In recent weeks, the vast majority of us have had the stressful experience of living through the crisis of the COVID-19 pandemic. It has been a time when many of us, limited in our lifestyle and experiencing drastically reduced social activity, have turned to television as a diversion.
For many that has resulted in following the American election with far greater focus than might otherwise have been the case. Of course, as Canadians we can hardly ignore the fact that what happens south of the border is bound to have some impact on us. At the same time, the intensity of feeling that the election has generated has resulted in most people choosing a side they would want to win.
However, regardless of whether one favoured the Democrats or the Republicans, Mr. Trump or Mr. Biden, it became clear that the United States was experiencing not only a sharp division, but also that behind that division there was a great deal of anger.
That anger was stoked by a number of factors – factors too often reported to need listing. Not least among them is a perceived widening gap between rich and poor. In this regard, two documentaries available on Netflix have relevance while also being engaging.
Sour Grapes, a 2016 film about a young criminal found guilty of faking vintage wine, ostensibly has little to do with economic disparity. It tells the story of a young Asian, a man of many talents. Not least among these is his phenomenal wine palate. This allows him to identify in minute and accurate detail the provenance of virtually every wine he tastes: the winery, the specific section of the winery, and the exact vintage.
Armed with this gift, he gains the respect and confidence of wealthy wine collectors to whom he sells bottles of apparently rare and much sort-after wines – wines which were offered for sale at leading and reputable auction houses.
What the purchasers did not know was that the wines for which they were bidding were fakes, apparently carefully concocted in their seller’s home. Though the mystery of that forger’s exact background and identity still remains a secret, his criminal activity is beyond doubt.
What Sour Grapes makes all too apparent is that there is a small number of people in the world able and willing to spend millions of dollars on a few bottles of wine. One such enthusiast, interviewed for the film, readily admits to having spent millions on a wine collection, a collection which is stored in his impressive cellar in his even more impressive mansion. In its entirety. Sour Grapes is an intriguing depiction of an unusual crime, taking place in a rarefied world. Its relevance to the matter of the economic divide is, of course, a sidebar.
We are all vaguely aware of the conspicuous lifestyle of the very rich, and many regard such wealth as almost inexcusable in a world where millions live in poverty. Regardless of whether one thinks that such wealth is justified or whether one thinks that a person has a right to spend personal wealth as the person chooses, many might regard it as obscene that a man can spend a fortune amassing a collection of wine – a collection which is presumably never intended to be drunk and which appears to have been gathered simply so that the owner can say that he owns it while the rest of us do not.
Indeed, one of the participants casually points out that a man with a spare million might equally casually decide to spend it on wine. In the light of such extravagance, it is understandable that the far less fortunate become angry.
But this begs the question: how is such wealth accumulated?
One answer is suggested in the 2017 Robert Reich documentary Saving Capitalism. Reich, a famous economist, recognizes that many feel that a free market economy, one with no government interference, is desirable. In the film, he argues that there is bound to be government interference in a capitalist system, but that that interference needs to be changed, from one which overwhelmingly favours the wealthy to one which protects the rest. Taking a historical perspective, Reich makes his case in compelling fashion, using film clips, accessible graphs, and a little straightforward lecturing. He comes across as very convincing.
Now, it is a fact that I know little or nothing about economics, and I am more than ready to hear others’ views which may well run contrary to those of Reich. Even though I am ill-informed about the topic, I suspect that Reich’s thesis is open to objection, especially as it appears to be decidedly simplistic.
Despite this, though the film was made in 2017, it does in the end seem to have remarkable relevance to today’s political realities. As a result, one thing is clear to me as an ill-informed viewer: if I am going to make an informed decision when next I vote, I need to do my homework. In other words, Saving Capitalism should definitely not be regarded as the last word on the topic, but an excellent starting point in helping one to frame the necessary questions and, it is to be hoped, to come up with some satisfactory answers.
Which leads me to an equally important observation. As the epidemic runs its course, with all its many consequences, I have re-discovered the wonderful service offered by the local public libraries. The libraries allow you to put books (and other media) on hold so that one can pick them up when they become available.
It’s a hygienic and wonderful way to encourage me to read – and to get away from the often-meaningless television programming, programming which still, as Newton Minow of the U.S. Federal Communications Commission said almost 60 years ago, is largely “a vast wasteland.”
If it weren’t, people would not be subscribing in such great numbers to Netflix, Prime, HBO and the like. Mindful of this, I know that it really is time to get back to the books, so that I am better prepared for the next Canadian election.