Watch out, Indian country. Before we know it, the entire Gibson meltdown will be the fault of those hundreds of thousands of Maya people who didn't collapse with the pyramids, and the governor of California will find a way to blame it on casinos near the Pacific Coast Highway.
Gibson has said that the movie has been an anthropological journey for him. Terrific. We'll probably get the version of history that says the Maya did themselves in by the excesses of civilization and improvident environmental stewardship.
The sound of the film is a Mayan dialect very few Maya people speak today and what's said to be ancient Mayan music. That is, I guess, to make the people incomprehensible and more like scenery, pottery, jewelry and makeup than like human beings.
The film script is a super-duper secret written by Gibson and his assistant, Farhad Safina. The buzz is that it's Gibson's bloodiest, goriest movie so far. That makes it about a 15 on a blood-and-gore scale of one to 10.
Great. We can look forward to a Christmas holiday bloodfest that invites people to hate Indians and to think that we close some ceremonies to hide human sacrifices, rather than for privacy from prying eyes and camera lenses.
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