Big Ideas

While the politicos continue to flounder about, with Bush et al sticking to their guns (figuratively and literally), and the Dems flailing for a catchy slogan or issue, the eyes and ears of a fatigued Republic turn away from Washington and toward the banner of Popular Entertainment. One wishes the populace would be as enthused about electing a representative and responsible government as it is in selecting a semi-annual American Idol. (FYI, my current choice there is the beautiful Katharine McPhee).

The TV season, though straddling the period between the February and May sweeps, is getting relatively exciting, with the introduction of a few blockbuster series and the endgame of some old stalwarts (NBC's "West Wing" and "Will & Grace"--maybe they should do a crossover). Whether Alan Alda or Jimmy Smits wins the hotly contested fictional presidency--the one that will continue into oblivion--there's more interest in how the writers will handle the death of John Spencer's character (though we know he will die on "Election Day," for fullest dramatic effect). And whether Grace Adler decides to marry former hubby and father-of-her-child Harry Connick is hardly earthshaking, but my guess is yes. It doesn't matter--those sterotypical characters will never change, and are destined for a decade of mugging in syndication.

"24" is heading into its final nine hours, perhaps to a permanent conclusion. Now that Michelle, Palmer, Tony and Edgar have been erased, and a plot twist now implicates goody-goody Audrey Raines in the terrorist web, there are no more Old Friends to care for. Jack may as well pack it in. Okay, maybe Chloe can spin off her show, and take along her suddenly absent boy friend, if he survived the nerve gas attack. I'm kind of reminded of Dorothy's quip in Munchkinland, "People come and go so strangely here."

But as these programs fade, up come some doozies to replace them. One of them is a spin-off of sorts from "American Idol," called "American Inventor," and it's produced by Simon Cowell. The format is nearly a clone of the original, with the exception that there are four judges instead of three. In these early stages of the elimination competition, would-be Edisons converge to pitch their indiosyncratic ideas. The "American Inventors" editors then include the most outrageously idiotic hopefuls, just as they did the self-deluding warblers of "Idol." See one guy try to sell a roach racetrack and then excoriate the judges for being negative! Show a suffocating bubble in which to place children when they require a "time out." And there are several (literally) excretory ideas, including what can best be called a Shit Suit for emergencies. Amidst all this eye-popping schadenfreude there are some creative hopefuls worth cheering for, though the best idea yet (a modular portable workout set) is hardly a Segway. Oddly, though, the show works. I'm not sure how the later episodes will succeed. After the candidates have been whittled to a dozen, they will not be singing C&W or Stevie Wonder the final ten weeks. How that elimination period will be executed will tell us whether there is any inventiveness among the producers to match what they are seeking in their contestants.

HBO has its new "groundbreaking" series for this season, "Big Love," to follow-up "The Sopranos" on the schedule and replace "Six Feet Under" for its Odd Family showcase. "The Sopranos," with the Tony-in-a-coma cliffhanger, will be a valuable lead-in, but so far "Big Love," about well-meaning polygamists in Utah, hasn't generated a lot of character interest for me. Two episodes is hardly enough to go on, but I'm looking for more trenchant conflicts than which wife gets to cheat on which other wife on that wife's scheduled Day to Fuck Bill. It does help that I'm watching the show in HD, because it showcases the spectacularly blue and beautiful panorama of Utah (even if it's probably shot in the Canadian Rockies). HD does have its disadvantages, though, becasuse it also enables you to count the pimples on Bill Paxton's naked ass, an ass that gets quite a lot of play as he skips from wife to wife, downing Viagra as he goes. Paxton is a problem himself. His character is central but not (yet at least) a powerful focus. Paxton has always been a competent but bland film presence. Do you recall how moving was his change of heart as the modern mouthpiece in "Titanic"? Neither do I. The "supporting" cast is apt to dwarf him in charisma, with Harry Dean Stanton as his corrupt father-in-law, great character actress Grace Zabriskie as his weird mother, Bruce Dern out of mothballs as his father, and Chloe Sevigny as his most scheming wife.

Upcoming episodes may intensify the conflicts and diverge into interesting story lines, but I don't find this subculture very fascinating, nor many of the characters compelling enough to engage my sympathies. If it were not for my DVR I would probably not follow up on future episodes; this is not the appointment TV exemplified by "Sopranos" or "Six Feet" or "Rome."

Shakespeare on Bush

News Item: President Bush said in a news conference yesterday that he did not believe Iraq had descended into a civil war. He said he remained confident, three years after the U.S.-led invasion, that his strategy will succeed.

William Shakespeare:

Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow
Creep in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time.
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death.
Out, out, brief candle!
Life is but a walking shadow
A poor player who struts and frets
His hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more.
It is a tale told by an idiot,
Full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.

Beware Again

The National League will probably have a different champion again this year, and the only team I see likely to return to the post-season is the Cardinals. That will be on the strength of their pitching--thanks to coach Dave Duncan--and whatever muscle Pujols, Rolen and Edmonds bring to the batting order. The latter two, however are on the downside of their careers. My fun choice for long-odds pennant money goes to Milwaukee (if I can get to Vegas in time). They have three solid starters in Sheets, Capuano and Davis, and a young core of hitters led by Clark, Richie Weeks and Prince Fielder (who will hit 40 HRs soon enough, if not now). The Astros will not likely be as lucky as last year without a full season from Clemens, who's currently a free agent. Will Pettite stay healthy all year to complement Oswalt and Bakke? Doubtful. Same with Biggio and Bagwell. The Cubs had their pre-Steve Bartman shot and now all their star hurlers and crumbling like bleu cheese. As for Pittsburgh, it's Jason Bay and go away.

San Diego's pitching may carry them through to another Divisional title, but their team is really no better than the Dodgers, who can make a run if their offense is more fortunate with its health than last year. Adding Furcal at the top of the line-up may help produce enough runs to make the difference, and Gagne could return to full strength. I project them a slight upset favorite over the underrated Giants, who have some good young pitching in Matt Cain and Noah Lowry, who will be more famous in September. One hopes Barry Bonds contributes enough to keep them competitive without threatening Aaron's lifetime homer record, because that will be a very ugly business. The Rockies will be where they always are (either Denver or on the road), but sans Larry Walker won't be a major factor.

Ergo my NL post-season picks are the Cardinals, Dodgers, Mets and wild-card Braves (who will win their divisional opponents in front of 25,000 yawning fans in Atlanta).

The American League East is stronger this year than last, though Baltimore seems to be taking steps backward, packing their line-up with old-timers and the dreadful Corey Patterson, whose ineffectiveness doomed the Cubs last year. They will be passed by the Devil Rays, who keep on producing talented youngsters but who can't amass enough wins when a quarter of their games are against the Yanks and Red Sox. The Blue Jays could improve dramatically if they get full seasons out of Roy Halladay, Gustavo Chacin and the moody A.J. Burnett, whose snit in last season's final week cost my Rotisserie Team the championship. Boston's chances hedge on a the arms of Schilling, Josh Beckett and Keith Foulke. Coco Crisp should be an capable replacement for Johnny Damon, and the Ortiz/Ramirez combo should be as powerful as ever. As for my Yankees, their starting pitching, despite the ages of Ugly Tall Lefty and Mike Mussina, seems more solid than it did last season, as does their middle relief. The offense is also more potent than last Spring, when they stumbled out of the gate. A stronger Giambi, Robinson Cano and Johnny Damon help solidify a lineup team that began last season with Tino Martinez, Tony Womack and a struggling Bernie Williams. Williams is back in Ruben Sierra's old role, which he can fulfill and serve as a link to the glory days of the '90s. There's no good reason at this juncture to assume they cannot take the division, but because of the talented teams infighting, the Wild Card won't come from here.

The AL Central may be the most improved division, though that advancement really happened last year. The White Sox were extremely lucky in 2005 health-wise and will need all their pistons going to hold off the Indians. Adding Jim Thome to replace Frank Thomas can't hurt, though. Cleveland choked away the Wild Card last September and will have to do something about their relief if they want to stay competitive, despite a brilliantly constructed line-up tht includes Victor Martinez, Grady Sizemore and Travis Hafner. The Twins have excellent starting pitching and secret weapons in Nelson Liriano and Scott Baker, but need some power form the likes of Joe Mauer and Justin Mourneau. Both the Tigers, also bragging improved pitching, and the Royals, will be better teams than last year, but somebody has to lose. The top three teams could finish in any combination. To be daring, I'll pick Minnesota to win and the Sox to edge in as the Wild Carders.

Finally, the Angels and As are likely to battle out in the West. It will be a match-up of fine young staffs (well, Oakland's is young). The Angels may have too many question marks in their line-up, as Garrett Anderson, Darrin Erstad and Tim Salmon continue to deteriorate. Chone Figgins' scurrying may not do enough for them. The As have Blanton, Zito, Harden and Haren, and a line-up that has bulked up on power, with Nick Swisher, Milton Bradley, Dan Johnson and Frank Thomas. That should be enough. The Rangers are the Phillies of the southwest, with some strong bats but a mound staff that, though improved in spots, lacks their heart-and-soul Kenny Rogers. Adding Brad Wilkerson was a plus, though, as was subtracting Alfonso Soriano--but they gave up too early on Chris Young. Seattle, with its new Japanese catcher Kenji Johjima, will hope he can communicate with their pitchers (especially the endlessly promising Gil Meche and the endless Jamie Moyer). Adrian Beltre will have to provide considerably more pop, as will Raul Ibanez and Carl Everett, if they are to climb out of the division cellar.

So my cards are on the table. The AL final four will be the Yankees, A's, Twins and White Sox.

Beware

Okay, pretty irrelevant Ides of March reference; there's enough to be wary of, anyway--who needs to be reminded? But in a lighter vein, as reader Terry reminded me, there is baseball out there, lurking as the Next Big Act after the NCAA's March Madness wears down. The NCAAs are fun, I suppose, even though the team that I always root for, perennial Ivy Champ Penn, almost always succumbs in the first round. They are likely to do that again this year, facing Regional second seed Texas on Friday night.

The World Baseball Classic has rolled into its second round, trying to winnow down to its final four, one of which seems not likely to be the USA. "Our" team, the one with Jeter, Clemens, Derrek Lee, Griffey, Arod, Chipper, Texeira and Young, is about to be eliminated unless, under the byzantine rules, Korea beats Japan or scores more than eight runs losing to them. In fact, the Yanks (as opposed to the Yankees) would have been toast already but for an outrageously bad call in the game against Japan, where a Nipponese baserunner was called out for leaving too early on a sacrifice fly. Horseshit, the replay suggested. This awful ruling was perhaps not as bad as Don Denkinger's in 1985 or the replay overturn of the interception in this year's Pittsburgh-Indianapolis playoff game, but it was very suspect. On the upside, if the USA gets bounced, all those Yankees will return to Tampa. For Steinbrenner, though, his worst fears have been realized, as Johnny Damon has already injured his shoulder, which was not his greatest asset in the first place.

This time of year is important, MLB and Fantasy-wise, for the evaluation of talent. This has become impossible with the allocation of so many veterans to their temporary WBC assignments. Meanwhile talented young players like Ryan Howard and Edwin Encarnarcion are burning up the Florida camps with massive offensive outbursts which could be misleading because they are pounding mostly minor league level hurlers, or major leaguers still experimenting with new pitches. However, I do believe the aforementined sluggers can be responsible for 60-70 dingers between them this season, health-willing.

I am currently in the midst of poring over lists and websites, trying to ascertain the best position players and the players mot likely to exceed their purchase value in the upcoming Rotisserie auction. Part of the process involves relearning team rosters, and while not pertinent to Fantasy concerns, trying to ascertain which MLB teams are going to improve this year. All off-season moves are geared to improvement, of course, and almost all the rosters seem stronger, with the possible exceptions of Boston, Baltimore, the Cubs, St. Louis, and San Diego. Since three of those teams were playoff participants in 2005, this bodes for some change in October. Teams whose chances seem stronger to see post-season play include the Mets, the Phillies, Milwaukee (though they need a solid fourth starter), Texas and Oakland. The A's pitching staff could be fabulous again, with Barry Zito the least promising of a strong bunch including Harden, Haren and Blanton.

I love the Mets' offense, though it needs help from Kaz Matsui, one of the few really disappointing Japanese exports. With Reyes and Matsui setting the table for Floyd, Beldtran, Delgado, Wright and LoDuca, and a tandem of young sluggers Nady and Diaz hanging out, all they need are some useful seasons from veterans Pedro Martinez, Tom Glavine, and especially Billy Wagner, to win 95 games. Likewise, the Phillies, sporting Rollins, Abreu, Utley, Howard and Burrell, are going to score a lot of runs, though their veteran staff does not inspire great confidence. The Braves have some good youngsters, but without pitching coach Leo Mazzone, their pitching may not pull out a fifteenth Division Championship in a row. The Marlins are rebooting with all those youngsters they traded for, whch means they'll probably win the World Series in 2008--but not this year. Poor Joe Girardi. The Nationals are a melange of players who have seen better days, like gimps Jose Guillen and Nicky Johnson, Jose Vidro and the recalicitrant Alfonso Soriano, and won't make the noise this season that they did last.

I guess I'm in Preview mode now, so I'll continue my early evaluations in the next blog.

The Lame Game

I've been panting to write a new baseball blog but it's simply too early to tell what teams are stronger this season since the Grapefruit and Cactus League activity has been overshadowed by the silly spectacle called the World Baseball Classic, which has coopeted many major players to don uniforms of their native lands and compete in a few bogus games for not even a trophy. This may or may not be a necessary step toward the "globalization" of the sport, since it is a countermeasure to the Olympic discontinuation of baseball as a team sport after 2008. That decision, from a group of underachieving overstuffed European sportsmen who deem ballroom dancing, synchronized swimming and team half-pipe worthy of Olympic medals, is the purest example of organized anti-Americanism that exists.

On the other hand, globalization is a continually evolving process at least in the Major Leagues of American and Japan, where international line-ups have become as common as those in the NHL. And do we really need a tiny exhibition tournament to determine a bogus World Champion, since there are so few games that go into determining the winner? Even the College World Series is much more inclusive. After losing one game to Canada due to some very bad pitching by Dontrelle Willis and the nearly retired Al Leiter, the Americans were nearly eliminated from the tournament, which would have been an egregious embrassment, not to mention a drag on attendance at the finals in San Diego. Once America starts losing, we don't want to know. Who goes to the America's Cup yacht races anymore? Well the whole concept, even if no one gets significantly injured, is lame.

But speaking of lame and embarrassing, I couldn't help noting all the headlines in today's first section of the Times. A sampling: "Bush Says Iraq Is in a 'Period of Tension'";"American Hostage Found Dead in Iraq"; "Iraqi President, Premier Bicker Over Powers"; "Libby Entitled to Summaries of Briefings, Judge Rules"; "Bush Bemoans Ports Deal"; "Army Corps Report Details 17th Street Levee's Failure"; and "Cabinet Official Norton Resigns." Well sure, wouldn't you? The mad cavalcade of Administration failures just marches on and on so that one blends indistinguishably into the next. As Gertrude said, "One woe doth tread upon another's heels."

What's most ironic is that for all his missteps, the trap that finally caught Bush is the issue that is most justifiable, the ports deal that involved the corporate aegis of the U.A.E., one of our Arab "allies" (although they also helped sponsor Al Qaeda). Bush was hoisted by his own petard on this one. It was his simpleminded lumping of all mideast Muslims as complicit in terrorist attacks by singling out Saddam and the Iraqis that helped him win his election; now that same Republican-sponsored xenophobia renders all Arabs mistrustful to all Americans. The Democrats could easily leap upon the issue, even if misguidedly. That the Republicans did as well simply underscores the fact that this is an election year and they are mostly scarred now by their fidelity to Bush's lame duck administration. Bush's overall popularity hovers around the 38% mark, lower than anyone except Nixon during Watergate. And it's hard to see how he will pull himself out of the ditch with the Iraqi situation deteriorating and the Iranians waving their swords.

So the opportunity is ripe for the Democrats, even if they will be inheriting a disastrous situation. But those ditzes, with all this ammunition, are still unable to come up with even the most basic theme upon which to rally their troops. To my total despair I read that their p.r. machine has been working tirelessly at a "Contract with America" slogan and this is what they have come up with: "We Can Do Better." Yes, that's right, "We can do better." Inspirational, no? Makes you want to sing, no? Sarcasm aside, it does at least have the advantage of being its own critique. Apparently this is the best idea they could come up with after hundres of meetings and focus groups. Astoundingly, this slogan is even worse than the nonsensical one that stumbled off the podium at the 2004 Democratic Convention, "Hope Is on the Way."

My theory is that all the Democratic writers are actually Republican moles; this is the only explanation for suchfecklessness. Even a fourth-grade boy scout could come up with a catchier slogan for the Jamboree. "We Can Do Better" is so awful not just because it's so bland, but it's so lacklustre that it bespeaks a deficiency in spirit and imagination. Don't any of the Dems remember how uninspiring were their claims of "Competence" for Dukakis in 1988? How hard is it to come up with a more compelling message? Here are some off the top of my head: "Lets Go Forward Again!"... "Peace and Prosperity!"... "Had Enough?" or the more pointed "We've Had Enough!" They could do worse than this--and have--and might even consider adopting one of the great rabble rousing movie cries, if Paddy Chayevsky's estate permits: "I'm mad as hell and I'm not gonna take it any more!"

Transitions

I usually ignore the pre-Oscar hype as studiously as I do the same inane bloviating that precedes the Super Bowl, but this year I thought to turn on the TV a bit earlier to check out the Red Carpet event in its full HD glory. The crispness of the Sony WEGA picture could not, however, compensate for the obtuseness of the interviewer, whose first question to George Clooney was, "Did you ever think when you were on 'The Facts of Life' that one day you would have a moment like this?" Clooney, a good sport heading for a very satisfying evening, fielded the question gallantly, but I don't recall the answer precisely because I abruptly turned off the set.

Later on, when Paul Haggis won both the Best Original Screenplay award, and a surprise Best Picture Oscar for "Crash," there wasn't much mention of his days writing for "The Facts of Life." Here's a guy who has penned the last two Oscar-winning films, a pretty amazing achievement for someone whose brain might have been severely compromised for having written dialogue for Tootie and Mrs. Garrett. I'm also reminded of another former "Facts of Life" writing alum, Andy Borowitz, now a major American humorist who wins Internet awards and gets published monthly in The New Yorker. I knew Andy in Los Angeles, and he would refer to the writers of "The Facts of Life" as idiots, himself excluded. I don't know if that included Haggis. While it seems an anomaly, or a cultural nonsequitur, that this particular show should have bred so much future Industry success, it does suggest that the derision foisted on the genre by film critics like Roeper and Ebert may not be justified. As famous screenwriting teacher Robert McKee suggested in his seminar (to my great edification), "You think sitcom writing is easy? Go try it."

I won't be the first among the 70 million-or-so bloggist worldwide trying to understand why "Crash" defeated "Brokeback Mountain" for the top award, though I predicted it might (as did a lot of local critics). I guess it had something of a hometown advantage, being set in L.A. and casting so many local actors (though that did not help an equally deserving nominee of recent years, "L.A. Confidential.") There was the usual Harvey Weinstein overselling and the aggressive distribution of so many DVDs, as well as a strategic rerelease of "Crash" in December and January. There was probably enough residual homophobia among some elderly Oscar voters who were uncomfortable with "Brokeback's" themes, plus a split of politically left voters between the two great advocacy films, "Brokeback" and "Good Night and Good Luck," as well as a perverse inclination of some to go against the favorite. An AOL poll on Monday found 37% of readers supporting "Brokeback" and 35% behind "Crash," suggesting a statistically even race. Well, they are both very good films, both deserving and both better than last year's champ "Million Dollar Baby." "Brokeback's" breakthrough may have a deeper cultural inpact and it will likely appear some day on that syndicated show "Movies That Shook the World," while "Crash" just reflects the world.

Enough said, and it's time to transit away from the film industry to my favorite subject, baseball. Season projections will be forthcoming, but mention should be made of another sadder transition, the death of Minnesota Twins immortal (well not that immortal), Kirby Puckett. He succumbed to a stroke yesterday at age 45. He was a popular player both in and out of Minneapolis, hit a famous clutch homer to help the Twins survive and eventually win the great 1991 World Series, and earned his Hall of Fame status. It's easy to picture his stumpy figure hovering at the plate and skittering down to first base. But the charm of his career was undercut by his less graceful post-retirement, which featured run-ins with the law and spousal abuse. Eventually his fireplug figure broadened into more of a bowling ball as he gained 100 pounds, giving him over 310 pounds to carry on his 5-8 frame. This self-abuse parading as self-indulgence resulted in his tragic early departure, but one that was not very surprising.

Oddly, I felt equally as bad over a fictional demise, at least as unexpected, involving another endearing roly-poly character. On last night's two-hour episode of "24" a climactic nerve-gas attack on the home base of CTU cost the lives of 40% of the personnel, including brilliant computer maven Edgar, played by Louis Lombardi. It was truly harrowing watching him succumb at the end of the program as his companions gazed on from their hermetically sealed room; his last words were mouthing "Chloe" to his unrequited love, who responded with a silent "Edgar" in a horrific farewell. This was perhaps the most emotionally wrenching moment of the entire series, save perhaps for Jack's mourning his murdered wife at the end of Season One. Though I predicted President Palmer's death in the season opener, this caught me offguard. (Yet to be fair to myself, I did foresee in an earlier blog an eventual demise for both Edgar and Chloe). And while the program is showing evidence of thinning creativity--the attack on CTU replicating a similar one in Season Two--it also demonstrates how effective an action show can be if it remembers to define and humanize its characters.

Love and Hate and Fear and Death

One of my legion of unknown readers named Terry--Hi, Terry!--postscripted my recent jeremiad with a soothing reminder that soon the baseball season will be upon us. Actually he (she?) makes a good point; the pastoral reliability of baseball is a tonic to the woes of the age. I'm sure I will soon have postings deriding the World Baseball Classic as well as the prospects of the Bronx Cheers, Barry Bonds, the Milwaukee Brewers and other springtime hopefuls. But for the present there's that major local competition drawing the world's attention, the annual rite at the Kodak Theater, three blocks down Hollywood Boulevard from me. Once again the Oscars have clogged the highways and by-lines, and revved up the sale of guacamole, salsa and tostitoes as it did a month ago for Super Bowl Extra Large.

Pundits have predicted a lower Nielsen share for this Sunday's event, gauging that the Red Staters will have little interest in the generally liberal arty and political films that dominate the nominations. Well that may be, although ABC has the advantage that at least the Oscars will not be going up against new episodes of "Desperate Housewives" and "Grey's Anatomy," two mediocre entertainments that sunk NBC's Olympics ratings. And frankly, what movies would actually hype the interest of Red Staters? Would they have surged to the cause of "Walk the Line," the affable but uninspired biopic of two CW stars? I'm not sure what else could at all be characterized as a "Red State" movie. Even a powerhouse epic like "Revenge of the Sith" has liberal underpinnings, or at least an anti-imperialistic message. And "King Kong" reminds us to be kind to animals, or at least mammals.

Red Staters, most of whom have not seen any of the top-five nominated films, ought to pay more attention, because just as they have been motivated in their political choices by the powers of emotion, so are the designated movies largely investigations of the interplay of the most primal emotions we have.

"Brokeback Mountain," still the favorite, conveys the power of epic tragedy in its portrayal of how hate overwhelms love. Its only flaw, to my mind, is its lackadaisacal pace, an uncommercial approach bravely taken by Ang Lee, who figured that those most antagonized by a stately romantic story would be the same male heteros grossed out by the subject matter (though at least for the most heinously homophobic, the film has a happy righteous ending). Ang Lee is even more certain to garner his Oscar, though I think much of the credit for the film's success lies in the difficult, brilliant screenplay by Larry McMurtry and Diana Ossana. Their task was to write dialogue for characters who were inarticulate to begin with and who were experiencing unmentionable feelings. Even the respective wives had to keep their secrets within themselves, for they couldn't reveal their angst to any confidants. The blending of seething longing with domestic discord produced a very powerful dramatic paradigm which Lee and his actors portrayed flawlessly. Good for them.

"Crash" is the only film with a chance to outpoll "Brokeback," and it wouldn't bother me if it did, because its searing emotional power really left me moved and thoughtful. It is very popular in Los Angeles, an artistic mea culpa for the Limousine Liberal set. It is also about hate, though mostly self-hate, and how that is rechanneled as racism. "Fear and Loathing in Los Angeles" might have been a better name for the movie. Its heavy reliance on coincidence and serendipity is both a strength and a weakness, especially for those who despise contrivance in a screenplay. I could also have done without some of the greater grandstanding scenes, such as the near shooting of a sweet Latina nina. But in the end writer/director Paul Haggis successfully proffers his main point, that we all have good and evil in us, and no one is pure, but everyone has recognizable needs. Take that, Bushie, with your simplistic world view of black and white. Be offended, very offended.

"Good Night and Good Luck" is too documentarian to ultimately win, and it wears its heart on its sleeve. Its emotional focus is on Fear, especially fear propelled by government fiat. It's as least as political as the attack on world oil cartels, "Syriana," and has the advantage of being coherent. This is perhaps its undoing award-wise, because the message of media compliance with corrupt political principles overwhelms the personal stories of its protagonists. Yes, one man kills himself over Red-baiting, and another couple is intimidated, but Edward R. Murrow seems somewhat above the fray. Neither McCarthyism or poor ratings do him in (the culprits in his demise are the cigarettes he chain-smokes, subjects of other past docudramas). Still, this is a worth film, beautifully shot, and an educational must for our clueless Gen Xers and Yers.

Steven Spielberg's "Munich" also deals with the major themes of hatred, fear and death, with very little love thrown in. It is a daring attempt to come to grips with the hopelessness of internecine fighting over religious differences (which are actually more territorial squabbles) whose universal ramifications have become so much greater than the actual Israeli-Palestinian conflict. In order to justify a manhunt of serialized assassinations, Spielberg and writer Tony Kushner had to do something to humanize the protagonists or else it would have been simply a Charles Bronson revenge movie. But rendering the Israeli hit squad as conscience-stricken not only antagonized partisans who see the revenge mission as entirely justified (even with its conceivably mistaken targets), as well as historians who believe that the hit squad was not conscious-stricken at all. This was a nice try for Spielberg, but in his ambiguous moralizing he merely leaves the viewer uncomfortable and depressed. No whistling the John Williams theme song as you exit this film. It will probably not win any awards.

Not so for "Capote," which has the shooest Oscar of all in Phillip Seymour Hoffman's impersonation of the author. He was aided by a thoughtful and articulate screenplay by Dan Futterman (boy, there were some terrific screenplays this year). Death is certainly a big player here, as is a sort of a squelched impulse to love (expressed by Capote for both his companion Harper Lee and his subject Perry Smith). In this case it is not hate, love, or fear, but Ambition that motivates our protagonist, in a seamy yet fascinating journey that is at least bookended by Deaths, first of the hapless Klutter and then of the woebegone murderers. Yet the ambiguous message of this film will be forgotten long before the stature of Hoffman's performance. But I do wish he would drop his middle name, already. It keeps on reminding me of that song from "Little Shop of Horrors," "Suddenly Seymour."

Still Looking

By now the brouhaha over Vice President Cheney's rifle malfunction has subsided, owing somewhat to the accelerated strife in Iraq and the poor vetting by the Administration of the Dubai company hired to oversee our ports. Neither of the aforementioned events is comic in any way, unless one gets titters from the declining poll numbers of the Chief Executive and Dubya. (Cheney has an approval rate of 18%, which is astounding; I'd guess it compares favorably only to that of Mohammad Atta and Tim McVeigh.)

The cleanest, cleverest joke about Cheney is that his biography is titled "Eats, Shoots and Leaves"; I also enjoyed the superimposition of he and lawyer friend Whittington onto the iconic two-shot poster from "Brokeback Mountain." Cheney, likely not to have seen the movie (unless daughter Mary forced him to), would not respond well to that cartoon. Well, at least he was not pictured with a turban and a bomb inside. Can you imagine how the Muslims would react to a cartoon of, say, Muhammad and Bin Laden in that "Brokeback" longing shot? The entire culture might spontaneously combust. And speaking of Bin Laden, another yuk-yuk is Dubya's insistence that he will be caught.

As you can tell, I am a partisan of dry, deadpan humor, which brings me to writer-director Albert Brooks. Recently I was one of the few persons to attend a Writers Guild screening of his recent movie, "Looking for Comedy in the Muslim World," which did not receive good reviews or any public acceptance. I think in time it will be far more appreciated, if only for its humanity and spooky prescience. Although it was not as inspired as his two best films, "Defending Your Life" and "Mother," it did contain some worthy comic moments, usually geared toward showbiz. I was rather tickled when a group of executives from Al Jazeera offered Brooks a six-show pay-or-play deal to star in their new sitcom, "That Darn Jew." And he certainly took advantage of the Indian setting to scourge the ubiquitous practice of corporate outsourcing to India of customer-service complaints from American institutions from McDonalds to the White House. Other bits, such as the DOD demand that his report on "Comedy in the Muslim World" be 500 pages despite his ability to fill only two pages, ran dry very early, as did his plot contrivances.

But something in Brooks' world view as expressed here and in earlier efforts rings so true. He is very attentive to the polite veneers that representatives of our institutions wear to hide either their hostility or their cluelessness. Fred Dalton Thomson, playing an askew version of himself (like Brooks), sends the befuddled comedian on a journey to India and Pakistan because our nation needs to better understand the Muslim mind set. (I gather it might have been more efficient to send him to the Middle East, but filming there would have been more dangerous than Brooks or his insurance company could have accepted). That the government thinks that studying a culture through its sense of humor is worth a commission seems certainly ludicrous on many levels, including the fact that a sense of humor is idiosyncratic to every person. And the hopelessness of such a study is what gives Brooks' quest such a sense of comic futility.

Still, Brooks is saying something wonderfully profound underneath it all. As disparate as our hopes, dreams and faiths are, everyone has a sense of humor (with the possible exception of Tom Cruise); it is one of the few traits that human beings share that actually enhances our lives, and one of the few characteristics that make us superior to lower mammals. We are all confronted with Cosmic irony and indifference and it might help us all to find a common reason to laugh at our communal fate.

There was one moment in the movie when everyone gasped uncomfortably, and that's when Brooks comments offhandedly about different nationalities having different senses of humor; some of which are opaque--like the Danish. "What do the Danish do for jokes?" he wonders on-screen. There's no way that Brooks wrote that innocuous comment with any notion that a Danish editorial cartoon would be the talk of the world and that a clumsy attempt at Occidental humor might instigate riots and deaths among frenzied Muslims. For pure bizarre timeliness this reminds me of the explosion at Three Mile Island a week after "The China Syndrome" opened in 1979. And in fact, Brooks plotting eventually has India and Pakistan going to battle over a misunderstanding of what he is doing in their midst.

Next up for Brooks? If there's no fatwa against him, maybe a quail-hunting mockumentary; hopefully not a treatment on Armageddon. Remember, he not only predicted literal laugh riots in the Middle East, but the onset of the TV reality phenomenon with his first movie, "Real Life." Nostradamus, you have competition.