poco a poco en material para los «drive-in»; la venta por Howard Hughes de la R.K.O., en 1955, y —sobre todo—, la desaparición de la Republic, en 1959, marcan el fin de un tipo de películas cuyo equivalente no existe hoy día, salvo, en cierto sentido —en otros representan lo contrario—, algunas de las producidas directamente para la televisión y las patrocinadas por Roger Corman y su New World Pictures.

Ahora bien, lo interesante de la serie «B» no son las motivaciones comerciales de su existencia, ni sus condicionamientos económicos, aunque estos factores sean determinantes y sirvan para explicar sus características estéticas y narrativas. En la serie «B» el criterio rector no es la perfección —que se da por inalcanzable—, sino la eficacia; su espíritu, si se quiere, es «posibilista» e incluso, salvo excepciones, conformista: estamos a dos pasos de la convención y la rutina, la pobreza y el simplismo, lo aproximativo y la chapucería, la monotonía y la indiferencia, el maniqueísmo y la desidia, la fealdad y la cochambre: hay películas de John English, William Witney, Joe Kane, Spencer G. Bennett, Frank G. McDonald, Lesley Selander y otros muchos que son mortalmente aburridas y de una torpeza asombrosa en tan curtidos y activos veteranos, y sin que ello impida que, en ocasiones, lo mismo ellos que Joseph H. Lewis, Phil Karson, Jack Arnold, Norman Foster, Lewis R. Foster, Edward Ludwig, Andrew L. Stone, André De Toth, Gordon Douglas, Stuart R. Heisler, Rudolph Maté o Félix F. Feist hayan realizado películas interesantes o excelentes, comparables incluso a las de Samuel Fuller, Anthony Mann, Richard Fleischer o Don Siegel. Pero no hay que olvidar que el margen de acción es muy estrecho: si no hay tiempo para lo superfluo, tampoco lo hay, ciertamente, para la profundidad, y muy raramente para la innovación o la audacia. De ahí el peligro y la frustración que supone para algunos cineastas más ambiciosos o sensibles, menos dotados para las escenas de acción o menos interesados por la violencia, más cultos o intelectuales, permanecer demasiado tiempo confinados en la serie «B»; para otros, en cambio, más limitados, de menor envergadura, menos confesionales, esas mismas condiciones de producción son no sólo una excelente escuela profesional sino un marco especialmente adecuado para el desarrollo de su particular talento, necesitado, sin duda, del estímulo de las dificultades y de la disciplina que impone la carencia: por eso no ha resultado siempre beneficiosa, o totalmente satisfactoria, su graduación o ascenso a la serie «A», al menos hasta que han logrado aclimatarse al nuevo sistema de fabricación y reajustar su estilo al relativo «exceso» de medios, acostumbrándose a la mayor libertad de iniciativa y a las interferencias de «estrellas» o ejecutivos que a menudo acompañan a la responsabilidad del éxito de una inversión considerable; véase, por ejemplo, el caso de Siegel, que me parece muy ilustrativo: tras la maestría absoluta demostrada en The Killers (Código del hampa, 1964), rodada para TV, al pasar a la serie «A» alterna una obra maestra que hubiera sido imposible como «B», Madigan (Brigada Homicida, 1968), con la hueca y recargada retórica de Coogan's Bluff (La jungla humana, 1968), o la eficacia insuperable de Dirty Harry (Harry, el sucio, 1971) con los efectismos pretenciosos que malogran, en parte, The Beguiled (El seductor, 1971), o esa dinámica declaración de principios e independencia que es Charley Varrick (La gran estafa, 1973) con la impersonal habilidad de Telefon (Teléfono, 1977), o la precisión y nitidez —excesivamente brillante y atildada, sin embargo— de The Black Windmill (El molino negro, 1974) con la fofa autocompasión —tan opuesta a cuanto representaron los personajes encarnados por John Wayne hasta entonces— de The Shootist (El último pistolero, 1976), hasta llegar de nuevo a la adecuación de medios y objetivos que supone una obra tan modesta, funcional y sobria como Escape from Alcatraz (Fuga de Alcatraz, 1979), ejemplo hoy casi único de la pervivencia espiritual de la ya inexistente serie «B» y de la aplicación rigurosa y oportuna de las posibilidades de acabado que otorga el presupuesto de una serie «A» (no he visto Two Mules for Sister Sara, cuyo planteamiento es muy «B», pero con actores «A»).

Con todo ello quiero hacer ver que tampoco es cuestión de adoptar una actitud de puritano desprecio al «vil metal», que un cineasta no tiene por qué hacer votos de pobreza, que la serie «B» —refugio de originales excéntricos como Edgar G. Ulmer— tenía más de «ghetto» que de «escuela de cine», y nada de paraíso. Impuestas en «lotes» como complemento de programa por las productoras, las películas de serie «B» no tenían que abrirse camino en competencia con otras —ni apenas camino que recorrer: su trayecto era corto y acababa en vía muerta— y basaban su existencia más en la reducción de costos que en la expectativa de ingresos; por eso, y sólo por eso, permitían ciertas libertades, aunque, claro, a cambio de renunciar a otras: si garantizaban la continuidad laboral del director, también le obligaban a aceptar cualquier guion y le condenaban casi siempre, al anonimato; su sobriedad era producto de la necesidad y la penuria, más que de una elección estética; su ritmo y su concisión narrativa eran consecuencias directas de su reducido metraje; su frescura y espontaneidad se debían a la casi imposibilidad de repetir las tomas; su expresividad primordialmente visual obedecía a que los diálogos ralentizan las escenas y a que había que dar un máximo de información en cada plano; en cambio, los actores eran malos, principiantes o viejas glorias que no exigían demasiado dinero, y no había tiempo para dirigirles; entre una cosa y otra, parece inevitable que las películas «B» tendiesen a definir a los personajes por su aspecto físico y por su comportamiento, es decir, a través del «casting» y de la propia acción, sin detenerse a profundizar en su psicología o su pasado, ya que no había tiempo para explicaciones o sutilezas: la exposición y la narración habían de ser, forzosamente, simultáneas, y en buena medida implícitas, dadas por sabidas o supuestas, convencionales o arquetípicas.

Este fue siempre el terreno en el que se movió Boetticher, el marco que condiciona, desde luego, y explica, al menos hasta cierto punto, las características básicas —nada particulares, exclusivas, personales o favorables— de su cine. Lo que sucede es que Boetticher supo convertir todas estas limitaciones en un estilo que llevó a sus últimas consecuencias y que depuró progresivamente, sobre todo en las películas que hizo con Randolph Scott.

LOS COMIENZOS

Vamos a olvidar, pues, Horizons West (Horizontes del Oeste, 1952), pese a su hermoso título, «western» semi-«negro» cuyo tardío estreno en España permitió advertir que era casi un esbozo de La ley del hampa, pero de no excesivo interés intrínseco, y aquejado de cierta imprecisión y blandura en su realización, que —cosa rara en Boetticher— quedaba por debajo del intrigante —aunque mal construido— guion de Louis Stevens; el extraño y bastante impresionante Seminole (Traición en Fort King, 1953), que exploraba un territorio ya batido admirablemente —y con épico aliento— por Raoul Walsh en Distant Drums (Tambores lejanos, 1951), notable por su policromía alucinante y por su tortuosa trama, pero falto de rigor; el casi borgesiano The Man from the Alamo (El desertor de El Álamo, 1953), con espléndida fotografía de Russell Metty y notables interpretaciones de Glenn Ford, Julia Adams, Victor Jory, Chill Wills, Neville Brand y Hugh O'Brien, planificado a menudo con una amplitud y un acierto que hacen pensar en el Hawks de Red River (Río Rojo, 1948) o el Anthony Mann de The Far Country (Tierras lejanas, 1954) y Bend of the River (Horizontes lejanos, 1951), pero obra, a fin de cuenta, muy menor, si se compara con las incursiones posteriores de Boetticher en el género. No son sus «westerns», además, entre lo que conozco, lo mejor de su carrera anterior a 1956; tampoco The Magnificent Matador (Santos el magnífico, 1955), su segundo film taurino, ni el más antiguo que he visto —el único firmado con su nombre verdadero—, Assigned to Danger (Sentenciado a muerte, 1948), sino un curiosísimo y vertiginoso «thriller», The Killer is Loose (El asesino anda suelto, 1955), con Wendell Corey, Joseph Cotten y Rhonda Fleming, que valdría la pena reconsiderar, pues guardo de él un recuerdo tan grato como fascinado, que permanece intacto pero borroso después de volver a ver su segunda mitad por TV, hace unos años.

RANDOLPH SCOTT

Sería injusto menospreciar la aportación de este singular actor —el Buster Keaton dramático; el Fritz Lang de los actores, pese a que su único encuentro, quizá prematuro, diese lugar a una de las obras menos precisas y estimulantes de ese cineasta, Western Union (Espíritu de conquista, 1941)— al logro que suponen sus películas con Boetticher (al menos, cinco de ellas, presumiblemente seis). Nacido en 1903, y actor más por vocación que por necesidad —parece que heredó o ganó pronto una gran fortuna; aunque no he podido confirmar este extremo, merecería ser más que un mito—, muy aficionado al «western», Scott produjo con Harry Joe Brown casi todas las películas —naturalmente, de su género predilecto— en que intervino desde 1947, primero en el marco de la Producers-Actors Corporation, luego bajo la divisa de Ranow Productions. Antes de conocer a Boetticher había hecho, en sólo nueve años, cuatro «westerns» dirigidos por Ray Enright —Albuquerque, Trail Street (1947), Return of the Bad Men, Coroner Creek (1948)—, dos por Gordon Douglas —The Doolins of Oklahoma (1949) y The Nevadan (1950)—, dos por Edwin L. Marin —Colt 45 (1950) y Fort Worth (1951)—, seis a las órdenes del tuerto André De Toth —Man in the Saddle (1951), Carson City (1952), Thunder Over the Plains, The stanger Wore a Gun (1953), Riding Shotgun, The Bounty Hunter (1954)—, dos a las de Joseph H. Lewis —A Lawless Street (1956) y 7th Cavalry (1957)—, otro a las de H. Bruce Humberstone —Ten Wanted Men (1955)—, uno a las de Selander —Tall Man Riding (1955)—, y, al menos, tres más, entre ellos el excelente Hangman's Knot (Los forasteros, 1952) de Roy Huggins, todos construidos a partir de su peculiar personalidad y su granítica sobriedad —llena de dignidad y no exenta de ironía y escepticismo— como intérprete; es decir, que Scott aportaba ya una forma de estar ante la cámara, de dominar el encuadre y de desplazarse en su interior, un personaje que encarnaba unos determinados valores éticos y una particular filosofía de la vida, una forma de ver el mundo y de comportarse que tuvo su mejor representación en los siete «westerns» que dirigió Boetticher —Seven Men from Now (1956), The Tall T, Decision at Sundown (1957), Buchanan Rides Alone (1958), Ride Lonesome, Westbound y Comanche Station (1959)— y un hermoso epílogo en Ride the High Country (Duelo en la alta sierra, 1962) de Peckinpah.

EL CICLO SCOTT

Tal vez no sea muy exacto considerar como un «ciclo» estas siete películas, a pesar de que se trata de obras muy semejantes entre sí, hasta el punto de hacer difícil recordar exactamente cuál es cuál; existe entre ellas el mismo tipo de parentesco que entre las últimas (1949-1962) de Ozu, o —si se quiere buscar un paralelo menos exótico en apariencia, aunque también menos preciso— entre los cinco «westerns» de Anthony Mann con James Stewart —Winchester 73 (1950), Bend of the River (1951), The Naked Spur (Colorado Jim, 1953), The Far Country (1954) y The Man from Laramie (El hombre de Laramie, 1955)— o los tres últimos que hizo Hawks con John Wayne —Río Bravo (1958), El Dorado (1966) y Río Lobo (1970)—; como todas estas «series» de películas, las que forman las siete de Scott y Boetticher parece una sucesión de variaciones sobre el mismo tema —o, mejor dicho, conjunto de temas—, combinando de diferentes formas un cierto número de elementos comunes o semejantes; para entendernos, podríamos decir que cada uno de estos «westerns» es algo así como el resultado de lanzar los cinco dados de un cubilete de tal forma que, permaneciendo constante en cada lanzamiento una de las seis caras —el «as», que sería, evidentemente, Scott—, variasen los restantes cuatro dados, dentro de las cinco posibilidades que quedan.

Naturalmente, dentro de las serie hay películas más parecidas entre sí que otras; no hay que olvidar que sólo cinco están producidas por Scott y Harry Joe Brown, y no la primera, que es un film Batjac (la compañía de John Wayne); The Tall T, Decision at Sundown y Buchanan Rides Alone con Scott-Brown Productions, Ride Lonesome y Comanche Station propiamente Ranow, y las cinco fueron prefinanciadas y distribuidas por Columbia Pictures; Westbound fue producida por Henry Blanke y, como Seven Men from Now, distribuida por Warner Bros. Los guiones de Seven Men From Now, The Tall T, Ride Lonesome y Comanche Station son de Burt Kennedy, los de Decision at Sundown y Buchanan Rides Alone de Charles Lang, Jr., y el de Westbound —el menos relacionado con los demás— de Berne Giler y Albert Shelby Levino. Todas son en color, y las dos últimas, además, en Cinemascope; tres fueron fotografiadas por Charles Lawton, Jr., que es el único miembro del equipo técnico que ha intervenido en más de dos películas; entre los actores, sólo Karen Steele (tres apariciones), Skip Homeier y Andrew Duggan se repiten, aparte, claro, del omnipresente Scott, que es, con Boetticher, el único elemento común a las siete, y el que —de hecho— les confiere un «aire de familia» inconfundible que, de otro modo, no sería tan notable.

Si dejamos de lado Westbound —sin por ello despreciar este excelente «western» de la Guerra de Secesión, cuyo mayor «defecto» consiste en no ser realmente parte de la serie—, observamos que el personaje central es casi el mismo, aunque su nombre varíe; por lo menos, es o uno —el viudo vengativo— u otro —el vagabundo irónico— que tienen mucho en común (las pequeñas diferencias no dependen, además, de los guionistas, ya que Decision at Sundown es de Lang y The Tall T, de Kennedy).

Ninguna de las historias es muy original —salvo, quizá, la de Decision at Sundown—, si bien todas ellas contienen elementos, personajes o incidentes extraños —como los céreos y árboles ardiendo de Ride Lonesome—; si exceptuamos las más logradas, las que por su perfección rebasan incluso los confines del género —que son, para mi gusto, Comanche Station, Ride Lonesome y The Tall T—, tienen más interés como componentes de una serie que como obras aisladas, mientras que los cinco «westerns» de Anthony Mann con James Stewart son perfectamente individualizables, y tienen tanta relación con Man of the West (Hombre del Oeste, 1958) como entre sí. El nexo de unión de los seis Boetticher con Scott es su personaje central, que determina no sólo la historia —desde el planteamiento al desenlace— que cuenta, sino incluso el tono a la vez trágico e irónico que, en dosis variables, caracteriza la serie.

En Seven Men from Now y Decision at Sundown, el protagonista es viudo desde hace relativamente poco, y está decidido a vengarse: en la primera, de los siete asaltantes que dieron muerte a su esposa; en la segunda, de Tate Kimbrough (John Carroll), con quien su mujer le había traicionado poco antes de suicidarse. En Ride Lonesome y Comanche Station hace ya mucho tiempo que Scott perdió a su mujer: en la primera, el asesino (Lee Van Cleef) apenas recuerda haberla ahorcado; en la segunda, lleva diez años buscándola en territorio indio, confiando todavía ilusoriamente, en lograr rescatarla de los comanches. En The Tall T y Buchanan Rides Alone, en cambio, Scott interpreta a un personaje mucho menos obsesionado y melancólico, más tranquilo e indiferente a los reveses de la fortuna, al que casi le da lo mismo ir a un sitio que a otro, y que tiene una curiosa facilidad para verse envuelto en situaciones complicadas. Frente a los rasgos neuróticos —especialmente acentuados en Decision at Sundown pero presentes en los otros dos films de venganza y en Comanche Station— que pueden detectarse bajo el lacónico hieratismo del personaje, en The Tall T y Buchanan Rides Alone encontramos más bien falta de raíces, insensibilidad e indiferencia; en cualquier caso, Scott no interpreta nunca héroes perfectos ni célebres, sino anónimos pobladores del Oeste salvaje, llenos de defectos tanto como de virtudes, de tal forma que —cosa rara en los «westerns» de serie «B»— no hay en estas películas maniqueísmo sino, más bien, cierta ambigüedad, reforzada, además, por la habilidad de Boetticher y sus guionistas para conseguir que los «villanos» resulten siempre interesantes y, a menudo simpáticos o patéticos, más humanos incluso que el protagonista (demasiado encerrado en sí mismo como para permitir que el espectador se identifique con él plenamente). Hasta tal punto es inconmovible y monolítico, puritano e intransigente el personaje principal que se sospecha siempre —en Decision at Sundown con pleno fundamento— que sus relaciones con la mujer que busca eternamente o que fríamente trata de vengar no pudieron ser muy satisfactorias, sobre todo si se tiene en cuenta que nunca llega a establecer un contacto permanente con las mujeres que encuentra en su camino (Gail Russell en Seven Men from Now, Maureen O'Sullivan en The Tall  T, Karen Steele en Ride Lonesome, Nancy Gates en Comanche Station), a las que trata con una mezcla de respeto e indiferencia que llama la atención; de hecho, suelen ser más cálidas, confiadas y afectuosas sus relaciones tanto con viejos y fieles amigos (Arthur Hunnicut en The Tall T, Noah Beery, Jr., en Decision at Sundown) que mueren por salvarle (o casi por su culpa) como con algunos de los villanos que conoce al azar de sus aventuras por el desierto (Lee Marvin en Seven Men from Now, Richard Boone en The Tall T, L. Q. Jones en Buchanan Rides Alone, Pernell Roberts en Ride Lonesome, Claude Akins en Comanche Station).

Siendo tan centrales los personajes encarnados por Scott, se comprenderá que sus películas con Boetticher tengan algunas de sus características esenciales. En efecto, estos «westerns» de trama convencional y apariencia poco llamativa y ascética, en el fondo, son muy raros. Para empezar, no adoptan el modo épico —salvo en alguna secuencia aislada—, sino el irónico: no sólo sus protagonistas contemplan el mundo con una mirada desengañada, algo humorística pero con amargura, y encuentran dificultades para establecer contacto con otros seres, sino que ellos mismos están vistos con cierta ironía, a distancia, con una imparcialidad que hace ver lo que de enfermizo, neurótico o inhumano hay en su comportamiento. El laconismo de los personajes de Scott no es simplemente un rasgo positivo del hombre del Oeste —sobrio, estoico, reacio a la quejumbrosidad, digno—, sino también un síntoma de falta de interés por lo que le rodea, de ensimismamiento, de obsesión, de insensibilidad y desconfianza, de impotencia afectiva; son, además, personajes sin hogar ni futuro, anclados en un pasado traumático (Seven Men from Now, Decision at Sundown, Ride Lonesome, Comanche Station) del que ni la venganza (Seven Men from Now) ni la renuncia a consumarla (Decision at Sundown) le permiten liberarse; condenados a errar en círculos concéntricos —como la estructura de Comanche Station hace evidente, de forma patética, y los continuos cambios de situación de Buchanan Rides Alone casi cómicamente—, estos jinetes solitarios, sin rumbo ni destino, no conocerán nunca el descanso en la victoria. Sin llegar al absurdo excesivamente explícito e intelectualizado de los dos célebres «westerns» de Monte Hellman, Ride in the WhirIwind (A través del huracán, 1966) y The Shooting (El tiroteo, 1966), con los que —a mi entender, equivocadamente— se les ha relacionado, los de Boetticher con Scott son, en todo caso, enormemente heterodoxos; no, claro está, por la actitud crítica hacia sus protagonistas —que es, de hecho, uno de los rasgos más típicos de los mejores «westerns», desde Río Rojo de Hawks hasta These Thousand Hills (Duelo en el barro, 1958) de Fleischer, pasando por Johnny Guitar (1954) de Nicholas Ray, The Searchers (Centauros del desierto, 1956), Two Rode Together (Dos cabalgan juntos, 1961) o The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance (El hombre que mató a Liberty Valance, 1962) de Ford, Man Without a Star (La pradera sin ley, 1955) de King Vidor, Run of the Arrow (Yuma, 1957) de Fuller, Rancho Notorious (Encubridora, 1952) de Fritz Lang, Tennessee's Partner (El jugador, 1955) de Dwan, Along the Great Divide (Camino de la horca, 1951) o The Tall Men (Los implacables, 1955) de Walsh, Great Day in the Morning (Una pistola al amanecer, 1956) de Jacques Tourneur, The Silent Man (1917) de William S. Hart, The Far Country o Man of the West de Anthony Mann, etc.,— sino más bien, porque Boetticher ha llevado a sus últimas consecuencias todas y cada una de las características arquetípicas del personaje clásico del hombre del Oeste y el resultado ha sido una serie de películas totalmente abstractas, ahistóricas, desnudas, casi geométricas en la composición de cada plano y en su construcción dramática, dominadas por la simetría y la elipsis, áridas y silenciosas, de una violencia rápida y seca, sobre las que podría decirse, con tanto rigor como acerca de los últimos films americanos de Lang —While the City Sleeps (Mientras Nueva York duerme) y Beyond a Reasonable Doubt (Más allá de la duda), ambos de 1956— que el cineasta ha creado una especie de «vacío barométrico de la puesta en escena». De ahí que incluso las mejores películas de Boetticher —Comanche Station, Ride Lonesome, The Tall T, Decision at Sundown— pequen de frialdad, y que la excelente The Rise and Fall of Legs Diamond resulte demasiado despiadada como para que el pretendido patetismo de su escena final sea convincente. Podemos sentir admiración por Scott cuando, con astucia y lucidez de jugador de damas, va deshaciéndose uno a uno de sus enemigos, o cuando se ve obligado a dar muerte a un bandido que empezaba a caerle bien —como a nosotros—, o al verlo alejarse, sin esperanza y con amargura, para seguir buscando a su mujer en territorio indio, ciertamente, pero estos instantes conmovedores cobran su valor precisamente por lo infrecuentes que son, por lo poco dramatizados que están, porque resultan casi secretos e imperceptibles, por su contraste con las superficies despojadas y taciturnas de las películas en su conjunto, y, sobre todo, porque no hacen olvidar cuanto de soterradamente trágico hay en estos personajes.

EPÍLOGO

No creo que a estas alturas le preocupe a nadie saber si Budd Boetticher era o no un «autor cinematográfico» —yo tengo mis dudas, ya que veo más relación entre sus «westerns» con Scott y otros interpretados por éste a las órdenes de directores muy diferentes que entre ellos y sus restantes películas—, ni si, de haber tenido mejores oportunidades o haber contado con medios más abundantes, hubiera llegado a ser un cineasta de mayor estatura. Me conformo con saber que fue él, casualmente o no, quien dirigió las obras de madurez de un actor-productor tan interesante y con tanta personalidad como Scott, además de La ley del hampa, y quiero ver un indicio de su creciente dominio de la expresión cinematográfica en el hecho de que sus primeros cuatro «westerns» con dicho intérprete durasen tan sólo 77 minutos y los tres últimos, que son los que narran historias más complejas, necesitasen menos tiempo de proyección todavía (69 minutos Westbound y tan sólo 73 Ride Lonesome como Comanche Station).

Miguel Marías

Revista “Dirigido por” nº 72, abril-1980

[insane-control-room]

The Sketch

Chapter two, segment five

Previous

Full chapter on Ao3 here

Running from your problems never works if you walk right back into them.

Johan relaxed with a cup of tea, petting Willy’s dog, Airgead. 

“How do we know each other, Joey?” Willy asked, holding onto Shawn’s hand. The irishman had a black eye but a toothy grin. Wally nodded to his brother’s question. “I know you, I know I do, but… how? How do we know each other?”

“It’s… it’s a long story,” Joey sighed, trying not to drown in his thoughts. “You know how… how I um. Messed up, very b-badly?”

“An understatement, to say the least,” Wally laughed. “I died!”

“At least he wasn’t the one who killed you,” Shawn snarked, tapping the back of Joey’s head. “I’ll never forget how that felt. Yeesh.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Joey mumbled sheepishly. “I wasn’t okay….”

“We all know that,” Wally snorted. “Never really were, were you, Jo?”

“Probably not,” Johan sighed once more, feeling so alone in a room full of people. He was not much in the mood of being around others anymore. They laughed and chatted, and he wanted nothing more than to sink into the depths of the earth, never seen again, only surrounded by warmth. Airgead’s head plonked onto his lap, and he looked into the young dog’s eyes. Johan patted his head. Someone called his name. “Hm?”

“Go on,” Willy encouraged him, leaning back. “You messed up. Next?”

“Henry fixed it all up, and now we’re here,” Joey answered, and he wished that was the end of that. “Most of us haven’t mentally aged in that time, though, which I n-need to investigate more. It’s like w-we were in a stasis since 1929, and then when we came back, t-time continued on.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Marvin slowly stated, his brain going as fast as it could. “I mean… really would explain why I still feel young even though I should technically be thirty years older.”

“Yeah,” Joey trailed off, biting his lip. “I really was stuck being a teenager for thirty years… not recommended. You end up b-being foolish a-and blind.”

“Good to know,” Tian wryly replied, fiddling with his gauges. “Wasn’t really planning on doing somethin’ like that, you know.”

“I know,” Joey responded, feeling drained. He got up. “Anyone want any more tea? I’m going to get some m-more for myself.”

He left without another word, and sank against the wall of the Franks slash Flynn kitchen, breathing heavily. Gracehopper landed on his knee, trying to bring him some comfort, even a little bit. He gnashed his teeth, trying not to cry out loud, and he quickly rose, hands going to his mouth, and he ran out. He ran out of the house, and ran out of the lavender field it was surrounded by, and ran out of the city’s borders, running until he could hardly hear his thoughts, only the drumming of his feet hitting the ground, his weeping pants, and he ran until the shore of Manhattan Beach, fell to his knees, and screamed as loud as he could, his voice echoing over the ocean.

It was… terrifying… in such a comforting way. That there was something so much bigger and stronger than him, that could destroy him in moments, that he would simply drown away and never be found, discovering things that would never be spoken about just because their discoverer was dying, taking last glorious breaths of ocean water.

His head fell onto his chest, and he shook with silent sobs. The sun was on his back, setting slowly. His eyes rose to see the ocean, and he could see the red sunset reflected within it, and, while Johan was no sailor, he delighted in it. How similar he was to the ocean, that their eyes were one and the same, watery, weeping, unknown deaths hidden deep within their resecess, crying to those that would listen, and so powerfully alone. 

Joey slowly realized where he was with dismay, and begrudgingly got off of the sand, not bothering to brush it off, knowing that it would flake off on his long trek home, pulling his cloak around himself and his mask over his face, to be unfamiliar until home. Home sounded so wonderful. It sounded like Henry. Home, Henry, one and the same, though in two different places, but so similar. Firm like Henry, solid, comfortable, safe, all like him. Joey was lost in these thoughts as he slowly walked, or rather, limped his way back, knowing there were blisters on his feet and sunburn on his ears. His head was low, his eyes drooping. He was tired, but not badly so, the tiredness of ‘This is going to feel wonderful when my head hits the pillow’.

How had he run so far? How long was he running?

Miles?

He did know, and he breathed slowly as he slowly glided down the alleys. 

It was a gentle passing, he alone, he with nothing but the rising stars and moon.

Hours passed, time marked by his foot falls.

One foot in front of the other, some sand by his ankles, but not uncomfortably so, its presence oddly grounding. He walked, and walked. He passed the wharf closer to his studio, and froze, hearing murmuring voices. He made himself relax. It was just some random people. There was no need to be so nervous about everything and anything. The bridge’s wind was chilly, and he shivered, walking onwards. 

Looking out to the water beneath the bridge, he shuddered.

It looked like ink in the dark night, the black sky reflected in deep murky waters. He wondered what it was like beneath the quay, but for a brief moment. Water terrified him, as growing up in the desert, he never learned how to swim, and the rivers and oceans were so vast, dark, and horrifying, he never could bear the thought of learning now. But he leaned against the rail.

It was silent.

A hand clapped onto his mouth, another yanking back his arm, and he shrieked in pain, but it was muffled by the hand. Joey was bent over the rail, his heart pounding. He struggled against the gang that was busily restraining him, tying his feet together to a cement block and his hands behind his back. 

“Fleischer sends his regards,” was hissed in his ear, and he was yanked up by the cinderblock, thrown over the bridge. He screamed as he dropped to the water, and he felt it surge around his body, all encompassing and covering. Joey could vaguely hear above him laughter, and the sound of a car starting and going away. He cursed himself. He should have been more careful.

Panic was the next thing to fill him.

He. Could. Not. Breathe.

Writhing in the water, he looked around in a panic, everything blurry from not only his terrible vision but by the tumultuous waves above him. He felt a bump as the block hit the bottom of the river, and he closed his eyes, and would have wept if he could, but could not, and so, instead of that, he thought harder than ever before to save himself. Never before had he cared more to get away from death, normally finding it a comfort for a tranquil end, but the idea of dying at the hands of water was enough to crush him to minuscule pieces. He opened his eyes once more, calmer. A green glint caught his eye, and he knew it to be a beer bottle, thrown in by some drunkard on a rave or who knows what, he did not care at the time, or ever again. He prayed it was shattered, and that one bit of luck was given to him, that one saving grace. Wriggling over in the current, he managed to spin and grab it after three tries, and he sawed at the ropes binding his wrists, the sharp fracture cutting him in a few places accidentally, definitely getting glass into his fingers. He could feel their nibbling bites driving into his skin, puckering around the shards. Johan finally managed to break free of those ropes, and set to work on his feet, his lungs burning. He needed air, desperately! He hacked out of the ropes, and shot up, and found the surface much farther than he rather believe, and he would have torn off his cloak if he did not have faith in himself. He kicked his way up, higher, and elevating himself in the water, and he stared to the wavering moon as darkness began to cloud his vision, taking it over, water seeping into his fragile lungs. Joey’s hand felt cold, and he burst out of the water, his mask destroyed by the liquid and dripping down his face, his hair clinging to his skull, tangled to no end, but never had he been so alive, every nerve buzzing. He slowly made his way out of the water, coughing, coughing, and then, breathing. In, and out, each breath so painful, so wondrous. He collapsed on the rocks, and… breathed.

He lay on the rocky shore, air seeping out and in, his chest pressed to the cold ground, his wet cloak pressing down on him with a sensation of warmth. When the sun rose, his groggy thoughts began to clear, and with the dawn, it dawned on him that he would be late to work. Johan pushed himself off the stoney earth’s floor, and carefully began walking to the studio. On the way, he threw away the ruined mask and instead pulled his drying hood over his head. 

As he expected, he was late, and everyone stared at him as he trudged into his office. Dot knocked on his door to inform him of his meetings, stared at him, and giggled at his dazed and absentminded appearance. 

“Should I cancel these meetings, then, sir?” she asked with a smile. Johan nodded, resting his head on his desk. “Alright, Mr. Drew. Have a good da- oh, hello Dr. Stein!”

The young frenchwoman scurried away as Henry entered the office, closing the door behind himself, and walked over to Joey. 

“Where were you?” he inquired, befuddlement and some demand in his tone, his hand going to Joey’s arm to give it a grounding squeeze. His brows shot up. “And why are you… uh, moist? Did you shower in your clothes again, Joey?”

“No, I had an impromptu swimming lesson,” Joey replied, his hand going to push Henry’s away, but instead they intertwined. Henry’s thumb absentmindedly ran over the back of Joey’s hand as he looked into his eyes. Joey shifted and swallowed roughly. “....”

“You smell like the river,” Henry observed with concern, eyebrow raising. “The river is dangerous, Joey, everyone knows that. What… you’re lying, please, what happened? Why are you all wet? Were you not paying attention to where you were going?”

“I was, I was,” he insisted, crossing his heart with his spare hand. He took off his pin to check if the photographs within were damaged by the water, and found to his relief, they were not. He pinned it back, and gave the worried Henry a small smile. “I’m fine.”

“Joey.”

“I said I’m fine.”

“I know what you said, and you’re not! Who tried to kill you this time!? Your hands, there’s cuts all over them, Joey, what happened!?”

Johan froze, and his jaw locked.

“Joey,” Henry breathed in sharply, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “You’re going to come home with me, and then, you’re getting out of New York for a bit. You mentioned that your cousin is in California? Go visit her. Please, just… I’ll send one of the Franks to grab tickets for you, go pack your stuff. Just do this for me, okay?”

“Don’t send me away!” Joey pleaded, gripping his desk. “W-what about the toons, th-the workers? I can’t just abandon th-them, they’re m-my, our, studio f-family! Don’t do this, to me, Henry… please, don’t.”

“I have to,” Henry insisted, his blue eyes screwed shut with internal pain. “I’m… I’m scared Johan. I worry for you. So much… I can’t stand the thought of losing you now, not after everything we’ve been through. I’ll take care of the toons, I’ll sign the checks, but Joey, if you’re dead, everything is going to fall apart. Do you understand? Do this for us.”

Joey looked around his office with torn eyes. He wanted to stay, so badly… but Henry was right. They had come so far, and it took so much work. He sighed and sank into his chair.

“Okay,” he whispered, his head lowering. “I’ll go visit Ramona. Fine. Fine! You win.”

“Joey, don’t talk like that,” Henry scolded with a groan. “You’re making it sound like I’m punishing you, but I’m not, I really am not. I promise you, I just want you to be safe. Throw them off your tail, clear the air. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I know,” Johan replied, getting up, grabbing his cane, hobbling towards the elevator. “It doesn’t make it hurt any less, you know. It hurts more.”

“Joey, please, let’s just have a nice dinner after work,” Henry asked, hugging him on the elevator, swaying a little. “It’ll be good. Us an’ Linda, as a family for once, you’re always too busy or I’m at work, can’t we just have this one thing together?”

“I think it would be… nice…” Joey slowly agreed with Henry, his knees lowering and his head burying in Henry’s hair, he inhaling the man’s smell of strawberries. “It would be v-very nice.”

“Mm, that’s the spirit,” Henry encouraged, hugging him a little tighter. “We could have something vegetarian if that suits you.”

“Very much,” Joey admitted with a smile, getting off the stopped lift, his thin hand locked in Henry’s broad one. “What are you thinking of?”

“How much I adore you,” Henry answered without missing a beat. Joey hushed him, blushing, his steps speeding up. Henry grinned, and went on, “How much I’d like to take you to my house for a nice dinner, making sure you eat for once, relaxing on the couch with my arm around you, tight and warm, close and together. But dinner wise, I’m thinking my father’s walnut and endive salad, cause I wanna pull you close endive right in, and then if you grab some eggs from your chickens, darling, vegetarian haggis, my mom’s recipe.”

“You’re disgusting!” Johan laughed, but thought it a wonderful idea anyways. “But… that does sound interesting, honestly… you’re not going to cook it in a sheep’s stomach, are you?”

“No, no I won’t,” Henry chuckled, and patted Johan’s stomach. “I should though, you need to put on some weight.”

“Ew! No, thanks, Henry. No way.”

Johan and Henry packed in silence, though Henry insisted on being the one to pack Joey’s undergarments, making a point of packing an extra pair, grinning and raising an eyebrow as he did so, finding himself tackled under Johan’s thin and bright red frame, the lanky chicano flustered and embarrassed, and they laughed, realizing how absurd they looked. Johan carefully packaged some eggs, grabbing a loaf of honey cake with it. Henry watched him with somber eyes, which Joey caught. Joey smiled at him sadly, walking over and hugging him over the shoulders.

“It’ll be okay, Jo,” Henry assured him.

“I know,” Joey replied, hugging him tightly. “I know.”

“Let’s get back to work,” Henry told him, and so they did.

At the end of the day, they met up in the parking lot, and Henry hopped onto the back of Johan’s motorbike, and off they went, and then they were at Henry’s house. They began cooking together, and Diane dropped Linda off an hour later. She eagerly helped Henry with preparing the haggis as Johan made faces behind Henry’s back, Linda howling in laughter at each of them. Joey adored the girl, she filled his heart with so much joy.

They finished cooking, and they ate the salad together as the other food cooled, Henry and Joey swapping stories and joking, Linda adding in her own anecdotes every so often. They were safe and happy, and together. Johan even praised Henry’s cooking skills, and he pinned it on his excellent parents. They toasted strawberry champagne to Henry’s parent’s good health, and Johan's parent’s poor health, laughing their heads off as they did so. Even Linda joined in, though she was not quite sure as to the purpose of it. Henry suddenly realized that Joey technically was not of age to drink, and Johan immediately spat back that alcohol was entirely illegal anyways. Henry had nothing to say in return, and Johan sipped his drink with a smug fangy grin. 

They sat on the couch after eating, Linda sandwiched between them, Johan reading to her a story as Henry dozed off, his arm over Linda’s shoulders and hand on Joey’s shoulder. Eventually Joey put the gal to sleep, carried her to her room, and then returned to Henry, curling around him on the couch. Henry’s hand ran through his hair. 

“Your hair’s white again,” Henry commented quietly. Johan hummed in acknowledgement. “What happened? Why did you go white so soon?”

“I don’t know,” Joey replied, his eyes closed. “I think that my, uh, powers did it to me. That using them to reset left a permanent mark on me.”

“I think it’s pretty,” Henry softly remarked. Joey went still. “I always did. It’s such a… fascinating thing, your hair. Gorgeous.”

“Yours is also really w-wonderful,” Johan mumbled, blushing. “It always smells like strawberries. I, uh, like it a lot. It’s soft and I love the curls.”

“Your ears are cute,” Henry cooed, scratching behind one of them. Joey gasped, but leaned into the touch anyways, vibrating slightly. “And that’s cute, too. What is it, like, uh, purring? It’s really nice and adorable. So so cute.”

“I’m not adorable!” Joey whined, his blush going deeper into his skin, ears tilting back. Henry grinned, raising an eyebrow, scratching under Joey’s chin, messing with his short (but growing) beard, making Johan sigh and squeak with the ticklish and delightful feeling. “How d-do y-you know me s-so well?”

“Cause I love you,” Henry responded quietly. Joey looked at him with wide red eyes. Henry looked back. “I really do, a lot.”

“I love you, too, Henry,” Joey softly said, smiling. “You’re incredible. And wonderful. I trust you for everything, with everything. I adore you.”

Whatever happened on that couch, Joey did not know for certain, but he knew he felt weightless, and so happy, silently together in domestic tranquility, a sun and an icarus. But this time, his wings remained unsinged, and their binding was not physically enforced, foreheads pressed together and nothing more, but the spiritual sensation of wholeness encompassed them both to the ends of the entirety of the universes, though their own was a construct of their own making, and they built another one within it, just them two, alone together.

“Johan Icarus,” Henry murmured, tasting the name on his tongue, savoring it. “When you’re done visiting your family, come back here, as they’d never think to look here.”

“I’m sure Disney and Fleischer would think to look here, Henry, it’s rather obviou-”

“I meant your family,” Henry continued with a smirk. Joey’s mouth remained open in shock, and Henry’s hand closed it for him, pushing his chin up. “They’d never find us. Not in a million years, not a million resets.”

Joey teared up, and Henry smiled at him softly. 

“I know we’ll make it. No matter how hard it gets, we’re going to get through.”

Henry rocked Johan as he wept into his chest, comforting himself as well as the younger man, and they took solace in each other. Eventually they parted, Johan going to the guest bedroom and Henry to his own room, and called goodnights to each other.

Johan drifted to sleep, and he suddenly registered a small presence in his room. He looked up to see Linda standing in the doorway.

“Uncle Joey? Can I stay in your bed tonight?” she asked him in a loud whisper, tugging on his blanket. He lifted it up and let her crawl inside, then pulled her close and tucked the blanket around her. “Thank you.”

It was all quiet once more.

“I wish I could call you papa Joey,” she mumbled. Johan froze up again. “Cause my Daddy loves… loves you… and I love you, too. I wish he would marry you already.”

“I love you both t-too,” Joey whispered to her, hugging her tiny body. “You’re my little Linda. But… I guess Hen and I aren’t ready for that yet. Heck, we just had our first date!”

“Don’t you have a date in the park every tuesday?” Linda inquired with some wonder. “That’s what Daddy calls them.”

“I, uh, didn’t know that he called them that,” Joey bemusedly replied with a smile in his voice. “It’s sweet, but… hm. I’d call them, uh, informal meetings.”

“They’re dates,” Linda pouted. Joey chuckled, “Okay, okay.”

Joey’s door opened again. Henry slipped in.

“Can I join you?” he questioned them with a smile, and both Linda and Joey scooted to make room for him. “Linda, scooch away for a sec, I need to kiss Joey.”

“No you don’t!” Joey squeaked, turning bright red, shielded by the darkness and his deep inky skin. “You most certainly do not!”

Linda giggled as they bickered, and wiggled into the blanket, lulled to sleep by her parent’s soft and loving voices.

When Linda woke up, Joey and Henry were eating a rushed breakfast, preparing to leave for the train station, and Diane picked Linda up to take her to school. 

At the train station, Joey and Henry kept a gentleman’s distance, though Henry assisted him with his suitcase, making sure his compartment was comfortable enough, double checking his tickets with him, anxious to leave him. Joey shooed him away, and soon, the train took off. Henry waved him off from the platform, and blew him a kiss he made sure to catch.

Joey’s visit to his cousins was uneventful, though he was appalled at the conditions they were in, and made sure to fix them to the best of his ability. He was not sorry to leave them after a week and a half, and eagerly returned home, to Henry.

Though Henry was not smiling when he picked him up from the train station. He handed him a mask, and told him to put it on.

“What? Why?” Joey asked, perplexed. There was a police badge flashed in his face not a minute later. “What the hell is g-going on?”

His questions went unanswered as his hands were placed behind his back, and he was glad he put on his gloves earlier. He flinched as he heard the click of the cuffs behind him, and he felt his breathing pick up speed.

“Calm down, Joey, it will be okay,” Henry assured him, more sounding like he was trying to assure himself. “There’s no proof.”

“For what?!” he demanded as he was led away. “Can someone please tell me what’s happening?!”

“You’re under arrest for the murder of Walter Elias Disney,” he was informed. Behind the mask, his jaw dropped. Weakly, he asked, “Excuse me, what?”

[unchartedstreamingvf]

Uncharted Streaming VF Film Gratuit Complet HD 2022

Uncharted Regarder Film - https://uncharted-vf.blogspot.com/

Nathan Drake et Victor "Sully" Sullivan sont deux aventuriers en quête du plus grand trésor du monde. De plus, ils espèrent trouver des indices qui les mèneront au frère perdu depuis longtemps de Nathan.

L'idée de cape et d'épée est quelque peu tombée en disgrâce à Hollywood. Nous sommes loin de Douglas Fairbanks et Errol Flynn balançant des épées et cela fait des décennies que personne ne se soucie du capitaine Jack Sparrow et des autres anciens de la franchise Pirates des Caraïbes. Mais mon goût personnel de l'aventure a été satisfait récemment par le plus improbable des films - une adaptation de jeu vidéo.

Uncharted – basé sur la franchise Naughty Dog de jeux PlayStation de chasse au trésor – a eu un chemin turbulent et sinueux vers le grand écran. Au moins sept réalisateurs ont été attachés à un moment ou à un autre, le projet étant en cours de développement depuis 2008. Mais en 2020, le cinéaste de Venom Ruben Fleischer s'est engagé à diriger le film pour une sortie en 2021, avec Tom Holland comme le protagoniste Nathan Drake et Mark Wahlberg comme son mentor - le voleur de trésors chevronné Sully. COVID-19 a mis le holà au plan de tournage initial mais, un an plus tard que prévu initialement, le film voit enfin le jour. En ce qui concerne l'intrigue, il n'y a rien ici pour briser le moule. Sully traque Drake pour l'aider à trouver le prix ultime du chasseur de trésors - une réserve de milliards de dollars en or, précédemment recherchée par Ferdinand Magellan. L'homme d'affaires ultra-riche Moncada (Antonio Banderas) est également à la recherche de la prime lucrative, avec le mercenaire mortel Braddock (un brillamment dangereux Tati Gabrielle) prêt à faire son sale boulot.

Alors que trop de films basés sur des jeux vidéo s'enlisent dans des traditions denses et un service de fans encombré, Uncharted est un travail agréablement épuré. Plutôt que d'essayer d'adapter toutes les facettes des histoires des jeux ou de reproduire le sentiment de les jouer – ce que le cinéma ne peut jamais vraiment espérer faire – Fleischer se contente de raconter une histoire d'action-aventure simple et agréable. En fin de compte, cela pourrait bien être le secret pour casser la noix de faire un film de jeu vidéo qui fonctionne réellement.

Bien sûr, il est utile d'avoir l'un des hommes les plus fiables d'Hollywood sur le chapiteau et Tom Holland insuffle une vraie vie à Nathan Drake. Nous le rencontrons pour la première fois en train de charmer une jeune femme avec ses impressionnants talents de vendeur et de barman – avant de lui voler sa montre – et son charisme maintient le film en marche, même s'il fait le trafic d'un CGI légèrement cordé lorsqu'il atteint de grandes séquences d'action dans la finale troisième. Banderas, quant à lui, joue le rôle de l'un de ses méchants généralement agréables et le pilier du cinéma britannique Steven Waddington fait un travail remarquable en tant qu'homme de main écossais aux accents comiques.

Certes, le film ne pourrait jamais être accusé de subtilité, avec l'impétueux Sully de Wahlberg – qui se sent parfois transporté d'une vision différente du matériau (et l'était peut-être) – clairement positionné comme une figure paternelle ersatz pour Chloe Frazer de Nate et Sophia Ali servant comme un de nombreux éléments sous-utilisés apparemment introduits avec un œil sur le potentiel de la franchise.

Uncharted film stream Uncharted films streaming Uncharted regarder film Uncharted megavideo Uncharted regarder film gratuit français Uncharted bande annonce Uncharted movie streaming Uncharted film torrent français Uncharted streaming movies Uncharted regarder film en streaming Uncharted filmz Uncharted film gratuit Uncharted films en streaming français

[lifejustgotawkward]

365 Day Movie Challenge (2019) - #129: His Kind of Woman (1951) - dir. John Farrow (with Richard Fleischer, uncredited)

You would be forgiven for expecting that a film noir starring Robert Mitchum, Jane Russell, Vincent Price, Charles McGraw and Raymond Burr should be a classic since you would be grievously mistaken in your assumption. Foisted upon an unsuspecting public by Howard Hughes, His Kind of Woman contains messy dollops of drama with goofy humor swirled in and topped with an unconvincing romance like a melting sundae of genres.

As in many a noir script, Mitchum plays a man down on luck, Dan Milner. He’s saddled with a gambling addiction, but still essentially a good guy. After a convincing conversation with some gangsters, Dan takes an offer he can’t refuse to pay off his debts. While taking a mysterious trip down to a Mexican resort that is supposed to lead him to untold fortunes, he meets singer Lenore Brent (Russell), who is a love interest yet not a femme fatale. Making matters somewhat complicated, Lenore is already in a relationship with a hammy actor, Mark Cardigan (Vincent Price in an unusually comedic role for this era of his career), whose wife Helen (Marjorie Reynolds) refuses to grant him a divorce. When the hunted criminal at the core of the story, Nick Ferraro (Burr), finally appears at the resort and makes his plans for Dan known - involving some hi-tech face-swapping surgery to allow Nick’s reentry into the US - and the action really kicks off.

I didn’t mind His Kind of Woman exactly, but I also find it bland in most regards and poorly assembled. This is probably due to the fact that nearly all of original director John Farrow’s material was scrapped in favor of reshoots by Richard Fleischer, done at Howard Hughes’ request (and resulting in the film’s wildly maxed-out budget). Robert Mitchum and Jane Russell’s characters have the bare minimum of development and disappointingly little chemistry. True, it’s enjoyable watching Vincent Price play a combination of Laurence Olivier and Errol Flynn, incorporating grandiose swashbuckler skills to aid the protagonists in their crusade against the baddies, but it’s hardly a revelation that RKO had a box office bomb on their hands with this flick.

[fencemike]

RT @AriFleischer: Anyone want to bet that David Muir doesn’t ask Biden about invoking the Logan Act against Michael Flynn?

Anyone want to bet that David Muir doesn’t ask Biden about invoking the Logan Act against Michael Flynn?

— Ari Fleischer (@AriFleischer) August 24, 2020

via Twitter https://twitter.com/MookieGallagher August 23, 2020 at 11:05PM

[mattgriffo]

People coming together to make a music video to lift us up. Download the track at this link: https://ift.tt/3d5YrKG Website: mattgriffo.com mailing list: https://ift.tt/2Itjc61 PATREON: https://ift.tt/2f3wXaV iTUNES/APPLE MUSIC: https://ift.tt/2tlz30L Social Media Links SPOTIFY: https://ift.tt/2tV0VpE INSTAGRAM: https://ift.tt/2tlPTfU TWITTER: https://twitter.com/mattgriffo FACEBOOK: https://ift.tt/2tUXhw5 ITUNES: https://ift.tt/2tlz30L This track will eventually be available on Spotify and all other streaming platforms, for now, you can download the mp3 from this page. I've got a release coming up for may for a song called " I Don't Know What Day It Is Anymore". I'll be posting a video soon of the submitted videos I couldn't fit into the music video. They are so great. RECORDED TRACK Piano, Lead Vocal, Ukulele, MIDI Drum Programming, Mixing - Matt Griffo Cello - Leyla I. Royale Cello - Marilynn Eguchi Tumpets - Ivan Pyzow Trombone - George Bartle Backup Vocals - Brandon Pfieffer & Homeboy Beautiful People in the video in this order: Leyla I. Royale - in black on the left only her body Matt Griffo - sitting on the train Marilynn Eguchi - Sitting on the CTA Train Holly Souchack - Sitting In Chair Teri Jo Rask - With Bottle of Wine Leyla I. Royale - playing cello Rosie Roche - Putting on lipstick Abby Vatterott & Michael Jordan - in bed Brandon Pfeiffer - on stairs Asgeir Døhl Dybvig - sassy living room shot Joel Wiersema - Playing Guitar Alex Frogge - on couch texting George Bartle - Playing Trombone Ryan Flynn - dancing in suit in LA Liz Chidester - dancing Kai Smythe - dancing with vest on Brad French - with his lion cat Brandon Pfeiffer's partner - on the floor reading Chris Barker & Kristen Barker - working out with their dogs Laura Coppinger - Roller Skating Andrea Mattson - dancing in studio in New Orleans Hannah K Watson - playing violin Patreon Patrons of Matt Griffo: Anne Zimmerman Chicago Cameraslinger David Kazanow Dotti Moscati Emily Fleischer Emily Wilson Eric Ray Ivan Pyzow JaDiah James T Griffo Jason Lord Jeff Koch Jeff Murray Jerf Jim Prov JT Julia Farmer Justin Brown Kesley Waughon Kim Rodger Krista Zimmerman Liz and The Lovelies Mandy Megan Rhyme Michael Greenberg Moe Macpherson Paige Scott Rachel Damon Robert Freese Sherry Griffo Tamale Rocks Victoria Vox by Matt Griffo

[coolsandy8800]

Ari Fleischer: Trump will tarnish Justice Department if he comments on Roger Stone case again - Fox News

Ari Fleischer: Trump will tarnish Justice Department if he comments on Roger Stone case again – Fox News

Ari Fleischer: Trump will tarnish Justice Department if he comments on Roger Stone case again  Fox News

Barr privately ordered re-examination of Michael Flynn’s case, US officials say  CNN

Barr fires warning shot at Trump in new interview  CBS This Morning

Why Is William Barr Really Criticizing Donald Trump?  The New Yorker

Editorial: Attorney General William Barr’s declaration of independence…

[jon-darling]

Now that Mueller says there was no collusion, it is time to scrutinize the Obama Administration. They spied on a US campaign, wiretapped Americans, bit on the dossier and unmasked Flynn. What did Barack Obama know and what and when did he authorize it?

— Ari Fleischer (@AriFleischer) March 24, 2019

[douglasacogan]

"Conservatives urge Trump to grant pardons in Russia probe"

The title of this post is the headline of this lengthy new Politico article.  Here are excerpts:

After months of criticizing special counsel Robert Mueller’s Russia probe, President Donald Trump’s supporters are issuing increasingly bold calls for presidential pardons to limit the investigation’s impact.  “I think he should be pardoning anybody who’s been indicted and make it clear that anybody else who gets indicted would be pardoned immediately,” said Frederick Fleitz, a former CIA analyst and senior vice president at the conservative Center for Security Policy.

The pleas for mercy mainly extend to the four former Trump aides who have already been swept up in the Russia probe: former campaign manager Paul Manafort, former deputy campaign manager Rick Gates, former national security adviser Michael Flynn and former campaign foreign policy adviser George Papadopoulos.  But they don’t stop there.

“It’s kind of cruel what’s going on right now and the president should put these defendants out of their misery,” said Larry Klayman, a conservative legal activist. “I think he should pardon everybody — and pardon himself.”

Klayman and Fleitz spoke before Mueller indicted thirteen Russian nationals on Friday for staging an elaborate 2016 election interference operation in the United States. Democratic leaders said the hard evidence of Russian meddling underscores the importance of letting Mueller’s investigation run its course....

Trump’s lawyers and aides insist it’s premature to discuss even the possibility of pardons. “There have been no pardon discussions at the White House,” Ty Cobb, the White House attorney who leads the president’s official response to the Russia investigation, told POLITICO on Friday just hours before Mueller’s latest indictment was released.

After the Washington Post reported in July that Trump had tasked his aides with researching his pardon powers, Trump dismissed the story — while also making clear his view of the law. “While all agree the U. S. President has the complete power to pardon, why think of that when only crime so far is LEAKS against us. FAKE NEWS,” Trump tweeted....

Trump has issued one pardon since taking office, to the controversial Arizona Sheriff Joe Arpaio, who was facing criminal contempt of court charges for defying a court order to stop profiling Latinos.  That August action, in the face of strong political opposition, makes some conservatives think that Trump would be willing to defy his critics again. “He did it for Sheriff Joe, so I’m thinking he would do it for other circumstances as well,” [Tom] Fitton said.

There has been little sign of Congressional Republican support for the idea of pardons. In the days after Flynn pleaded guilty, South Carolina Senators Lindsey Graham and Tim Scott both urged Trump not to pardon Flynn. Scott said it is important to have accountability and “a process that is clear and transparent.”

Pardons would also come at a high political cost, former George W. Bush White House spokesman Ari Fleischer said. “It’d just raise even more questions about Donald Trump if he pardons those closest to him because people will think he’s trying to protect himself.”

“You should let justice run its course,” he added.

Even some conservatives who support pardons in principle are wary of the severe political backlash they are certain to trigger.  Mike Cernovich, a conservative activist who has been affiliated with the alt-right but rejects that label, said he believes the moment for pardons has passed and that Trump needs to wait until after the November mid-term elections.  “If the Democrats take over, pardon everyone,” Cernovich said.  “They’re coming for you anyway.  They have their nuke with impeachment. You have your nuke with pardons.  And then settle in for an interesting two years.”

from RSSMix.com Mix ID 8247011 http://sentencing.typepad.com/sentencing_law_and_policy/2018/02/conservatives-urge-trump-to-grant-pardons-in-russia-probe.html via http://www.rssmix.com/

[insane-control-room]

The Sketch

Chapter two, segment four

Previous - Next

Full chapter on Ao3 here

Sometimes you just need some time in the trash.

“I hate this, I despise this, this is a curse from the depths of hell,” Johan grumbled, tilting his head back to try to stop the trickle of blood from his nose. Robbie rolled his eyes and closed the lid of the trash can. “This is awful! You’re all p-prematurely fired!”

“Good luck with that,” Sean laughed, patting the garbage can. A growl emanated from it. “Ramirez, you can’t lie, you love us!”

“Screw you!” was Joey’s blunt reply, the tall man cramped from being stuffed into what felt like an actual box! A box, but it was a garbage bin! He felt humiliated, though he knew it was only to save his life, and knew no one was judging, after all, it was their idea. He muttered a few choice curses in spanish, throwing in some german ones before Henrik kicked the garbage to signal him to shut his mouth or pick a different language to soil. “Why am I in here, anyways? Why c-can’t I just, you know, leave?”

“Fleischer is on his way,” Shawn informed him. “We gotta sneak you out. There are spies all over the place. Dogs, too.”

“D-dogs?” Johan felt his mouth go dry with fear. “Wh-what kind of dogs?”

“Trained to catch outsiders,” Chase answered, peering out of the window. “We gotta fake some pictures now, lets go, dark room, make it look like the development went weird.”

‘Got it,’ Jameson signed to him, tipping his cap and slipping away to do that.

“Now, we gotta split, Johan,” Shawn said. Joey mumbled in reply. “We’ll see you in a few days - gotta throw ‘em off your tail. Maybe head out of town for a bit, hide on the outskirts of Chicago or someplace like that.”

“Mm,” Johan managed to answer, his stomach turning. He curled up as much as he could in the trash can, and felt strangely, hilariously at home, though in an absurd and joking manner. It was not the first time he had been in a garbage bin, and it certainly was by far more comfortable than the previous times. “How long do I have to wait in-n here?”

“Until you get out of the building, so not too much,” Shawn answered. Johan could hear shuffling footsteps. “We’re gonna get to work, you just stay put for now.”

“Ok bye,” Joey grumbled, trying to get some rest, gingerly pressing on the skin about his eye, wincing and knowing there would be a big bruise there in the morning. Good thing he wore a mask, so no one would notice it. Hopefully. Norman probably would. The door clicked shut, and silence reigned. He tried to relax, and his eyes drifted shut, his aching limbs going numb in the small space of the trash bin. Who would be cleaning this up? Clearly someone the Flynns trusted, so Joey tried to put his trust in their hands, despite his anxiety over it. He breathed in and out, keeping quiet and calm. Footsteps approached, booted and stocky. Johan’s ears tilted, and he could identify one of the Frank’s twins, undoubtedly of the two this being Willy. A smile broke across his lips. Where there is smoke, there is fire, and in this case, where there is Shawn, there is Willy. Joey heard Willy pick up the note on the trash can, the one saying the bag was torn from glass, so the can should be taken out in full. Willy sighed, and set himself to work, lifting the garbage with ease. Joey could feel his heartbeat, mute to anyone but him. He felt… calm. Soon, Joey could feel the cool night air, and the garbage can was placed onto the pavement. Johan stuck his head out. “Thanks, Wilbur.”

“JOHAN!” Willy’s hand flew to his chest, and he took in gasping breaths. “You scared the shit outta me! What… what are you doing in there?”

“Escaping,” Joey replied, trying to get up, his numb legs merely allowing him to knock over the can. He just lay on the bottom. “Oof.”

“Um. Do you want me to give you a lift?” Willy offered, furrowing his brow. “I just got an hour more of work to do.”

“No, I gotta bolt,” Joey wriggled out of the trash can, getting to his feet. “Let’s have some tea together on Monday? Like, three pm?”

“Oh, okay,” Willy replied, writing it on a scrapy notebook before turning to go. “See you then. Hey, watch out for the dogs, they’re… not fun to deal with.”

Joey shivered and paled, his trembling hand gravitating to his leg, “Thanks for the t-tip off….”

Willy gave him a two fingered salute before vanishing back into the looming building.

A bark caught Johan’s attention, and he leapt to his feet.

He trembled, trying to slip away from the heavily guarded facility.

Another bark, and he gasped, stilling. It was too close, too close.

He began to run, bolting as fast as he could, feet making nearly no sound as he dashed across the pavement. A bark, and he spun around to force the dog leaping at him away.

He screamed, seeing sharp teeth glinting, brown eyes looking pure red, and

He was on the Ramirez Estate and there was Paul’s laughter

He slammed against the ground, batting away the canine, and he scrambled away as fast as he could, jumping onto the fence, and climbing up as fast as he could, shaking from the barks and growls. A phantom pain grew in his leg, and he dropped down to the other side of the fence, limping away, panting.

Joey knew he had to get away.

A bark right in front of him made him jump into a tree, a different dog before him.

“G-good dog,” he stuttered, trying to escape the animal. Both with wide eyes. Johan shakily reached his hand out. “Good g-girl… or boy… just… good dog….”

A gentle licking on his fingers.

He shook, but it faded away.

The dog walked him home, and… it was okay.

[benrleeusa]

"Conservatives urge Trump to grant pardons in Russia probe"

The title of this post is the headline of this lengthy new Politico article.  Here are excerpts:

After months of criticizing special counsel Robert Mueller’s Russia probe, President Donald Trump’s supporters are issuing increasingly bold calls for presidential pardons to limit the investigation’s impact.  “I think he should be pardoning anybody who’s been indicted and make it clear that anybody else who gets indicted would be pardoned immediately,” said Frederick Fleitz, a former CIA analyst and senior vice president at the conservative Center for Security Policy.

The pleas for mercy mainly extend to the four former Trump aides who have already been swept up in the Russia probe: former campaign manager Paul Manafort, former deputy campaign manager Rick Gates, former national security adviser Michael Flynn and former campaign foreign policy adviser George Papadopoulos.  But they don’t stop there.

“It’s kind of cruel what’s going on right now and the president should put these defendants out of their misery,” said Larry Klayman, a conservative legal activist. “I think he should pardon everybody — and pardon himself.”

Klayman and Fleitz spoke before Mueller indicted thirteen Russian nationals on Friday for staging an elaborate 2016 election interference operation in the United States. Democratic leaders said the hard evidence of Russian meddling underscores the importance of letting Mueller’s investigation run its course....

Trump’s lawyers and aides insist it’s premature to discuss even the possibility of pardons. “There have been no pardon discussions at the White House,” Ty Cobb, the White House attorney who leads the president’s official response to the Russia investigation, told POLITICO on Friday just hours before Mueller’s latest indictment was released.

After the Washington Post reported in July that Trump had tasked his aides with researching his pardon powers, Trump dismissed the story — while also making clear his view of the law. “While all agree the U. S. President has the complete power to pardon, why think of that when only crime so far is LEAKS against us. FAKE NEWS,” Trump tweeted....

Trump has issued one pardon since taking office, to the controversial Arizona Sheriff Joe Arpaio, who was facing criminal contempt of court charges for defying a court order to stop profiling Latinos.  That August action, in the face of strong political opposition, makes some conservatives think that Trump would be willing to defy his critics again. “He did it for Sheriff Joe, so I’m thinking he would do it for other circumstances as well,” [Tom] Fitton said.

There has been little sign of Congressional Republican support for the idea of pardons. In the days after Flynn pleaded guilty, South Carolina Senators Lindsey Graham and Tim Scott both urged Trump not to pardon Flynn. Scott said it is important to have accountability and “a process that is clear and transparent.”

Pardons would also come at a high political cost, former George W. Bush White House spokesman Ari Fleischer said. “It’d just raise even more questions about Donald Trump if he pardons those closest to him because people will think he’s trying to protect himself.”

“You should let justice run its course,” he added.

Even some conservatives who support pardons in principle are wary of the severe political backlash they are certain to trigger.  Mike Cernovich, a conservative activist who has been affiliated with the alt-right but rejects that label, said he believes the moment for pardons has passed and that Trump needs to wait until after the November mid-term elections.  “If the Democrats take over, pardon everyone,” Cernovich said.  “They’re coming for you anyway.  They have their nuke with impeachment. You have your nuke with pardons.  And then settle in for an interesting two years.”

[mystlnewsonline]

New Post has been published on https://www.stl.news/can-trump-stick-script-beyond-state-union/76478/

Can Trump stick to a script beyond the State of the Union?

WASHINGTON /January 28, 2018 (AP)(STL.News) — No natural orator, President Donald Trump has nonetheless shown at times that he can deliver a powerful speech that effectively outlines his vision, strikes an emotional chord and moves commentators to declare that he, at last, looks presidential. And then the teleprompter gets turned off.

Time and again, Trump has followed up a well-received, stuck-to-the-script address with moments of wild indiscipline, quickly losing any momentum in a controversy of his own making. His first State of the Union address on Tuesday will be the biggest test yet of his ability to not just deliver a stately speech but also to then stay on track as the White House rolls out policies building on it.

“He has little message discipline,” said Ari Fleischer, former press secretary for President George W. Bush. “Virtually every time he moves the ball far down the field, he seems to derail himself with a tweet days later instead of building on the momentum.”

The State of the Union is a big set piece for any president, a chance to showcase the accomplishments of the past year while setting the tone for the next one. Every word is meticulously vetted, every presidential guest is carefully chosen and each moment is painstakingly rehearsed. For Trump, dogged by low poll numbers and the persistent Russia probe, the speech carries particular importance.

“It’s one of the few events presidents conduct in which 30 to 40 million or more Americans are watching,” Fleischer said. “There is hardly another moment of presidential exposure as big as this one, and it’s one when the president and his staff have all the control. They are not reacting to events. They are controlling them, and they need to deliver.”

Last Feb. 27, Trump indeed delivered when he gave his first address to a joint session of Congress. The speech came amid a period of crisis for the young administration — national security adviser Michael Flynn had been dismissed days earlier — and amid questions about whether Trump had the ability and temperament to lead the nation.

Surprising critics, he sounded a rousing call for unity, declaring that it was time to end an era of “pure unadulterated division” in the wake of a bruising campaign and a tumultuous start to his presidency.

“The time for small thinking is over,” Trump said. “The time for trivial fights is behind us. We just need the courage to share the dreams that fill our hearts. The bravery to express the hopes that stir our souls. And the confidence to turn those hopes and those dreams into action.”

The speech, which also featured an emotional standing ovation for the widow of a slain Navy SEAL, drew raves from Republicans and grudging respect from many Democrats while prompting a number of observers to wonder if Trump had found his footing and was ready to usher in a new, more responsible chapter of his presidency.

That lasted less than a week.

On March 4, Trump typed out a series of tweets in which he accused President Barack Obama of authorizing a wiretap of Trump Tower, an unsubstantiated claim that Trump punctuated with the assertion that his predecessor was a “bad (or sick) guy!” The resulting furor derailed any momentum Trump had gotten from the speech and put the West Wing back on the defensive.

It’s far from the only moment when Trump has squandered a brief era of good feelings. In June, he delivered a somber address to the nation after the shooting at a congressional baseball practice, and then two days later, he took to Twitter to attack his own Justice Department while declaring the Russia probe a “witch hunt.”

And the day after he delivered a thunderous address as he accepted his party’s nomination for president at the 2016 Republican National Convention, Trump turned what was supposed to be a brief thank you to volunteers into a score-settling screed, relitigating the conspiracy theory that his rival Ted Cruz’s father had been involved in the assassination of President John F. Kennedy.

The White House has spent weeks crafting the State of the Union speech, seeking input from Cabinet heads and agency leaders. Led by policy adviser Stephen Miller and staff secretary Rob Porter, the speech has gone through a number of drafts that have circulated throughout the West Wing, and the president has added input with handwritten notes.

Trump is expected to highlight immigration and national security issues, outline his hopes for new trade deals and reveal some of his long-awaited infrastructure plans. He then could, as his predecessors did, spend some time traveling the country in support of those ideas.

Odds are that Trump sticks to the script for at least one night. All bets are off after that.

___

By JONATHAN LEMIRE,by Associated Press – published on STL.News by St. Louis Media, LLC (Z.S)

____

[backroombuzz]

Adam Schiff Ratted Out As A CNN Leaker

Adam Schiff Ratted Out As A CNN Leaker

We always knew Adam Schiff (D-CA) was a slimy weasel, Now his people on Capital Hill are calling the ranking member of the House Intelligence Committee out as one of the leaker's. Adam Schiff was seen leaving the room many times during Donald Trump Jr.’s 8-hour closed-door testimony to the House Intelligence Committee. His fellow members knew he either had a yeast infection of he was leaking the testimony. Once CNN started publishing tidbits of information from the ongoing hearing they knew Schiff was healthy... At least his body was, they already knew his mind was seriously sick. Dan Scavino is President Trump’s assistant and director of social media. He took a swipe at “Leaker Adam Schiff” Tuesday night in a viral tweet. It started when former White House Press Secretary Ari Fleischer tweeted out: Just a reminder that CNN, CBS and MSNBC have yet to explain how numerous “independent” sources all misread the date on an email in calls to each of those three outlets. No explanation. None. — Ari Fleischer (@AriFleischer) December 18, 2017 Fleischer was referencing the botched CNN story about Wikileaks sending Donald Trump Jr. an encryption key to access hacked DNC emails. Their ‘sources’ got the dates wrong; the encryption key had already been available to the public for days by the time Don Jr. was sent the email. Click Here To Read Our Story (Opens New Window) In Response Dan Scavino sent a tweet that called out Adam Schiff as a leaker Perhaps they are waiting to hear back from Leaker Schiff? https://t.co/l93mkzMuML — Dan Scavino Jr. (@DanScavino) December 20, 2017 Then Of Course, that started the ball rolling pic.twitter.com/Tdo2NxZe3T — Claudio Hernandez (@Claudio_Hndz) December 20, 2017 pic.twitter.com/Y1BdkOXL5o — C Bracken (@colemanbracken) December 20, 2017 👍😂 #TruthBomb #TickTock @RepAdamSchiff pic.twitter.com/wlOHJnTOLN — 🙏Warrior🇺🇸Watchman🙏 ن (@_Blessed07_) December 20, 2017 pic.twitter.com/sbh5QyvNt5 — basboon (@basboon007) December 20, 2017 pic.twitter.com/9hmypHWh4a — #TRUMPARMY 🇺🇸 © (@Cleverfun66) December 20, 2017 pic.twitter.com/yPCVXghYUk — Tracy 🇺🇸👠🚂 (@tracy_texas6) December 20, 2017 pic.twitter.com/BJF0yC0EF8 — MnNewzBlog (@MnNewz) December 20, 2017 pic.twitter.com/FMlTrMIjzE — Clint McDonald (@ClintMcDonald1) December 20, 2017 pic.twitter.com/R8rKM1Jrra — Brian Flynn ++ (@BrianFl79510031) December 20, 2017 Read the full article

[foursproutwealth-blog]

The Media's Reign Of Error Exposed

New Post has been published on http://foursprout.com/wealth/the-medias-reign-of-error-exposed/

The Media's Reign Of Error Exposed

Authored by Mark Hemingway via WeeklyStandard.com,

Covering the Trump presidency has not always been the media’s finest hour, but even grading on that curve, the month of December has brought astonishing screwups.

Professor and venerable political observer Walter Russell Mead tweeted on December 8, “I remember Watergate pretty well, and I don’t remember anything like this level of journalistic carelessness back then. The constant stream of ‘bombshells’ that turn into duds is doing much more to damage the media than anything Trump could manage.”

On December 1, ABC News correspondent Brian Ross went on air and made a remarkable claim. For months, the media have been furiously trying to prove collusion between the Trump campaign and the Russian government. Ross reported that former national security adviser Michael Flynn, who had just pleaded guilty to lying to the FBI, was prepared to testify that President Trump had instructed him to contact Russian officials before the 2016 election, while Trump was still a candidate. If true, it would have been a gamechanger. But Ross’s claim was inaccurate. Flynn’s documented attempts to contact the Russians came after Trump was president-elect, allegedly trying to lay diplomatic groundwork for the new administration. Ross was suspended by ABC for four weeks without pay for the error.

  Later that same weekend, the New York Times ran a story about Trump transition official K. T. McFarland, charging that she had lied to congressional investigators about knowledge of the Trump transition team’s contacts with Russia. The article went through four headline changes and extensive edits after it was first published, substantially softening and backing away from claims made in the original version. The first headline made a definitive claim: “McFarland Contradicted Herself on Russia Contacts, Congressional Testimony Shows.” The headline now reads “Former Aide’s Testimony on Russia Is Questioned.” The website Newsdiffs, which tracks edits of articles after publication, shows nearly the entire body of the article was rewritten. (The Times website makes no mention of the changes.)

  Still in that first weekend of December, Senator Orrin Hatch criticized the excesses of federal welfare programs, saying, “I have a rough time wanting to spend billions and billions and trillions of dollars to help people who won’t help themselves.” The quote was taken wildly out of context. MSNBC’s Joe Scarborough as well as journalists from Mic, Newsweek, and the Los Angeles Times reported that Hatch was directly criticizing the Children’s Health Insurance Program, with some suggesting Hatch thought children should be put to work to pay for subsidized health care. Not only was Hatch not criticizing the CHIP program, he cowrote the recent bill to extend its funding.

  On December 5, Reuters and Bloomberg reported that special counsel Robert Mueller had subpoenaed Deutsche Bank account records of President Trump and family members, possibly related to business done in Russia. The report was later corrected to say Mueller was subpoenaing “people or entities close to Mr. Trump.”

  Then on December 8, another Russia bombshell turned into a dud. CNN’s Manu Raju and Jeremy Herb reported Donald Trump Jr. had been sent an email on September 4, 2016, with a decryption key to a WikiLeaks trove of hacked emails from Clinton confidant and Democratic operative John Podesta—that is, before the hacked emails were made public. (WikiLeaks is widely surmised to act as a front for Russian intelligence.) MSNBC and CBS quickly claimed to have confirmed CNN’s scoop. Within hours, though, CNN’s report was discredited. The email was sent on September 14, after the hacked Podesta emails had been made publicly available. CNN later admitted it never saw the email it was reporting the contents of.

This is just eight days’ worth of blundering.

Since October of last year, when Franklin Foer at Slate filed an erroneous report on a computer server in Trump Tower communicating with a Russian bank, there have been an unprecedented number of media faceplants, most of them directly related to the Russia-collusion theory.

The errors always run in the same direction—they report or imply that the Trump campaign was in league with Moscow.

For a politicized and overwhelmingly liberal press corps, the wish that this story be true is obviously the father to the errors. Just as obviously, there are precedents for such high-profile embarrassments in the past. (Remember Dan Rather’s “scoop” on George W. Bush’s National Guard service?) But flawed reporting in the Trump era is becoming more the norm than the exception, suggesting the media have become far too willing to abandon some pretty basic journalistic standards.

Editors at top news organizations once treated anonymous sourcing as a necessary evil, a tool to be used sparingly. Now anonymous sources dominate Trump coverage.

It’s not just a problem for readers, who should rightly be skeptical of information someone isn’t willing to vouch for by name. It’s a problem for reporters, too, because anonymous sources are less likely to be cautious and diligent in providing information. According to CNN, the sources behind the busted report on Trump Jr.’s contact with WikiLeaks didn’t intend to deceive and had been reliable in the past. Maybe so, but given the network’s repeated errors it’s difficult to just take CNN’s word for it.

But it’s one thing to use anonymous sources; it’s quite another to be entirely trusting of them. CNN decided to report the contents of an email to Donald Trump Jr. based only on the say-so of two anonymous sources and without seeing the emails. “I remember when I was [a staffer] on the Ways and Means committee and I would try and give reporters stories, and I remember the Wall Street Journal demanded to see a document,” former Bush administration press secretary Ari Fleischer tells The Weekly Standard. “They wouldn’t take it from me if I didn’t give them the document, and I thought, ‘Good for them!’ ”

What makes the botched story of the WikiLeaks email more troubling is how quickly MSNBC and CBS ran with CNN’s scoop. “It’s hard to imagine how independent people could repeatedly misread a date on an email and do so for three different networks,” says Fleischer. “Whose eyesight is that bad?”

This points to an additional problem with the sourcing on these unfounded reports. The only way three networks could claim to have verified the same specious story is if they were all relying on the very same sources. Many of the flawed Trump reports appear to be sourced from a very narrow circle of people, who no doubt share partisan motivations or personal animus.

Certainly, it appears a number of recent spurious stories have originated as leaks from Democrats on the House Intelligence Committee. In Raju and Herb’s report, they revealed that Trump Jr. had been asked about the WikiLeaks email in closed-door testimony before the committee. After CNN’s scoop imploded, a spokesman for Adam Schiff, the ranking Democrat on the committee, issued a classic non-denial denial, telling Politico “that neither he nor his staff leaked any ‘non-public information’ ” about Donald Trump Jr.’s testimony.

Meanwhile, the Russia investigation has been very good for raising Schiff’s profile. A December 13 press release from the Republican National Committee notes the congressman has at that point spent 20 hours, 44 minutes, and 49 seconds on television since Trump took office, talking mostly about the investigation (pity the low-level staffer who must have had to do the research for that release). During that time, Schiff has always declined to discuss the particulars of the intel committee’s work. Nonetheless, consideration of his sensitive position hasn’t stopped him from offering all manner of innuendo to national TV audiences about evidence suggesting Russia collusion.

For their part, the media don’t seem to be coming to grips with the damage they’re doing to their own credibility. CNN, which calls itself “the most trusted name in news,” didn’t retract their WikiLeaks report but rewrote it in such a way as to render the story meaningless. They also came to the defense of Raju and Herb, saying the reporters acted in accordance with the network’s editorial policies. And of course they didn’t out their sources—the ultimate punishment news organizations can mete out to anonymous tipsters who steer them wrong.

It understandably infuriates the media that President Trump remains unwilling to own up to his own glaring errors and untruths, while news organizations run correction after correction. And it also understandably upsets the media to watch the president actively attack and seek to undermine their work, which remains vital to ensuring accountability in American governance.

What they haven’t grasped is how perversely helpful to him they are being: On a very basic level, President Trump’s repeated salvos against “fake news” have resonance because, well, there does indeed appear to be a lot of fake news.

“There is nothing wrong with holding powerful people accountable. There’s nothing wrong with investigating whether or not collusion took place. But there’s a lot wrong when because you want to believe in the story so much you suspend skepticism,” says Fleischer.

  “You let your guard down. You abandon the normal filters that protect journalistic integrity. And you fail to also hold to account powerful leakers, or powerful members of Congress who themselves have an anti-Trump agenda. It’s called putting your thumb on the scale.”

[foursprout-blog]

The Media's Reign Of Error Exposed

New Post has been published on http://foursprout.com/wealth/the-medias-reign-of-error-exposed/

The Media's Reign Of Error Exposed

Authored by Mark Hemingway via WeeklyStandard.com,

Covering the Trump presidency has not always been the media’s finest hour, but even grading on that curve, the month of December has brought astonishing screwups.

Professor and venerable political observer Walter Russell Mead tweeted on December 8, “I remember Watergate pretty well, and I don’t remember anything like this level of journalistic carelessness back then. The constant stream of ‘bombshells’ that turn into duds is doing much more to damage the media than anything Trump could manage.”

On December 1, ABC News correspondent Brian Ross went on air and made a remarkable claim. For months, the media have been furiously trying to prove collusion between the Trump campaign and the Russian government. Ross reported that former national security adviser Michael Flynn, who had just pleaded guilty to lying to the FBI, was prepared to testify that President Trump had instructed him to contact Russian officials before the 2016 election, while Trump was still a candidate. If true, it would have been a gamechanger. But Ross’s claim was inaccurate. Flynn’s documented attempts to contact the Russians came after Trump was president-elect, allegedly trying to lay diplomatic groundwork for the new administration. Ross was suspended by ABC for four weeks without pay for the error.

  Later that same weekend, the New York Times ran a story about Trump transition official K. T. McFarland, charging that she had lied to congressional investigators about knowledge of the Trump transition team’s contacts with Russia. The article went through four headline changes and extensive edits after it was first published, substantially softening and backing away from claims made in the original version. The first headline made a definitive claim: “McFarland Contradicted Herself on Russia Contacts, Congressional Testimony Shows.” The headline now reads “Former Aide’s Testimony on Russia Is Questioned.” The website Newsdiffs, which tracks edits of articles after publication, shows nearly the entire body of the article was rewritten. (The Times website makes no mention of the changes.)

  Still in that first weekend of December, Senator Orrin Hatch criticized the excesses of federal welfare programs, saying, “I have a rough time wanting to spend billions and billions and trillions of dollars to help people who won’t help themselves.” The quote was taken wildly out of context. MSNBC’s Joe Scarborough as well as journalists from Mic, Newsweek, and the Los Angeles Times reported that Hatch was directly criticizing the Children’s Health Insurance Program, with some suggesting Hatch thought children should be put to work to pay for subsidized health care. Not only was Hatch not criticizing the CHIP program, he cowrote the recent bill to extend its funding.

  On December 5, Reuters and Bloomberg reported that special counsel Robert Mueller had subpoenaed Deutsche Bank account records of President Trump and family members, possibly related to business done in Russia. The report was later corrected to say Mueller was subpoenaing “people or entities close to Mr. Trump.”

  Then on December 8, another Russia bombshell turned into a dud. CNN’s Manu Raju and Jeremy Herb reported Donald Trump Jr. had been sent an email on September 4, 2016, with a decryption key to a WikiLeaks trove of hacked emails from Clinton confidant and Democratic operative John Podesta—that is, before the hacked emails were made public. (WikiLeaks is widely surmised to act as a front for Russian intelligence.) MSNBC and CBS quickly claimed to have confirmed CNN’s scoop. Within hours, though, CNN’s report was discredited. The email was sent on September 14, after the hacked Podesta emails had been made publicly available. CNN later admitted it never saw the email it was reporting the contents of.

This is just eight days’ worth of blundering.

Since October of last year, when Franklin Foer at Slate filed an erroneous report on a computer server in Trump Tower communicating with a Russian bank, there have been an unprecedented number of media faceplants, most of them directly related to the Russia-collusion theory.

The errors always run in the same direction—they report or imply that the Trump campaign was in league with Moscow.

For a politicized and overwhelmingly liberal press corps, the wish that this story be true is obviously the father to the errors. Just as obviously, there are precedents for such high-profile embarrassments in the past. (Remember Dan Rather’s “scoop” on George W. Bush’s National Guard service?) But flawed reporting in the Trump era is becoming more the norm than the exception, suggesting the media have become far too willing to abandon some pretty basic journalistic standards.

Editors at top news organizations once treated anonymous sourcing as a necessary evil, a tool to be used sparingly. Now anonymous sources dominate Trump coverage.

It’s not just a problem for readers, who should rightly be skeptical of information someone isn’t willing to vouch for by name. It’s a problem for reporters, too, because anonymous sources are less likely to be cautious and diligent in providing information. According to CNN, the sources behind the busted report on Trump Jr.’s contact with WikiLeaks didn’t intend to deceive and had been reliable in the past. Maybe so, but given the network’s repeated errors it’s difficult to just take CNN’s word for it.

But it’s one thing to use anonymous sources; it’s quite another to be entirely trusting of them. CNN decided to report the contents of an email to Donald Trump Jr. based only on the say-so of two anonymous sources and without seeing the emails. “I remember when I was [a staffer] on the Ways and Means committee and I would try and give reporters stories, and I remember the Wall Street Journal demanded to see a document,” former Bush administration press secretary Ari Fleischer tells The Weekly Standard. “They wouldn’t take it from me if I didn’t give them the document, and I thought, ‘Good for them!’ ”

What makes the botched story of the WikiLeaks email more troubling is how quickly MSNBC and CBS ran with CNN’s scoop. “It’s hard to imagine how independent people could repeatedly misread a date on an email and do so for three different networks,” says Fleischer. “Whose eyesight is that bad?”

This points to an additional problem with the sourcing on these unfounded reports. The only way three networks could claim to have verified the same specious story is if they were all relying on the very same sources. Many of the flawed Trump reports appear to be sourced from a very narrow circle of people, who no doubt share partisan motivations or personal animus.

Certainly, it appears a number of recent spurious stories have originated as leaks from Democrats on the House Intelligence Committee. In Raju and Herb’s report, they revealed that Trump Jr. had been asked about the WikiLeaks email in closed-door testimony before the committee. After CNN’s scoop imploded, a spokesman for Adam Schiff, the ranking Democrat on the committee, issued a classic non-denial denial, telling Politico “that neither he nor his staff leaked any ‘non-public information’ ” about Donald Trump Jr.’s testimony.

Meanwhile, the Russia investigation has been very good for raising Schiff’s profile. A December 13 press release from the Republican National Committee notes the congressman has at that point spent 20 hours, 44 minutes, and 49 seconds on television since Trump took office, talking mostly about the investigation (pity the low-level staffer who must have had to do the research for that release). During that time, Schiff has always declined to discuss the particulars of the intel committee’s work. Nonetheless, consideration of his sensitive position hasn’t stopped him from offering all manner of innuendo to national TV audiences about evidence suggesting Russia collusion.

For their part, the media don’t seem to be coming to grips with the damage they’re doing to their own credibility. CNN, which calls itself “the most trusted name in news,” didn’t retract their WikiLeaks report but rewrote it in such a way as to render the story meaningless. They also came to the defense of Raju and Herb, saying the reporters acted in accordance with the network’s editorial policies. And of course they didn’t out their sources—the ultimate punishment news organizations can mete out to anonymous tipsters who steer them wrong.

It understandably infuriates the media that President Trump remains unwilling to own up to his own glaring errors and untruths, while news organizations run correction after correction. And it also understandably upsets the media to watch the president actively attack and seek to undermine their work, which remains vital to ensuring accountability in American governance.

What they haven’t grasped is how perversely helpful to him they are being: On a very basic level, President Trump’s repeated salvos against “fake news” have resonance because, well, there does indeed appear to be a lot of fake news.

“There is nothing wrong with holding powerful people accountable. There’s nothing wrong with investigating whether or not collusion took place. But there’s a lot wrong when because you want to believe in the story so much you suspend skepticism,” says Fleischer.

  “You let your guard down. You abandon the normal filters that protect journalistic integrity. And you fail to also hold to account powerful leakers, or powerful members of Congress who themselves have an anti-Trump agenda. It’s called putting your thumb on the scale.”

[thedeadshotnetwork]

'A weapon of desperation': Trump loyalists are doubling down on a familiar strategy as the Russia probe reaches a boiling point Thomson Reuters As special counsel Robert Mueller's Russia investigation ramps up, President Donald Trump's allies have doubled down on claims that Mueller's team is biased against him. Right-wing figures latched onto new reports last week that two investigators on Mueller's team expressed views favoring former Democratic presidential nominee Hillary Clinton. FBI veterans refute that characterization, saying agents don't let political views interfere with their work. One former federal prosecutor called the strategy a "weapon of desperation." Special counsel Robert Mueller's investigation into Russia's interference in the 2016 election is ramping up, and President Donald Trump's allies are reaching new heights to discredit Mueller and the Russia probe. The special counsel has so far charged four of Trump's former associates as part of the investigation: former campaign chairman Paul Manafort , former adviser and Manafort associate Rick Gates , former foreign policy adviser George Papadopoulos , and former national security adviser Michael Flynn . Mueller is also said to be building an obstruction-of-justice case against the president, stemming mainly from Trump's decision to fire FBI director James Comey in May. As Mueller's investigation pushes on, Trump's loyalists in politics and the media have launched a campaign focused on painting the special counsel and his investigators as biased and partisan , while echoing Trump's demands that the FBI also investigate Comey and Trump's former opponent, Hillary Clinton, over their alleged Russia ties. Conservative talking heads and Trump allies latched onto a string of damaging reports this week about investigators on Mueller's team. The Washington Post reported that Peter Strzok, a widely respected FBI counterintelligence veteran who used to work with Mueller on the Russia investigation, was ousted in July because he exchanged texts with a colleague at the FBI that could have shown that he favored Clinton over Trump. Win McNamee/Getty Images Another report said that Strzok had been instrumental in changing Comey's final characterization of Clinton's use of a private email server from "grossly negligent" — which would have carried criminal penalties — to "extremely careless." Andrew Weissman, a seasoned federal prosecutor on Mueller's team who specializes in "flipping" witnesses, was also roped into the controversy this week. The conservative watchdog group Judicial Watch released an email on Tuesday in which Weissman praised former acting attorney general Sally Yates for refusing to defend Trump's initial travel ban in January. It also emerged this week that Weissman attended Clinton's election night party at the Jacob Javits Center in New York last year. Right-wing media lashes out The revelations drew intense backlash from Trump loyalists. Sean Hannity, the Fox News opinion commentator who is one of Trump's staunchest defenders, called Mueller's team "extremely biased" and "hyper-partisan" on Tuesday. He added that Mueller's investigation "has put the country now on the brink of becoming a banana republic." "Mueller's stooges are literally doing everything within their power and then some to try and remove President Trump from office," Hannity told his 3 million viewers . Getty Images On Hannity's show Wednesday night, Fox News legal analyst Gregg Jarrett called Mueller's investigation "illegitimate and corrupt," and accused the special counsel of using the FBI as a political weapon and acting as "America's secret police." "Secret surveillance, wiretapping, intimidation, harassment and threats," Jarrett said. "It's like the old KGB that comes for you in the dark of the night, banging through your door." Jarrett added that the FBI had turned into a "shadow government." Fox News commentator Laura Ingraham weighed in on the controversy, as well. "What we are seeing here is a pattern and practice of Mueller hiring known Clinton and Obama political insiders and boosters, supporters, to undo a presidential election. That was the election of Donald Trump," she told viewers on Tuesday. The right-leaning Wall Street Journal editorial board published a column on Monday pointing to the Strzok texts as evidence of bias on Mueller's team. The board said Mueller was too conflicted to "investigate the FBI and should step down in favor of someone more credible." Trump, who has frequently referred to the Russia investigation as a politically-motivated " witch hunt ," threw in his two cents on the Strzok revelations last week, retweeting Twitter user Paul Sperry, who said Strzok was "busted" and calling for FBI director Chris Wray to "clean house" at the bureau, which he claimed was "infected" by anti-Trump bias. "Tainted (no, very dishonest?) FBI 'agent's role in Clinton probe under review,' Trump tweeted last weekend. "Led Clinton Email probe. @foxandfriends money going to wife of another FBI agent in charge." "After years of Comey, with the phony and dishonest Clinton investigation (and more), running the FBI, its reputation is in Tatters - worst in History!" he later added . "But fear not, we will bring it back to greatness." Sen. Bernie Sanders of Vermont decried this strategy to disparage on Sunday. "I am deeply offended by Republican efforts to try to discredit Mr. Mueller," he said on " Meet the Press ." "When he was FBI director, he was a great guy. Now that he's doing his job here, Republicans don't like him. I think that's really very unfair." Mainstream conservatives jump on the bandwagon Aaron Bernstein/Reuters This defense has trickled into the comments of more mainstream conservative figures and lawmakers. "If it's true that Andrew Weissmann attended Hillary's victory party, this is getting out of hand," tweeted Ari Fleischer , who served as White House press secretary under President George W. Bush. During a House Judiciary Committee hearing on Thursday, in which Wray was testifying, Republican Rep. Steve Chabot called "the depths of this anti-Trump bias" on the special counsel's team "absolutely shocking." Senate Judiciary Committee chairman Chuck Grassley said this week that Strzok's behavior and involvement in the Clinton email investigation and the Trump-Russia probe "raises new concerns of inappropriate political influence in the work of the FBI." Grassley also demanded more information about Strzok's communications with Lisa Page, the FBI lawyer with whom he exchanged texts about Clinton and Trump. "The question really is, if Mueller was doing such a great job on investigating the Russian collusion, why could he have not found the conflict of interest within their own agency?" asked Rep. Mark Meadows of North Carolina. Meadows was likely referring to the 2010 Uranium One deal, which was approved by the Obama administration. After the deal made its way back into headlines in October — shortly before Manafort and Gates were indicted — a growing chorus of conservative legislators and commentators began calling for Attorney General Jeff Sessions to appoint a second special counsel to investigate Comey's and the Clinton Foundation's roles in the deal's approval. Extensive reporting and fact-checking found no signs of wrongdoing when the Obama administration allowed Rosatom, a Russian nuclear energy firm, to acquire Canada-based Uranium One, which had significant mining stakes in the US. The deal required approval from several government agencies, including the Nuclear Regulatory Commission, which Clinton had no control over. 'A weapon of desperation' Thomson Reuters Former federal prosecutors and FBI agents agreed that investigators should be careful about expressing their personal views while working on politically charged cases, but they pushed back on the claims of bias on Mueller's team from Trump's media allies and Congressional Republicans. "I can tell you I never knew what Andrew [Weissman's] politics were when we were in the same office," said Patrick Cotter, a former federal prosecutor and longtime white collar defense lawyer who worked with Weissman in the past. "Politics never comes up between prosecutors in my experience. We have them, of course. We are citizens. But among the feds I worked with, it would have been incredibly inappropriate for anyone to express a political view at work." Cotter also added that in the law enforcement field, it was "rather irrelevant" to point to officials' political affiliation. "If you allege bias by someone carrying out their job, point to facts, not fact-free arguments that all Republicans will be corrupt against Democrats or vice versa," he told Business Insider. Joseph Pelcher, a former FBI counterintelligence operative who was stationed in Russia and specialized in organized crime, said that while agents should be careful about openly expressing their opinions, "there is certainly nothing wrong with holding political views as long as it doesn't interfere with an investigation." LaRae Quy, who served as a covert operative at the FBI for 24 years, largely echoed that point. "It's very important for agents to appear (and be) apolitical. I know that's 'pie in the sky' since we all have political views," she told Business Insider. "But the non-partisan aspect of an agent's job is important." That said, "agents are allowed to express their personal opinions ... and encouraged to vote and be responsible citizens," Quy said. "Almost every agent I know votes and upholds the democratic process. They are just smart enough to keep their mouth shut and their minds open." Cotter added that the emergence of the right wing's argument that Mueller or his investigators are politically biased against Trump seems to be "strong circumstantial evidence that those who fear what the Mueller investigation may find have no actual fact-based criticisms to make." Their "reliance on character attacks," he said, are "a weapon of desperation." NOW WATCH: A North Korean defector tells us what life was like under a dictatorship December 11, 2017 at 10:44AM