A question on this Fourth of July: What makes a great American movie?

As a former lifelong video store clerk, I was asked for recommendations through some 25 July 4s. Much of the time, this was an exercise in pre-Google list-making from my film geek brain files. “Patton,” “Gettysburg,” “Yankee Doodle Dandy,” “Glory” – all safe bets. If I sensed someone wanted to dig a little deeper, I’d throw out “Casablanca” (Humphrey Bogart’s former freedom fighter finally gets back in the game), “Miracle” (for the sports-friendly), “The Right Stuff” (astronauts overcome scrubbed-for-consumption PR with actual heroism).

Me being me, some “patriotic” picks saw me perpetually grind my molars. July 4 renters have to have the Navy recruitment tool that is “Top Gun,” the cutesy reactionary gimmickry of “Forrest Gump” and an Australian anti-Semite’s jingoistic bloodlust in “The Patriot,” where the cartoonishly evil British villain is literally run through by an American flag at the climax. A rental’s a rental.

With America now rounding the bend to the most pivotal presidential election in a century or so, the Fourth is more complicated than ever, movie-wise. The old tales of American exceptionalism – even the good ones – feel beside the point in a country essentially leaving the entire concept of American democracy up to a coin toss.

Movies, along with all other forms of art and entertainment, are under attack by those proclaiming their version of America trumps all others, so to speak. Anything not shorn of elements that set off conservative cries of “woke!” (and other deeply unoriginal insults) is threatened with boycotts, or worse.

(“Woke” includes: any mention of America’s history of racism, oppression of women and LGBTQ+ people, slavery, Jim Crow, anti-war protests, voter disenfranchisement, the genocide of Indigenous people and predatory capitalism. Basically, anything that makes the white majority remotely uncomfortable by introducing complexity to their blinkered myth of God-ordained American exceptionalism.)

HBO’s dark superhero series “Watchmen” was attacked for incorporating the deliberately forgotten Tulsa Race Massacre amid the capes and punching. Amazon’s “The Boys” (another deconstruction of the all-American superhero genre) came under fire recently once rabid fanboys finally realized that its portrait of cynical, violent jingoism in tights was making fun of them. The impeccable genre flicks of Jordan Peele caught flak for daring to introduce race into horror. New “Star Wars” series “The Acolyte” has been “review-bombed” by “fans” outraged at the series’ inclusion of Black, gay, and trans actors, and strong female leads.

Underlying all this sneering and name-calling is the assumption that “American” is baseline white, male and straight. Movies that suggest others have an equal part to play, or that those heroes of old had as many prejudices as medals are “woke” and un-American.

But the thing is, art doesn’t conform. Art explores without predestined outcome. And in the case of movies, art is restlessly inconvenient to those who need their patriotism simple, uncomplicated and literally whitewashed. Genuinely great movies about America don’t pander by shying away from unpleasant reality. Truly patriotic American movies recognize that the lofty ideals of the Founding Fathers come inextricably yoked to terrible contradictions.

Actually patriotic movies can tell the truth of past and present and still mark out our big, blundering nation as the aspirational entity it is. For those customers I sensed were on my wavelength, I plucked down movies like John Sayles’ “Matewan.” It’s story of a real-life miners’ strike in 1920s Appalachia teems with characters from all walks of American life, like the poor white miners themselves, squeezed by the owners and on the verge of violence against the Black and Italian workers unwittingly shipped in to replace them. The saintly union organizer (recent Maine visitor, along with Sayles, Chris Cooper) whose bookish unworldliness threatens to shatter the fragile peace.

Then there’s James Earl Jones’ veteran miner Few Clothes, shocked to discover how the company has pit miners against miners, standing his ground against the white locals refusing to allow him into their newly formed union. “I’ve been called (expletive), and I can’t help that the way white folks is, but I ain’t never been called no scab!,” Jones’ booms with signature dignity, as “Matewan” plumbs the imperfections deep in the American character without abandoning hope of overcoming them.

“Matewan” stirs my love of America not in spite of but because it acknowledges the mess we continually make of it. (Look up “Matewan Massacre” to see how this turned out.) With overt fascism creeping into mainstream policy, complete with its book bans and boycotts all with the goal of making America conform to an idealized country that never existed, it’s instructive to remember how there is no great fascist art.

Fascism brooks no ambiguity, or hope for betterment except on its own narrow, shallow terms. The World War II German film industry churned out propaganda in the guise of entertainment at breakneck speed, but even the best (Leni Riefenstahl’s technically groundbreaking documentaries) are examples of expertise in service of evil. The rest are radioactive relics, screened only as cautionary tales. Quentin Tarantino’s “Inglourious Basterds” cannily shows how the state-controlled film industry turns Daniel Brühl’s decorated Nazi soldier into a big screen hero, the new star’s preening acceptance of his leading man status an indictment of all who view art and propaganda the same.

For those customers out there still looking for July 4 recommendations, here are my go-tos and why:

– “All the President’s Men,” for showing there’s nothing more patriotic than the truth

– “Coming Home,” eternal hippie director Hal Ashby merely asking wartime recruits to consider the harsh realities of war

–“Moscow on the Hudson,” Robin Williams’ best performance in a film about the difficult greatness of America’s melting pot

– “Nashville,” Robert Altman’s sprawling musical tribute to America’s yearning oddballs and the darkness at the heart of the American dream

– “Dave,” throwback idealistic fantasy about a presidential impersonator who gets the chance to change things for real

– “Mr. Smith Goes to Washington,” a feel-good Jimmy Stewart classic banned in its day for questioning entrenched government corruption

– “Captain America: The First Avenger,” apart from the tale of a little guy refusing to quit the fight against fascism, it’s always patriotic to watch Nazis get punched in the face

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