The 1976 film Network was, at the time of its' release, a groundbreaking satire on the ability of corporate-owned television's ability to spread information (false or not), and memorable for one of its' protagonists, the news anchor turned Cassandra of the airwaves, Howard Beale. In without question the most memorable scene in the film, Beale interrupts a news broadcast to launch a wild-eyed, impassioned diatribe, which you'll see below:

This scene is memorable for 2 reasons: one, Beale's "I'm Mad As Hell" rant sets the tone for the film, the tone capturing the unease and mistrust that seeped throughout the 1970's, and, two, the power of one particular television personality to influence viewers (yes, I'm talking to you, Oprah). The outcome of Beale's so-called impromptu rant (and I'll say "so-called" for reasons I'll explain below) is his transformation from a respected journalist to a mad prophet of the airwaves, barking incessantly about how evil and corrupt our society has become, beckoning his audience to resist fear and "get angry."

I love this scene, as much as I love this film, and one can't help but feel some sense of motivation to shout to the heavens how mad as hell you really are. But I could never help but feel that Beale's transformation wasn't in any way accidental. Beale was facing the axe for his news program's low ratings, and, coupled with his earlier threat to commit suicide on the air and his rant about how everything was "bullshit," I'm inclined to believe that Beale's transformation was completely an object of his own doing, and not driven by, as one scene demonstrated, his following the voice of God he heard one night, commanding him to use his celebrity to preach the gospel of apocalypse and paranoia. Beale struggles with both alcoholism and a crumbling grasp on sanity, but I'm less inclined to believe his character's insanity; the insanity was fueled, I think, by his alcoholism, and, in a moment of clarity, Beale understood that in order to remain relevant in the then-fast paced and fast-changing world of corporate-owned television, he had to re-invent himself as a populist, feeding upon the unspoken fears of an American television viewing audience. And it worked, but at the expense of Beale whoring himself at the bidding of his corporate masters - witness his new news program, complete with psychics, salacious gossip and the worst kind of yellow journalism possible.

The reason why I believe Beale's impromptu rant was not as impromptu as we're lead to believe is quietly revealed early in the film. Beale and his boss and longtime friend Max Schumacher are leaving a colleague's funeral, and lamenting the passing days of their craft. They're both relics of a suddenly-bygone era, when the news was expected to be delivered with integrity. Both Beale and Schumacher know their times have come, but, whereas Schumacher is painfully resigned to slowly fading away (and indulging in a destructive affair with Diana Christensen, that ruthlessly ambitious, she-devil of a corporate superstar, who is all too eager and willing to exploit Beale for the sake of a ratings bonanza), Howard Beale isn't ready to give up his mantle. Exit the well-respected journalist. Enter the unhinged television guru of madness and fear.

Two-thirds of the way into the film, after Beale rages against a proposed merger between UBS and a Saudi conglomerate, he meets with UBS'chairman Arthur Jenses (who is truly the mad one in this film); Jensen commands Beale to stop his on-air rants against the merger, which Beale quickly and quietly agrees to. Why would Beale, in the midst of unprecedented popularity, agree to tone down his image and rhetoric? Simple: Beale does what he's told. Beale is far too willing to be exploited by his masters at UBS for the sake of high ratings and higher revenues. Beale understands he's part of the machinery, one that pumps bullshit in alarmingly high volumes.

One who has often compared himself to Howard Beale is Glenn Beck. Some have howled at Beck having the nerve to compare himself to Howard Beale, but I think the comparison is apt. Beck can't claim the journalistic integrity Beale once had, but he can compare himself to being a ratings-obsessed corporate whore. Since Beck moved to Fox News from the irrelevant HLN, he's been willing to play CEO Roger Ailes' game of spreading misinformation, fear and loathing (sorry, HST). Beck was quite accomplished in playing the hard-core right-wing conservative - bashing illegal immigrants, liberals, and "islamofascism" were daily occurances on his show - but he's played up to this notion that he's now, on Fox, some kind of populist standing up for the little guy, when all he's done, really, is found a larger and more dangerously powerful microphone from which he can spew his vile invective and his paranoid fantasties. He hasn't sold himself out, the way Howard Beale did, but Beck, like Beale, understood that in order to remain relevant, integrity and the truth must be sold out to for the sake of ratings. His silence is paid for with the lure of ratings and relevancy, and, as such, he's revealed to be a false prophet, all too willing to allow himself to be corrupted.

Beale's downfall wasn't his toning down of his rhetoric, which, in turn, caused his ratings to plummet - and, in turn, led the network to assasinate him, live on television, in haze of bullets, all for committing the crime of losing ratings - but, instead, his inability to take that rage that he and his audience felt and channel it into change. Instead, viewers were either all too consumed with watching him become more and more unhinged on the air, rather than take action in their lives and affect positive changes. On the flip side, Beck has avoided this cardinal sin; his controversial tone has earned him higher ratings and he's spurred his audience to take to the streets. Of course, we've all bore witness to his "9/12 Project" and his ability to lure the lunatic fringe out of their comfort zones and hurl some of the most hideous invective unseen since the Civil Rights Movement. Sure, Beck has been a patriot of change, but what kind of change, and at what cost?

In comparing himself to Howard Beale, Glenn Beck must subconsciously be aware of the irony of that comparison. Beck wants you and everyone else out there to believe him when he tells you he's a man of the people, so in love with his country that he's just not going to sit back and allow the government and corporate interests and everything else that's leading America into a social/political/economic/moral morass. The thing is, Howard Beale wanted you to believe that as well. The only comparison Beck can truly make with Beale is that they're both soulless demagogues, all too eager to exploit fears and prejudices in ways that will only benefit themselves and their corporate employers. Say what you want about the 9/12 Project; all Beck has succeed in is rounding up a posse of hysteria, bigotry (if not outright racism) and fear, with only thoughts of mayhem and violence in their eyes. That's how you reach the masses. I don't question Glenn Beck's love for America, even if it is ridiculously misguided and overwrought with both ugliness and manipulative melodramatics. I question Beck's desire for "the truth." Like his contemporaries on both sides of the political equation, one cannot claim to be seeking the truth when you're all about spreading lies, for the sake of attracting viewership.

That was the beauty of a film like Network. With its' stinging satirical point of view, it revealed the ugly truth that there's no such thing as integrity, and that a respected news anchor like Howard Beale could be corrupted and made to believe in his own inflated sense of worth. Taking that into consideration, you can compare the fictional Beale to Glenn Beck, or to Oprah Winfrey or Bill O'Reilly or Keith Olbermann or Simon Cowell - there's no "truth" in what they do, only their insistence that who they are dictates how we should (or shouldn't) think. You can't help but feel that behind Glenn Beck's tear-stained rants lies the notion of the real truth, one I'm sure Beck is well-aware of, one that reminds him constantly to forget dignity and integrity, when there's books to be sold, ratings to be won, profits to be shared. And when Glenn Beck no longer remains relevant, Beck will too face the same fate, metaphorically of course, that Howard Beale faced.

Howard Beale is alive and well. And his name is Glenn Beck.