US President Donald Trump's recent remarks about the military operation that overthrew Venezuelan president Nicolás Maduro have been likened to a scene straight out of a classic 80s action movie - albeit one that Trump himself seems to be desperately trying to direct.
The comparison isn't hard to see, given Trump's penchant for bombastic language and his tendency to revel in the theatrics of war. In press conference after press conference, he has played the role of tough, bronzed leader, firing RPGs up the tailpipe of international diplomacy - all while dispatching anyone who dares oppose him with a flick of his wrist.
Trump's own 80s action movie fantasies seem to be largely drawn from the playbook of Arnold Schwarzenegger and Sylvester Stallone. His foreign policy is a throwback to the belligerent cinema of that bygone era, when unilateralism was literal - a lone meathead serving American righteousness to hordes of faceless foes.
The irony isn't lost on Trump's critics: he has long since abandoned all pretence of subtlety or nuance in his approach to foreign policy. Instead, he is reverting to the natural frame of reference with which to package up his adventurism - namely, a cartoonish, stereotypical worldview that owes more to blockbuster Hollywood than the realities of geopolitics.
For Trump, Venezuela has been little more than a convenient distraction from other pressing concerns - like the Epstein case and the Russia saga. And now, as he tunes into the live feed of Greenland's Arctic terrain, it seems likely that this latest Cold War proxy war will be his next ticket to stardom.
While Trump may not have the acting chops to pull off a role like his alleged favourite - Rocky Balboa - his ability to convincingly play the part of 'bad guy' is hard to dispute. And who's to say he isn't actually living out some twisted fantasy about himself as a tough, no-nonsense action hero?
One thing's for sure: Trump's politics have taken a dark and paranoid turn - one that recalls more the films of Martin Scorsese than Ronald Reagan. In an era where conspiracy theories are running rampant and reality itself seems to be bending to fit his narrative, it's hard not to see Trump as some sort of Manchurian Candidate.
But for all his bombast and bravado, Trump is ultimately trapped in a movie he didn't write - one that keeps getting rewritten by the forces of politics and history. And though we can laugh at his antics now, it's anyone's guess what role he'll be cast as next: the hero, or the villain?
The comparison isn't hard to see, given Trump's penchant for bombastic language and his tendency to revel in the theatrics of war. In press conference after press conference, he has played the role of tough, bronzed leader, firing RPGs up the tailpipe of international diplomacy - all while dispatching anyone who dares oppose him with a flick of his wrist.
Trump's own 80s action movie fantasies seem to be largely drawn from the playbook of Arnold Schwarzenegger and Sylvester Stallone. His foreign policy is a throwback to the belligerent cinema of that bygone era, when unilateralism was literal - a lone meathead serving American righteousness to hordes of faceless foes.
The irony isn't lost on Trump's critics: he has long since abandoned all pretence of subtlety or nuance in his approach to foreign policy. Instead, he is reverting to the natural frame of reference with which to package up his adventurism - namely, a cartoonish, stereotypical worldview that owes more to blockbuster Hollywood than the realities of geopolitics.
For Trump, Venezuela has been little more than a convenient distraction from other pressing concerns - like the Epstein case and the Russia saga. And now, as he tunes into the live feed of Greenland's Arctic terrain, it seems likely that this latest Cold War proxy war will be his next ticket to stardom.
While Trump may not have the acting chops to pull off a role like his alleged favourite - Rocky Balboa - his ability to convincingly play the part of 'bad guy' is hard to dispute. And who's to say he isn't actually living out some twisted fantasy about himself as a tough, no-nonsense action hero?
One thing's for sure: Trump's politics have taken a dark and paranoid turn - one that recalls more the films of Martin Scorsese than Ronald Reagan. In an era where conspiracy theories are running rampant and reality itself seems to be bending to fit his narrative, it's hard not to see Trump as some sort of Manchurian Candidate.
But for all his bombast and bravado, Trump is ultimately trapped in a movie he didn't write - one that keeps getting rewritten by the forces of politics and history. And though we can laugh at his antics now, it's anyone's guess what role he'll be cast as next: the hero, or the villain?