The announcement that Michael Bay is going to direct a movie about Benghazi seems tailor-made to provoke paroxysms of snarky schadenfreude in a prominent section of the internet’s pop culture commentariat. It was an announcement to rival Nicolas Cage’s unveiling as the star of the rebooted evangelical apocalypse thriller Left Behind. Even more than the meme-factory Cage, Bay is thought by many to represent every over-the-top, fraudulent strain that’s currently tainting cinema—and here he is, at the helm of a story whose only natural audience are the Fox-watching philistines of the flyover states (and ironic hate-watchers). According to the AV Club it’s “news that seems like it’s designed simply as a setup for the sharpest political joke of all time.”
If the reason Michael Bay exists is to create big, loud cultural events that will satisfy people and get them talking, he may have already made his masterpiece. Bay’s films are renowned for being big, loud, over-the-top money-making machines. His signature style, often called “Bayhem,” involves having as many elements moving onscreen as possible; swirling, larger-than-life. For this, his movies make obscene amounts of money, but have made him a convenient target to represent all that’s hollow and commercial about contemporary Hollywood. As far as the excess charge goes, it’s true, that’s what he does. Even Michael Bay’s most “modest” film, Pain & Gain (with an indie budget of $26 million) has physically gargantuan men as its selling point.
Michael Bay doing scaling it down.
However, he incites the sort of critical pile-ons that have reviewers regularly invoking “the death of cinema.” A vlogger for Escapist Magazine posits that this kind of critical reaction isn’t just a swipe at Bay, it’s a proxy for attacking the perceived low tastes of America as a whole. Since it’s an unbreakable taboo for a critic to denigrate the “average American moviegoer,” the politically correct alternative is to trash with unrelenting zeal the filmmaker who’s seen as most emblematic of their unrefined tastes. To slag Bay, the logic goes, is to stake a place above the perceived bovine intellect of the typical popcorn-gobbling Cineplex rube.
Michael Bay isn’t just film’s most excessive artist, he represents things—he embodies totalizing statements. And now he’s going to make a film based on the book Thirteen Hours: A Firsthand Account of What Really Happened In Benghazi.
The non-partisan backstory is that on September 11, 2012, members of a Libyan militia attacked the US consulate in Benghazi and the nearby CIA station, killing the ambassador, J. Christopher Stevens, a diplomat, and two CIA contractors. Eastern Libya had historically been a center for takfiri extremism—according to Newsweek, “an astoundingly large number of men traveled from there to Iraq to fight Americans during the war, and in a 2008 telegram released by WikiLeaks, Ambassador Stevens wrote that “By contrast with mosques in Tripoli and elsewhere in the country, where references to jihad are extremely rare, in Benghazi and Derna they are fairly frequent subjects.”
A story of weaponized Salafism resulting in “blowback” doesn’t put asses in movie theater seats, though. It’s actually just about the most unpopular story there is—just ask Jeremiah Wright (Still, Reverend, please reply to me about my screenplay, God Damn America). However, this all happened in the run-up to the 2012 election, when any news story was subject to being mashed through one of two partisan sluices.
Rallying around the President and against their hated Republican uncles on Facebook, liberals declared that there was absolutely no story to be told, and any intimation otherwise was hilarious on its face. Smelling another shot at impeachment after Obummer produced that birth certificate, reactionaries quickly declared it a matter of existential national importance, spinning it off into stories about rescue planes sitting on tarmacs and Hillary Clinton’s fake concussion. With an American national disgrace as the crime, and a dubious story about a spontaneous anti-hate film demonstration providing the cover-up, the Benghazi scandal as it’s currently understood was born.
Into this melee steps Michael Bay, a filmmaker who elicits Benghazi-like reactions. Naturally, since Benghazi is so thoroughly coded the domain of the right, and Bay’s movies are so throbbingly patriotic, it’s tempting to see the attraction as something Republican. However, Bay is less a traditional patriot than a maximalist, so if the biggest, most explosive political event is the Benghazi consulate attack, then Michael Bay’s Benghazi will see America in 2016. Continue reading