The Sunday Telegraph - 11.08.2019

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18 ***^ Sunday 11 August 2019 The Sunday Telegraph

T


he growth of nepotism in
showbusiness has been one
of the most repulsive minor
cultural degradations of recent years.
Because showbiz was until recently
considered no better than it should
be, those with nothing to lose flocked
to it. Who could have predicted it
would become so respectable that
we’d reach a stage where the odd
successful working-class actor talks
sadly of how few of their fellows
there are? Rags-to-riches stories have
been replaced by riches-to-richer
stories and with the next generation
of celebrity spawn already smeared
all over the cultural landscape, it
shows no sign of stopping.
This being so, it seems drearily
appropriate that another smug and
unadventurous development –
remakes of films which are just a
decade or two old – is well under way.
Just as Marc Jacobs hiring Cindy
Crawford’s lookalike teenage daughter
as the face of his perfume may trigger
memories to be monetised, so
remaking one generation’s favourite
film may lead them to take their own
children to see it, instead of some
unknown quantity. We’ve already had

The Lion King – inflicting the season-
in-hell soundtrack that is Hakuna
Matata on a new generation – now
Disney has announced that Home
Alone will be “reimagined for a new
generation”.
The star of that film Macaulay
Culkin has himself thrown out a
suggestion, tweeting: “I hope the
Space Jam reboot kicks off a whole
slew of 80s/90s sports movie
remakes” but I’m pretty sure this
opinion isn’t shared by many who
won’t be expecting cameos in these
wretched projects. There’s a reason
why the third Home Alone only
narrowly lost out on the Golden
Raspberry Award for Worst Sequel to
Speed 2: Cruise Control in 1998 and
after that was good only for two
straight-to-TV features: people grew
weary of the same old same old.
It’s interesting that Culkin uses the
terms “remake” and “reboot”;
invariably the dullards behind these
projects think of themselves as
Rebooters, doing something cool and
techy and futuristic rather than mere
Remakers, with the make ’n’ mend
implications of dragging out some old
rag and zhushing it up a bit.

Reimaginers, of course, go to the top
of the pile; bringing their limitless
creativity to a project that seemed
definitive at the time. In fact, all three
are cultural rag-and-bone men.
It’s not just in films that this
tendency is so irritating; there was
much chatter about the latest Doctor
Who reboot but rather than
regenerate, each new incarnation
seems to degenerate by several
degrees. How ironic that after all that
fuss about the first female doctor and
how revolutionary it would be, the
show has become even more staid,
pious and PC. Sometimes the last
series seemed a spaced-up version
of Call The Midwife, with its
ceaseless empathising and woke
box-ticking; I’m sure that in two
decades’ time, someone at the
overpaid, underperforming
BBC-of-the-future will
have the bright idea of a
mash-up.
“Nobody knows
anything,” William
Goldman famously
said of Hollywood.
But that was why
Hollywood was

I’ll take old Hollywood’s magic over a new Home Alone


magic – a musical or a Western or a
cartoon could give more insight into
the human condition than any number
of pretentious plays. If you saw them


  • Gypsy or The Searchers or Bambi

  • before the hard carapace of
    adulthood had grown over you, they
    could make you see the world in a
    whole new way – even change the
    direction of your life. No one’s ever
    going to get that from a remake by
    people who know the price of
    everything and the value of nothing.
    Old Hollywood was without doubt a
    place of cynicism and corruption,
    where the casting couch was the norm
    and actors could be forced to make
    films they didn’t want to by their
    studios. But at its best it was as if the
    whoremongers, hustlers and con men
    who created and populated the place
    dug down deep inside themselves to
    find that little bit of magic. Just
    making the same films over and
    over, and thus robbing the culture
    of imagination and innovation,
    means that all that’s left is the
    cynicism and corruption. Make
    no mistake, this is decadence –
    no matter how cute and
    wholesome the subject matter.


JULIE BURCHILL


READ MORE at
telegraph.co.uk/
opinion

A

ny minute now,
somebody is going to
suggest that we need a
written constitution. This
will be presented as an
obvious solution to the
farrago currently dominating our
politics (or, at least, the media
coverage of it) which is, in truth, not a
constitutional crisis at all but simply a
national argument in which the losing
side refuses to accept defeat.
But nonetheless, the cry will go up,
as it does from time to time whenever
a particularly self-regarding
Westminster clique sees itself as being
marginalised: modern government
cannot be conducted on the informal,
makeshift basis that has ensured
Britain’s ability to adapt to changing
circumstances with great fluency for
centuries. We need a legally binding
document to clarify without ambiguity
the powers and responsibilities of
Parliament, the prime minister, the
Cabinet Office, blah, blah.
Whoever initiates the proposal this
time around will immediately receive
blanket coverage on the BBC, the
support of innumerable Guardian
columnists and the endorsement of
the Liberal Democrats. Given how

much time and energy we are
investing at the moment in trying to
define basic terms like “democracy”
and “parliamentary sovereignty”, even
quite sensible people might be
prepared to give it consideration.
Then again, perhaps enthusiasm for
this idea will be instantly mitigated by
recent events on the other side of the
Atlantic where the effects of just such
a document – with its historical
guarantee of the right to bear arms – is
having demonstrably catastrophic
consequences. The Second
Amendment to the US Constitution
was devised to protect the new-found
states against the danger of a coup by
federal government which was seen as
a form of proxy for the old colonial
ruler. It guaranteed the right of the
states to form militias and, as a
necessary corollary, of the people to
bear arms. It is an almost perfect
example of the danger embodied in a
written constitution – which is to say,
it froze the historical concerns of the
time in which it was written into the
unforeseeable future.
Of course, constitutions may be
amended – but only with great
difficulty. That’s the whole point. A
written constitution is not simply a
piece of legislation that may be
reversed by a further legislative act: it
is the basis for the legality of all acts of
government. In the US, not only has
the Second Amendment proved almost
impossible to amend or even
re-interpret (because of hugely
influential opposition from the gun
lobby and constitutional
traditionalists), but new amendments
which most progressives favour have
proved impossible to pass.
The most striking (although now
largely forgotten) example of this was
the 1972 Equal Rights Amendment,

which would have made
discrimination against women
unconstitutional. It was passed by the
Senate but did not succeed in being
ratified by the three quarters of states
required and so the US, home of the
modern feminist movement, never
succeeded in amending its
constitution to guarantee equality for
women. Meanwhile, Britain, accepting
the moral force of the case, passed
such legislation in the lifetime of one
parliament. Lesson: a document that
enshrines the sacred political and
cultural principles of the era in which
it is composed may not seem like such
a great idea a few generations (or even
decades) later. This difficulty would be
magnified exponentially at the present
moment when the question in hand is
so contentious. Any new constitutional
settlement now would simply be
regarded as a coup by one side or the
other in the Brexit controversy.
National constitutions are an attempt
to put the Enlightenment idea of a
social contract between government
and the people into literal form. That
is why they were adopted with such
alacrity by the revolutionary republics
of the 18th century, usually at seminal
points in their histories when there
was general agreement on the ideals
and objectives of the society that was
being born. We are, needless to say,
not at such a point. We cannot settle
our raging debate with a permanent
redefinition of governmental
functions: in the great British
democratic tradition, it will have to be
argued to exhaustion and whichever
side proves more convincing will win.
Having lived under both systems, I
promise you this is the better way.
Britain has found it remarkably easy in
the past to settle the great social
questions of the day such as abortion

Britain’s informal system of
power is far preferable to

the ‘right to bear arms’
mess of the US constitution

JANET DALEYEY


DIA CHAKRAVARTY


Posturing acts


will never solve


our green issues


L


ast week, it emerged
that the 5p plastic bag
charge, a Coalition-era
policy that the Lib Dems
proudly claim as a victory,
“might have actually
increased the overall
amount of plastic being
used”.
In a week rife with
examples of the law of
unintended consequences,
it was also reported that the
hyped “green drive” by
McDonald’s to shift from
recyclable plastic straws to
paper ones had backfired. It
turned out the new straws
were simply being put into
general waste. Private
companies, it seems, are just
as susceptible to a bit of
mindless green posturing as
our recent governments
have been.
In a note for the Political
Studies Association, Sir Ivor
Crewe summarised his
extensive research on why
so many government
policies “fail spectacularly”.
The eminent political
scientist identified
“ministerial hyper-activism”
as one of the behavioural
causes of government
blunders, noting, “Benign
neglect – the option of doing
nothing – is alien to the
modern culture of
Whitehall”.
It is hardly surprising that
in this political climate,
merely being seen to do
something – rather than a
hard-headed examination of
the potential impact – drives
far too many of our policies.
Nowhere does this
sentiment figure more
strongly than in
environmental rules and
legislation, where any
cynicism about a policy’s
likely success may be
equated with climate
change scepticism – or even
“denial” – by the
increasingly aggressive
green lobby.
Successive
administrations have
fallen into the trap of
committing in haste to
green regulations that not
only fail to achieve their
targets, but sometimes end

When laws get set in stone, the


repercussions can be never-ending


reform, gay rights, and, indeed, gun
control primarily because its
legislature can respond rapidly and
fluidly to changing attitudes without
an agonisingly slow (and inherently
conservative) constitutional
procedure.
So if it cannot be resolved by some
constitutional fiat, where does this
leave the Great National Argument? It
depends on how seriously you take its
increasingly hysterical tone. Of course,
a great deal of the noise from the
antagonists in the actual Brexit
negotiation is trash talk: the fighters
haven’t even got into the ring yet.
Maybe this really is a purblind march
toward apocalypse, dictated by the
vanity of national rulers, like the steps
that led to the First World War. But
probably not: the vulnerability of
elected governments will almost
certainly rule this out. Refusing to
re-open the Withdrawal Agreement
even after it has been rejected by the
UK Parliament three times is simply
too absurd a notion to sell to European
electorates who will have to pay the
price of no deal.
Meanwhile, here at home, the abuse
being thrown around is descending
into self-parody. Sir Nicholas Soames
has described Dominic Cummings as a
“functionary” who, like a child,
“should be seen and not heard”. And a
former Treasury official, Nick
Macpherson, has likened Mr
Cummings to Thomas Cromwell,
advising him that when public
servants engage in self-promotion and
believe their own myths, it “tends to
end badly”. I doubt that we will be
seeing Mr Cummings publicly
beheaded at the Tower but I am quite
sure that an awful lot of public figures
are going to make fools of themselves
before this is over.

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up causing more
environmental damage. Yet
our politicians stubbornly
refuse to learn their lesson.
Gordon Brown’s attempt
to fight pollution by
incentivising diesel cars
resulted in 12 million of the
vehicles on the road in 2017
compared with just three
million in 2000. A move
that was designed to protect
the environment from CO
emissions ended up
exposing it to nitrogen
oxides and other harmful
pollutants that are
associated with thousands
of premature deaths per
year, according to some
experts.
In an attempt to correct
this blunder, the very
people who were actively
encouraged to “dash for
diesel” are now being
penalised by tax rises.
One might’ve hoped that
this episode would have
alerted Mr Brown’s
successors to the dangers of
legislating without thinking
beyond the worthy-
sounding intended purpose
of an idea, to the unintended
consequences which
sometimes seem counter-
intuitive. Alas, the hope
remains unfulfilled.
Usually an advocate of
government inaction, I
make an exception for the
environment, where I
believe considered
intervention can be
beneficial. But time and
again politicians let us down
through their short-
sightedness, short-termism
and an irrepressible desire
to leave a mark. Instead of
pandering to a shrill lobby,
it is time they focused on
what actually delivers
results.
With the new
administration said to be
tearing up the old rule book
and writing a new one, dare
I hope for change?

READ MORE at
telegraph.co.uk/
opinion

FOLLOW Dia Chakravarty on
Twitter @DiaChakravarty;
READ MORE at
telegraph.co.uk/opinion

SUNDAY COMMENT

‘A document


that
enshrines the

sacred
principles of
the era in

which it is
composed
may not

seem like
such a great

idea a few
generations
later’

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