Matt Walsh’s Am I Racist? Properly Reviewed

Chester Finch (he/him) is a film critic and the Robert Mapplethorpe Professor of Pre-Colonial Criticism at Harvard University’s Department of Inclusionary Art.

Right-wing provocateur and Daily Wire blogger Matt Walsh recently befouled American movie theaters with his immoral hate flick, Am I Racist?

Walsh masquerades as a certiffied diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) instructor to lampoon an industry to which I have contributed thousands of dollars to exorcise the inherent racism that I didn’t realize I harbored until a DEI expert told me I did.

This cinematic abortion boasts a 98 percent positive audience score on Rotten Tomatoes based on more than 1,000 verified ratings. Mainstream media “Top Critic” reviews appear noticeably absent. Perfect.

Media critics should never acknowledge art that challenges or mocks fundamental tenets of woke progressivism. Chiefly, whiteness equals racism you can never conquer but can mitigate if you have a large enough wallet. You redeem yourself by paying a DEI instructor to harangue you into thinking you’re an irredeemable bigot unless you “do the work” to decolonize yourself from your whiteness.

How you do the work is a bit murky. It seems to involve me paying ever-increasing sums of money to DEI specialists like Saira Rao to say, “So, our pedagogy is white women. Stop caping for whiteness. Stop … propping up whiteness. Join gender intersectional solidarity, and we can overthrow all of it.”

I’m all for overthrowing whiteness; however, other than genocide, I’m not sure how you do it. Regardless, Rao and her charming business partner Regina Jackson unwittingly appeared in Walsh’s film for $5,000 to eat dinner with and badger the racism out of a dozen educated white female Kamala Harris supporters.

Walsh, pretending to be a waiter, interrupts the Race 2 Dinner meal to crow about his DEI credentials and coaxes the ladies to raise their glasses to toast their racism. Jackson, who spends the dinner denigrating whiteness, laughs and lowers her glass, stating, “Wait a minute, I’m not racist.”

I attended an Am I Racist? showing and observed moviegoers the way Jane Goodall does chimps. These specimens uproariously laughed whenever a DEI instructor offered profundities like, “Decentering whiteness requires a strategic approach to split the subconsciously racist part of the holistic self from the consciously racist self to reflect how the racial hierarchy builds upon the white patriarchal hegemony that oppresses a Black, Indigenous, People of Color (BIPOC) orthodoxy.”

A DEI expert says something like that and asks Walsh, “Does that make sense?” And Walsh deadpans, “Yes, what do you mean?” People couldn’t contain their laughter!

Ordinary, uneducated white men and women tell Walsh they are not racist and don’t notice skin color, which is the most racist thing you can say in 2024. Worse, a salt-of-the-earth African American man says he feels likewise. Anyone watching might conclude most Americans hold this misguided view and, therefore, will never uproot their inherent racism, thereby depriving well-meaning DEI experts of millions of dollars.

Walsh acts as a pied piper to this illiterate horde. He possesses nothing more than a high school education. While anyone can opine, lacking a college degree disqualifies you from serious consideration and signifies someone prone to making poor personal and financial decisions. I might take Walsh seriously if he had gone $675,000 into debt to obtain a Ph.D. in Gender Fluid Marionette Puppetry the way I did.

Sadly, some of the most educated (ergo, morally superior) people in the world fell for Walsh’s chicanery, except for Ibram X. Kendi, the high priest of antiracism, who wrote, “The only remedy to past discrimination is present discrimination.”

If that doesn’t scream inclusion, nothing does. But Kendi escaped Walsh’s predations by either figuring out his identity or requesting $50,000 for a two-hour chat.

The same cannot be said for antiracist high priestess Robin DiAngelo, author of White Fragility, who spoke to Walsh’s faux persona for $15,000, only to be tricked into paying $30 in slavery reparations to one of Walsh’s black producers. DiAngelo gave the producer whatever was in her purse. I would’ve cut a check for at least $1,000 at the risk of overdrawing my account.

Walsh describes DiAngelo and her like-minded DEI practitioners as grifters who prey upon naïve, guilt-ridden dupes the way three-card monte dealers sucker marks into following the queen (Kendi offers an excellent hour-long course on this for $10,000).

How else should DiAngelo, Kendi, Rao, and Jackson earn a living other than by stoking racial resentment? They have families to feed. Walsh has a speaking fee for whenever he pollutes minds with his “judging people by the content of their character” tripe. As one of the DEI instructors in the film dismissively says, “Martin Luther King said a lot of stuff.”

Mocking antiracism serves to delegitimize it. Based on the theater laughter, the movement could be in trouble. We must fight back! Leave humor to comedians like Hannah Gadsby, and what is acceptable for review (e.g., “Porky’s,” “Dude, Where’s My Car?,” “Orgazmo”) to cultured, tolerant people like me.

READ MORE from Matt Walsh:

A Draft of the Democrat Party Platform

The Secret Service Chief’s Rousing Testimony

 

 

 

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