Facing federal court, Appleton is given a prepared confession and a chance to accuse someone else to slide himself out of trouble, but he finds he can’t deliver the speech because it isn’t true. Instead, with prison looming, he stands up to the inquisitors, reminding them of the thousands of people who’ve recently been killed or physically and emotionally maimed defending the rights that define the United States. He refuses to sully those rights since to do so disrespects their sacrifice. He cites the five freedoms guaranteed by the First Amendment to the American Constitution: speech, religion, the press, assembly, and petition and walks out of court, defying the officials, almost daring them to invent reasons to detain him. In the film, he’s a true patriot and the Constitution holds firm.
The accusations in the film’s courtroom echo speeches we hear today that isolate and denigrate particular populations or trample hard-won rights. Again, those who speak against violations of those rights are threatened with ruin and/or imprisonment. The striking difference is that the fictional residents of the town in MAJESTIC celebrate the one who stands up for them and their lost loved ones. Today in reality, the majority of Americans voted for changes that currently lean toward fascism and mock those who espouse personal freedoms.
Another film that shines a powerful light on the repercussions of fascism is loosely based on the true story of Jonathan Safran Foer: EVERYTHING IS ILLUMINATED. In searching for the woman who saved his Ukrainian grandfather from the Nazis, Jonathan confronts the human consequences to an unacknowledged Jewish survivor—survivor’s guilt, lost love, recurrent madness, persistent denial, and a hopeless need for homecoming to a village community that was slaughtered. It’s a story of descendants seeking compassion and empathy for their ancestors. It’s a story of confronting who you are and whether you’ve earned the ancestral suffering that made your life possible.
And so the question arises: what will we want our descendants to understand about the humor and drama of the choices we make today? What do we hope to preserve for them? What do we wish to end here?
