Tom Palazzolo Collection > SERIES I: Finished Films by Tom Palazzolo

America's In Real Trouble

Transcript (Download)

Down through the years, there have been men, brave, gallant men, who have done that others might be free.

And even now, they do it still.

Brave, gallant men, know that someone can still live.

Gallant men have built us a nation, passed us a torch of flame.

Let us hold it high and light up the sky.

With praise of our gallant men.

When Jack and Marge are home again, we'll raise our eyes.

Long live our love, long live our happiness.

Here's a toast to happiness, long live our love.

When we were childs with sweet hearts, we had made a simple vow.

Vows to love each other, and I know we won't stop now.

Long live our love, long live our happiness.

Here's a toast to happiness, long live our love.

Something's come between us, and it's not another girl.

But a lot of people need you, they're in trouble in the world.

It's the fighting that has come between us, and it's taken you far, far away.

But please don't wonder if I'll be faithful, you're in my heart both night and day.

So darling, I send my love to you, while you are fighting overseas.

And I know one day we are lucky, God will send you back to me.

Long live our love, long live our happiness.

Here's a toast to happiness, long live our love.

Please, please Lord, don't let anything happen to her, please.

I'm waiting for you, Johnny, I'm waiting.

Long live our love, long live our happiness.

Here's a toast to happiness, long live our love.

Long live our love, long live our happiness.

Fighting soldiers from the sky, fearless men who jump and die.

Men who mean just what they say.

The brave men of the Green Beret.

Silver wings upon their chests, these are men, America's best.

One hundred men will test today, but only three when the Green Beret.

Trained to live off nature's land, trained in combat hand to hand.

Men who fight by night and day, courage take from the Green Beret.

Silver wings upon their chests, these are men, America's best.

One hundred men will test today, but only three when the Green Beret.

Back at home, a young wife waits.

Her Green Beret has met his fate.

He has died for those oppressed.

Leaving her, this last request.

Put silver wings on my son's chest.

Make him one of America's best.

He'll be a man, they'll test one day.

Have him win, the Green Beret.

There's a star spangled on a way, big somewhere.

In a distant land, so many miles away.

Only Uncle Sam's great heroes get to go there.

That is also where I want to live someday.

I'd see Lincoln, Custer, Washington and Perry.

Nathan Hale and Colin Kelly too.

There's a star spangled banner waving somewhere.

Waving on the land of heroes, brave and true.

Though I realize I'm crippled, that is true, sir.

Please don't judge my courage by my twisted legs.

Let me show my Uncle Sam what I can do, sir.

Let me help to bring the enemy down a path.

If I do some great deed, I will be a hero.

And a hero brave is what I want to be.

There's a star spangled banner waving somewhere.

In that heaven, there must be a place for me.

In that heaven, there must be a place for me.

The other day I heard someone say, You know, America is in real trouble.

It's true.

Old glory has never fallen so close to the earth.

Our embassies are being stoned.

Our diplomats are often in fear for their lives.

And we're involved in a half dozen nameless, winless conflicts, spilling American blood on foreign soil.

Our young men are dying for ideals which don't seem to mean too much to Americans anymore.

The truth is, America's real trouble doesn't lie in the rice paddies of Vietnam, in the masses of Red China, or in the diabolical intrigues to the south of us.

The real trouble lies in the playgrounds of St.

Louis, the hillside mansions of San Francisco, and in the slums of Chicago.

The disease which is slowly eating away at the heart of America lives in the small southern towns, the fishing villages of New England, and in the hot, dusty streets of the Midwest.

This is the age of the American cynic, the year of the unbeliever, the day of doubt.

We've killed all the sacred cows and destroyed all the images, and there's nothing left to respect.

Old -fashioned love of God, country, and family is passe.

We stare at our shoelaces when they play the national anthem.

We wouldn't want to be seen at a political rally or a town hall meeting, and we don't want to be caught with our eyes closed during public prayers.

We've decided the only way to get into public office is to buy it.

Our heroes are the fast guys who get away with things.

Patriotism, the old hand over the heart, flag -waving, singing patriotism, has been condemned.

Think about this.

Patriotism, when you tear away the fancy phrases in great paper, is plain and simple pride.

It's a new car, prettier girl, bigger house sort of pride and country.

Somewhere along the way we've lost that pride.

Our form of government is the same.

We still say America stands for the same things.

But next time you're at a party, ask someone to sing America with you and see what happens.

The basic ideals and structure of America hasn't changed.

We have.

You and me.

Our enemies know it.

They've seen the newsreels of the discontented marching around the Capitol.

They've distorted and blown up our mistakes.

They've been putting steel wedges in the cracks in our wall of solidarity.

The new idea is, don't attack America, wear it down gradually.

It'll eventually fall under the weight of its own corruption.

And did you know it's working? This sneering complacency, once stamped out by the bloody feet of a tattered Continental Army in 1776, once drowned beneath the keel of the USS Arizona in Pearl Harbor Bay, has risen again.

This deadly let George do it attitude lights the way for the Viet Cong and the swampy jungles of Vietnam.

This better rid than dead cancer is more feared by the American soldier than all the communist mortar shells.

It kills the vitality and spirit of America.

Democracy is a frail and fragile instrument made of hope, prayer, and Yankee ingenuity.

It is held together by Fourth of July flag -waving patriotism, and we've almost exhausted our supply.

Try this test.

Lift your eyes to a flag, then sing out, as loud as you can, that old outworn antiquated freedom hymn you learned so many years ago.

For Purple Mountain's majesty.

Above the fruited plain.

America.

America.

God shed his grace on me.

Now if you feel a little pride welling up inside of you, if you feel a little mist in your eye, then thank God for you, mister.

You're still an American.

America.

America.

God shed his grace on me.

And crown my good with brotherhood.

God shed his grace on me.

Identifier
F.2013-08-0030
Date Of Production
1967
Abstract
A cynical look at America's might, both military and civilian, to the tune of pop songs, filmed at Chicago's Memorial Day parade.
Description
This experimental documentary begins with footage of architectural structures in Chicago; residents in dilapidated buildings looking out onto the lavish Memorial Day parade taking place outside their windows. The scenes immediately following this are humorous depictions of children sleepily waving flags, baton twirlers dropping their batons, and signs in the parade floats celebrating sanitation, e.g. “Sanitation is a way of life” next to a giant trash can. 
 
The film features footage of the Walgreens on State Street in Downtown Chicago, as well as the Abraham Lincoln Head of State monument in Grant Park. 

Simultaneously satirical and earnest, America is in Real Trouble is emblematic of the political, activist filmmaking that galvanized many independent and underground filmmakers in the 1960s and '70s. Palazzolo vividly captures the streets of Chicago as its citizens take part in a Memorial Day parade, featuring green berets, baton twirlers, and lavish floats, all in celebration of the nation’s military and in a show of support for the war in Vietnam. The sonic backdrop begins with dry narration of the country’s “state of affairs,” but then moves on to include songs by the Shangri-Las, Sargent Barry Sadler’s novelty hit from 1966 "Ballad of the Green Beret," as well as notable protest songs from the era. 
Run Time
0:16:09
Format
16mm
Extent
581 feet
Color
Color
Sound
Optical
Reel/Tape Number
1/1
Has Been Digitized?
Yes
Language Of Materials
English
Element
Print
Genre
Documentary
Experimental
Form
Short
Subject
Chicago (Ill.)
Parades and processions
Vietnam War, 1961-1975
Political satire
Related Collections
SERIES I: Finished Films by Tom Palazzolo

Related Places
North America ➜ United States ➜ Illinois ➜ Chicago

Main Credits
Palazzolo, Tom (is filmmaker)

 
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