Spielberg, the Golden Globes or when Hollywood smells fear

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'The Fabelmans'

starts with a scene from

, the 1952 film by Cecil B. DeMille, and ends with a delirious and brilliant sequence in which none other than David Lynch plays nothing else and none other than John Ford.

"Where do you see the horizon in that painting?" the director of

' to a frightened young apprentice filmmaker.

In the image, an Indian appears seen from a low angle on a hill in Monument Valley.

"Down," replies the rookie.

"Where do you see the horizon in that other painting?" Repeats the director from his only exposed eye.

"Up", the questioned person now responds.

In this case, what is seen is the seventh cavalry harassed by the Apaches and sunk in a chasm.

"Remember to place the horizon above or below, in the middle is boring", is heard as a moral.

The entire autobiographical film (or almost) by

is a tribute to the cinema itself, to Hollywood and, hastening, to himself.

One would say that it has a lot to do with vindication, a desperate song, perhaps a farewell.

Of all that or -if it were a war against an enemy like the platforms, for example- of tolling.

The idea is none other than to draw attention to everything that made this strange art great, peculiar and eternal, which, as José Luis Cuerda would say,

.

This, in effect, is war.

Well, all of Hollywood seems to have realized that maybe, just maybe, their time is running out.

Once again.

It is not the first time something similar has happened.

And what happened at the Golden Globes is the best example of something so human, all too human, like

Not only has the cinema section chosen to reward the most conservative of all options, but the very staging of a gala that has quickly been associated with terms such as

has given full proof that, outside of scruples, what is at stake is something else.

Already the speech of the presenter

set the tone.

"One moment you are preparing mint tea at home, and the next you are invited to be the black face of an organization in trouble. Sometimes life goes that fast," he said after releasing the pearl, which was not clear if it was joke, that the main reason for his presence on stage was the

collected.

Suddenly, all the scandals disappear, they no longer count, and, two years later, when prizes like these -essentially racist, dishonest and corrupt- were believed to be a thing of the past, they reappear in all, or almost, their splendor.

Who said boycott?

Suddenly, and thanks to the intervention of the company that owns

magazine , what used to be a supposedly non-profit gala is now, and without the slightest hint of modesty,

No more jokes and good feelings.

What counts, what has always counted, is money.

And that's it.

If you look a little from a distance, rarely has a distribution of prizes been so calculated and precise in its vocation to please everyone in a manner that is as fair as it is transversal.

And exemplary, even.

Spielberg was there as a great godfather and reference and for him it was the greatest of glories as the best director responsible for the best dramatic film.

The second winner of the night,

by Martin McDonagh (awarded in the comedy, screenplay and actor section, Colin Farrell), also has much to claim for the purest talent since writing, from its earliest conception. handmade and perhaps essential.

That it runs in the most '

' Ireland imaginable adds points.

The two awards obtained by

' to two of its most recognized interpreters (Michelle Yeoh and the former '

' Ke Huy Quan) did nothing more than add equanimity to the required diversity.

And the same in what refers to Cate Blanchett ('

'), Angela Basset (

') and even Austin Butler ('

').

It would seem that from the biggest of the blockbusters with the Marvel label to the most celebrated of the independent films, going through the glorified films in the obligatory festivals, all found their place in a list of winners designed to

to show that the ranks are tight;

to make it clear that beyond moral qualms is, for example, a check for half a million dollars.

A call to rebuttal sounded and Hollywood squared off.

It smells scary.

According to the criteria of The Trust Project

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