U should care, at least a little, about the new Melania documentary

After all, we're slogging our way through the denouement, thanks in part to Bezos

The working title of Amazon’s newly announced documentary about Melania Trump is “I Really Don’t Care, Do U?”

OK, maybe I didn’t read that anywhere, but what name is better suited for the latest piece of tawdry jewelry in an ever-escalating spree of gifts from Jeff Bezos to Donald Trump? (Elon Musk had better step up his game or he’s going to lose First Fanboy status or maybe even the presidency.)

Before we get to Bezos loading his principles onto an Amazon truck bound for oblivion, let us review just how bonkers this documentary is, even before it begins production.

Amazon flacks say the company is “excited to share this truly unique story.” I suppose it’s a good thing someone is excited. I’d rather risk having a sozzled Rudy Guiliani or Pete Hegseth drive me across town or even endure an hour of Matt Gaetz regaling me with details of his sex life like I was some congressional shmuck in the middle of legislating.

Speaking of photos, if the director of the documentary – more on his bona fides in a moment – chooses to address Melania’s modeling career, I hope there are plenty of photos to sustain the interest of Trump’s followers, whose attention spans are as notoriously short as their idol’s fingers.

There is, of course, the infamous shot of the future First Lady sprawled across a white grand piano while Donald sits at the keys, one elbow perched on the piano top like a boss while he makes a face remarkably like his angry mug shot pose at the Fulton County jail in Atlanta. (Had she interrupted his best-ever rendition of “Chopsticks”? )

Then there are photos from the years Melania was a fashion model for what appears to have been women’s apparel from the Emperor’s New Clothes line. The New York Post published several showing her au naturel, including one with her face turned to the camera as she puts her hands on a wall and displays her buttocks – this, perhaps, her presciently artistic take on the upcoming Stephen Miller-orchestrated roundup of undocumented immigrants and anyone who looks vaguely “alien” to him.

These elegant portraits are noteworthy, but I’m partial to the shot of her in her birthday suit, stretched out on a fur in what appears to be an airplane, if only to marvel at all that leg room.

There’s nothing wrong with the unadorned human form, of course, generally speaking. But like many of you, I will forever associate these photos with the Republican uproar over Michelle Obama wearing a sleeveless dress early in her husband’s administration.

This was deemed unprofessional and disrespectful for a First Lady, even though, at various times, Americans had been similarly scarred by the nekkid upper limbs of Eleanor Roosevelt, Jackie Kennedy and Nancy Reagan, among others. Michelle Obama’s offense was, of course, being black, which in Trump’s world is best handled discreetly, with a maid or bellhop uniform or appointment as Secretary of Housing and Urban Development, the only Cabinet position acceptable for a person from that part of the Crayola box.

Let’s also not forget the aforementioned “I Really Don’t Care, Do U?” These words were memorably emblazoned on a $39 jacket the ordinarily high-couture First Lady was photographed wearing to a 2018 visit to migrant children traumatically separated from their parents by her husband and Stephen Miller. (Not so shockingly, you can find the jacket on Amazon.)

Melania later explained that the jacket was a message for the “left-wing media” reporting on her and The Donald. Surely those mewling, snot-nosed kids understood the subtext.

The director of Amazon’s homage to Melanie, one Brett Ratner, might also choose to shed some light on the First Lady’s own arrival to our shores as immigrant, albeit from the proper part of the world’s Crayola box. Her convoluted, non-vermin origin story, about as opaque at Musk’s immigration status, has long been of interest to many of us not wearing a red hat.

Now, Ratner. Yes, he’s an experienced Hollywood hand, having produced and directed “X-Men: the Last Stand,” among other films. But I suspect his chief qualification for this particular job is that he has been accused of sexual harassment and misconduct by six women.

Here’s how The New York Times described it: “One actress, Natasha Henstridge, who has appeared in films including the ‘Species’ series and ‘The Whole Nine Yards,’ said that Mr. Ratner had forced her to perform oral sex more than 20 years ago. Another, Olivia Munn, said Mr. Ratner had masturbated in front of her when, as an aspiring actress, she delivered food to his trailer.”

Ratner vehemently denies all charges, but one can imagine those allegations caught the attention of eagle-eyed Trump team members. They might have had misgivings about Ratner because he had never (a) been found liable in a civil court, like their boss, or (b) reached a secret settlement, like Pete Hegseth. Also, six is a rather paltry number of accusers for a man of 55 like Ratner; Trump could have tallied that many in the four months between Barron’s birth and his mushroom-foraging expedition with Stormy Daniels.

But maybe the Trump team was willing to overlook these glaring shortcomings because Ratner also had been dismissed as co-producer of the 2012 Oscars after he uttered a slur against gay men during a Q&A session for his latest film. That’s not quite as powerful as maligning transgender individuals who’ve never harmed you, never met you, and likely will never encounter you, but gay bashing is a tried-and-true bully flex for the ages.

Ratner, of course, apologized, as one does when one is a bigot caught on tape and one is not named Trump.

Lastly, a few words on Bezos – who may or may not have been aware of the Amazon contract for the new Melania pebblebuster movie and may or may not have been aware of editors at his Washington Post spiking an Ann Telnaes cartoon critical of Trump but most definitely (he swears, God’s honest truth) was not aware of The Post spiking an editorial endorsing Kamala Harris, although he thinks that was a swell idea.

Like Musk, Bezos has enough money ($238 billion) to last numerous lifetimes and fund multiple vanity space jaunts. But, for whatever reason, he still feels the need to win over Trump, who has the power to interfere with federal contracts for Bezos ventures and force him to pay taxes more aligned to his income, like the rest of us.

Along with ass-kissing undertaken at the great expense of The Post’s reputation and subscription count, Bezos has donated $1 million to Trump’s inauguration, which also has received millions from other tech moguls (the subject of the Telnaes toon).

As for the fate of journalism at The Post, Bezos and certainly Trump would respond, “I Really Don’t Care, Do U?” But I certainly do, and I hope all those who voted against Trump – the majority – care, too. We need every single good journalist we have right now, and The Post employs a lot of those.

The sooner Bezos sells The Post to a responsible owner, the better off we will all be.

Then Bezos can focus on his real passions. Apparently that’s delivering packages, producing hagiographies and racing Musk to Mars, or wherever the hell they’re rocketing their egos – the sooner, the better.