COUNCIL-OF CONCERNED-CONSERVATIONISTS…..Between Jest And Earnest…..

MRS. BEGONIA’S HOLLYWOOD VACATION

—California Dreamin’. Someone Else’s Script.

HOLLYWOOD WAS ALWAYS A PSYOP

(“If the word “psyop” sounds suspiciously like one of those words invented by the Internet, I sympathize. I felt exactly the same way—until Mr. Freeman began his presentation.”)

Mrs. Begonia Contretemps had scarcely returned from her latest American assignment when John St. Evola greeted her with an unusually sympathetic expression.

“Begonia,” he said, “the Council has been discussing your workload.”

“Oh dear.”

“Quite the opposite. We all agree you’ve earned some time off.”

“A holiday?”

“Sure, a genuine real holiday.”

“No mysterious industrial clusters?”

“Umm. . . maybe.”

“No hidden civilizations?”

“Eh, you’ll find out.”

He slid a colourful Hollywood tourist brochure across his desk.

“I’ve arranged a pleasant sightseeing tour of Hollywood.”

Mrs. Begonia’s face lit up.

“The Hollywood Sign? The Chinese Theatre!”

“Yeah, Certainly.”

She sighed happily. “How delightful.”

“There is only one small detail.”

“I knew there would be.”

“Mason Freeman has kindly volunteered to serve as your guide.”

Mrs. Begonia closed her eyes.

“John. . . !”

“Yes?”

“Define ‘holiday.’”

THE HOLLYWOOD SIGN

The holiday lasted exactly seven minutes. As they reached the overlook Mrs. Begonia searched excitedly for the famous white letters. Curiously, from where they stood, only one word was especially prominent.

HO. . .OD—Hood

“How disappointing,” she laughed. I’ve travelled across America only to see the hood.”

Mason smiled.

“An interesting word, hood.”

“Oh no.”

“ If you’re thinking the hood of an automobile? No.

“Maasoonn. . .”

“It’s the hood over something one does not immediately see.”

Mrs. Begonia folded her arms.“We’re going to be lifting metaphorical hoods all day, aren’t we?”

“I regret to say so.”

Then Mason stopped walking.

“Mrs. Contretemps, permit me my opening statement.”

“I was afraid of this.”

“I submit that Hollywood was not merely a motion-picture industry. It was, from remarkably early on, an industry increasingly interested in manufacturing states of mind.”

Mrs. Begonia laughed.

“We haven’t even reached the souvenir stand. And already you’ve discovered a conspiracy.”

“I prefer the word hypothesis.”

“I prefer the word vacation.”

Exhibit, Hood: UCLA’s 2024 Hollywood Diversity Report found that actors of color filled 51% of lead roles in the top streaming films studied—a record high.

GRAUMAN’S CHINESE THEATRE

“Mr. St. Evola insists it has only just occurred to him that my assignments have become rather Hitchcockian. I suspect this revelation came several expeditions too late. Perhaps he has watched the Alfred Hitchcock biopic The Girl once too often.”

Mrs. Begonia wandered happily among the famous handprints.

“There is something rather charming about all this. It celebrates personalities.”

“Quite.”

She turned toward Mason.

“Whose handprints would you most like to see?”

“Carl Laemmle.”

She blinked.

“He surely stepped in it.”

“ He most certainly did. He left his footprint all over Hollywood.”

Mrs. Begonia groaned.

“You’ve done it again.”

“Done what?”

“Turned a tourist attraction into a lecture.”

Mason smiled.

“Permit me an Exhibit.”

“Oh splendid.”

“Hollywood quickly discovered that audiences could become emotionally attached to personalities on a massive scale.”

Mrs. Begonia shrugged.

“So did the theatre before it.”

“Exactly.” Mason smiled. Hollywood industrialised it.”

Mrs. Begonia looked suspiciously at his leather satchel.

“You’re carrying documents, aren’t you?”

“A few.”

“I feared as much.”

THE HOME OF L. FRANK BAUM

Mrs. Begonia looked puzzled.

“I hadn’t expected this stop.”

“Most people don’t.”

Mason gestured toward the house.

“One of Hollywood’s early residents was already famous for creating imaginary worlds.”

“I had forgotten Baum lived here.”

“He came while Hollywood itself was still becoming Hollywood.”

Mrs. Begonia admired the quiet street.

“So before there were movie empires. . . There were storytellers.”

Mason nodded.

“Permit me another Exhibit.”

She sighed.

“Baum was sympathetic to the women’s suffrage movement, and many scholars have observed that the Oz books contain unusually capable female characters for their time.”

Mrs. Begonia considered this.

“Every author has opinions.”

“Precisely. The prosecution accepts that stipulation.”

She narrowed her eyes.

“I don’t recall agreeing to appear in court.”

“You aren’t. You are simply serving on the jury.”

“And your point? Stories carry ideas. They always have.”

“Exactly.”

“So before Hollywood employed psychologists. . .”

“It inherited storytellers.”

To whom it may concern: During Mr. Mason Freeman’s presentation, I suddenly realized something that had evidently been staring me in the face for years. Mr. Baum appears to have populated Oz with remarkably capable women and remarkably bewildered men. Even the great Wizard turns out to be something of a doofus/extraordinaire. I hesitate to jump to conclusions, but one does begin to suspect that Mr. Baum may have accidentally invented the modern American sitcom, where the women run the household and the men are principally employed as lovable oafs. One is left wondering whether this was the first shot fired in what has since become the long-running Campaign Against the Patriarchy.

UNIVERSAL STUDIOS

Instead of entering a sound stage, Mason disappeared into an archive.

When he returned he carefully unfolded an old magazine advertisement.

Mrs. Begonia recognised the name immediately.

Carl Laemmle.

“Permit me Exhibit One.”

She accepted the brittle specimen. It was an advertisement seeking a psychologist. She read it again. Then a third time :

“Well that’s curious…”

Mason waited.

“I wasn’t expecting that.”

“As far as I have been able to determine, this is the earliest documented advertisement showing a major Hollywood studio publicly seeking the services of a psychologist.”

Mrs. Begonia remained quiet.

Finally she looked up.

“So this part, at least. . . isn’t merely one of your theories.”

Mason smiled.

“No. This is documentary evidence.”

She handed back the advertisement.

“So why did Mr. Laemmle want a psychologist?”

Mason shook his head.

“My dear Mrs. Contretemps. . . That is not yet the interesting question.”

“What is?”

“Whom did he hire?”

THE ARCHIVE

Mrs. Begonia confidently guessed several famous psychologists. Each was wrong. Finally Mason quietly spoke the name.

“William Moulton Marston.”

“The creator of Wonder Woman?”

“The very same.”

“I thought he simply wrote comic books.”

“So does almost everyone.”

Mason placed several of Marston’s books and papers on the table.

“Permit me Exhibit Four.”

Mrs. Begonia began reading. The room became remarkably quiet. After several minutes she closed the final volume.

“Mason.”

“Yes?”

“I had sincerely hoped this would prove to be entirely one of your imaginative constructions.”

“So had I.”

She looked thoughtfully at the stack of documents.

“You’ve been trying all day to persuade me that Hollywood was interested in psychology from remarkably early on.”

“I have.”

“And you have been building your case one stop at a time.”

“I thought a jury should see the evidence before hearing the closing argument.”

Mrs. Begonia sighed.

“I shall never again trust John when he says I’ve earned a holiday.”

EPILOGUE

Driving away from Hollywood, Mrs. Begonia looked once more toward the famous hillside.

“John promised me a vacation.”

Mason nodded.

“I believe you had one.”

“I expected sunshine.”

“You had sunshine.”

“I expected movie stars.”

“You saw a few.”

“I did not expect documentary exhibits.”

Mason smiled.

“One must occasionally look beneath the hood.”

Mrs. Begonia glanced back toward the hills.

“I’m beginning to suspect that in America even holidays come with footnotes.”

The industry that once needed a psychologist to understand its audience had, by the Gulf War, learned exactly how to move it. “When Hollywood goes to war, America follows.” —Mason Freeman

“No museum visit with Mr. Freeman ever seems to end where one expects. At the door, he unveiled one final theory.”

“The basic thesis is hardly my own. I merely followed the pioneering researches of the late Professor Dick Rastley, whose wrote remarkable work on
narrative subversion and the true founders of Hollywood which has scandalized anyone who cared to notice.”

The complete dispatches of Mrs. Begonia Contretemps can be found : HERE

Mason Freeman’s BUNKED! Column can be discovered: HERE

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