That Vox is the new number one enemy of Spanish cinema we know from the week before the Goya. The controversy over his non-invitation to the gala and the subsequent disagreement about the need (or not) to treat the life and miracles of patriotic heroes like Blas de Lezo on the big screen, have focused on the cinematographic tastes of the formation of rights and, in particular, of its leader, Santiago Abascal. "Nothing happens, the Spaniards will continue to see Clint Eastwood, Mel Gibson or whoever is needed", manifested before the Goya
Tell me what cinema you see and I will tell you who you are. In that sense, to collect the personality of Vox, one should go to these two confessed Abascal references. But what do both directors and actors have to attract Vox's attention and praise? To get started, they are two filmmakers against the grain of the dominant ideology in Hollywood, a democratic bastion in general that, in recent years, has also embraced all sorts of causes, say "good guys": integration, diversity, the defense of minorities …
Both Eastwood and Gibson are known for their kamikaze tendency to amend the flat to the preponderant thinking of American industry. The director of "Million Dollar Baby" is known for his support of the Republicans, from Nixon to Bush, to, oh God, Donald Trump: he said he preferred it to Clinton even though he "says a lot of nonsense". From his time as an actor in "Harry the Dirty" he has been branded a fascist. His cinema behind the camera demonstrates his independence of criteria and a defense at all costs of the values of American individualism.
To top it off, he has played tricks in the epic story with tapes like "Flags of our fathers" and has directed films as unmoralizing as "The sniper". "First they call me a rightist, after a racist, now a macho one, it's fashionable to get people to feel guilty for different things.. I do not care, because I know in what fucking place on the planet I am and I do not give a damn, "he has come to declare, declarations that undoubtedly delight Abascal.
And what about Gibson? Well, the director of "The Passion of Christ" (and this would be all said) is the "enfant terrible" of Hollywood, as inside as outside, always on the wire. A rebel, an outlaw. He considers himself a catholic at all costs and even said that God marked the way in this controversial production. With "Braveheart" he extolled the patriotic epic of an individualist against the "establishment" and in "Apocalipto" sank his hands without any apriorism or perspectivism in pre-colonial America. It goes through the clapboard of any kind of compromise and disconcerts both the public and the American press that call it Marxist rather than fascist. Without going any further, he openly opposed the Iraq War. On him weigh more or less well-founded accusations of homophobia, sexist violence and abuse of alcohol. In addition, the Jewish community took up arms against him for "The Passion of the Christ".
In short, if there are two snipers with the rifle to burst of ammunition able to defend their heterodox opinions even at the expense of suspicion or ostracism in Hollywood, those are Eastwood and Gibson, the directors that Santiago Abascal prefers to see before "Champions" or "Superlopez".