Greatest Movie of All Time of the Week: The Beast!

Theme: We Never Learn - Clan of Xymox

Like Jawbreaker, The Beast is what I'd call a problematic fave if I spoke YouTuber With Pending Sexual Misconduct Allegations. This is because it cannot escape the Boomer Truth framework in which (or, very occasionally, against which) virtually all movies have been made. Fortunately, as you know, I have no hangups about liking what I like despite the soy-soaked motivations of its authors, because everything good is derived from a Platonic form of truth crudely translated by uncomprehending mortal vessels blind to its higher significance and resonances in the grand celestial design.

Goddammit, Pat, you are NOT steering this into another hidden depth. I MEAN it, I will turn this tank RIGHT ROUND.

So it is that an H*llywood m*vie doing everything it can to frame its critique of the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan within safe regime-compliant terms wound up forecasting eerily the Yoo Ess Ay's own clusterfuck of an adventure in the Graveyard of Empires some decade-and-a-half later. For The Beast has its cast of commie marauders speak English in their own American accents, so if you happened to tune in while channel-hopping on TV (a primitive form of YouTube watched by early homo algorithmus), you might briefly think you'd stumbled on a 2000s movie about then-current events, except that the camera doesn't flail about as though the cameraman were being electrocuted, which for some reason everyone thought looked super cool in the 2000s.

"Uhh don't you think this would look better if we couldn't see what the fuck was going on?" - every director in the 2000s at once.

While most war movies suck and are boring (to say nothing of their propaganda content, which is on a par with newspapers), The Beast is audiovisual candy from its first frame to its last, and makes you wonder why they quit using those dreamy synth scores around the same time everyone traded in their Poison and Cinderella T-shirts for flannel. The detached, crystalline soundscapes and aerial tracking shots along Martianesque canyons render what you're seeing like a daydream, lighter than air, which is no small feat for a movie that opens with a Pashtun village massacre that culminates in a guy getting crushed to death feet-first by the titular tank.

They're doing this to me at work tomorrow.

I could prate on about the obvious parallels between bloated empires ruled by geriatrics overextending with Middle East wars but every day is Groundhog Day and you don't need to hear "I Got You Babe" again from me. The parallel less often drawn is how all libtard empires justify their wars of aggression with appeals to that perennial idol, pRoGrEsS. The Soviet tank crew's Afghan comrade justifies selling out his people on the basis that the Sovs will modernise his backwards homeland, citing laughably outmoded theory of the promised future "dialectical materialism", which is hardly less laughable than the neocon slime bewailing the loss of the Gendyr Stydies Dypartments at the sham universities they propped up during their later occupation of the same unhappy country.

Soviet/neocon outreach to the Afghans (1982-2022, colourised).

Growing up is realising there's not only zero daylight between commies and libtards, but as little between said libtards and neocons. It's all one big slurry of murderous, bottomlessly stupid garbage, every word of it premised on Boomer Truth.

So while this cringe would-be mic-drop seems merely trite if you put any stock in the writers/directors/miscellaneous rapists as the authors of the work, it's actually deeply revealing and thematically on point: the only language the smartest pinko in the crew can grasp onto to gesture vaguely at the truth is LE BAD NATZEES, just as he can appeal only to the women who attempt to stone him with one of three words in their language he's learned the whole time he's been in their country.

Hezbollah bros brief me on the finer points of their Lebanon defence strategy (2026, colourised).

The tank commander tells a story of the battle of Stalingrad in which he was pressed into use as a child soldier using Molotov cocktails to disable German tanks. Sooner than realise his own loathsome regime (who were the majority stakeholder in the invasion of Poland and had already murdered millions in peacetime) was the problem, he and all his fuckup crew can only project onto their archetypal shadow enemy. In Boomer Truth tHe NaZiS are simultaneously unique in their cartoonish evilness, but also every undesirable act by anyone today means they're tHe NaZiS, because tHe NaZiS are the collective boogeyman for generations of arrested children.

This tired maymay is unintentionally brilliant because it perfectly demonstrates the maximum level of introspection permissible under the Boomer Truth Regime: are the objects of the daily Two Minutes' Hate, in fact, The Bad Guys? Why yes, comrade! Back to work, no further questions.

It's worth mentioning that this film was shot in isr**l, an actual supremacist ethnostate with a history of nothing but ethnic cleansing and genocide for lebensraum, whose self-described master race lobby their Epstein colony's congress night and day with definitions of aNtIsEmItIsM that make it a specific thoughtcrime to compare them to the hated natzee shadow archetype, thus making it impossible for the Newspeak speaker even to articulate the thought that anything they do is bad, because badness = natzism and natzism badness.

But since, for now, we have the words to do so, let's reflect once more that murdering the German civilisation in World War Heckin Two did nothing to remove ethnosupremacism from the world, only to clear the way for a far more powerful, dangerous and evil ethnosupremacist clique to seize global control unopposed. For this reason, there can no longer be any defence of the boomoid myth; you must confront it, and repent.

Next week: Dude Where's My Car!!!11