I'm gonna assume everyone's already watched Hamilton on Disney+ by the time they read this, but. . . well, if you haven't noticed, but this year has been a little, uh, different when it comes to America, and it's hard to avoid acknowledging that, even (or especially?) on the country's annual Independence Day. We're in a, uh, period of years (a "term," you might say) where things have been decidedly worse on the homefront, and the combination of *gestures broadly at everything* makes even the celebration of a three-day weekend something with loaded context.
So let's avoid that but pretend that we're sorta addressing it by thinking of some vaguely 4th of July-appropriate films that are less on the mindlessly-jingoistic side.
And also that aren't Jaws, because - well, everyone already knows why.
Look, I like making lists, and talking about unimportant bullshit isn't the worst coping mechanism.
Terminator 2: Judgement Day & Terminator: Dark Fate
James Cameron is many things, but subtle is not one of them. It's no accident that Sarah Connor becomes trapped in a police station in the first film, her survivor's story dismissed by uninterested men, until what's held as a place of safety becomes a death trap. And it's likewise no accident that Sarah is forcibly institutionalized by unthinking men who treat the mentally ill as commodities, until a hospital becomes a death trap.
It's also no accident that a killing machine takes the form of a Los Angeles Police Officer.
Terminator 2: Judgement Day isn't just a banger of a July 4th film because it originally released on the July 4th weekend back in 1991 (though, that sure doesn't hurt), but because it's about the fight for liberation. It's about the importance of listening to women and preparing a new generation to face a crisis instead of pretending that it's not coming because you don't want to think about it (already apropos enough before the U.S. leadership was fucking up the response to the current pandemic). And for all the clunky catchphrases and broad silliness inescapable when revisiting big '90s blockbusters, T2 still holds up as a gloriously fun peak of the stunt-based set piece blow-outs of the pre-Matrix era of action filmmaking.
And then for their third (or fourth, depending on how you count) attempt at a follow-up from T2, Dark Fate doubles down on the not-at-all-accidental messaging of the originals and plays its big-screen reunion between Linda Hamilton and Arnold Schwarzenegger as "Terminator by way of a superhero movie." Not only does the introduction of Dani Ramos (as the savior of humanity, not the mother thereof) as the answer to a new generation of Terminators play as a refreshing modern spin on the role of Sarah Connor, but. . . well, the new Terminator assumes the appearance of a CBP officer and then our heroes - two of them women, one from Mexico City - beat the shit outta him.
(Look, y'all slept on Dark Fate in theaters, and it deserves your time.)
The Matrix & Pacific Rim
The myth of America's celebration of Independence Day is about the overthrow of oppressive systems, and nothing quite encapsulates that like self-actualization and love transcending the limits of technology to liberate the human spirit from the threat of annihilation. Like Bill Pullman's speech in Act 3 of Independence Day, but without the national baggage.
The Matrix is almost a gimme in terms of "vaguely counter-culture but still affirming blockbusters" given that it's famously a work by two trans women that also reads as an explicit trans narrative in hindsight (so far as the main antagonist literally dead-naming the hero until they're thrown under a train). But it also whips a tremendous amount of ass, from the cutting edge visuals and revolutionary action direction to the memorable characters and genuine sense of wonder and discovery through a ton of shockingly propulsive exposition.
And when it comes to marrying action of staggering scale directly to character arcs about coming together in times of extraordinary crisis, you go to the "giant robots fighting giant monsters movie that's really a metaphor for healing psychological trauma and connecting with people" by the director of The Shape of Water and Pan's Labyrinth. I meant it almost literally when I drew the comparison between Pacific Rim and ID4, right down to a father figure giving a rousing speech about the need to come together and believe in each other as the finale call to action.
Look, cancelling the apocalypse sounds slightly more necessary in the literal sense than it did in 2013.
. . . Ok, we're gonna talk about superheroes now.
I know, but they do this shit real right from time to time.
Wonder Woman / Captain America: The Winter Soldier / Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse
"Love will save the world."
"Root out fascism and burn what it's infested to the ground, if need be."
"Anyone can wear the mask. You can wear the mask."
I don't feel like I need to be as long-winded in explaining why these feel relevant to the moment. Wonder Woman is about empathy and strength overthrowing fear and endless violence, with its male lead showing heroism most by acts of literal support ("Diana - shield!") or making a sacrifice so that someone else can save the world after him.
Speaking of Sacrificial Steves, I rate Captain America: The First Avenger pretty high and have thrown it into the ol' July 4th rotation more than once, but the sequel - about Rogers learning that once-trusted institutions have inescapably become tools of violent oppression, and that you still stand up to bullies at home as strongly as you would anywhere else - has. . . let's say it's aged pretty well, too. "Celebrating America" isn't about glorifying the state, but in lifting up the people who have built and continually improved it.
Which brings us to the messy melting pot of an outlandishly stylish animated film. Into the Spider-Verse is one of the few superhero films to feel like it captures the input of multiple cultures even as it combines animation disciplines. It also spits in the face of recklessness and irresponsibility (the central villain is endangering an entire population for his own selfish desires, hrm hmm), and urges everyone who has the power to change their corner of the world to do so responsibly.
And to wear. The damn. Mask.
But. . . what if we want to be a bit more politically explicit while still being fun?
We're going to Dad Movie Corner.
Clear and Present Danger & Enemy of the State
Yes, that's Harrison Ford literally wearing the American Flag on the left, and Will Smith (who's blockbuster career practically carried the same cultural connotation, at least from ID4 onward) in a Jerry Bruckheimer / Tony Scott joint on the right. Why these?
Well, they're about men who discover the rot in the political system in which they'd previously placed their trust - one in events inspired by the Reagan presidency and another a warning against an invasion of privacy that actually looks quaint compared to the monitoring of citizens in wake of the Patriot Act - and blow these wide open so that accountability can do its work and the guilty will face justice.
Well, they're about men who discover the rot in the political system in which they'd previously placed their trust - one in events inspired by the Reagan presidency and another a warning against an invasion of privacy that actually looks quaint compared to the monitoring of citizens in wake of the Patriot Act - and blow these wide open so that accountability can do its work and the guilty will face justice.
In other words, science fiction.
Apart from that pithy comment, these function as quietly fascinating looks at American political thrillers from Australian and English directors, respectively. Noyce's work on Patriot Games proved his action chops, but Clear and Present Danger has had some of its set pieces quoted by films multiple times over the past 25 years. And Enemy of the State almost plays as a cyber-security riff on Three Days of the Condor, with bonus latter-day Gene Hackman.
However, if your tastes are running more international. . .
Maybe you're looking to travel the globe in search of your fireworks - solid choice. American cinema hardly has a monopoly on broad, expensive spectacle, especially starting at the turn of the century. The Wandering Earth plays like someone watched Armageddon and decided to top it in every way possible on a dare, and. . . well, succeeds. The people of the world unite in the face of devastating climate change to turn the earth into a rocket ship (I'm not kidding) to fly to a new solar system (still not kidding) and on the way, they end up having to fight Jupiter - as in, the planet - with lasers (still. not. kidding.).
And, uh, it rules. China is better at making flag-waving boom factories than America has been for a while, and competent scientific responses to crises feel extra reassuring right now.
Speaking of, there's also a Korean zombie movie. When a highly deadly infection is sweeping the Joseon nation, one of its ministers uses the pandemic to seize profit and power for himself. There's a lot of familiar zombie movie tropes playing out over the course of a film that is also decidedly a medieval war drama, with reluctant princes, rebel leaders, giant pitched melee battles, heroic last stands, and climactic martial arts duels. It's a tonal balancing act staying just far enough from the despair and nihilism that so easily, er, infest the genre, offering triumph and the promise of victory if we unite in the face of disaster.
That's what it's all about, right? July 4th is as stupid as any other nationalistic holiday, but it catches hold because - in its heart - it's about the glory of uniting in a common cause. Of disparate individuals believing in a shared truth. It's another communal tradition to keep us warm around the fire as we shelter from the night.
So, whatever you're watching or reading or listening to or whatever else you're doing to mark this particular long weekend of the summer, know others are sharing your fire. Even if it's only in socially distancing spirit.
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