Month: May 2022

Home / Month: May 2022

Dublin 6-15
Waterford 2-12

HANNAH TYRRELL MARKED her return to inter-county football in style this afternoon as the Irish rugby international hit 1-5, as reigning All-Ireland champions Dublin convincingly defeated Waterford in Parnell Park.

In a game that was dubbed a dress rehearsal for the championship, Dublin welcomed back Olwen Carey, Siobhan Killeen, and fresh from their endeavours in Australia, Lauren Magee and Niamh McEvoy.

Click Here: Inter Milan Jersey Sale

Waterford did get off to a quicker start and dominated early possession, Maria Delahunty hit one from play and converted a free. Early Dublin efforts skimmed wide of the post but they opened their account for 2021 with a Sinead Aherne free after Niamh Hetherton was fouled. 

As Dublin upped the intensity, Tyrrell proved her worth hitting four first-half points. The first was a beautiful effort after a long range exchange with Niamh Hetherton, and Tyrrell was again on the scoresheet twice more minutes later.

Aherne converted her second free from 30 yards before Lyndsey Davey opened up a six-point gap when she found the net after a sweeping team move involved Hetherton and Siobhan Killeen.

Hetherton’s first-half efforts were rewarded with with a point of her own, while returning Killeen and Tyrrell also pointed leaving nine points between the teams at the water break, 1-8 to 0-2. 

Michelle Davoren of Dublin in action against Laura Mulcahy, left, and Rebecca Casey of Waterford.

Making her senior debut, Abby Shiels was comfortable in goals while Orlagh Nolan and Leah Caffrey bolstered a Dublin defence that proved difficult to break. 

Dublin’s second goal began as a sweeping team move down field and with Aherne in an inch of space, the captain offloaded to Hetherton, the Clontarf player made no mistake finishing to the net to open up a 12-point lead. 

Waterford steadied their ship and Eimear Fennell (2) and Delahunty brought the Munster side back into contention. The teams traded scores before the break, with Aileen Wall finding space and Delahunty firing over from short range. However, a brace of Aherne frees ensured Dublin took a nine-point lead into half time, 2-10 to 0-7.

The third quarter was a tighter affair, although Dublin did have to cope with two separate yellow cards, Aoife Kane just before half-time and Caoimhe O’Connor before the second water break but it had little impact on the champions.

Aherne raised a green flag of her own when Hetherton found her in space and as the substitutions rolled in, the scoreboard continued to tick over. Aherne (3) and Tyrrell raised white flags while Delahunty and Kellyann Hogan converted for Waterford.

The game finished in a goal frenzy with five goals inside eight minutes. Orlagh Nolan and Tyrrell found the net for Dublin inside a minute, Aileen Wall and substitute Kate McGrath raised green flags for the visitors. Caoimhe O’Connor signed off on the win for Dublin when she converted from the penalty spot.

Scorers for Dublin: S Aherne 1-7 (0-5f), H Tyrrell 1-5, N Hetherton 1-1, O Nolan 1-0, L Davey 1-0, C O’Connor 1-0 (1-0 pen), L Collins 0-1, S Killeen 0-1.

Scorers for Waterford: M Delahunty 0-7 (0-4f), A Wall 1-1, K McGrath 1-0, E Fennell 0-2, C Fennell 0-1, K Hogan 0-1.

DUBLIN: A Shiels; O Nolan, L Caffrey, O Carey; M Byrne, A Kane, L Collins; L McGinley, H Tyrrell; C O’Connor, S McGrath, L Davey; N Hetherton, S Killeen, S Aherne (captain).

Be part
of the team

Access exclusive podcasts, interviews and analysis with a monthly or annual membership.

Become a Member

Subs: H Leahy for M Byrne (28), M Davoren for N Hetherton (42), L Magee for S McGrath (45), H O’Neill for S Killeen (45), J Egan for S Aherne (48), N McEvoy for H Tyrell (52), L Kane for O Nolan (55), C McGuigan for L McGinley (55), S Loughran for L Davey (55).

WATERFORD: M Foran; A Mullaney, L Mulcahy, R Casey; C Fennell, K McGrath, M Wall (captain); C McGrath, M Dunford; R Tobin, A Wall, K Hogan; E Fennell, M Delahunty, K Murray.

Subs: K McGrath for R Tobin (39), A Murray for E Fennell (46), L Cusack for A Mullaney (49), B McMaugh for K Hogan (49), N Power for M Wall (56), C McCarthy for C Fennell (56), R Dunphy for A Wall (56). 

Referee: Kevin Phelan (Laois) 

The42 is on Instagram! Tap the button below on your phone to follow us!

IN THE 50th minute of Sunday afternoon’s game, Páidí Fitzpatrick was summoned to the sideline at Semple Stadium.

The Clare defender gestured with his fist as he ran off, saluting David McInerney who was coming on as a replacement. The message was clear.

He had put in a huge shift to help establish a winning platform for his team as they were nine points clear.

Now the focus shifted to supporting the rest of the team as they attempted to finish the job.

Ultimately Clare were successful by four points. It was a victory to savour for their team to kick-start the 2021 ambitions but for Fitzpatrick it held a deeper meaning, this was an experience that he had waited some time to share in.

A first senior championship start for Clare at 30 years of age, seven weeks shy from his 31st birthday.

It was almost 13 years exactly, since he had previously started a championship game of any description for a Clare team.

On 25 June 2008 he featured in a Munster minor semi-final against Tipperary.

On 27 June 2021 he featured in a Munster senior quarter-final against Waterford.

It was a notable journey from one point to the other. His maiden competitive senior appearance for Clare arrived on Sunday 1 March last year. He acquitted himself well in a nine-point league win over Dublin in Ennis but any aspirations for channelling that momentum were soon wrecked. The country shut down 11 days later and the pandemic ripped up everyone’s plans.

Source: Bryan Keane/INPHO

Well done to Paidi Fitzpatrick who made his competitive debut for Clare in the National Hurling league versus Dublin in Ennis at the weekend. Joined by club mate Cathal Malone as the other wing back. #clareseniors #paidifitz #sixmilebridgegaa https://t.co/J9WwzPxMYT pic.twitter.com/CRAwWBSiRE

— Sixmilebridge (@SMBClare) March 2, 2020

When the 2020 inter-county programme of games resumed, Fitzpatrick made the bench for Clare’s four winter outings. He got pushed into the action in Portlaoise last November, a championship milestone arriving in the 60th minute of their triumph over Wexford.

2021 brought league starts against Wexford and Dublin before the big chance arrived on Sunday. He seized it, blotting out the threat of Waterford’s Jack Fagan to announce himself on the senior stage.

“It’s an amazing story,” admits Syl O’Connor, the Clare FM GAA commentator and Sixmilebridge club-mate of Fitzpatrick.

“Páidí would have been looked upon as one of the best man-markers in the county at club level. No question about that.

“Some of his greatest battles were marking Conor McGrath, when he was in his prime. The ‘Bridge and Cratloe were very prominent for a period, playing each other. Conor was one of the top players, Páidí always got the task of marking Conor.

“He probably has a unique style as well, he’s a real man-marker. He’d probably never run 100 yards and pop it over the bar. But the man that’s on him, won’t do that easily either.

“He’s a massive player from the ‘Bridge point of view. Very influential and very well got with the team.”

Back in 2008 he moved from club underage ranks to fill the centre-back spot for the Clare minor hurlers in a team powered by the inside attacking duo of McGrath and Darach Honan. It was a campaign where they made a rousing start by beating Cork but were then knocked out by Tipperary.

Fitzpatrick was on the fringes of the county U21 squad in 2010 and 2011 without ever managing to break into the first fifteen.

Then followed a long spell away from the inter-county game yet his hurling never declined. He focused on his work with the club and prospered.

When Sixmilebridge lifted the Canon Hamilton Cup last September, it ensured Fitzpatrick would pick up his fifth Clare senior hurling medal since 2013. He had started in all five final wins, captaining them in 2017, while covering a range of positions including full-back, wing-back, midfield and centre-forward.

Source: Lorraine O’Sullivan/INPHO

In his homeplace they appreciated his worth as a golden age for the club was enjoyed.

“I’d often think of the example of Shane Prendergast in Kilkenny,” says O’Connor.

“Came in the first year and won the All-Ireland (in 2015), he was captain the next year for the All-Ireland and was gone the following year. He was 29 when he came in.

“Look, everybody would be surprised to see you make your senior championship debut at 30 years of age. There’s no doubt about that. But you’d have to look at it and say, how did that happen?

“I think he’s come into the scene now, based on the type of player that I believe Brian Lohan looks for. Big men and trying to get power into the team. Páidí has fallen into the category then of making his championship debut at 30 years of age.

“That half-back line is a massive unit with himself, John Conlon and Diarmuid Ryan. The size of Páidí is a big plus and his man-marking ability.”

Playing club hurling at an elite level gave him a strong grounding, to the fore for a dominant side in Clare, then testing himself in Munster against heavyweights like Na Piarsaigh and Ballygunner.

His older brother Stiofan was midfield on the Clare minor team that lifted the All-Ireland crown at the expense of Clare in 1997. His father PJ has been a club coach of renown in the county, a long-serving principal in Clonlara National School where he was one of the early influences in the hurling careers of current Clare stalwarts Colm Galvin and John Conlon.

Cathal McInerney and Páidí Fitzpatrick in the 2019 Clare county senior final.

Source: Lorraine O’Sullivan/INPHO

Fitzpatrick spent some time travelling as well, switching careers around 2016 from chartered accountancy to mobile and web development.

On the day of the 2019 All-Ireland hurling final, he was lining out at Treasure Island in San Francisco to help Na Fianna win the senior hurling final against the Tipperary club. Wolfe Tones player Rory Hayes was a team-mate that day, now they are both part of the Clare defensive unit.

And this week they’ve a Munster semi-final to prepare for.

Back in 2006, Munster’s U16 inter-divisional hurling tournament culminated with East Clare pipping Mid Tipperary by a point in the final. Páidí Fitzpatrick was on the winning side, Noel McGrath on the losing team. Given their general positioning, they’re likely to renew acquaintances on the pitch next Sunday.

McGrath’s inter-county career exploded to life after that game 15 years ago, Fitzpatrick’s has taken a bit longer to take flight.

“It’s unusual nowadays to be starting so late,” admits O’Connor.

“But then again there’s nothing unusual nowadays about a fella blazing a trail of glory at 18 or 19 and then he’s gone. Maybe for a change, it’ll go the other way for a while.

“He stuck at it. The worst thing you can do is stand beside Páid Fitzpatrick, you’d only be looking up at him. He’s a massive lad.

“And if there’s a job to be done on the hurling pitch, he’ll do it.”

– First published 06.00, 29 June

The42 is on Instagram! Tap the button below on your phone to follow us!

Click Here: highlanders rugby jersey

MORE IRISH PLAYERS have earned new Australian Football League Women’s [AFLW] contracts as the focus switches to next season.

Mayo and Cavan stars Sarah Rowe and Aishling Sheridan have committed their immediate future to Collingwood, putting pen to paper in recent days.

Yesterday, Rowe was one of six players to have a new deal announced, signing on until 2023. The 25-year-old recently completed her third AFLW campaign, playing seven goals across an injury-hampered season, while kicking one goal.

Having undergone shoulder surgery as the curtain came down on the 2021 season, Rowe stayed on in Australia to rehabilitate, missing the Green and Red’s league campaign. The Kilmoremoy forward returned to home soil in recent days, though, so the race is now on for her championship involvement.

Her immediate focus will be on Gaelic games matters, though her new two-year deal will see her head back Down Under afterwards to continue to “live the best of both worlds,” as she so often says.

Sheridan’s status of being on a two-year deal was also confirmed this morning, as she officially penned a contract extension until 2023.

The Mullahoran ace lit up the AFLW last season, enjoying a stunning individual campaign with goals almost every week as she established herself as one of the Pies’ main forwards in her second year at the club.

24-year-old Sheridan has been back in Ireland for some time now, returning to inter-county duty with Cavan through their Division 2 league campaign, as they now prepare for an Ulster championship meeting with Donegal.

Elsewhere, Rowe’s Mayo countywoman Aileen Gilroy has re-signed for North Melbourne.

Gilroy in action for North Melbourne.

Source: AAP/PA Images

One of 24 players retained from the Kangaroos 30-strong 2021 AFLW list, Gilroy sparkled once again in her second season and has subsequently been rewarded with a longer stay.

The 28-year-old has excelled in Australia of late and has been touted as “one of the most exciting Irish talents” over there, though has opted out of the Mayo ladies football set-up for 2021. 

A former underage soccer international with Ireland, the Killala native missed most of the 2019 ladies football season with a devastating cruciate injury, before announcing her comeback with a stellar debut season Down Under.

She returned to line out in the Green and Red’s midfield last autumn, but has decided against it this time around.

“Aileen’s not one to half-arse anything,” as manager Michael Moyles recently said. “The last year or two, she’s struggled with it so she needs to take a year to get things around her. And that’s fine, no problem.”

  • Tipp’s Premiership champion O’Dwyer among Irish stars returning to AFLW next season 

Tipperary’s Premiership champion Orla O’Dwyer, Melbourne’s Dublin duo Sinéad Goldrick and Lauren Magee, and Adelaide Crows’ Ailish Considine have all had their respective returns for the 2021/22 season confirmed in recent days, with further announcements expected.

Be part
of the team

Access exclusive podcasts, interviews and analysis with a monthly or annual membership.

Become a Member

The42 understands that several other Irish players — 14 were involved in the 2021 season — are on two-year contracts, and will return for another campaign. 

The league is set to expand over the coming seasons, with the 2022 edition — season six –  due to begin in December 2021 and the Grand Final to be held in mid-March, before the men’s season begins. The competition will increase from nine rounds to 10, plus three weeks of finals.

Over the past few years, the AFLW campaign opened in late January and ran until mid-April, allowing for the Irish contingent — much of whom play inter-county ladies football — to return to these shores for the tail end of the league and for the entire TG4 All-Ireland championship.

Covid-hit 2020 aside, they normally travelled Down Under in October/November for pre-season, so it’s expected that will be earlier this coming autumn, throwing up the potential of code clashes.

Click Here: Italy soccer tracksuit

REIGNING CORK SENIOR hurling kingpins Blackrock will take on last year’s semi-finalists Erins Own after this evening’s draw for the 2021 club championships in the county.

On the day that adult club players received the green light to resume training in pods of 15 from Monday 10 May and can play games from Monday 7 June, the championship draws for the year ahead took place in Cork.

In the hurling Blackrock, who ended an 18-year wait last October for senior hurling glory, will meet Erins Own along with city rivals St Finbarr’s and last year’s senior A winners Charleville in their group.

Last year’s beaten finalists Glen Rovers will take on Douglas, Newtownshandrum, Bishopstown.

The remaining group will feature the East Cork trio of Sarsfields, Midleton and Carrigtwohill – who won five counties between them in the 2010-2014 period – and city team Na Piarsaigh.

In the football, last year’s premier senior final is still to be played but the two sides in contention, Castlehaven and Nemo Rangers, do know who they will take on in the group stages this year.

Castlehaven will meet fellow West Cork teams Carbery Rangers and Newcestown, along with the winners of the senior A final involving Éire Óg and Mallow, that is still an outstanding fixture.

Nemo Rangers will face Valley Rovers, Douglas and Carrigaline. Then it’s 2018 champions St Finbarr’s up against Ballincollig, Clonakilty and Ilen Rovers in the remaining group.

2021 Cork Championship Draws

Premier Senior Football

  • Group A – Nemo Rangers, Valley Rovers, Douglas, Carrigaline.
  • Group B – Castlehaven, Newcestown, Carbery Rangers, Mallow/Éire Óg.
  • Group C – St Finbarr’s, Ballincollig, Clonakilty, Ilen Rovers.

Premier Senior Hurling

  • Group A – Glen Rovers, Douglas, Newtownshandrum, Bishopstown.
  • Group B – Sarsfields, Na Piarsaigh, Midleton, Carrigtwohill.
  • Group C – Blackrock, Erins Own, St Finbarr’s, Charleville.
Be part
of the team

Access exclusive podcasts, interviews and analysis with a monthly or annual membership.

Become a Member

Senior A Football

  • Group A – O’Donovan Rossa, Bandon, Béal Áth An Ghaorthaidh, Dohenys.
  • Group B – Bishopstown, St Michael’s, Kiskeam, Winner Knocknagree/Kanturk. 
  • Group C – Fermoy, Loser Mallow/Éire Óg, Clyda Rovers, Bantry Blues.

Senior A Hurling

  • Group A – Kanturk, Bandon, Fermoy, Blarney. 
  • Group B – Ballyhea, Bride Rovers, Ballymartle, Mallow. 
  • Group C – Fr O’Neill’s, Newcestown, Cloyne, Killeagh. 

The42 is on Instagram! Tap the button below on your phone to follow us!

Click Here: 2021 soccer tracksuit

Mank isn’t a movie for everybody, though it masquerades as one. Since it’s a Netflix original, its viewership will likely dwarf the number of people who might have moseyed on down to an art-house theater in days of yore. And it’s directed by David Fincher, whose taut thrillers — including Se7en, Fight Club, Gone Girl, Zodiac, and The Social Network — have earned him a reputation as a darkly savage crowdpleaser.

Click Here: Highlanders rugby store

I can’t imagine many Fincher-heads being thrilled by Mank, though. No serial killers, no fistfights, no bloody murders. Its target audience is almost impressively niche: Cinephiles, film critics, and people who are deeply interested in the history of Hollywood circa 1940. It’s not that a person outside that audience can’t watch and, in broad strokes, understand the story of Mank. It’s that to an extent, the film feels like inside baseball. (If you are interested in unpacking that inside baseball — which has to do with turn-of-the-century moguls, 1930s Hollywood politics, and film critics’ feuds from the 1960s, check out this explainer.)

Mank is the tale of Herman J. Mankiewicz, the man who co-wrote Citizen Kane, which is still widely (and, by my lights, correctly) considered one of the greatest movies of all time. He shares the writing credit with the film’s director, producer, and star, Orson Welles. Mank runs along two timelines. In the first, it’s 1940. Mankiewicz (Gary Oldman), a seasoned Hollywood screenwriter who’s been down on his luck and laid up by a car accident, is sent by a film producer to a remote house with a nurse and a secretary to write a screenplay for Orson Welles. He titles that screenplay American, but it eventually becomes Citizen Kane.

Mank’s second timeline begins about a decade prior, as Mankiewicz becomes acquainted with William Randolph Hearst (Charles Dance), one of the richest and most famous men in America, and Hearst’s mistress, the actress Marion Davies (Amanda Seyfried). Mankiewicz is a busy working writer and an infamous drunk. Every famous writer and plenty of famous producers from the era show up in this timeline — from David O. Selznick (Toby Leonard Moore) to Ben Hecht (Jeff Harns) to, most significantly, Louis B. Mayer (Arliss Howard) — and Mankiewicz slowly realizes, through a number of experiences, that the industry he works in is both influential in ways that have nothing to do with entertainment, and morally bankrupt. (This latter bit is intertwined with the 1934 California gubernatorial election, which means Upton Sinclair, played by Bill Nye, makes a cameo.)

Fincher, working from a screenplay written by his father Jack Fincher, makes obvious nods to films of the period and Citizen Kane specifically. Mank is in black and white. There are fake effects intended to mimic what you might see on actual film, even though Fincher shoots digitally. Certain editing choices and flourishes — like fade-outs at the end of a scene — pay homage to a bygone era of Hollywood filmmaking.

But if Mank is paying homage, it isn’t doing so slavishly; the film is no love letter to Hollywood. The film industry loves to make movies about itself, to be sure. But if, say, a work like the 2013 Best Picture winner Argo is about Hollywood saving the world, then Mank is the exact opposite. Mank tells the story of a screenwriter for whom working in Hollywood doesn’t amount to much more than taking home an easy, enormous paycheck for tossing off silly ideas. Like many others who headed West at the time — including, for instance, F. Scott Fitzgerald — Mankiewicz had been a successful journalist and playwright before he landed on the Paramount lot. For him, the movies were a diversion, fundamentally silly entertainment that offered a perfectly fine way to make a living, but wasn’t of much importance otherwise.

Over the course of Mank, however, he comes to realize there are big real-world implications to the way the movie business runs, from the lower-paid workers who struggle to make a living to the way the films they produce can distort the truth and benefit the powerful. Citizen Kane, at least in Mank’s telling, is equal parts his stroke of revenge and his plea for atonement.

It’s a very good movie, tight and layered and complex. And though it could feel chilly — and I understand that reaction — I found it quite moving.

We live, in a sense, in the world that Mankiewicz and Hearst and Mayer and the rest of them made: one where the moving image has profoundly affected the way we perceive reality and what we believe to be true. In Mank’s 1930s timeline, Mankiewicz is just catching on to the power that images, whether or not they’re “real,” exercise over the ordinary people who watch them. At one point, he says flippantly that he can’t imagine regular moviegoers would actually fall for the messages they see on screen. He soon learns he vastly overestimated the regular moviegoer.

That lesson resonates at the tail end of 2020, for social and political reasons I probably don’t need to explain. But it’s also why Mankiewicz’s dawning realization and slow decision to throw himself under the bus — by writing what turned out to be not just his best movie, but quite possibly Hollywood’s best movie — is so poignant. It’s an inkling of the promise of cinema, and also the limitations of cinema.

Meanwhile, it’s difficult to ignore the irony of a movie like Mank being produced by Netflix, a Hollywood upstart, to be viewed, mostly, on people’s TVs and laptop screens. The Hollywood that Herman J. Mankiewicz worked in was on the precipice of a shift, a loss of innocence, as the studio system began to stagnate and new ways of doing business appeared on the horizon. A similar shift looms now, due in no small part to a decline in the communal experience of going to the theater and studios’ foregrounding of individualistic movie-”going” via small screens. There’s a lesson in there, somewhere, though I’m not sure we’ll know what it is till we get a few years’ worth of distance.

But what’s obvious, from Mank, is that movies aren’t built to save anyone. They never have been. They can be transformative; they can do good in the world; they can change people’s outlooks in many ways. But not simply because they’re movies. Any impact a movie has is the result of an artist choosing to look past the end of their own nose and do something vulnerable, purposeful, and risky. Entering someone else’s experience through a movie is different from being presented with statistics, or polemics.

When people in power harness the moving image to benefit their own ends, they do just the opposite of saving the world. What Mank suggests is that daring to take movies (and, by extension, TV) seriously, and seeing them for the cultural bellwether they are, requires some courage and perhaps a bit of recklessness. There’s no guarantee that your efforts will be rewarded. Never mind. It is work worth doing.

Mank premieres December 4 on Netflix.

Early in 2020, when we still had hope that the spread of Covid-19 would be suppressed in a few weeks or months and we’d be back to our lives in short order, film critics joked about what the 2021 Sundance Film Festival selection would be like. Dramas about parents trapped at home with their kids for a few weeks and having a personal revelation. Quirky romances between quarantined roommates. Zoom-mediated comedies. That sort of thing.

Back then, nobody dared think the festival itself would be held online — it was too hard to imagine. But by fall the (wise) decision was made to make most of Sundance 2021 a virtual affair, with a little bit of satellite programming at small theaters and drive-ins around the country. I wondered, when I heard that announcement, how much “quarancinema” could really make its way into the lineup or address the situation, given the length of time it takes to write, shoot, and create a film.

The answer surprised me: The festival was full of resonant works, whether made intentionally about life during this pandemic or accidentally apropos. Maybe I should have expected as much; a couple of TV shows as well as films that were shot in the middle of the pandemic (like the maudlin Malcolm & Marie) and even set during it (like the weirdly boring Locked In), have already been released on major streaming services. Doubtless many more are en route.

But it was impossible, as I sat on my couch watching this year’s festival films, to not be struck by how fundamentally accurate so many of them felt about life, both over the past year and right now. And more shocking was how dead-on they seemed to depict our reality, even though several were written and shot long before “social distancing” entered our vocabulary irrevocably.

As I wrote last year, the feeling that so many of the movies that came out in 2020 were somehow “relevant” to life in quarantine — even though it was impossible for filmmakers to have known what was coming — pointed to the wider trends of isolation and inequality the pandemic simply unearthed. But most of those films felt like allegories; at Sundance, the resemblance was much more literal, and some of them were eerily prescient.

Click Here: Geelong Cats Guernsey

In particular, the four films below will undoubtedly resonate as they make their way to theaters and streaming services in the coming months — and not one of them is a quirky Zoom comedy. Some were shot during 2020; others had wrapped long before the fateful year began. But each addresses something specific about the lives we’re living right now, though hopefully not forever.

In the Earth

Director Ben Wheatley (Free Fire, High-Rise) shot In the Earth shortly after lockdown lifted in the UK last spring. Taking cues from folk horror, it’s the story of a scientist (Joel Fry) who embarks on a mission to find a colleague gone missing. Accompanied by a forest ranger (Ellora Torchia), he heads into the woods. When they encounter a strange man living alone there (Reece Shearsmith), things start to go very badly.

In the Earth acknowledges a world where some kind of deadly virus exists and checkpoints have been set up to rapid-test people as they move around the country. And although the movie isn’t my cup of tea — it’s violent, a tad incoherent, and not very fun to watch — it’s interesting to see the creative ways the production gets around Covid-19 safety regulations. Some characters are masked; some shots are visibly set up to accommodate social distancing; almost the entire movie is set outside. It’s more intriguing as an artifact of a time period than as a movie, but what a time.

How to watch it: Neon is set to distribute In the Earth in the US, but the film is awaiting a release date.

In the Same Breath

Pandemic documentaries started coming out this past fall and seem likely to continue for a while. But I have a hard time imagining a better one than In the Same Breath from director Nanfu Wang, who grew up in China but now lives and works in the US. Her previous film, One Child Nation, fearlessly exposed the wide-ranging repercussions of the Chinese government’s one-child policy (and won the grand jury prize at Sundance in 2019). In the Same Breath takes a similarly fearless approach, this time to the often willful misinformation spread by multiple governments as the coronavirus pandemic began to take hold in early 2020.

Wang may be the single best guide through this experience, and not just because she’s fully immersed in both Chinese and American culture. In January 2020, when news of a strange new virus in China was just starting to surface in broader media, she was serving on a jury at Sundance while coordinating with her husband to retrieve their son from China, where he was visiting his grandparents. Simultaneously, she began contacting filmmakers on the ground in Wuhan who might be able to film what was going on.

She tells this story in In the Same Breath, which is a daring exploration of how the Chinese government repressed information about what was really happening. But it also exposes how other governments — most notably in the US — contributed to the ongoing misinformation crisis and made the entire situation much worse than it needed to be. It’s a chilling, truly absorbing film with big implications for the future.

How to watch it: In the Same Breath will premiere on HBO in spring 2021.

The Dog Who Wouldn’t Be Quiet

For most of its 73-minute runtime, The Dog Who Wouldn’t Be Quiet feels like a subtly absurd comedy about life’s little, well, absurdities. We never hear the titular dog, who belongs to mild-mannered Seba (Daniel Katz), make a noise. Seba’s neighbors do, though, and they ask him to find a way to keep the dog from whining all day after he leaves for work.

This sets off a chain of events that seem loosely connected, or maybe not connected at all, and for an hour we’re just watching Seba live his life. Argentinian director Ana Katz (Daniel is her brother) is a gentle observer of the small moments where our lives can turn on a dime.

But then the big moment comes, so close to the end of the film that it’s surprising, and without revealing what happens, I’ll just say that it feels wildly familiar, that instant when everyone’s lives change. However, The Dog Who Wouldn’t Be Quiet doesn’t stop with the moment of apocalypse; it imagines a life afterward, which is oddly heartening.

How to watch it: The Dog Who Wouldn’t Be Quiet is awaiting US distribution.

The Pink Cloud

Onscreen text at the beginning of The Pink Cloud tells us the film was written in 2017 and shot in 2019, which feels like an odd announcement to make to your audience. The reasons become almost immediately clear. In the story, a rosy pink cloud suddenly rolls across Earth, and if you breathe it in, you die. So everyone is instantly quarantined with whomever they happened to be with at the moment the cloud arrived. That means Giovana (Renata de Lélis) and Yago (Eduardo Mendonça), who met only the day before and spent the night together, are now stuck together indefinitely.

I do not fully know what Brazilian director Iuli Gerbase had in mind when she first wrote The Pink Cloud, but whatever the subtext was, in 2021 it’s just text. The pink cloud hovers over the world for years, and Giovana and Yago slowly experience the stages we’re familiar with now: certainty that it will be over soon, rage, exhaustion, fear, weariness. Birthdays happen over video chat. So do dental “visits.” Unable to leave home at all, people simply contract their universes to their houses and the people in them.

This likely sounds like a nightmare to watch if you’re more or less living it, but The Pink Cloud is haunting and riveting in the best way. It draws a stark contrast between people who decide to accept the circumstances and those who just keep chafing against them, without judging either group. It acutely diagnoses a mental state that will feel startlingly familiar. And in a strange way, it’s a little encouraging. We’re somehow not alone. And I think, in the decades to come, The Pink Cloud will keep feeling relevant — even when the cloud feels a little less literal.

How to watch it: The Pink Cloud is awaiting distribution.

“If she doesn’t scare you, no evil thing will.”

The jauntily sinister lyrics to “Cruella de Vil,” from the 1961 Disney film One Hundred and One Dalmatians, might be one of the most well-remembered things about the film for many Disney fans — only slightly less well-known than Cruella de Vil herself.

The vengeful, fur-wearing villainess may seem like the epitome of a character few people could love; she kills puppies, for god’s sake! Instead, she’s the opposite. Over the years, she’s become one of Disney’s most beloved villains, popular enough to have fueled a live-action 1996 remake of One Hundred and One Dalmatians starring Glenn Close, and now a new live-action origin story, Cruella, starring Emma Stone.

Cruella is merely the latest example of Disney’s enthusiasm for catering to fans of the bad guys, a stance it has increasingly leaned into over the last decade as it’s started to craft franchises around villains after defining itself by its princesses. Frozen’s Elsa was originally intended to be the villain of that film, before the narrative shifted to make her the sympathetic antihero instead. Angelina Jolie headlined two live-action films exploring the backstory of Sleeping Beauty’s evil dragon Maleficent in 2014 and 2019. The company even took the gambit offscreen, launching a new board game franchise, Disney Villainous, in 2018, that encourages characters to play as its most popular evil characters and triumph over the forces of wholesomeness.

Since the first Disney stores opened in 1987, the company has had a robust line of villain merchandise designed to target fans of its most famous Big Bads, including Cruella, Maleficent, The Little Mermaid’s Ursula, The Lion King’s Scar, and Aladdin’s Jafar, among others. From there, it continued to expand its targeted marketing: In 1992, as part of the Walt Disney World Hollywood Studios attraction, it launched Villains in Vogue, a shop that served park guests for more than 20 years until it was rebranded in 2015. Since then, Disney has held special “villains” theme park events, launched the “Villains” Blu-Ray collection, and in 2020 released a limited-edition line of high-end villain dolls. The collection — check out the Ursula doll below — quickly sold out.

This marketing method seems to be working. Longstanding rumors of a theme park dedicated entirely to Disney villains have kept fans titillated for years — and though it’s apparently nothing more than an internet myth, it’s a telling sign of how popular Disney villains really are. The first Maleficent film grossed more than $758 million worldwide and came in sixth in domestic box office rankings in 2014, while the sequel respectably earned nearly $500 million worldwide (and came in 23rd domestically). The aforementioned Villainous board game keeps adding expansion packs. And those sold-out limited-edition dolls? They’re reselling for hundreds of dollars.

Clearly, this whole celebrating-the-villains thing is paying off for the Mouse, which may seem counterintuitive. Isn’t Disney, on celluloid at least, supposed to represent good triumphing over evil, and all that’s wholesome and morally upright about society?

To a degree, the popularity of Disney’s villains is part of the much broader cultural embrace of antiheroism as a way of understanding a world that revolves around assholes. But while antiheroes seem to have reached their peak with the denouement of Donald Trump, Disney villains occupy a different space in the cultural psyche, one that’s withstood the test of time.

In fiction, villain characters let us vicariously express and indulge our “taboo” and “deviant” sides

Traditionally, the villain in any story — Disney or otherwise — represents a behavior, character trait, or facet of identity that society has deemed to be taboo or immoral. Perhaps the villain commits one or more of the Biblical seven deadly sins, as explored in David Fincher’s 1995 movie Seven. Maybe they crave vengeance, like the long litany of horror movie villains who’ve come back from the dead or reached out from beyond the grave to destroy all the people who brought them to ruin. Or they might exhibit pure sociopathy and a desire for power, like the kind we sometimes see in real-life criminals.

Villainy gets even more complicated as a concept when we consider that, historically, the “villain” in any given story is villainous not because of something they do but because of something they are. Far too often, traditional narrative storytelling has worked to further marginalize people who are already marginalized in society by framing aspects of their identities as monstrous, inherently evil, or Other. One of the most famous examples is Frankenstein’s monster, Mary Shelley’s sympathetic but tortured creature who lashes out at his creator, Victor Frankenstein, by killing people around him. As the “villain” of Frankenstein, he has become a twofold cautionary tale: a warning against the vice of scientists playing god, and a tragic story about a freak who will never be able to fit into society.

Yet a lot of us feel closer to the freaks than to the society that’s keeping them at bay. This is why monsters like werewolves, shapeshifters, vampires, and fairies have also traditionally served as metaphors, standing in for our real-life experiences and identities. Many narratives recognize these connections by reclaiming and reaffirming their respective villains’ humanity and their place in society.

A well-crafted narrative often reflects viewers’ sympathy by allowing the “villain” to have a lot more fun than the virtuous main character. Often, whether intentionally or subconsciously, the villain also reflects some hidden aspect of the upstanding main character that the character has had to repress — think of virtuous Dr. Jekyll and his murderous alter-ego Mr. Hyde. This doubling is something psychologist Carl Jung famously referred to as the “shadow.”

“A lot of people tend to use the term shadow as interchangeable with evil, and I don’t think that that is the most helpful way to define shadow,” Dori Koehler, a humanities professor at Southern New Hampshire University, told Vox. Koehler has studied Disney’s storytelling as an example of modern-day Jungian mythology, and authored the 2017 book The Mouse and The Myth: Sacred Art and Secular Ritual of Disneyland. “What shadow really is is the things of which we are unaware, the things which we have not brought to consciousness.”

In one of my favorite examples of the villain as the shadow, Alfred Hitchcock’s Strangers on a Train (1950), one titular stranger, Bruno, functions as a doppelgänger to his heroic counterpart, Guy. He’s fearless, bold, unafraid to shock people by saying what others think, while Guy is straitlaced, uptight, and seething beneath his polite exterior. Bruno pushes his social deviance to an extreme by actually committing murder — but even when Guy is horrified by Bruno, he still likes and identifies with Bruno. That’s because, on some level, Guy is Bruno and Bruno is Guy — the hero can’t exist without the villain, and vice versa. This truth functions as the underlying foundation of countless villain/hero constructions in modern pop culture, from Batman and the Joker to Harry Potter and Voldemort to the entire plot of the 2000 movie Unbreakable (in which a villain engineers a hero’s origin story so he can finally have a nemesis).

In essence, feeling affection or admiration for a villain allows us to transgress without actually transgressing in the real world. We can identify with the fictional villain and with the taboo sides of ourselves that society typically forbids, discourages, or punishes us for showing.

But if villains in general allow us to safely transgress social mores, there’s an even more particular satisfaction in cheering on Disney villains — because Disney films typically draw on our most fundamental views of good and evil, and therefore tap into some of our most powerful subconscious desires.

Disney villains represent dramatic manifestations of deeply embedded cultural archetypes

“Disney [animation arose] out of the tradition of caricature and cartooning,” Koehler points out. “And there wasn’t a whole lot of space for nuance in that tradition. It was very gag-focused and quite dogmatic. It’s either everything or nothing — all colors, no colors.”

That literally two-dimensional creative landscape made Disney’s now-classic animated films the perfect vehicle for fairy tales: Not only does animation serve as a unique tool for depicting fantasy worlds, but its foundation of caricature aligns well with fairy tales built around straightforward depictions of good and evil.

This two-dimensionality also arguably allows animated Disney films to vividly depict many universal figures — those broadly held images of societal roles and various character types that most people recognize. Consider the queen and the princess, the mother and the maiden. Koehler notes that the very first humanoid character to appear in the pantheon of Disney animation was Persephone, the goddess of the underworld, in the 1934 short The Goddess of Spring. With her strange movements and inhumanly long arms, Persephone already looks a bit otherworldly — but Koehler points out that, technically, she might be the first Disney princess and that “all of the Disney princesses have been reiterations of that archetype across time.”

The Persephone myth, as the short depicts, involves her violent abduction to the underworld at the hands of Hades, against her will and over the strenuous objections of her mother, Demeter. So you could argue that from the start, Disney princesses were constructed from dual traumatic conflicts. As princesses, they typically have to learn to assert their agency within a restrictive, patriarchal society. They typically also have to do this without a mother to guide them. In the process, they often wind up battling a distorted matriarchal figure like the fabled “evil stepmother” — usually a woman who’s eschewed the traditional societal role that the princess seems destined to embrace and accept.

Disney is full of these figures, women who’ve essentially prioritized their careers and personal ambitions over family and domesticity. It’s easy to see how plenty of people could find those paths appealing rather than deviant. Disney’s female villains, then, are a reflection, according to Koehler, of “what happens when the feminine isn’t allowed continued renewal in a positive, healthy way.” Villains like Snow White’s evil queen, Cinderella’s evil stepmother, and Ursula the sea witch are jealous of the youth, beauty, and better social standing of their counterparts.

In contrast, male Disney villains are frequently portrayed as visibly effeminate. Pocahontas’s Governor Radcliffe sings about glitter, while Robin Hood’s Prince John sucks his thumb; Hercules’s Hades literally bursts into flames; Scar, Jafar, The Great Mouse Detective’s Rattigan, The Princess and the Frog’s Dr. Facilier, and The Hunchback of Notre Dame’s Frollo are all of a type: elegant, debonair, coded as flamboyant and emasculated — as well as ruthless. And where most of the female Disney villains often fixate on destroying their younger, prettier princess counterparts, the male villains are usually consumed with power; they’re concerned with destroying whole realms and communities.

It’s also notable that Disney had a long pattern throughout the 20th century of coding its animal villains as racist stereotypes. It frequently modeled such characters on minstrel caricatures and often unconsciously framed entire cultures — like the notorious Siamese cats of Lady and the Tramp or the monkey tribe of The Jungle Book — through racist lenses. All of these villain portrayals lent an irony to Disney’s reputation: Even as the company branded itself as a moral arbiter for generations of children, its most popular films frequently drew on deeply regressive tropes about what we should fear and why.

If there’s one thing humans love to do, however, it’s to resist doing what they’re told. And that means Disney villains — unlawful, disobedient, and often depicted unfairly — are primed to be reclaimed and reinterpreted by the audience.

Disney villains have spawned a deeply interactive mode of fan engagement and interpretation

“Disney has historically had an interesting intersection between the stories that it tells and the way that the fans have engaged with the stories Disney tells,” Koehler explains. Indeed, over time, many of Disney’s most popular villains have become almost fully extricated from their original source texts, taking on entirely new cultural meanings outside of their storylines.

One big reason for this is the unique relationship many of them have to queerness and camp. Many Disney characters, from Mulan to Maleficent, have long been read as queer by fans. And perhaps because of the homophobic stereotypes in their portrayals, many of the villains discussed have become symbols for the gay community.

The most obvious examples here are Ursula, who was actually based on real-life drag queen Divine; Cruella, who was based on Hollywood star Tallulah Bankhead, herself a symbol of camp; and Beauty and the Beast’s Gaston, whose queer-coded portrayal was heavily influenced by the film’s queer lyricist, the late Howard Ashman. “Camp” is notoriously difficult to define, but as it relates to queer culture, I use it to mean that Bankhead, Divine, and their cartoon counterparts all represent performances of gender that are so at odds with typical cisgender expression that they become a kind of performance art, with inherent commentary on how slippery the notion of gender itself is.

Once again, the caricature aspect of Disney animation (which has often carried through to later live-adaptations) aids these queer readings, and since they’re each bound up with sex and sexuality, there’s a lot of metanarrative — the narrative about the character that exists outside of the actual story — that queer audiences attach to certain characters and what they stand for.

Sometimes, that metanarrative travels far. For example, at this point in the trajectory of Cruella de Vil, her character has almost nothing to do with puppies. In the new movie, a direct, if far-fetched, prequel to the original animated film, she’s been given a backstory straight out of The Devil Wears Prada that puts her in the fashion industry and pits her against a ruthless female executive (Emma Thompson). It’s clear that Disney is exploring the metanarrative about Cruella, building on her love of furs and fashion as well as fans’ interpretation of her as a fabulously camp performance artist. The film also draws on the current trend of reevaluating demonized women to give her a far more sympathetic persona. Cruella ultimately explains how we arrive at the original One Hundred and One Dalmatians storyline, but it has little connection to that storyline.

As an example of a reimagined villain who nevertheless still sports all the traits audiences originally celebrated, Cruella is the latest of Disney’s ongoing attempts to capitalize on and build off themes its audiences have layered onto its stories. But it should be noted that Disney’s celebration of such characters often feels exploitative; after all, while Disney is happy to market directly to queer Disney fans, there still isn’t a meaningful example of a queer character in the animated Disney canon.

And that’s another reason that villains, by default, have a part to play in fiction beyond reflecting societal fears and serving as an outlet for our deep-seated temptations: Embracing them allows us to find ourselves in narratives where many of us continue to be shunted to the side or rendered invisible. Rooting for Disney villains isn’t just an audience-centered way of interacting with a story. It also gives individual viewers — rather than Disney, with its many corporate obligations and strictures on what is and isn’t family-friendly — the agency to determine who we cheer for and identify with, and what version of the narrative we accept.

“Fictional tropes are the place where we find our healing,” Koehler tells me. “We need to see our villains transformed.”

When it comes to Disney’s villains, there’s real power in reclaiming their narratives to give them the win, for once, instead of watching them literally and inevitably fall to an oppressive society’s rules.

Click Here: factory direct products

Sen. Tom Cotton on Wednesday released perhaps the most detailed strategy by a prominent Republican lawmaker for long-term US-China competition — and it effectively calls for ending the economic relationship between the world’s two richest countries as we know it.

The report — titled “Beat China: Targeted Decoupling and the Economic Long War” — outlines the Arkansas senator’s vision for how the US can outlast Beijing in a Cold War-like struggle. Cotton calls for Washington to sever many of its ties with Chinese industry and society while at the same time investing at home in the scientific, technological, and manufacturing fields China currently dominates. Only then — with the US less dependent on China’s giant economy — can America be more secure in the years to come.

But Cotton’s plan isn’t just aimed at ensuring America’s economic well-being. It seeks to prove that China’s Communist, authoritarian model doesn’t stack up to America’s capitalist, democratic one. Cotton is therefore proposing not only a blueprint for economic warfare, but also a roadmap for defeating China’s regime and triggering its collapse.

“We need to beat this evil empire and consign the Chinese Communists … to the ash heap of history,” the senator said in a speech detailing his 84-page report at a virtual Reagan Institute event on Thursday. He called the US-China fight a “protracted twilight struggle that will determine the fate of the world.”

It’s worth taking Cotton’s ideas seriously. He sits on the Armed Services, Intelligence, and Joint Economic committees in the Senate, which means he’s privy to some of the most sensitive information about how the US and China compete on multiple fronts. And he’s also a long-rumored 2024 presidential contender, so there’s a chance his vision could turn into policy if he gets into the Oval Office.

But even Cotton acknowledges his suggestions could hurt the US economy in the near term. Ending US-China economic cooperation in key sectors like quantum computing and artificial intelligence means Americans will take a hit as domestic companies and workers lose vital partners. Still, Cotton believes the long-term benefits are worth the early pains.

“The costs of targeted decoupling with China pale in comparison to the costs of passivity,” Cotton said. “We cannot watch as America becomes less prosperous and cedes its position to a totalitarian power dedicated to bending the world to its will.”

Experts I spoke to about Cotton’s plan said there’s clearly a need to reform, and in some places completely reshape, the way the two countries do business with each other. The US spent years letting China take advantage of many of its industries, and it’s high time for Washington to push back, they said. But they’re also worried the senator’s zero-sum approach toward America’s third-largest trading partner may go too far.

“A lot of these things sound a lot better in theory than in practice,” said Lina Benabdallah, an assistant professor at Wake Forest University. “These might be Band-Aid solutions, but they’re not long-term solutions.”

Cotton’s report also highlights just how much the Republican Party’s thinking has shifted when it comes to competing economically with China. “It’s an extremely interventionist plan,” not a free-market one, said Kristin Vekasi, an assistant professor at the University of Maine.

Here’s a look at what, exactly, Cotton is proposing in his report and what it could mean for the future of the US-China relationship, and the world.

How to “decouple” from China’s economy, explained by Tom Cotton

There are many elements to Cotton’s plan, but it breaks down into two main parts: How to “decouple” — that is, separate — the US and Chinese economies, and how to ensure that decoupling doesn’t ruin America’s prosperity.

Let’s start with the “how to decouple” part. For starters, Cotton recommends some ways to punish China for its aggressiveness on trade.

Click Here:

One is to sanction leaders in China’s government and industrial sector who benefit from the theft American intellectual property. Doing that, Cotton says, will make them think twice about forcing US companies to give up valuable trade secrets before entering the Chinese market or cyber attacking American firms to take their plans.

“The message should finally be clear: Steal from Americans once, and you’ll be looking over your shoulder forever,” Cotton told the Reagan Institute.

Another is to tighten export controls so China can’t import US (and, hopefully, allied) technology helpful to its military or commercial companies. Cotton also proposes consolidating all such decisions in the State Department, instead of throughout myriad government agencies, so the US can better ensure materials and information helpful to China in industries like 5G, semiconductors, artificial intelligence, and quantum computing don’t go overseas.

Cotton adds that the US should complement such restrictions with federal investment in research and development in those fields. He also suggests the government give US companies more capital to invest in manufacturing capabilities to make products in those sectors.

Essentially, Cotton wants fewer resources in key scientific, technological, and other areas to go to China, and wants to dedicate more resources to developing those sectors at home. Over time, he says, the US would surpass China as the leader in these areas.

That effort extends into higher education. In his report, the senator proposes “Bar[ring] Chinese nationals in graduate and post-graduate programs in the United States from studying or conducting research in sensitive science, technology, engineering, and mathematics fields.”

The reason, he elaborated in his Reagan Institute address, is the US shouldn’t risk having Chinese students head back home with knowledge to help China’s military build cutting-edge technologies to use against America. “It would have been a total scandal to have trained a generation of Soviet nuclear scientists during the Cold War,” the senator said.

Vekasi said this proposal is a “terrible” one. Yes, the US runs the risk of training a future top Chinese official, but it also risks cultivating talent that could stay in America and bolster the local economy. What’s more, many Chinese students learn to like the US after studying among Americans and experiencing life in the country. Having universities that attract foreign students, from China and elsewhere, is a key source of America’s “soft power.”

And it’s worth noting that the US and Soviets did have scientific and technological exchanges during the Cold War.

What Vekasi did agree with, though, was another element of Cotton’s plan: ending America’s reliance on China’s extraction and processing of rare-earth elements. These elements are used in high-technology items like smartphones and flat-screen TVs, as well as military weapons systems like warplanes — and that makes them extremely valuable.

The problem is that China is simply dominant in this space. In the making of specialized magnets for electronics, for example, “the Pentagon has had to repeatedly waive a ban on using Chinese-built components in US weapons so that it could install rare-earth magnets in F-35 fighters,” Cotton wrote in his report.

It doesn’t help that when the US extracts rare-earth elements from mines in California and Colorado, more often than not they’re shipped to China to be made into American products, Vekasi told me.

The US simply doesn’t have the labor force to compete with Beijing’s industries, and it won’t unless and until Washington decides to subsidize workers to get trained in that field and companies to hire them, Cotton argues. Until the government does that, the US will remain beholden to China’s firm grip on the rare-earths sector.

The senator offers other ideas, such as having the Pentagon more involved in reviewing Chinese investment in the US and establishing a government committee to consistently review where federal funds for research and development go, but you get the idea. Cotton’s main point is the US can no longer rely on China in critical technological, scientific, and manufacturing industries and instead must learn to fend for itself.

But all that would lead to economic pain for many Americans. “This is going to take a long time and cause some dislocation and disruption,” Cotton said at the Reagan Institute. That’s why the second prong of his plan includes mitigating those early, negative effects.

How to keep America’s economy humming while decoupling, explained by Tom Cotton

This part of Cotton’s plan is less developed. It’s clear he’s given more thought on decoupling from China than on ensuring the US survives such a stark economic transition. The ideas he does offer, though, are intriguing.

Among them is to “open new markets to American goods and negotiate high-standard, bilateral trade agreements that prioritize American jobs and exports.” This makes sense on a conceptual level, as US companies will need new places in which to sell and make their products with China mostly out of the picture.

The senator singles out Japan as a place that could buy more American goods, and points to Malaysia and Vietnam as having labor forces that could produce these goods at competitive prices.

That idea fits into Cotton’s overall view that the US should get other countries to decouple their economies from China, too. That not only would weaken Beijing’s economy, he claims, but also would create a global, anti-China alliance the US could lead.

In that vein, Cotton also writes that America should “reclaim international institutions and standards-setting bodies from Chinese influence where possible, and establish new groups comprised of U.S. partners when existing institutions cannot be reclaimed.”

The senator highlighted how the World Trade Organization has failed to rein in China’s economic malpractices on a large scale. That’s not to say the US shouldn’t try to reform that or other institutions.

But if China won’t play by the rules, or the group won’t hold China’s actions accountable, then he’d rather Washington leave and form new bodies. That way, the US “can ensure that international rules and standards are written to support emerging technologies where America is naturally suited to prevail.”

This stance is similar to Donald Trump’s, who as president also didn’t want to stay in international organizations he deemed friendly to China. President Joe Biden, meanwhile, thinks the US can only challenge Beijing if the US stays in such institutions.

Cotton’s other suggestions are essentially just restatements of proposals he espoused in the “how to decouple” section, namely government funding for research, development, and training in key industries. They underscore the senator’s central thesis that any moves to untangle US-China economic ties must feature corresponding actions to mitigate the resulting disruption.

For Wake Forest’s Benabdallah, that vision reflects the growing bipartisan consensus about America’s future economic ties with China. “This really puts into writing the view coming from DC that US-China relations are a zero-sum game,” she told me. “It’s very logical to say the US needs to do all this, but it’s another story when you see what that really means.”

Maine’s Vekasi echoed that sentiment: A lot of what Cotton said should be considered and thought about more deeply, especially the rare-earth materials part. But until it’s clear that unless the US can find less painful and cumbersome ways to sever economic relations with China, little of what the senator proposes will come true.

“It’s a pipe dream,” she said.

Correction, February 22: An earlier version of this story misstated Sen. Cotton’s state affiliation in a photo caption.