Year-End Reflections: The Duchy of Fenwick, Revisited

copyright©2010twmcdermott

Imagine a once proud country, now on the brink of bankruptcy. The country has thrived for generations on the sale of a specialized product to another country. Suddenly, an unscrupulous producer in that importing country creates a far cheaper knock-off product, and overnight the exporting country is thrown into financial and social chaos.

What to do? The heads of state and their counsels, almost entirely composed of white males of modest intelligence, seem incapable of action. The titular head of state's cunning, conceited and completely self-assured prime minister hatches a foolproof plan: we must immediately declare war on the other country.

With what army, with what weapons, and with what funds, inquire the astounded counsels and titular head of state whose own father recently sat on the same high chair?

Do not be alarmed, answers the minister, we mean to lose the war as soon as possible. There is no more profitable enterprise than to declare war against the thieving country in question. They are universally known to forgive any transgression quickly and to shower the former adversary with riches, even if they have to borrow heavily to do it.

Our nation can move from bankruptcy to prosperity overnight, the PM declares!

Absurd you say? Exactly. A few of you may have recognized the plot of a brilliant 1959 film called The Mouse That Roared, starring Peter Sellers as the Grand Duchess of Fenwick, and  the Prime Minister, and the Commander of the Fenwickian troops, Tully Bascombe.

The fictional product in question was a wine called Pinot Grand Fenwick and it was almost exclusively exported to the United States until 1959, when a California vintner managed to duplicate the alpine wine's flavor and texture, as well as its distinctive label.

Of course, the twist that really powers the film is the fact that Tully leads his troops into Manhattan on the day of a nuclear drill, when the streets are empty, and they cannot find anyone to whom they can surrender. What's worse, or funnier (for moviegoers, not the PM), is that Tully is a patriotic zealot. He not only fails to lose, but he captures a scientist with knowledge of a doomsday weapon and wins the war in a single day.

For some reason, we've been thinking about that movie a lot lately.

Imagine a slightly different, more contemporary screenplay: weak, almost medieval foes who manage to engage a superpower in decades-long wars. Imagine their ministers stealing elections, wearing funny hats and openly carrying their new bags of borrowed superpower cash. Imagine chasing both real and feigned doomsday weapons for years and years and years, all the while borrowing and paying.

Also, imagine the superpower's citizenry mostly pretending that none of this really exists as far as their daily lives are concerned (except for the few military families and their friends) and focusing instead on the lives of its celebrities, their wealth, and their tips on raising children.

Funny, if it wasn't so ridiculous and completely unbelievable.


Ed Note: The Mouse That Roared was originally a novel by Leonard Wibberley. The film is available on DVD from Netflix. Highly recommended. Strangely, there is a Facebook page for the Duchy of Fenwick, written as if it actually existed.