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Article Excerpt WE ARE, many of us, living in a Day-Glo apocalypse, a time during which multinational business interests, in the guise of American culture, are rapidly devouring the world, draining it of its individualistic colors. We can see the effects in Great Britain, for instance, where news analysis is beginning to be replaced by Punch-and-Judy shows such as are put on Fox, CNN, and CNBC--in one corner Mr. Right Wing, Lefty in the other, the bell sounds, and they snarl at each other for a few minutes, spouting party-line cliches until it's time for that all-important kitchen cleanser commercial. In the Arab Emirates, the powers-that-be are transforming Dubai into a characterless glob of neon splendor every bit as boring as Disneyworld or Las Vegas, bigger and brighter than both put together (what an awesome decay awaits that city come the actual apocalypse, with sand sifting through the lobby of the Hotel Burj E1 Arab and lizards presiding over the ruins of the spaceport now under construction, testimony to the prescience of J. G. Ballard). In the Far East, in the former Soviet Union and its satellites, in every quarter of the globe where the GNP is large enough to support a sturdy consumerism (even in some places where it's not), American styles, music, and advertising have made significant inroads. One can make persuasive arguments that Nigeria produces the best contemporary gangsta rap and that the most authentic-sounding reggae is to be found in Malaysia. Nowhere is this pernicious influence (or blissful contagion, depending on your point of view) more evident than in the world's various cinemas, which are churning out American-type pictures at an alarming rate. Whereas once Hollywood seduced quality foreign directors with bucketfuls of cash to come and direct a studio film, now those directors are queuing up for the opportunity and are making films every bit as boneheaded, as light on story and character, and as explosion-laced as their American counterparts, as if to say, "Hey! You want style over substance? Look what I can do!" For some it's not selling out--they weren't that good to begin with; for others, well, it's sad, really. A case in point is Mathieu Kassovitz.
Kassovitz's breakthrough film, made in 1995 when he was twenty-nine, was La Haine...
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More articles from The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction
Transfinite man.(Curiosities)(Brief article)(Book review), March 01, 2009 Shadow-below.(Short story), March 01, 2009 What's my motivation?(Films)(Ghost Town)(Movie review), March 01, 2009 Quickstone.(Short story), March 01, 2009 That Hell-Bound Train.(Short story), March 01, 2009
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