HOLLYWOOD has a long history of serving up social messages with its celluloid. And while some movies aim to kick the cosy collective butt, other movies aim to massage it. Dear Slyvester Stallone, the actor that defines the grunt-and-punch-for-America genre, is certainly more masseur than kicker and Rocky IV (Tonight, World, 9.30 pm) is a great example of its kind. It's a dire sequal that combines the American dream with a large dollop of typical Hollywood jingoism. Grunter supreme Sly gets to do what every Cold War American wanted to do (or what every Hollywood studio thought every American wanted to do). He heads to Moscow and busts a commie's skull.
Much better at analysing the American pysche is Betsy's Wedding, a fast and witty cross-cultural comedy. When Betsy (Molly Ringwald) tells her Jewish mother and Italian American father (played by the movie's director, Alan Alda, pictured left with Ringwald) that she's going to marry a straight-laced WASP (Joey Bishop), Mum cries then insists on a Jewish wedding. Dad, who is broke, insists he must pay for everything and an invitation list as long as a phone directory is drawn up, amidst much wonderful New York angst. The values are plain dumb, the plot occasionally clumsy but Alda's script is witty enough and the observations are close to the bone.
An example of sociology-minded Hollywood at its best is Red River (Thursday, Pearl, 1.30 am). On the surface, it's a superbly-shot Western epic, a darkly humorous cattle-train yarn that celebrates man's determination to conquer civilisation but director Howard Hawks also deftly explores themes of conformity and belonging. At the same time, it pits liberalism against authoritarianism, with the disciplinarian cattle-train leader (the chisel-jawed - and suitably typecast - John Wayne, left) represents authority.
A Fish Called Wanda (Friday, 9.30 pm) is in no way an exploration of social mores. It's an old-fashioned (and very funny) Ealing comedy in which Kevin Kline won an Oscar for his comic macho performance and Jamie Lee Curtis and John Cleese (left) star as the most unlikely celluloid lovers since Fay Wray fell for King Kong.
Spike Lee's (left) Do The Right Thing, on the other hand, contains as hard-hitting a social comment as you'll find. It's a Brooklyn mean-streets tale of woe - set over a sweaty and hot 24 hours - that centres on the racial tension between Koreans, blacks, Hispanics and whites (cops). Lee tries to put across all the racial gripes, avoids veering toward sentimentalism and still retains humour. What's more, it has a very cool sound track and from start to finish buzzes with a very realistic feel of claustrophobic urban anger. Now, I wonder how tough old Sly would have dealt with that one. Bang, bang, bang . . .?