‘Stop all these wars now’ says Oscar winner | Arts and Culture
Oscar winner Pavel Talankin called for ‘an end to all wars’ as he received the best documentary award for “Mr Nobody Against Putin”.
Published On 16 Mar 2026
Oscar winner Pavel Talankin called for ‘an end to all wars’ as he received the best documentary award for “Mr Nobody Against Putin”.
Published On 16 Mar 202616 Mar 2026
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We’re in the early weeks of Lent, the 40 days when Christians are called to rededicate themselves to good — and the Trump administration seems to be having a good time making its war with Iran seem like a bunch of tweens playing a game of “Call of Duty.”
Where Jesus called on believers to go through life as meekly as possible, the White House keeps pumping out social media posts mixing footage of American forces blowing up the Iranian regime with everything from SpongeBob SquarePants to Iron Man to “Grand Theft Auto.” While Proverbs warned “every one that is proud in heart is an abomination to the Lord,” Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth — who loves to flash his bad tattoos that reference the Crusades — gives superlative-drenched speeches on the supposed glories of this war that make him sound more bloodthirsty than Count Dracula.
Even though Christ mandated that people not loudly pray in public “like the hypocrites,” President Trump gladly let a gaggle of pastors lay hands over him in the Oval Office this week as one intoned God “continue to give our President the strength that he needs to lead our nation as we come back to one nation under God.”
Which God: Yahweh or Trump?
During last month’s National Prayer Breakfast, the president bragged that because of him, “religion’s back now hotter than ever before.” Perhaps the most un-Christian man to ever serve as commander in chief has continually wrapped himself in the mantle of Jesus — and too many Christians have ignored the Good Book’s repeated warnings against false prophets and cheered him on.
Flannery O’Connor could have written an entire novel on Christian hucksters just from Year One of the second coming of the Trump administration.
As the Iran war ratchets up with no end in sight, this devotion to Trump is veering into idolatry.
Pastor Greg Laurie — most famous for holding Harvest Crusade revivals in Southern California for the past generation — wrote online that Trump’s Iran campaign “is cause for us to sit up and pay attention” because he feels it lines up with End Times prophecy about the Middle East descending into war just before the Second Coming. The nonprofit Military Religious Freedom Foundation revealed it has received hundreds of complaints from troops about their superiors claiming that what’s going on is biblically ordained.
Meanwhile, South Carolina U.S. Sen. Lindsey Graham told reporters that what’s happening “is a religious war” that “will set the course of the Middle East for a thousand years” — the exact time period that the Book of Revelation stated Christ will reign until Satan returns. Some Trump supporters have even compared their savior to Cyrus the Great, the Persian king who freed the Israelites from the yolk of the Babylonians and of whom the Book of Isaiah called God’s “anointed” and would “subdue nations before him and to strip kings of their armor.”
The Bible is not all kumbaya. But from the Old Testament to the New, it consistently preaches for the faithful to humble themselves, to help the poor and downtrodden. Trump’s version of Christianity instead preaches no mercy for those against him, demands followers exalt him above everything, celebrates the gaudy instead of the godly.
This Lent is magnifying his apostasy like never before.
Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth and Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff Gen. Dan Caine speak during a press briefing at the Pentagon on Wednesday in Washington.
(Konstantin Toropin / Associated Press)
It’s a time to fast from our excesses; Trump continues to push forth a White House redesign that will make the Palace of Versailles look as flashy as a mud hut. Those of us who partake in Lent are asked to repent of our sins; Trump is doubling down on them like they’re McDonald’s fries. We are supposed to reflect on our wrongdoings and ask for forgiveness from the Almighty and those we wronged — has Trump ever done that?
We’re also supposed to practice almsgiving and assist those less fortunate than ourselves as a way of honoring Christ, who pointed out that giving so it costs you is the only way to give. Trump has always brayed that he’s ultimately looking out for the common man — but instead of helping the millions of people whom his economy was already leaving behind before the Iran campaign, he’s shrugging off their woes and asking Americans to buckle up and weather price spikes and simply believe in him.
Or is that Him?
Conservative Christian leaders have continually landed on the wrong side of American history, from slavery to imperialism, Jim Crow to women’s rights. That’s why it’s not surprising — but still disappointing — that a Pew Research Center poll released earlier this year found 69% of white evangelicals think Trump has done a good job. Fifty-two percent of white Catholics feel the same, compared with just 23% of Latino Catholics, even though Pope Leo XIV has consistently decried American foreign and domestic policy.
Lent also is the time that Christians remember that the pain of Christ’s death leads to the hope that is Easter. That’s why for this Lent, may Christians repent of Trump like never before.
War has always been a time for propaganda, of demonizing the enemy and pumping up your side. It is a sad, tragic affair, with death and carnage and endless mourning. Children die. War is not a thing to be celebrated, even if it were necessary. And there’s a big if around this latest one, even if Ayatollah Ali Khamenei deserved his downfall and Iranians in their country and abroad rightfully celebrate.
But history’s greatest warriors know — to quote the conclusion of the Oscar-winning biopic “Patton” — that glory is fleeting. Trump, Hegseth and their ilk are not them. They are the men that Psalms asked God to deliver us from, the warmongers who “imagine mischiefs in their heart” and “continually” seek violence. To see how this administration and its supporters are preening right now reminds me of what Johnny Cash once sung: sooner or later, God‘s gonna cut you down.
Let’s just hope the rest of us are spared when that happens. If you pray, please do. (And not to Trump).
WASHINGTON — For a decade, President Trump promised to end what he calls forever wars, casting himself as a leader opposed to prolonged conflicts in the Middle East and who would rather pursue peace in the world.
Now, early in his second term, Trump is taking military action against Iran that could expand well beyond a limited effort to halt the country’s nuclear program.
In a video posted on Truth Social, the commander-in-chief said American forces also plan to “raze their missile industry to the ground” and “annihilate their navy.” He warned members of Iran’s military to surrender or “face certain death.” And urged the Iranian people to take the moment as an opportunity to rise up against their government.
“This regime will soon learn that no one should challenge the strength and might of the United States armed forces,” Trump said.
Trump, who has been considering a strike on Iran for several weeks, acknowledged he reached the decision to attack while aware of the human toll that could come with it.
“The lives of courageous American heroes may be lost, and we may have casualties. That often happens in war,” he said. “But we are doing this, not for now, we are doing this for the future, and it is a noble mission.”
Trump’s military campaign in Iran is a sharp turn in tone for a president who has long been critical of open-ended conflicts in the Middle East, and marks a shift from an America-first agenda message that helped him return to the White House.
“I’m not going to start a war. I’m going to stop wars,” Trump said in his November 2024 victory speech as he promised to focus national resources on domestic priorities rather than foreign conflicts.
As Trump advocated to bring home American forces from deployments around the world and to withdraw from key defense treaties, his position resonated with a war-weary electorate in the lead up to the election.
Fewer than six in 10 Americans (56%) believed the United States should take an active role in world affairs ahead of the election — the second-lowest level recorded since the question was first asked in 1974, according to polling by the Council on Foreign Affairs.
Trump’s posture on war in the Middle East had been consistent before he ran for office.
In 2013, he criticized former President Obama’s negotiations with Tehran, predicting in a post on Twitter, that Obama would “attack Iran because of his inability to negotiate properly.” That same year, Trump warned that “our horrendous leadership could unknowingly lead us into World War III.”
And in a heated February 2016 debate, Trump attacked former Florida Gov. Jeb Bush, stating that his brother George W. Bush lied about Iraq’s nuclear capabilities to get the U.S. into the Iraq War. Trump called the Iraq War a “big, fat mistake” that “destabilized the Middle East.”
“They lied. They said there were weapons of mass destruction. There were none, and they knew there were none,” he said.
Trump’s confrontation with Iran bears little resemblance to those early rebukes.
Trump has yet to present evidence of an imminent threat to the United States from Iran’s nuclear program — a capability he claimed to have “obliterated” just eight months ago — and has instead framed the military campaign as one to ensure Tehran never develops nuclear weapon at all.
“It is a very simple message,” he said. “They will never have a nuclear weapon.”
Trump’s shift has already drawn the attention of congressional Democrats, many of whom are calling the president out for backing out on his promise to end foreign wars — and are demanding that he involve Congress in any further military actions.
“Regardless of what the President may think or say, he does not enjoy a blank check to launch large-scale military operations without a clear strategy, without any transparency or public debate, and not without Congressional approval,” Sen. Alex Padilla (D-Calif.) said.
Sen. Adam Schiff (D-Calif.) criticized Trump for “drawing the country into yet another foreign war that Americans don’t want and Congress has not authorized.”
The military involvement in Iran is not the first time that members of Congress have complained about the Trump administration’s willingness to sideline the legislative branch on decisions that could trigger broader conflicts this year.
In January, Trump ordered military forces to capture former Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro and said the United States would run the sovereign nation until further notice. He threatened military action in Colombia, whose leftist President Gustavo Petro has been one of Trump’s most vocal critics.
Trump has alienated allied nations when he said he was willing to send American troops to seize Greenland, a semi-autonomous territory of Denmark. And on Friday, he said U.S. is in talks with Havana and raised the possibility of a “friendly takeover of Cuba” without offering any details on what he meant.
His actions have coincided with his annoyance at not being awarded the Nobel Peace Prize for his efforts to seek peace in the world. At one point, the president said he no longer felt an “obligation to think purely of Peace” because he didn’t get the recognition.
Trump’s shifting tone, and his use of violent war imagery in his pretaped remarks about Iran, have rattled even part of his base.
“I did not campaign for this. I did not donate money for this,” said former Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene, a conservative who recently left Congress after a bitter fight with Trump. “This is not what we thought MAGA was supposed to be. Shame!”
Republican leaders, however, are largely standing behind the president.
Senate Majority Leader John Thune (R-S.D.) said Iran “posed a clear and unacceptable threat” to the United States and has refused “the diplomatic off-ramps.” House Speaker Mike Johnson (D-La.) said Trump took the action after exhausting “every effort to pursue peaceful and diplomatic solutions.”
Other top Republican lawmakers rallied behind the president, too.
“The butcher’s bill has finally come due for the ayatollahs,” Sen. Tom Cotton, the chairman of the Senate Intelligence Committee, wrote in a post on X. “May God bless and protect our troops on this vital mission of vengeance, and justice, and safety.”
Book Review
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“That’s my pot dealer!” exclaimed Michelle Phillips in a crowded movie theater in 1977. Months earlier, the Mamas & the Papas singer had only known Harrison Ford as a stoner-carpenter with a few bit parts to his credit. Now he was Han Solo in “Star Wars,” directed by a young upstart, George Lucas. Clearly the world was changing.
How much, though? Conventional wisdom about the Hollywood renaissance of the ‘60s and ‘70s suggests that starting with “Bonnie and Clyde” and “Easy Rider,” a batch of emerging auteurs shook the studios out of a rut and transformed American film. There’s plenty of truth to that: Francis Ford Coppola’s shift in 10 years from a director-for-hire on an old-hat musical, “Finian’s Rainbow,” to the auteur behind “Apocalypse Now” is just one of the era’s most remarkable achievements.
A pair of new books, though, suggest that the overall shift was only so modest, ultimately shoring up not just the old-school studio system but the social norms the interlopers were supposed to be upending.
Paul Fischer’s lively history of the new wave of California directors, “The Last Kings of Hollywood,” concentrates on Lucas, Coppola and Steven Spielberg. (New York contemporaries like Martin Scorsese and Brian De Palma are present but relatively off-screen.) Fischer has a gift for highlighting the ways that moments that we now accept as inevitable were often the product of dumb luck, pyrrhic victories and tough decisions. Coppola made “The Godfather” out of financial desperation, averse to adapting a mob novel; Spielberg’s “Jaws” was beset with mishaps, from a foolhardy attempt to train a real shark to its malfunctioning mechanical one; only when Lucas learned that the rights to Flash Gordon were unavailable did he pursue a space-opera concept all his own.
Their brashness and can-do spirit were worth cheering for: As the trio delivered films that broke box office records — ”The Godfather,” “American Graffiti,” “Jaws” and more — there were reasons to believe that big-budget films could operate outside the studio system. Lucas in particular was driven as much by resentment of the old as passion for the new. He never forgot how Warner Bros. manhandled his debut feature, “THX 1138” and was driven to muscle “Graffiti” into existence to spite the suits who said he couldn’t. In 1969, Coppola and Lucas launched their own studio, American Zoetrope, in San Francisco, with a passel of scripts in progress (including “Apocalypse Now” and “The Conversation”) and a $300,000 investment from Warner Bros. But Coppola wasn’t much of a businessman, and he had an easier time putting the office’s fancy espresso machine to work than the suite of state-of-the-art editing bays: “He ran his business like he ran a film set — on vibes,” Fischer writes.
A decade later, both Coppola and Zoetrope would declare bankruptcy, and he would split with Lucas, who’d used the success of “Star Wars” to cut his own path as a Hollywood kingmaker via his own production company, Lucasfilm. It allowed him to indulge his love of classic cliffhanger serials, and he tapped Spielberg to direct “Raiders of the Lost Ark.” But Fischer frames Lucas’ career arc as a disappointment, despite all those dollar figures — Lucas wanted to return to artsier “THX”-style fare, but needed cash flow. “If George was ever going to be independent from Hollywood, he thought he wouldn’t get there by making abstract mood poems,” Fischer writes. By the ‘80s, with two “Star Wars” sequels done, Lucas was out of the mood-poem business entirely.
While “Last Kings” focuses exclusively on directors’ relationship to movie economics, Kirk Ellis’ “They Kill People” considers “Bonnie and Clyde” and the New Hollywood from a variety of angles — filmmaking, the social turmoil of the ‘60s, America’s complex relationship with outlaws in general and guns in particular. It’s a meaty yet accessible book that captures the lightning-in-a-bottle nature of the generation’s ur-text, capturing the unlikely nature of its creation and the somewhat dodgy nature of its legacy.
“Bonnie” was such a provocation — nakedly, almost giddily violent — that its studio, Warner Bros, all but willed it not to exist. It was given a shoestring budget, was mocked by studio chief Jack Warner (who sarcastically referred to director Arthur Penn and producer-star Warren Beatty as “the geniuses”), and initially released largely in Southern drive-ins. “They figured the redneck kids would like the guns,” Penn said.
Everybody liked the guns. A few scolding critics lamented the film’s violence, especially its then-shocking bloody finale, but Beatty and co-star Faye Dunaway were deeply seductive onscreen. (Ellis notes that the two are always the best-dressed characters in the film.) And its outlaw sensibility resonated with young audiences in the late‘60s. Moreover, writes Ellis (a historical-drama screenwriter best known for “John Adams”), it represented the culmination of decades of American culture that equated American gun culture with freedom — a notion that would’ve baffled the founding fathers, who dwelled little on gun-rights matters in the Federalist Papers and other constitutional drafting documents, but gained traction thanks to gun manufacturers. “In the printed legend of American history, guns and freedom have become synonymous,” Ellis writes, but it was a new legend — stoked in part by “Bonnie and Clyde” — not America’s origin story.
It’d be a mistake to reduce the New Hollywood to the filmmakers highlighted by these two books — though, focused as they are on white men, they echo the way women and people of color were largely shut out of the system, or relegated to more marginal blaxploitation work. Artists looking to operate outside the system have plenty of inspiration to draw from in the ‘70s. Yet the books also expose how commerce does what it always does — take provocations and sand the edges off of them, then look for ways to make them profitable. In the early ‘80s, a decade after Coppola and company stormed the barricades, Paramount chief Michael Eisner shared a fresh and contradictory vision, such as it was: “We have no obligation to make history. We have no obligation to make art. We have no obligation to make a statement. To make money is our only objective.”
It would take another decade — and auteurs on the East Coast — to launch another attack on that sensibility, via films like “Do the Right Thing” and “sex, lies, and videotape.” They would help usher in the Miramax era — but that’s another story, with its own problematic twists.
Athitakis is a writer in Phoenix and author of “The New Midwest.”