Several reviewers have already pointed out that the original
Daddy Warbucks character, as envisioned by cartoonist Harold Gray, was a
hardcore, free-market capitalist who often voiced his opposition to Franklin
Roosevelt and the social policies of the New Deal. Viewers whose knowledge of
Little Orphan Annie comes solely from the Broadway musical of the 1970s and the
subsequent movie versions may find this surprising, as Warbucks evolved (or
mutated) to have a close relationship and alliance with Roosevelt—politics and
private industry working hand-in-hand to help the poor. That was definitely not
Gray’s vision.
His Warbucks believed that the wealthy’s responsibility to society was to simply
provide jobs to people.
The newest take on the role, played by Jaime Foxx and now
called William Stacks, has much more in common with the original Warbucks than
with his later, more liberalized version. He is a cell phone magnate whose
single interest is in growing his business. He’s running for mayor of New York
City but doesn’t seem to have any platform or agenda beyond increasing his own
visibility to help his company broaden its reach. Early in the film, you might say to yourself
(as I did), “What a perfect set-up for what’s coming. He’ll come in contact
with Annie, learn about the suffering of others, and discover his true mission
in life.” In fact, his lack of actual platform is mentioned so many times,
early in the film, that it seemed clear to me that this is where the movie was
headed. Add to that his discovery that Annie is illiterate, and that many
children in the city fall through the cracks and get passed along in school
without learning what they need to learn, and the stage is set perfectly.
Stacks will start to think about his relationship and responsibility to the
society around him. He’ll become the Education Candidate. He’ll make that his political
mission, and that is what will lead him to electoral victory.
Except that’s not what happens. Not at all. Stacks does learn a lesson about selfishness
and love, but it leads him to drop out of the race entirely, and let the diehard
liberal candidate (amusingly named after the original cartoonist) take the
election. Stacks does come out of the
story caring about children’s literacy, and it leads him to open a children’s literacy
center (although this only happens in the closing credits; up till then, his focus
is solely on helping Annie). So he’s a good guy, and he uses some of his money to
help others. He’s a good guy in the way the Koch brothers are good guys: if you
leapfrog over how they make their money and don’t question why some people should
have quite so much money while other have nothing, then you have to acknowledge
that they spend some of their money philanthropically, and good for them for
doing so. It’s the liberal politician’s job to deal with social policy; the
rich man goes back to making money.
What’s interesting is that the underlying system is NEVER questioned,
even for a second. Will Stacks is a billionaire because he works hard. He even
gets a nice song about making the most of his opportunities. But Annie and the
other foster kids live in abusive squalor…why? No reason is given, beyond the
fact that their particular foster mother is a selfish wreck. Personal
responsibility and accountability are great things to focus on, and they cross the
political aisle (though conservatives like to pretend that liberals don’t care
about personal responsibility), but they’re not the full story. Why is the
foster care system underfunded? Why are the office bureaucrats dour and grim
and unhelpful (until one of them gets to rub up against Great Wealth, after
which she becomes charming)? How is a bright child like Annie allowed to move
through school without learning how to read? The screenwriters go the trouble
of pointing out that Annie isn’t alone—that there are many kids who suffer the
same problem—but it doesn’t focus any attention on the systemic problems that
lead to this result, or suggest that there are
structural problems that lead to this result, or suggest that there may be other
ways of structuring things. All they offer is the rich man riding in on the
white horse to save the day. Thank god there’s a rich guy who can fund a
literacy center to make up for our shitty schools, they say. What isn’t said,
but is definitely implied, is that shitty schools are just a fact of life…for
some people. The poor you will always have with you. And in a world where
nothing is causative beyond personal responsibility, or its lack, the other thing
that’s implied is that anyone who is poor has only themselves to blame for it. They
didn’t make the most of their opportunities, like Will Stacks did.
The message throughout seems to be that society must depend
on the wealthy for pretty much everything—not only for jobs, but also for
whatever assistance is needed to better our lives. So thank God for the rich. They
do not have any responsibility to fix
the system—to make it more equitable, to make it more functional. They do not
have any responsibility to limit what they take, to make sure others have what
they need. Each person is a free agent, and each person is 100% responsible for
his or her life circumstances. There is nothing else at play, holding people back
or limiting their opportunities. Therefore, the only responsibility of the rich
man is to get rich and stay rich, so that they can “save” whatever they deem
worthy of saving, out of the goodness of their hearts. They are the lords and
the rest of us are serfs, and you’d better thank your lucky stars you have a lord on hand to take care of things.
I don’t mean to mock. This is a real political point of
view, held by many people in this country—now and in times past. I think it’s
surprising how clearly and internally consistently this point of view is
illustrated and defended throughout the movie, especially considering how excessively
liberal Hollywood is accused of being. The DVD of the movie ought to be every
conservative’s favorite stocking-stuffer, next Christmas.
However, I do think it’s important to identify the point of
view and see it for what it is. It’s very easy to take the happy ending as
given, and swallow the happy medicine with the spoonful of sugar it’s delivered
with. But I think it’s all right to think
about it, too, and question it—to have a dialogue with the movie (as with any
piece of art and culture). If we happen not to agree with its point of view, I think
it’s right and proper to challenge it, especially with older children who are
seeing the movie with us. Every movie creates a world, and every fictional
world gives us the opportunity to learn something about the real world. We
should make the most of our opportunities.
