I like what he says. Any realist would—at least halfway. Billy Bob Thornton does a fine job laying bare just how expensive and how dirty so-called green energy really is. None of that is controversial if you bother to look past the press releases. It’s all true, as far as it goes. But what’s striking is the one thing he never addresses: how utterly unreal the climate alarmist script itself has become.
Not just exaggerated. Unreal. How thin the science is once you strip away the modeling assumptions. How hollow the narratives are. How aggressively people are being duped. And how eagerly the masses volunteer for the role of useful idiot. This isn’t a failure of intelligence so much as a collapse of intellectual hygiene.
The girl is presented as a high-powered lawyer—sharp, competent, trained to think critically. The kind of person who should recognize a fraud the moment it walks into the room wearing a costume. And yet she can’t see past the most elementary deception. She doesn’t question it. She doesn’t probe it. She embraces the scam fully, emotionally, spiritually—every fiber of her being surrendered to the script.
Now, to be fair, this is an actress playing a role. We don’t know her actual beliefs and shouldn’t pretend we do. But the role itself confirms the central dogma: that we are in a climate catastrophe, that the danger is real and existential, and that the only problem is we don’t yet have a reliable way to deal with it. That framing is everywhere. And it is wrong.
The lie isn’t that the solutions are inadequate. The lie is upstream. Fundamental. Structural.
So the question is obvious: when will we get movies—popular movies, with real stars—that address the core deception? When will Hollywood admit that it sold a scam because catastrophe makes for better theater than sobriety? When will it acknowledge that it traded truth for spectacle and moral panic because panic sells tickets?
You want the honest answer?
Never.
That moment will not come. When “climate change” as a cultural product becomes so unpopular that even Hollywood can no longer defend it with a straight face, they won’t recant. They won’t apologize. They won’t clean up their act. They will simply drop it. Quietly. Instantly. As if it had never existed. No reckoning. No post-mortem. No admission of guilt.
So yes—Billy Bob Thornton ranting is enjoyable. It’s cathartic. It scratches an itch. But it’s nowhere near enough. It doesn’t touch the root. It doesn’t challenge the lie itself. And because of that, it doesn’t change a thing.