Commentary and Review of Am I Racist?
Only Just So Far, But Never Going Further
Author’s Note: There are significant spoilers that may diminish enjoyment of this film for those intent on seeing it. The final verdict is a limited recommendation, with strong reservations. Readers may wish to wait until this is available to stream or through… other means.
Matt Walsh should be a generally favorable political and cultural commentator to most readers, but one that many will still regard with some ambivalence. Walsh might be the best commentator there is on the transgender menace. He never premises any argument or comment with mealy-mouthed disclaimers that he has no problem with adults doing whatever they please with their bodies. He opposes transgenderism categorically and without compromise, which is very much the correct stance. Walsh is about as good as mainstream conservative commentators can be, not shying away from issues of black criminality or balkanizing and other harmful effects in living in a racial polyglot with no common race, blood, or ancestry as a social or cultural adhesive agent that binds a collective polity together, while still remaining just within the outer limits of what is acceptable in mainstream conservative discourse. Even so, he is perhaps not as bold as he needs to be about race, and this film is no exception. As readers doubtlessly know, he also works for Ben Shapiro, who of Fstacourse is a devout Zionist, and who has stated unequivocally he does not care about the browning of America or the demographic replacement and disenfranchisement of whites.
For these and other reasons, the decision to purchase tickets to see Walsh’s new film Am I Racist? was not without ambiguities or conflicts, with the ability to watch the movie and writing this review ultimately tipping the balance. The film draws heavily on the excellent What Is a Woman? In both films Walsh offers very little commentary—and none to the people he interviews. Instead, he instigates a sort of verbal jiujitsu, using the energy and movement of his marks against them, letting them speak for themselves, goaded on by masterfully worded questions with just the right timing to elicit absurd statements from the mouths of the interviewed. In this way, he gives them rope to hang themselves. As many or all are aware, Am I Racist? comes with an added wrinkle of Walsh going incognito, wearing a different pair of glasses, a man-bun wig, and different attire.
On this particular matter I must interject with a particular objection, namely that I am incredulous that anyone would fail to recognize Matt Walsh in this disguise. The very idea defies credulity no less than the absurdity that people would not recognize Christopher Reeve (or any other actor) as Superman when presenting himself as Clark Kent, simply because he is wearing thick glasses and combs his hair in a different manner. In the film, Walsh interviews four sets of ideological adversaries in this disguise, Robin DiAngelo, author of White Fragility, Regina Jackson and Saira Rao of “Race to Dinner,” that absurd enterprise in which married or divorced liberal white women pay thousands of dollars to indulge in their peculiar sort of ethno-masochism, Sarra Tekola, the Arizona State University Black Lives Matter activist who accosted two white students for daring to study in the “diversity” or “multicultural center,” and the black mother who sued a Sesame Street theme park in the greater Philadelphia area because a character actor in a “Rosita” costume did not acknowledge her two daughters. He also interviews Wilfred Reilly in this disguise, a mixed raced man who wrote a book called Hate Crime Hoax, but it is possible, likely even, Reilly knew or suspected that he was speaking with Walsh, or that something was not right. Watching and listening to Tekola and the black mother speak exemplifies hard truths about race and intelligence, so it is believable that Walsh duped those individuals. Rao, Jackson, and their guests knew they were being filmed, and one would think either they or a member of the cabal of horrible, affluent white women would have recognized him, although he does wear a mask. The interaction with the “Race to Dinner” party is entertaining, but it beggars belief that no one caught on, as he is constantly dropping dishes, interjecting with his own commentary, and engaging in other antics until Jackson asks “are you an actor?” The interaction with DiAngelo further defies credulity, but she always was a midwit a best, as she embarrasses herself in this film, and has been further disgraced by a plagiarism scandal. The film ends with him appearing on some morning news segments on a couple local television stations, ostensibly fooling these local television personalities while touting his own DEI seminar, “The Do The Work! Workshop,” which he later advertised on a craigslist advertisement to recruit what are touted as unsuspecting marks. Before it is over, many walk out and one suspects several knew who he was. It is likely a few participants were plants.
The film succeeds in mocking many of the tenets of critical race theory and the “Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion” hivemind, often eliciting absurd comments simply by asking questions. Early in the film, he gets a manager at a hard-left bookstore in Boulder, Colorado, with the creative and imaginative name “The Boulder Bookstore” to state that “diverse” really just means non-white, unless a white person is LGBTQ-Yuck. Walsh outright mocks these cretins during his workshop in the end, but some of the gags are too much on the nose, tipping off many who just left.
One flaw with the film is much of the subject matter is less than timely. Criticism of both DiAngelo and “Race to Dinner” has been enunciated over the past few years by a number of persons representing a wide spectrum of thought, from mainstream conservatism to those with a much more radical perspective. In the latter half of the movie, Walsh even takes aim at the Jussie Smollett hoax, in relation to his interview with Reilly. That happened well over five years ago and it is inconceivable that anyone could learn anything from this portion of the film. The film did not educate this reviewer much about the perverse ideology espoused by the likes of Rao, Jackson, and DiAngelo or those of similar ilk. Because of Walsh’s masterful wording of questions, placed with perfect timing, he does bring into sharper relief some of the internal contradictions of this ideology. Many different segments reveal that anyone who adopts the absurd premises in White Fragility is in a Catch 22 situation, in which no matter what a white person says or does, that individual is condemned as racist. A white person claiming not to be racist is in fact proof of “racism,” according to these novel theories, but then again stating one is racist is a no-no as well. The best strategy is not to let them set the terms at all. The scene at the “Race to Dinner” gathering shows how truly contemptible these people are. During the struggle session, one of these harridans laments she felt empathy for a high school kid in the neighborhood who felt, almost certainly with justification, that he is being discriminated against because of affirmative action and other anti-white—not racist, but anti-white—policies. Rao in particular sneers that that is “white entitlement” among other dismissive remarks. The contempt she has for white people, including young white people trying to make something of their lives in a society that is touted as a meritocracy is striking. Another positive attribute is that this film also showcases how vapid leftist rhetoric really is, consisting of empty buzzwords and slogans like “Do the Work,” “Decenter yourself,” and others which Walsh takes aim at. Not only are these people incapable of formulating an original idea, they are incapable of expressing these tired, boring ideas in any sort of unique or interesting way.
Overall this film is decent enough, but not nearly on the same level as What Is a Woman? Aside from covering subject matter that has been discussed for several years now, the film unfortunately indulges a bit too much in the “Democrats are the real racists” bit. This is particularly palpable about half way through the film, in which he interacts with working class Trump supporters in a rural biker bar who explain how they do not see race, while also interviewing blacks expressing the same. At least one person even trots out the old chestnut that “we both bleed red.” That time, as well as the pointless segment about Jessie Smollett, could have been used to perhaps expose aspects of critical race theory that most viewers are not aware of, to say nothing of the time wasted rehashing the Jessie Smollett fiasco. The film could have informed viewers more about how DiAngelo gets paid an obscene amount of money by fortune 500 companies (she does mention she has worked with Amazon, Google, Netflix, and a couple of others), and how Fortune 500 companies have not been hiring whites since the George Floyd farce. Worst of all, the movie has an official rap music theme song, “Am I Racist” by Bryson Gray, which is so goofy it feels like a parody of mainstream conservatism. Walsh generally does not indulge in this sort of pandering, so one can only surmise this was handed down by Shapiro or someone else. It is cringe-inducing and exemplifies much of what is wrong with mainstream conservatism.
In the hours after watching this film, I oscillated between negative admonition and a limited recommendation with severe reservations. Ultimately I take the latter position. As with most mainstream fair, the film would serve an excellent purpose for those still “fence-sitting,” who are somehow unaware of odious individuals like Rao, Jackson, or DiAngelo, or the ideology they tout. Ostensibly there are some who are unaware of what this ideology and rhetoric persist of. Hearing and watching Rao and Jackson speak should instill real hatred and resentment in any self-respecting white person for those persons and the despicable but somehow affluent white women who pander to them. Indeed, it was somewhat surprising that much of the audience was laughing at such despicable people, and overall the film does offer some comic relief with good effect. The film however loses something in its lack of timeliness, as well as wasting so much time and energy insisting that those opposed to the evils of critical race theory and anti-white bias are not racist, that the “left are the real racists.” Someone, someday, needs to make a documentary on the real reasons for racial strife, namely blacks having an IQ between one and two standard deviations below the average white IQ, 13/50 actually being 13/60 and what is best described as a “racial commitment to crime,” as well as a racial minority that, on the whole, harbors real animus against whites that could charitably be described as strong resentment, but is far better described as a centuries-long, ancient hatred, all for bothering to emancipate them from slavery, killing or maiming hundreds of thousands of white men with the senseless bloodletting of the Civil War, squandering trillions of dollars in Great Society programs, affirmative action policies that are nothing other than naked discrimination against whites, and an onerous body of so-called Civil Rights laws that have eviscerated so many of our freedoms.
That of course is a different but closely related and intertwined topic, one covered by Jared Taylor, Gregory Hood, and of course Devon Stack. But it is with that more enlightened perspective that one best contemplates the ending moment of Walsh’s interjection in the “Race to Dinner,” in which he offers a toast predicated on the admission “I am Racist,” stating “raise a glass if you are racist,” playing of course on the internal contradiction of DiAngelo’s thesis that claiming not to be racist is somehow racist, obliging these do-goodies to confess their racism, while also pulling from the “the left are the real racists” bit. One should drink to that toast, but for reasons far different than envisaged by these despicable cretins.
Other related essays to be recommended:
“A Close Examination of ‘That’s Racist’ and Other Invectives”