Hollywood Lies: Volume II

I guess I’m on a Hollywood kick this weekend. And before someone jumps in with, “Who cares, it’s just movies,” let me stop you right there. It’s not just movies. It’s culture. It’s messaging. It’s repetition, and repetition shapes belief.

Remember five short years ago, during the government pandemic lockdowns? What did most people do? Besides pretending to be outdoorsy for five minutes, they parked their asses in front of a TV and burned through everything Netflix had to offer. And then they came to work and talked about it like it mattered. People are getting lazier — not just physically, but mentally. They’d rather inhale a box of freezer-burned taquitos on the couch and call that “research” than actually go read, go look, go do.

That’s why these myths matter. Because idiots believe them. And those idiots vote. We are, quite frankly, one pandemic away from Idiocracy becoming a documentary.

So here we go again. Five more dangerously misleading myths that screenwriters love to shove down our throats — as seen through the eyes of Kate.

1.      Digging Out Bullets and Back-Alley Surgeries

One of Hollywood’s most ridiculous (and dangerous) myths is the idea that self-surgery is some kind of badge of honor. You’ve seen it a thousand times: the grizzled hero digs a bullet out of their own thigh with a pair of tweezers, grits their teeth, and stitches themselves up with fishing line. Maybe they splash some whiskey on it for good measure, bite down on a stick, and stumble off into the night, good as new.

It makes for great drama. It’s also absolute bullshit.

Let’s start with the bullet. Real bullets fragment — they’re designed to. They mushroom and splinter on impact to cause maximum tissue damage. You’re not pulling a neat, barely deformed slug out of your leg like a pebble from your shoe. And even if you did, the bullet isn’t the only problem. The path it carved probably shredded muscle, severed blood vessels, and maybe nicked an artery or two. That’s not something you fix with a pocketknife and a shot of bourbon. That’s something you fix in an operating room.

Trying to solve that level of trauma by “removing the bullet” and sewing the skin shut is like getting sideswiped in traffic, having your brake lines and wiring severed, and deciding the best fix is to pull the dent and slap on a coat of paint. It doesn’t make any fucking sense.

And let’s talk infection. In the real world, cutting into yourself — or having your buddy do it in a dirty basement — without sterile tools, clean hands, or a controlled environment is practically begging for sepsis. But somehow, in movie-land, sterilizing a blade with a lighter and splashing whiskey on the wound is good enough. Never mind the bacteria in the air, the grime falling from the ceiling, or the fact that nobody’s even washed their damn hands.

It’s not gritty. It’s not tough. It’s reckless. And selling it as heroism isn’t just unrealistic, it’s dangerous as hell.

2.      Cars Are Not Rolling Firebombs — and They Don’t Defy Physics

Hollywood treats vehicles like they’re made of cardboard and kerosene. You can ram them into concrete walls, blast through steel gates, or trade paint at 80 mph, and somehow, they keep driving like nothing happened. But tip one over on its side? Instant fireball.

It’s ridiculous. And it shows a total disregard for how cars actually work.

Modern vehicles are engineering marvels. Crumple zones, collapsible bumpers, seatbelts, airbags — all designed to absorb impact and keep you alive when shit goes sideways. But Hollywood wants spectacle, not science. So instead of showing bumpers doing their job, they give us freeway bumper cars and shootouts with nobody wearing a seatbelt.

And don’t even get me started on the explosion nonsense. Engineers didn’t forget that cars carry explosive liquid. Fuel tanks are heavily reinforced. They’re designed not to rupture or ignite from normal collisions. A rollover isn’t a guaranteed Michael Bay moment. If it were, every icy highway in January would look like a war zone.

Then there’s the windshield myth, a personal favorite. In the movies, one bullet hits a windshield and boom: half the glass shatters and the hero casually sweeps away the rest with their gun.

Reality check: automotive glass is laminated and layered. It behaves more like plastic than fragile glass. A bullet doesn’t blow it out, it punches a neat little hole. The rest spiderwebs and stays put, clinging stubbornly to the laminate. Punching through that mess with your hand or a gun barrel? Good luck. You’ll break bones before you break the glass.

I know because I’ve tried. As a kid, our family “junkyard” was an open-air parts department, and we shot those windshields. They didn’t explode like crystal goblets. They held — exactly like they’re meant to.

Hollywood wants drama. Real life wants you alive. And the gap between those two goals is the reason their cars explode like fireworks and yours don’t.

3.      Guns Aren’t Gymnastics Equipment — and Real Shooters Don’t Do Circus Tricks

Hollywood wants you to believe that firearms are just part of the choreography — props to twirl, juggle, and leap with while somehow hitting every target dead center. Heroes dive through windows firing with both hands. They somersault with loaded pistols, land in a perfect stance, and deliver flawless headshots at 50 feet. Cowboys shoot behind their backs without looking. Commandos spray bullets through walls without the slightest concern for what’s on the other side.

It’s cinematic. It’s dramatic. It’s also utter bullshit.

Rule number one for anyone who’s ever handled a firearm: control your muzzle. You don’t cartwheel, somersault, or spin around with a loaded weapon unless you’re trying to shoot yourself or someone else. People do shoot themselves or others when they do stupid shit with firearms (looking at you, Alec Baldwin).

And accuracy? Shooting a pistol well takes focus, breathing, and proper stance, not backflips. Shooting from the hip like some Old West badass? You’ll hit more air than enemy. Shooting behind you without looking? You’re not a marksman, you’re a menace. And firing through walls without knowing what’s beyond them? That’s not “tactical”. That’s how kids in the next apartment die.

Hollywood also loves to ignore recoil, trigger discipline, and muzzle climb. They show people unloading full magazines one-handed, upside down, mid–free fall, without once losing aim or reacquiring their target. It’s fantasy. Even experienced shooters train constantly to maintain control, and none of them look like a Cirque du Soleil act doing it.

These scenes teach people who don’t know better that this behavior is normal, even heroic. That guns are forgiving tools you can fling around without consequence. They’re not. They’re serious business. They demand care, caution, and respect.

So no, Keanu, you’re not clearing a room with dual Glock 19s while doing barrel rolls. And no, nameless cowboy, you’re not hitting a man 40 feet behind you with a blind hip shot. Real shooters don’t move like that. Because real shooters know the line between badass and negligent homicide is one careless move away.

4.      Hollywood Thinks Hackers Are Magic

In Hollywood, the hacker is always the same: hoodie up, lights off, glowing black terminal streaming code while dramatic music swells. They pound a few keys and — bam — they’re inside the Pentagon. Another keystroke? Bank vaults draining into offshore accounts. And of course, it only takes 14 seconds to bypass “military-grade encryption.”

It’s cinematic. It’s dramatic. It’s also pure fiction.

Real cybersecurity isn’t a keyboard duel. It’s a massive, multi-layered discipline involving encryption protocols, intrusion detection systems, behavioral analytics, access controls, and relentless human oversight. Breaking into a modern banking system or government network isn’t a 30-second montage, it’s often years of reconnaissance, social engineering, and exploiting tiny vulnerabilities. And even then, it’s usually done by teams with serious resources, not one moody teenager with a MacBook.

Hollywood would have you believe that software engineers and cybersecurity professionals are too dumb to think about security. That your bank’s ERP system is protected by a “Password123” login and vibes. In reality, entire industries exist to lock those systems down, from zero-trust architecture to encryption so strong a supercomputer would need centuries to crack.

And don’t get me started on the typing battles. You don’t “hack faster.” You exploit vulnerabilities, wait for mistakes, and play chess, not whack-a-mole.

This myth breeds ignorance. It convinces people breaches happen because some genius outsmarted the system, when most breaches happen because someone clicked the wrong email link. It makes people underestimate the stakes of securing critical systems. And it trivializes the decades of work that real engineers pour into keeping the digital world safe.

Hackers aren’t wizards. Computers aren’t magic. And if Hollywood spent half as much time learning how cybersecurity works as they do dramatizing it, maybe fewer people would believe your neighbor’s teenager can breach the NSA before the third act.

5.      “Military-Grade” Doesn’t Mean What You Think It Means

Hollywood loves the phrase “military-grade.” If something is “military-grade,” it must be tougher, deadlier, more powerful — forged in the fires of war. The implication is always the same: military-grade means elite.

Except it doesn’t. Not even close.

Here’s the reality: “mil-spec” (short for military specification) doesn’t mean “best”. It means “meets the minimum acceptable standard”. It’s not about superior performance; it’s about baseline functionality. And because government procurement is legally required to go with the lowest bidder who meets those minimums, “military-grade” often means “the cheapest thing that will still work”.

I’ve seen it firsthand, in the service and in government. “Mil-spec” isn’t a badge of excellence. It’s a floor. And anyone who’s served knows that military gear breaks. A lot. It’s built to be mass-produced, easily maintained, and cheaply replaced, not to be indestructible.

Take the AR-15 world. People hear “mil-spec” and think it means a rifle built for unstoppable power. In reality, it means it’s built with the shittiest components that will still function reliably enough for military use. Civilian-market parts are often far superior — made with better materials, tighter tolerances, and more advanced engineering.

So why does Hollywood keep selling “military-grade” as a superlative? Because it sounds badass. It sells the fantasy of unstoppable weapons and impenetrable armor. It taps into cultural reverence for the military without acknowledging the boring truth: most “military-grade” gear is a compromise between cost, logistics, and adequacy — not excellence.

And that myth shapes how people think about policy, weapons, and even freedom. It fuels fear. It convinces people that anything “military-grade” is too powerful for civilians — when often, it isn’t. And it reinforces the idea that the government’s stamp of approval is a mark of superiority, when in reality, it’s just bureaucracy.

“Military-grade” isn’t elite. It’s not magical. It’s not unstoppable. It’s a minimum standard. And it’s about time Hollywood stopped selling it as anything else.