The Oscar for best picture in 1995 went to Forrest Gump. This piece is not about Forrest Gump, or any of the contents of his box of chocolates.

Rather, in that same year, there was released another film, currently, and I believe unfairly, consigned to the cutting room floor of history. I speak, of course, of that cinematic tour-de-force, Canadian Bacon, starring Alan Alda, John Candy, and Rhea Perlman of Cheers fame, and directed by Michael Moore (yes, that Michael Moore).

Canadian Bacon is a cautionary tale for our time.

A president with significantly low poll numbers casts about for a way to
improve his political fortunes. He decides that if he can ratchet up
international tensions, he can play the tough guy, the public will rally around
their president, and he will come of it respected and beloved by all.

The problem is recruiting an appropriate target to play the heavy. Russia isn’t
interested, the boogie men of the period are inconveniently dead, and care has to be taken that the partner to the dance is unlikely to overreact.

Television footage of a riot at a Toronto Maple Leaf hockey game, ignited by
the John Candy character’s derogatory comments about the quality of
Canadian beer, causes the presidential brain trust to kick into high gear.

Canada is close enough that most, although not all, Americans would know
where it was, yet far enough away to seem kind-of-foreign. Most Canadians
speak a form of English, except the wine-drinking-snail-eating-French-speaking Quebecois, so Americans would understand they were being insulted if indeed they were being insulted.

But best of all, Canada seemed serenely inoffensive.

A friendly network (unnamed in the film, but it probably rhymes with “socks”)
cooperates in whipping up the masses with scare headlines like “The Canadians. They walk among us. Undetected!”, or “Operation Canadian Bacon: A line in the snow.”

It works like a charm. Patriotism degenerates to xenophobia, and xenophobia
spreads like fire and fury across the nation. Finally, in a smoky (remember, it’s a pre-smoking ban) boozy bar across the river in Niagara Falls, John Candy’s character and his wee band of cronies decide to take things into their own hands and invade Canada. Their first act of sabotage is to spread litter on the Canadian river bank.

Candy’s bellicose and armed-to-the-teeth compatriots are faced with unfailingly polite Canadian Mounted Police who seem, more than anything else, bemused, by the unfolding events. There is a nice older couple, who constitute the entire night shift at the Canadian power plant and offer the invaders some milk and cookies. Rather than being suborned by such tactics,Candy’s squad begins pulling switches, and, yes, you guessed it, great swathes of Canada and the United States go black.

As things spin out of control, it all blows up in the president’s face. He is
defeated in the next election by the largest margin in history and ends up hosting an early morning talk show in Cleveland.

Nuclear missiles and a clock counting down to doomsday are also involved,
but if you want the details, turn on your Netflix machine or whatever.

Now, about the cautionary tale.

After the recent G7 meeting in Canada, Canadian Prime Minister Justin
Trudeau held a press conference. It is standard procedure for the leader of the
host country to hold a wrap-up press conference. Our president was not there
because he had left the conference early for his photo op with Kim Jong-un in
Singapore.

Prime Minister Trudeau, in his prepared remarks, made nice about what had
been a tense, and not very successful summit. Our president’s penchant for
going it alone did not go down well with those who had thought themselves to
be our allies rather than our adversaries.

In response to a reporter’s question, Prime Minister Trudeau said that while
Canadians were polite and reasonable, they would not be pushed around by
anyone.

Whereupon, our president, winging his way across the Pacific, became
unhinged. Dismissively referring to the head of government of our closest
neighbor as “weak” and “dishonest,” he darkly predicted the comment “was
going to cost a lot of money for the people of Canada.”

On the talk shows that following Sunday, his Trumpophants doubled and
trebled down – angrily talking about knives in the back and, in one instance
since quasi retracted, consigning the Canadian prime minister to a “special
place in hell” for daring to contradict President Donald John Trump.

Come on, folks! Every head of state has the right to keep his domestic
audience in mind. Donald John Trump certainly does. In response to the
question, what was Trudeau supposed to say? That he was willing to make his
nation an international door mat?

I suspect the prime minister of Lichtenstein (population 38,143) would say
the same thing in response to the same question.

Mr. President, chill. Don’t mess with Canada. Negotiate trade differences with
them if you feel it necessary, but don’t belittle them in the process.

Canadians are unfailingly polite and reasonable. Americans like them – even
your supporters like the frozen chosen from Up North. Eh?

By badgering the Canadians, you are coming across as a bully, and should you
continue, as in Canadian Bacon, it will likely not come to a good end.

So, okay, maybe Forrest Gump was the better movie.