ankle, another will
show leg, and another will show—well, you can see how one thing leads to another. For years the industry found itself subjected
to censorship. The old Hays Office reviewed films before they were released, while censors working for the networks decided
what could and could not be portrayed on television. Now such censorship has all but disappeared. Movies may portray whatever
they want, subject only to a loose rating system. On television, prime-time programming has become much more sexually explicit
than even after-hours programming of just a decade ago. (Watching
Ally McBeal
recently, I kept count. The word “penis” was used three times. Sexual intercourse was portrayed at least two times. I say
“at least” because the way the bodies were positioned, it was hard to tell.)
What takes place on the set tends to take place in private life. Hollywood may never have been a paragon of virtue. But it
used to observe certain standards. In the old days even the biggest stars had to sign contracts that contained clauses prohibiting
“moral turpitude.” If the stars misbehaved, they risked losing their jobs. Today? It is difficult to imagine an act that anyone
in Hollywood would construe as misbehavior. Rob Lowe was sued for having sex with a minor, in an encounter captured on videotape.
Lowe’s career continues to flourish. Hugh Grant was arrested with a prostitute. Grant remains a major star. Since Hollywood
has rejected traditional moral values, it has little time for the party of traditional moral values, the GOP.
“Everybody wants to date a supermodel,” Medved said. “And if you want to succeed with really great-looking women, you’ll have
far more success if you’re a member of the left than if you’re a member of the right.” In Hollywood, the pleasures of being
a Democrat are, so to speak, too great to forgo.
Journal entry:
Waiting for Rob Long to arrive for breakfast this morning, I made notes on the scene around me. Everyone in the dining room
of the Four Seasons Hotel in Beverly Hills wore clothes that looked simultaneously informal and exquisitely expensive. Everyone
had a tan. Everyone had perfect teeth
.
Two men and a woman sat at a table next to mine. The men wore black trousers and black three-button jackets over black shirts.
The woman wore a black dress. The dress was cut low. It would have revealed her cleavage, if she had had any. Both men and
the woman had hair that stuck straight up in little spikes and wore glasses with gunmetal wire rims and tiny lenses. Eavesdropping
as they lingered over their juice—each had ordered only a single glass of grapefruit juice—I actually overheard them using
the terms “red-lighted” and “green-lighted,” as in, The studio “red-lighted” my last project but has “green-lighted” my next
one
.
Two thoughts crossed my mind. The first was that the people in this dining room were the real thing, people living the Hollywood
dream. The second was that I was the only Republican present
.
Rob Long graduated from Yale in 1987, returned to his prep school, Andover, to teach English for a year, got bored, then left
for Hollywood. A gifted writer—he had written a number of student productions as an undergraduate—Long enrolled in the writing
program at the UCLA film school. “If you were a writer,” Long told me over breakfast, “film school was really easy. I had
one class a week, and I spent the rest of the time on the beach.”
During Long’s first year in Hollywood, he became a conservative.
“A friend gave me a copy of
Modern Times
,” Long explained.
Modern Times
is the history of the twentieth century by the conservative English journalist Paul Johnson. When he read the book, Long’s
own political thinking crystallized. “Sitting on the beach in Santa Monica,” Long said, “I kept reading one thing after another
that they’d never taught me at Andover or Yale.
show leg, and another will show—well, you can see how one thing leads to another. For years the industry found itself subjected
to censorship. The old Hays Office reviewed films before they were released, while censors working for the networks decided
what could and could not be portrayed on television. Now such censorship has all but disappeared. Movies may portray whatever
they want, subject only to a loose rating system. On television, prime-time programming has become much more sexually explicit
than even after-hours programming of just a decade ago. (Watching
Ally McBeal
recently, I kept count. The word “penis” was used three times. Sexual intercourse was portrayed at least two times. I say
“at least” because the way the bodies were positioned, it was hard to tell.)
What takes place on the set tends to take place in private life. Hollywood may never have been a paragon of virtue. But it
used to observe certain standards. In the old days even the biggest stars had to sign contracts that contained clauses prohibiting
“moral turpitude.” If the stars misbehaved, they risked losing their jobs. Today? It is difficult to imagine an act that anyone
in Hollywood would construe as misbehavior. Rob Lowe was sued for having sex with a minor, in an encounter captured on videotape.
Lowe’s career continues to flourish. Hugh Grant was arrested with a prostitute. Grant remains a major star. Since Hollywood
has rejected traditional moral values, it has little time for the party of traditional moral values, the GOP.
“Everybody wants to date a supermodel,” Medved said. “And if you want to succeed with really great-looking women, you’ll have
far more success if you’re a member of the left than if you’re a member of the right.” In Hollywood, the pleasures of being
a Democrat are, so to speak, too great to forgo.
Journal entry:
Waiting for Rob Long to arrive for breakfast this morning, I made notes on the scene around me. Everyone in the dining room
of the Four Seasons Hotel in Beverly Hills wore clothes that looked simultaneously informal and exquisitely expensive. Everyone
had a tan. Everyone had perfect teeth
.
Two men and a woman sat at a table next to mine. The men wore black trousers and black three-button jackets over black shirts.
The woman wore a black dress. The dress was cut low. It would have revealed her cleavage, if she had had any. Both men and
the woman had hair that stuck straight up in little spikes and wore glasses with gunmetal wire rims and tiny lenses. Eavesdropping
as they lingered over their juice—each had ordered only a single glass of grapefruit juice—I actually overheard them using
the terms “red-lighted” and “green-lighted,” as in, The studio “red-lighted” my last project but has “green-lighted” my next
one
.
Two thoughts crossed my mind. The first was that the people in this dining room were the real thing, people living the Hollywood
dream. The second was that I was the only Republican present
.
Rob Long graduated from Yale in 1987, returned to his prep school, Andover, to teach English for a year, got bored, then left
for Hollywood. A gifted writer—he had written a number of student productions as an undergraduate—Long enrolled in the writing
program at the UCLA film school. “If you were a writer,” Long told me over breakfast, “film school was really easy. I had
one class a week, and I spent the rest of the time on the beach.”
During Long’s first year in Hollywood, he became a conservative.
“A friend gave me a copy of
Modern Times
,” Long explained.
Modern Times
is the history of the twentieth century by the conservative English journalist Paul Johnson. When he read the book, Long’s
own political thinking crystallized. “Sitting on the beach in Santa Monica,” Long said, “I kept reading one thing after another
that they’d never taught me at Andover or Yale.
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