helicopter cop who has to slaughter his way through a violent reality-TV competition hosted by a deranged game-show emcee played by Richard Dawson. Outside, the world is burning after an apocalyptic economic collapse; on the show, convicted criminals battle WWE-esque enforcers in a fight for survival that turns civilizational collapse into fuel for runaway ratings. (The story is based on a novel by Stephen King, incidentally.) It's 1987's white-knuckle view of 2017, and Donald Trump — who started out as 1987's white-knuckle view of itself — is every single male character in the movie. He's the brutish cartoon-chainsaw killers (remember when he dabbled in pro wrestling?) and the grim hero snapping necks and one-liners to win over a hostile audience, and he's the leering, mic-swinging host who wants you to be afraid, truly afraid, of the world outside your door — not because he plans to fix it, but because it means you'll tune in to his show.
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