[Congressional Record Volume 140, Number 32 (Monday, March 21, 1994)]
[House]
[Page H]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Printing Office [www.gpo.gov]


[Congressional Record: March 21, 1994]
From the Congressional Record Online via GPO Access [wais.access.gpo.gov]

 
             THE NAZI DEATH CAMPS, AND ``SCHINDLER'S LIST''

  The SPEAKER pro tempore. Under a previous order of the House, the 
gentleman from California [Mr. Dornan], is recognized for 5 minutes.
  Mr. DORNAN. Mr. Speaker, and my colleagues, I want to speak tonight 
briefly about an incredible motion picture, ``Schindler's List.'' But 
before I do, I will ask unanimous consent to put in the Record an 
article from this week's USA Weekend. This has a multimillion 
circulation. It is an article by a gentleman who I think is the best 
movie critic in the United States, Michael Medved. He is as much a 
philosopher as he is a critic of films.
  Michael Medved writes an article entitled, ``It Is Safe To Go Back 
Into the Dark,''meaning the darkness of movie theaters. He said that 
Monday's Oscars, which start in about 24 minutes, will ``showcase a 
welcome change at the movies, but there is a long way to go, a 
controversial critic argues.'' By Michael Medved.
  Now, of course, USA Weekend calls him controversial only because I 
guess he believes in the Mosaic law and the ethics upon which this 
country was built--Jewish/Christian ethics. He goes to synagogue and he 
has respect for the Christian tenets that grew out of Judaism. He is a 
hero to me.
  I want to put this into the Congressional Record, his great article.
  The article follows:

                [From the USA Weekend, Mar. 18-20, 1994]

                    It's Safe To Go Back in the Dark

                          (By Michael Medved)

       This year on Oscar night, at all the glamorous parties 
     around town, Hollywood really will have cause to celebrate. 
     The major nominees for Academy Awards represent the most 
     distinguished crop of contenders in recent memory and 1993 
     box-office figures reflect rekindled public enthusiasm for 
     the American film industry. After three consecutive years of 
     steadily shrinking attendance, the number of moviegoers 
     increased sharply.
       In part, this unmistakable improvement in the public's 
     response to Hollywood stemmed from an industry-wide shift in 
     the direction of family entertainment. Those millions of 
     movie fans who'd been yearning for wholesome alternatives 
     discovered a startling wealth of new titles that parents and 
     children could enjoy together.
       Future historians may, in fact, point to 1993 as a decisive 
     turning point for popular culture, with significant changes 
     in network television as well as motion pictures. The year 
     just passed could well be remembered as the year that 
     Hollywood finally got the message, and started to make a 
     serious effort to reconnect with the values of ordinary 
     Americans.
       The readers of this magazine should know that they played a 
     part in this historic process. Two years ago, USA Weekend ran 
     early excerpts from my controversial book Hollywood vs. 
     America as a cover story under the title ``One angry 
     critic.'' The editors invited readers to call in to register 
     their agreement or disagreement with my statement: 
     ``Hollywood no longer reflects--or even respects--the values 
     of most American families.''
       The volume shattered all records from the magazine's 
     previous six years: 54,453 callers managed to get through on 
     the jammed phone lines to register their agreement; 21,221 
     callers said they disagreed. The actual number of ``yes'' 
     votes would have been many times higher had the lines been 
     able to handle them all: Phone company computers registered 
     400,000 unsuccessful attempts to call the ``yes'' line.
       This overwhelming reaction attracted a great deal of 
     attention in the entertainment industry, because it 
     corresponded so closely to accompanying evidence that 
     people meant what they said when they expressed a 
     preference for family-friendly material.
       For a long time, the conventional wisdom in Tinseltown 
     dictated that a movie had to include harsh language, explicit 
     sex and vivid violence to rake in big bucks. But I proved in 
     Hollywood vs. America that this notion had no factual basis. 
     Comprehensive computer analysis showed that, when it came to 
     average receipts at the box office, G- and PG-rated movies 
     aimed at families outperformed ``hard-edged'' R-rated movies 
     more than 2-to-1. Moreover, this pattern of higher average 
     returns on movies with softer ratings repeated itself 10 
     years in a row, even as Hollywood steadily--and self-
     destructively--increased the overall percentage of R-rated 
     material. In other words, an objective examination of the 
     commercial track record showed that the growing obsession 
     with sleaze and gore represented not only bad citizenship, 
     but also bad business.
       A few weeks after the release of my book, the press 
     reported another major study that reached the same 
     conclusions. Paul Kagan Associates, one of the industry's 
     most respected consulting firms, declared: ``Ironically, 
     while R-rated films are less likely to score big at the box 
     office and are less profitable than films with other ratings 
     . . . the percentage of R-raters in the mix has increased 
     from 50.3 percent in 1989 to 58.2 percent in 1991.'' In other 
     words, the movie industry might not be evil--as many parents 
     had come to believe--but it most certainly could be described 
     as dysfunctional.
       Before long, industry leaders began to face up to their 
     long, awkward record of ignoring the public. On Dec. 13, 
     1992, The Los Angeles Times ran an article headlined ``At the 
     box office, R doesn't rate as high as PG'' saying that 
     ``Hollywood is taking note of two recent studies . . . 
     positing that PG-13 and lower ratings are more likely to turn 
     a profit than those rated R.'' The story went on to note that 
     even Eddie Murphy had agreed to restrain his penchant for 
     salty dialogue in the upcoming Beverly Hills Cop III--which 
     means that the irreverent young star might have to master a 
     whole new vocabulary.
       Prestige journals started reporting a sea change in 
     Hollywood's thinking. The New York Times ran an analysis, 
     ``Hollywood testing the financial value of family values,'' 
     listing an impressive array of new projects the writer called 
     a ``feel-good flood.'' A few months later (March 22, 1993), a 
     Los Angeles Times story headlined ``A startling new concept: 
     family films'' quoted Bruce Berman, head of worldwide 
     distribution at Warner Bros., saying: ``This resurgence of 
     family pictures is no coincidence. We've begun to realize 
     there's a big audience out there.''
       Many of his colleagues from the executive suites began 
     making similar pronouncements. On March 9, 1993, a year after 
     USA WEEKEND's ``One angry critic'' piece and the accompanying 
     call-in, Sony/Columbia Pictures chairman Mark Canton told the 
     leading convention of movie exhibitors: ``Together . . . we 
     can make the needed changes. If we don't, this decade will be 
     noted in the history books as the embarrassing legacy of 
     what began as a great art form. We will be labeled `the 
     decline of the empire.' . . . Any smart business person 
     can see what we must do: make more PG-rated films.''
       Even Jack Valenti, an unfailingly eloquent apologist for 
     Hollywood as head of the Motion Picture Association of 
     America, took up the new theme. Delivering his annual ``State 
     of the Industry'' address to the same gathering Canton 
     addressed, he conceded: ``We have to increase the theater 
     audience. We just have to do it.'' He acknowledged that the 
     best way to achieve that purpose would be to ``start pictures 
     with less violence, less sensuality and less raunchy 
     language.'' Less than a year before, Valenti had attacked me 
     in a magazine interview as a ``singularly uninformed 
     individual who leaps from soggy premises to stupid 
     conclusions.'' Apparently, a few months' sober reflection 
     made my premises and conclusions look a good bit less soggy 
     and stupid, as he unmistakably echoed arguments that I had 
     been making for a long time.
       As these Hollywood honchos' statements make clear, the 
     industry's new found enthusiasm for family entertainment in 
     no way represents an abrupt attack of conscience. But it does 
     reflect a spasm of enlightened self-interest and common 
     sense.
       Pioneer movie mogul Samuel Goldwyn phrased the same common 
     sense in memorably concise terms some 50 years ago. ``It's 
     always better to sell four tickets than two!'' he repeatedly 
     reminded his underlings--suggesting that to lure Mom, Dad and 
     their two kids together is preferable to forcing the parents 
     to pay a baby sitter so they can go alone.
       Fortunately, this logic provided its irrefutable force at 
     the box office in 1993. The three top money makers released 
     last year--Jurassic Park, The Fugitive and Mrs. Doubtfire--
     all happened to be PG-13 movies with powerful appeal to kids 
     as well as their parents. Although may observers thought 
     Jurassic Park's rampaging dinosaurs were too menacing for 
     small kids, Steven Spielberg at least deserves credit for 
     toning down the gore and horror in the original book by 
     Michael Crichton. by the same token, had The Fugitive 
     appeared a few years ago, it might well have been an R-rated 
     bloodbath full of dismemberment and crude macho language; as 
     it was, director Andrew Davis kept faith with his broader PG-
     13 audience by crafting a marvelously old-fashioned thriller 
     that kept you at the edge of your seat without trying to turn 
     your stomach.
       At the same time, some of the most serious, brilliant (and 
     Oscar-contending) films were rated PG, including The Remains 
     of the Day, Shadowlands and The Age of Innocence. That last 
     title is an especially important milestone, because it is the 
     work of Martin Scorsese, Hollywood's most acclaimed director. 
     When this moody genius turns from Mean Streets to Clean 
     Streets, following up the lurid Last Temptation of Christ, 
     Goodfellas and Cape Fear with a stately, elegant adaptation 
     of an Edith Wharton novel, you can be sure powerful changes 
     are at work within the creative community.
       Scorsese's shift illustrates one of the most positive 
     aspects of Hollywood's new directions, which involve slight 
     but significant changes in overall aesthetic standards, not 
     just a commercially motivated fad for ``kiddie'' flicks. In 
     the recent past, the most influential film commentators saved 
     their most lavish praise for dark, disturbing, ``cutting-
     edge'' productions, as if we had abandoned traditional ideas 
     of beauty and worth, accepting the ability to shock as a 
     substitute for the old ability to uplift or inspire This 
     year, the movies that won the most prestigious Oscar 
     nominations reflect a far healthier diversity--beginning with 
     the likely winner for best picture.
       The last two best picture winners, The Silence of the Lambs 
     (1991) and Unforgiven (1992), were technically brilliant, 
     superbly acted but spiritually empty explorations of the 
     depths of depravity, demonstrating the seductive power of 
     evil. Schindler's List, on the contrary, describes the 
     seductive power of goodness. It focuses on the convincing 
     transformation of a Nazi opportunist (Liam Neeson) into a 
     most unlikely savior who risks everything for others. 
     Though set in one of history's most tormented moments, it 
     stirs the soul with hope and gratitude.
       Some of the nominated female actors show an even more 
     surprising and welcome development in this turning-point 
     year: a new willingness to look seriously, even 
     sympathetically, at religious faith. No issue has more 
     clearly demonstrated the entertainment industry's unnecessary 
     alienation of a huge segment of its potential audience than 
     the contemptuous attitude toward traditional believers in a 
     long series of recent (invariably money-losing) films. This 
     year, however, Debra Winger won a nomination for best actress 
     for her role in the exquisite Shadowlands, in which the faith 
     of both main characters, the famed Christian scholar C.S. 
     Lewis (Anthony Hopkins) and his late-in-life wife, Joy 
     Gresham (Winger), is presented with tenderness and respect. 
     And Rosie Perez is a frontrunner for the best supporting 
     actress award for her role in the haunting Fearless, which 
     probes questions of faith and fate with intensity and 
     integrity.
       The crowd-pleasing Rudy, the inspiring story of an 
     undersized football wannabe who nurses impossible dreams of 
     playing for Notre Dame, features the most affectionate 
     characterization of a priest (played by Robert Proskey) since 
     Bing Crosby's death. At the same time, TV's L.A. Law welcomed 
     a ``born-again'' Christian character who, as played by 
     Alexandra Powers, amazed most observers by turning out to be 
     a beautiful, brilliant, capable idealist.
       The recent changes are encouraging for many reasons, but 
     they hardly signify the start of a messianic age. Last year 
     helped to ease, but did not solve, Hollywood's ongoing crisis 
     in values. In spite of all the positive developments, the 
     industry still creates scores of exploitative, gratuitously 
     violent films, with far too many R releases (61.2 percent of 
     '93's total, according to MPAA figures) for an intelligent or 
     effective mix. Even worse are the out-of-place elements that 
     turn up even in family-oriented features, rudely shocking 
     moviegoers. Why include a sequence showing attempted date 
     rape in the charming Beethoven's 2nd? Why insert a scene into 
     the handsomely crafted Iron Will (one of '94's best family 
     films so far) in which the 17-year-old hero solves a crucial 
     problem by threatening a rival with a gun?
       These are minor quibbles, of course, but they remind us 
     that the situation in the movie business is always fluid and 
     unpredictable, and that the current new directions will 
     continue only with encouragement from the public and critics.
       Hollywood's recent renewal shows an aroused, engaged public 
     can have a profound impact on the direction of show business. 
     Two years ago, I ended my USA Weekend story by expressing my 
     ``hope that this appalling but amazing industry will regain 
     its bearings and once again merit the affection of its 
     audience.'' We all can feel gratified that recent 
     developments have moved us closer to realizing that hope.
  Mr. DORNAN. It shows the difference in 2 years, it shows the picture 
of the great English actor Anthony Hopkins, who has been made a peer of 
the realm, a lord, and it shows Lord Hopkins in March 1992, ``The 
Silence of the Lambs.'' Hannibal Lector Cannibal. It shows him in his 
Academy-nominated performance tonight, March 1994, ``Shadowlands.'' the 
story of C.S. Lewis, Christian scholar.
  Mr. Speaker, I went to see ``Schindler's List'' about 2 weeks ago. 
The theater was almost empty. It was in a multiplex group of theaters.
  I asked the manager why there was not a very big crowd. He said the 
theater had filled the first week, but that people who had an interest 
in the Holocaust were the ones who filled the theater. I believe it 
will win the Academy Award as the Best Picture tonight. That will help 
a little bit.
  But he said he heard some people who came in to see other films say 
they did not want to go through the experience.
  Now, you cannot make a film about the Holocaust without shocking 
people, without stabbing their conscience, without making them think 
about the history of our times. As I heard Phil Donahue say on his show 
the other day, he was alive while this was all going on; so was I and 
so were you, Mr. Speaker. It is hard to believe that these nightmares 
took place in the 1940's following the great world's fair in New York 
in 1939 and 1940.
  But the reason that this brilliant--and he is still very young--
director-producer, Stephen Spielberg put it in black and white was to 
tone down some of the blood and the horror and also to capture the 
starkness of World War II, which we recall in our memories as a black-
and-white war because of most of the newsreels.
  I would say that someone cannot lay claim to being, not an 
intellectual but an educated person alive today without seeing this 
film. It is not a movie, it is an experience, an historical experience 
like spending 3 hours and 15 minutes at the Holocaust Museum or as a 
tourist, for example, going to a beautiful Bavaria in Germany, visiting 
the pubs, the beer cellars in Munich, and then taking the time to go 
less than an hour outside of Munich to the first of all the 
concentration camps, Dachau, when it was run by Hess.
  I took my younger son Mark--he is not so young, he is in his 
thirties--a few years ago to a horrible experience but a deeply moving 
one. We visited in Poland all of the extermination death camps; drove 
40 minutes north of Warsaw to Treblinka, to Sobibor, spent the night, 
then went to Belzec, to Mydanyck, and then we took a short detour to a 
work camp called Placow. Little did I know that that would be the 
principal camp in ``Schindler's List.''
  Then we went to Auschwitz, the satellite camp Birkenau, and completed 
the six camps designed just to exterminate millions of people up at 
Chelmo. It was night, the third day had gone by, and my son sat across 
the hood of the car and said, ``Dad, look at all the stars in the sky 
and imagine each one of them as each one of the 6 million souls of the 
Jewish people whom Hitler managed to exterminate until he ran out of 
time.'' I reminded my son it was 12 million who died in the 
concentration camps.
  I would beg anybody, I repeat, who wants to engage in serious 
conversation about the hate crimes arising over the world, even in our 
own country; you cannot discuss skinheads, the Aryan nation, Farrakhan, 
you cannot probably understand the whole crisis in the Middle East, the 
up and off and on again peace process, unless you take the time to 
visit the Holocaust Museum, as close to us as the Lincoln, closer than 
the Lincoln Memorial, right next to the Washington Monument.

                              {time}  2040

  And I would suggest that my colleagues, yes, subject themselves to 
the intellectual exercise of sitting there and watching ``Schindler's 
List.'' Spielberg is a remarkable young man. He already has the Irving 
Thalberg Award for his life's work, and I will finish on this, Mr. 
Speaker:
  He is nominated for three awards for ``Jurassic Park,'' plain old 
popular, populist film. He will win two of those. He is nominated 12 
times for ``Schindler's List.'' I predict he will win 9 of those, maybe 
10. To take 12, 11, even 10, but 15 nominations is incredible. See the 
work of this fabulous young artist, and, even if he thinks the sixties 
were the generation of greed, it made him a multimillionaire. So, we do 
not agree on politics, but I certainly agree this young man is a 
remarkable historian.
  I say to my colleagues, ``Schindler's List''; see it, and you'll be 
glad you did.

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