Week’s L.A. Story Recalls ‘Crash’

I could have sworn I was right about the movie “Crash,” which I panned for its portrayal of a Los Angeles I didn’t recognize.

But in the past week, one L.A. story after another looked like it could have been a scene in the movie that won the 2005 best picture Oscar for asking why we can’t all just get along.

The trouble began with Los Angeles Police Department Chief Bill Bratton telling City Council members -- including his African American predecessor Bernard C. Parks -- to “mind their own business.” He said they didn’t know “what the hell they are talking about” when they jumped on him for hiring recruits who admitted to one-time drug use in the distant past.

Then we had L.A. County Superior Court Judge Pro Tem Bruce R. Fink threatening to have an alleged domestic abuse victim deported to Mexico as an illegal immigrant. She’d come seeking a restraining order against her husband, but when Fink found out she was here illegally, he started counting aloud, telling the woman to get lost.

“When I get to 20, she gets arrested and goes to Mexico,” Fink said.

The woman high-tailed it out of the courtroom and Fink dismissed the case, creating an odd new precedent in both immigration and family law.

Chapter three in the story of L.A.’s unraveling came on Thursday, when schools chief Roy Romer torpedoed Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa for his attacks on the district. The mayor’s propaganda, Romer said, was like the U.S. government’s justification for the internment of Japanese Americans during World War II.

Japanese Americans, along with the mayor, demanded an apology.

“I thought it was pretty offensive,” said former school board member Warren Furutani.

OK, here’s my take on these recent blowups.

Judge Fink?

I’m going to count to 20. If, by the time I finish, you can’t come up with a dozen good reasons never to ignore a woman’s plea for help in a domestic abuse case, give up the robe, the gavel and the courthouse parking space. You’re a county judge, not a Minuteman, and you’re not going to be able to fix the immigration mess in the time it takes to count to 20.

Roy Romer? Come on, Roy. This is Los Angeles, not Colorado, and you’ve been here long enough to know better than to compare potshots by Villaraigosa to the lockup of innocent Japanese Americans.

I will say, however, that I like seeing Romer stand up to the mayor, whose takeover complex can be annoying, especially since he’s stingy with details on what he’d do any differently than Romer.

And standing up to people is what I like about Bratton. We all know by now that Broadway Bill likes to run his mouth, which isn’t a bad thing around here. Los Angeles is corrupt and content, and one reason for it is the unwritten code that calls for polite and cordial relations among local leaders. It’s an old boys’ network, you might say, with one guy covering for the next and expecting the same in return.

That’s why I defended Bratton two years ago when, after a community uproar over the flashlight beating of a car thief, he called community activist Najee Ali “one of the biggest nitwits in Los Angeles.” I didn’t happen to agree, because I can name at least 100 bigger nitwits in Los Angeles. Actually, make that 200.

But I defend Bratton’s right to speak up for himself and his department, whether the subject is nitwits, botched flashlight beatings or one-time drug users.

What’s really offensive, by the way, is that five council members called for the Police Commission to investigate Bratton’s “unprofessional” comments about people who don’t know what the hell they’re talking about. If anyone out there can think of a bigger waste of the commission’s time, please let me know.

As for “Crash,” I was going to call the producers to apologize. That would have been a perfect ending here, because in the movie, people overcome their differences, even if they did so in a way that made me gag.

Unfortunately, I didn’t know whom to call. It turns out the producers are at war over credit for the movie.

Oh, come on, you bloody nitwits. Can’t we all just get along?

Reach the columnist at steve.lopez@latimes.com.