Michael Clayton - Review

Director: Tony Gilroy
Writer: Tony Gilroy
Starring: George Clooney/Tom Wilkinson
Runtime: 2 hours

Michael Clayton is well titled. It is not so much a legal thriller, as it is a study of the lead character. Screenwriting guru Robert McKee would bawl me out for that last statement, because according to McKee, all films should be character studies.

McKee has a point, but Michael Clayton is a film that shuns convention. I was waiting for it to become a thriller of the John Grisham variety, and it never did. You know the type: lawyer stumbles upon wrongdoing in his own firm, realizes he's a moral person, sets out to find justice, and almost gets killed for his trouble.

Michael Clayton has those bits, but it's missing the tempo of a regular legal thriller. That doesn't mean it's a poor film. On the contrary, it was nice not to have a chase scene wrap the whole thing up. The editor (director Gilroy's younger brother) wasn't allowed to cut the scenes down to thirty seconds, then twenty, then ten, then two, all in the slight-of-hand of modern filmmaking.

The title is apt because we stay with Michael Clayton throughout the film, and he seems like a real man doing real things. He's only missing from perhaps three minutes of screentime. The rest of the film is the study of a man that may or may not like himself, or his job, or his life. In the end, we never really know the answers to these questions, because neither does Michael Clayton. And I love that.

George Clooney is utterly perfect in the lead role. He doesn't overdo it, and neither do the filmmakers. His haircut is just a haircut, his suits are just suits. He drives a fancy car, but he doesn't own it. He makes a lot of money as a Mr. Fix It of a law firm, but he's in dire straits because of a bar business that's gone belly up. Though he seems powerful, his office is down the hall and he is not in "the club." He is not a partner. He's the permanent outsider, the loyal dog that earns his room and board by keeping the masters clean.

Clayton is the attorney that the firm sends to mop up a mess. Rich guy needs help in a drunk driving wreck, but wants to dodge the publicity? Call Clayton. Senator with his hand in the cookie jar? Call Clayton. At one point in the film, a character calls Michael Clayton a "janitor." Rather than laughing it off or taking offence, Clayton internalizes it. He knows it is the truth. Later, when a man says that he's heard Clayton is a miracle worker, Clayton replies, "I'm a janitor," without a hint of irony. Does he like being a janitor? Perhaps not, but that's life.

The plot of the film feels incidental to the man. In the film, Clayton has to bail out one of the firm's partners, Arthur Edens (Tom Wilkinson). Edens has gone off the deep end and is acting like a lunatic. Seeing as he's the lead attorney in charge of a massive lawsuit, the firm needs him under control. They send Clayton to straighten the man out. Behind the scenes, however, another of the firm's partners (Tilda Swinton) decides to take matters into her own hands, with deadly results.

That's a fair plot. It's been used before and it will be used again, but I didn't mind. Watching Clayton believably pick through his spiralling life was good enough for me.

It was fairly obvious that this was directed by a writer, in this case Tony Gilroy. Clayton is his directorial debut. This might surprise you, since Gilroy's list of writing projects in the past includes Armageddon, Proof of Life, and all three of the Bourne movies.

Gilroy with Clooney
What a change of pace. Gilroy is a fantastic action writer, so perhaps he didn't trust anyone to do one of his dramas, lest they think, "Ah, a Gilroy script. The Bourne guy, right?" Handing Michael Clayton to someone else probably would have resulted in a net total of five car chases, ten shootings, and a bad guy that tells Clayton, "You're such a boyscout." This is important to remember if you're a fan of Tony Gilroy the writer and think you're going to get the Bourne treatment. You're not, so don't complain if you see this movie and wonder where all the action went.

Instead, Clayton has very believable characters doing the most believable thing: being selfish. No one in the film is outright evil for evil's sake. Swinton's character is worried about making it big in the legal world. She does what she feels she must. She's not proud of it. In fact, she's terrified of the consequences. But she does it anyway. Watch her scenes where she examines her wardrobe in the mirror, rehearsing her lines for the next day's presentations. In front of the mirror, she's a nervous wreck, desperately fighting to achieve flawless diction. The next day, she's on the ball. Or is she? They're excellent scenes.

Sidney Pollack takes another turn as actor in this film. I wonder how Gilroy felt, having the Oscar winning director on the set during his own directorial debut? There's probably some good stories there. In any case, Pollack does a fine job, and as always I found myself wondering why he doesn't do more acting.

Tom Wilkinson is good as Arthur Edens, the lawyer that goes off the rails. He's a little bit over the top, but then again his character is a manic-depressive, so it's hard to argue the point.

Michael Clayton is a very satisfying film made a by a good writer-turned-director, and it stars an excellent cast. See it.

Photos: Yahoo Movies

Steinbrenner Hangs Them Up

Steinbrenner (Newsday)
This is the beginning of the end for a baseball era.

George Steinbrenner is reportedly turning over control of the New York Yankees to his two sons, Hal and Hank Steinbrenner.

Well before Bruce Springsteen was the Boss, there was Steinbrenner. Springsteen never wore the moniker very well. Even when Bruce was The Boss, he didn't act like one. Sure, he made a lot of money and sold out stadiums wherever he went, but he wasn't a Boss. Springsteen was quiet, introspective, and avoided the off-stage limelight.

Steinbrenner was just the opposite. He never shied away from the cameras. He always had something to say about something and somebody. He was a boss that cubicle minions can understand: a man that is feared, respected, loved, and loathed, often in equal amounts, sometimes all at once. He was a loudmouth Boss with a capital B. Steinbrenner knew it, and he lived the role without shame.

Fans, sportscasters, players, executives, the nation at large, everybody has something good or bad to say about The Boss. To some, he's the embodiment of sport as business, and deserves grudging respect. To others, he represents everything that is wrong with sports in general and baseball in particular.

He got his start in shipping, but no one can accuse him of not being interested in sports. He coached football at Purdue and Northwestern for a spell. His first team purchase was the Cleveland Pipers in the American Basketball Association. The Pipers foreshadowed The Boss's actions with the Yankees. By mid-season of 1961, Pipers coach John McClendon had resigned, citing Steinbrenner's interference as the reason.

The Pipers went on to win the first ABA championship later that year. That was smallfry. Steinbrenner signed basketball star Jerry Lucas, hoping that this and the championship season would leverage the Pipers into the NBA. When the NBA spurned the idea, Steinbrenner spurned them back by disbanding the team. Steinbrenner wouldn't have been interested in anything that wasn't big time. Later, he had an opportunity to purchase the Cleveland Indians but was again spurned and couldn't close the deal.

In 1972, CBS owned the Yankees and were looking to sell. They approached Yankee President Michael Burke and told him he could buy the team if he had the cash. Through a middleman, Burke was brought in touch with Steinbrenner. The two hammered out a deal. Steinbrenner gathered investors together, and Burke was slated to be a minority partner. In 1973, they bought the team from CBS for $8.7 million, about $2 million shy of what the Yankees would pay Mariano Rivera in 2007.

Looking back on Steinbrenner's statement regarding the deal, it's easy to see the man that would come to torment fans in later years.

"We plan absentee ownership as far as running the Yankees is concerned. We're not going to pretend we're something we aren't. I'll stick to building ships." - New York Times

It's an understatement to say that those were hollow words. Steinbrenner had no intention of being an "absentee owner," as Michael Burke found out within months of buying the team. Burke was still team president in January of '73, but had quit by April. He was the first to ride the Steinbrenner merry-go-round. Over the years, 20 managers would work under Steinbrenner. 11 general managers have done the Boss's bidding. The Boss fired manager Billy Martin five times alone.

Billy Martin - (AP Photo)
His history with Billy Martin is the stuff of legend. Steinbrenner once had to fire Martin for slugging a marshmallow salesman in a Minnesota elevator (Martin wasn't adverse to fighting; among others, he once duked it out with a Chicago cabbie that said soccer was better than baseball). Another time, he forced Martin out after Martin said of Reggie Jackson and The Boss, "One's a liar and the other one's convicted." He was referring to The Boss's shady donations to the Nixon campaign in '72. The Boss and Nixon eventually forgave Martin's slight. They both attended Martin's funeral.

His relationship to players and their wallets made the biggest headlines. It is his true legacy. The Boss never had a problem forking out the dough. It is this that makes him most infamous in baseball circles. He drove the price of players up so high, so fast, that the numbers seem ludicrous in their scale. In 1981, he made Dave Winfield the highest paid player in baseball history by offering him a 10-year, $23 million deal. 26 years later, Winfield's salary is chicken feed. Winfield at $23 million for 10 seasons? Try A-Rod, whose contract earns him $252 million in the same span. Though hard to compute because of signing bonuses, the Yankees' average salary now hovers around $7 million per season. The 2006 league average was less than half that, at $2,699,292.

Steinbrenner was the owner that started fans saying, "He bought the team." Or, "He bought the pennant." Or, "He bought the World Series." He bought everything. There was, after all, nothing Steinbrenner couldn't afford to buy. He's always been an incredibly rich man, and he spends like one. When the league brought in the luxury tax in 2002, Steinbrenner couldn't have cared less.

In 2003, the Yankees were the only team above the payroll threshold, and shelled out a tax bill of $10.8 million (a third of the Devil Rays 2003 payroll). In 2004, they were taxed $25 million. In 2005, they paid yet again, to a tune of $34 million. If the luxury tax was meant to be a deterrent, it didn't deter Steinbrenner (or the Red Sox, who began to play catch up but still didn't come close to being taxed the way the Yankees were).

Steinbrenner was never one to mince his words. He's called out players and managers in the press several times. He once accused Derek Jeter of partying too much and not "giving 110%." He then ended up in a credit card commercial with Jeter, partying.

His feud with Dave Winfield in the '80s was long and mean. At one point, he hired an investigator with a gambling background to dig up dirt on Winfield's life. Commissioner Faye Vincent responsed by banning Steinbrenner from day-to-day operation of the Yankees indefinitely. When Yankee fans heard the news over a PA at Yankee Stadium, they gave a standing ovation. Steinbrenner was reinstated 3 years later, and Winfield opted to go into the Hall of Fame as a Padre.

In 1985, he told the press that a bad start to the season would not affect his opinion of manager Yogi Berra. 16 games later, Berra got canned.

On April Fool's Day, 1999, pitcher Hideki Irabu dogged it on a play to first. Steinbrenner called Irabu a "fat pussy toad" in the press, then refused to let him join the team in Los Angeles. Later, he apologized for calling Irabu fat, and said that the team needed Irabu "big time." At the end of the season, Irabu was traded.

Torre (Sports Network)
Most recently, he told the press that if Joe Torre lost game 3 of the 2007 ALDS, Torre would be out of a job. When Torre arrived at Yankeee Stadium for the game, he was told the news. Said Joe, "It’s what goes with the territory. It’s really not a lot of difference than in the past. If I get caught up in that, I’m really going to have a tough time doing my job, and I don’t think that’s right.” Torre never was Billy Martin. As a testament to his skills as a manager, not to mention politician, Torre has lasted the longest as a manager in the Steinbrenner system.

So now Steinbrenner is turning the team over to his sons. The Boss dividing the office, Caesar dividing the Empire. During his tenure, the Yankees have won 6 World Series titles and 10 AL pennants. They are without doubt the most successful franchise in North American sports, with Steinbrenner the most recognizable owner of a team. According to Forbes, The Boss is worth over a billion dollars. His $8 million investment in the Yankees was an extremely good one, as they are now worth over a billion dollars on their own.

The Evil Empire may be losing its day-to-day Emperor, but make no mistake: like the Wizard of Oz, Steinbrenner will still be there behind the curtain.

Sources: Wikipedia, NY Post, MLBPA, Ohio History Central, MLB.com, SI.com, ESPN

Winter's Coming - Pass the Sunscreen

I woke up this morning ready to watch some football. As is my wont, I stepped outside with a cup of coffee, and lo and behold, my feet got cold inside of five minutes. I checked the temperature. 10 degrees C. Hmmm. Where's all this global warming I've been hearing so much about?

Nietzsche
I remember reading Nietzsche some time ago, where he talked about crime and punishment. He had a theory that said as a people become more prosperous, so they become more complacent about crime. It is in third world and less prosperous countries that you find hands being hacked off for theft, stoning for adultery, beheading for murder, so forth. In prosperous countries you find words like parole, suspended sentence, no contest, rehabilitation, and community service.

Nietzsche likened it to a large beast regarding fleas. What are these fleas to me? I am large, successful, powerful.

The analogy can be used on a nation: what are these pesky criminals to me? They can't bring me down, they can't upset my balance of power. Nietzsche saw this complacency as our root for the ideals of what we call mercy.

I think he was on to something, and that it can be extrapolated. When countries become prosperous, so they become complacent about all things. It should be no surprise that Al Gore received a "Peace" award for talking about climate change. He is a Western fat cat, patted on the back by other Western fat cats. It does not matter how much pain and suffering is going on in the far flung reaches of the world. The West is fat and complacent. We have time to discuss the weather patterns of the Earth circa 2176 AD. The people in less prosperous countries do not have that kind of time. They're thinking about tomorrow's meal, or next week's bullet.

Roasting in June - Norway
Imagine Al Gore visiting Burma today and giving a speech on climate change and its impact on global conflict. If they weren't so polite, the monks would laugh him off the stage. Climate change? They're busy dodging bullets and knitting the bones that got broken in yesterday's crackdown.

Here's a news story about Dr. William Grey, a scientist that knows what's going on, both about the climate and the politics of the enviro boobs. His most telling line is,

"It bothers me that my fellow scientists are not speaking out against something they know is wrong. But they also know that they'd never get any grants if they spoke out. I don't care about grants."

He's worth a read. By the way, don't forget to check out my daily Worrisome Warming Watch in the links bar. I've chosen a place in the continental US that will tell us how warm it is again this winter. I think the name of the town is apt.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again, I can't decide which is better: global warming, so the babes are in bikinis more often, or global cooling, so they want to spend more time in the hot tub. Whatever happens, we'll find a way to manage.

You Tube Publicity Leads to Mayhem in London

This has happened more than once. The last time I saw a report like this it involved Facebook, when an English girl posted her party on the web, and her mother's home ended up getting demolished.

The internet has been going through twists and turns in the last couple of years, as more and more websites battle for the supremacy of turning you into a "somebody." This noteriety comes with a price: anybody can say anything they want about themselves, or you. The consequences of this information can be extreme.

In this story, an 16-year-old London kid was going to have a party with about 30 invited guests. However, details of the bash were put on You Tube, and several dozen uninvited teens crashed the gates. They trashed the place, stole booze, beat up the birthday boy's brother, and broke his father's nose. 6 teens were arrested.

Bummer night. You can tell it's a You Tube world when a 16-year-old has thirty friends to invite over for a birthday party.

I went on Facebook the other day and took a look at a few of the people that have labelled me as 'friend.' If you're not hip to Facebook, a friend is someone that knew you a hundred years ago, writes you an email, and then never writes you again. You're put into a "friend list," and there you remain.

You're like a collector's item from their distant past. Maybe they pull you out once in a while, blow some dust off, look at you in the light of the window, and put you back. Maybe they print out your picture and draw mustaches on it. Either way, you're theirs to keep, unless you 'unfriend' them, and who would want to be so rude as to do that?

Facebook is the Ebay of society. Instead of trading old lamps and hockey cards, you get the chick that sat next to you in first grade and the guy that made everyone laugh with the hand-under-the-armpit fart trick.

Of the 150 Facebook friends that I have, I'll bet that I've heard from 10 of them more than once. The rest just kind of hang out in cyberspace. I suppose they check in once in a while, but I'll never know it. If I update my "profile" by saying that I'm reading a newspaper on the john, three friends will probably write to tell me that I'm being too graphic, while the other 147 remain in the shadows, eavesdropping on me like spooky CIA agents. Were I, say, to write that I'm throwing a party on Friday, 150 people might descend on my house unannounced. And if I were a 16-year-old boy writing about having a party, well, let's just say dad wouldn't be too impressed.

You Tube, Facebook, Flickr, Digg, Blogger (which you're reading now), My Space, the list goes on. I've logged into a few of them, and it amazes me the amount of personal information that ends up there. People that use them need to ask themselves some hard questions: do I really know who's looking at me right now? And if so, do I really want them looking at me right now?

One thing that this English kid's hard luck story does prove is the answer to the most important party question. Where is the best place to have a party? Someone else's place.

More on the party that got out of hand here.

Early Buzz on Elizabeth: The Golden Age - Just Okay

I won't have a chance to catch Elizabeth: The Golden Age this weekend. It stars the ever-watchable Cate Blanchett, in a reprise role of Elizabeth (1998).

I rarely read reviews before checking out a film, but I stumbled upon this report card on Yahoo. If you're a review junkie, you'll find the early buzz on Elizabeth: The Golden Age here.

Look for my review next week.

Photo: Yahoo Movies

Radiohead Download - Publicity Stunt?

My friends have been buzzing about the recent Radiohead offering, In Rainbows. The band has been saying that they will offer the album over the internet, and fans can pay as much (or as little) as they like. Sounds great, right?

Not so fast. It's now come out that the album's download audio quality is subpar, and that the offer may have been a publicity stunt for the release of a physical CD.

More on the story here.

Photo: Axetopia

Al Gore - Nobel Sham

Al Gore has won the Nobel Peace Prize, sharing it with the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change. There's going to be a hue and cry from the old school types, who will insist that talking about polar bears is not on the same level as Theodore Roosevelt ending the Russo-Japanese war.

These critics miss the point. For the past half century, the Nobel Peace prize has not been about peace, but about politics. In the same way that a Nobel Prize for Literature means that the author's books are boring crap, so the Peace Prize means that the winner was some guy that, well, what exactly?

Child Soldiers - Sudan
Saying that environmentalists deserve a Peace Prize is a pretty big stretch. It's quite obvious that this was handed to Gore and his looney-tune buddies as a slap to George W. Bush, in the same way that it was handed to Jimmy Carter in 2002. I have no idea what Jimmy Carter has done to "advance peace," just as I have no clue what the UN and Kofi Annan ever did. He won the prize in 2001, after supervising the Oil for Fraud scandal and doing absolutely nothing to stop tyrants around the globe from murdering people, especially in Africa.

This is Ole Danbolt Mjoes, Nobel committee chairman, awarding the prize to Gore: "We would encourage all countries, including the big countries, to challenge, all of them, to think again and to say what can they do to conquer global warming. The bigger the powers, the better that they come in front of this."

Ah! Now I get it. If you use the word conquer, you can give the Peace Prize to anybody. Old Ole asserted that this was not a slap at Bush or the US for not adopting Kyoto (Clinton, darling of the Left, didn't adopt it, either). Still, one can't deny the Nobel crowd's bald politics. When handing the Peace Prize to Carter in 2002, then-committee chairman Gunnar Berge called it a "kick in the leg" to the Bush Administration. You can't get more direct than that.

Alfred Nobel, master of dynamite and TNT, started the whole Prize game back in 1895. Back then, the prize was to go to a person that fought for peace and disarmament. It now includes poverty, economic growth, and the environment. In other words, it's being watered down to include virtually anybody for anything.

Burma
The Buddhists that get shot in Thailand on a daily basis by Islamic thugs, the people struggling for democracy in Burma and getting tortured for their trouble, the peasants in Darfur that are hacked to death each and every day. No peace for them. Al Gore is being hailed as a prophet. How about doing something for peace now?

Here's another laugher from the Nobel Committee, upon presenting the award: "[Climate change] will place particularly heavy burdens on the world's most vulnerable countries. There may be increased danger of violent conflicts and wars, within and between states."

News for you, genius: the vulnerable countries are already in danger. There's no "may" about it. Violent conflict and war are taking place right this minute. Take off your rose colored political blinders for the first time in your life, and you might be able to see the blood in the streets.

It makes one ill to think that there are fat cats like Al Gore patting themselves on the back in Norway over a dubious scientific theory, while a few thousand miles away, men, women, and children are receiving the hard facts of a bullet to the brain.

Hugh Grant's Still Got It

I'm not much for the scandal rags, but I figure Hugh Grant needs some congratulations on this one. Every time we hear about a celebrity getting drunk and having fun, it is usually at the expense of the rest of us.

For instance, what do Lindsay Lohan, Mel Gibson, Paris Hilton, Keifer Sutherland, Nicole Richie, Haley Joel Osment, Gus Van Sant, Chris Klein, Nick Nolte, Kim Delaney, Aidan Quinn, Tim Allen, and Michelle Rodriguez all have in common? If you guessed drunk driving arrests, you'd be correct.

Celebrities that tell us how to vote and what to believe are kidding themselves. As the above list shows, they are no better than the rest of us, especially when it comes to "making mistakes," and "just being human."

However, Hugh Grant did it right. Apparently he was at a pub called Ma Bell's in the UK last weekend. He ended up partying with some college girls and went back to their place for a few more drinks. No drunk driving, no arrests, no scandal. Good job, Hugh. An example to the rest of the celebrities out there that make the papers by jumping behind the wheel and risking somebody's life.

Anyone that rips on Hugh for this night of revelry is merely jealous. Yes, Hugh is 47. Yes, the girls were half his age. But he isn't married and he didn't hurt anybody, so where's the problem? Show me an unmarried 47-year-old that doesn't want to go to an all-girl house party and I'll show you a liar.

More on the story here.

Photos: Daily Mirror

Grave Concern

To the question, "Is nothing sacred?" the answer in England is, "No."

Tower Hamlets Cemetery Park has been closed as a burial ground since 1966 because it was deemed full. Over 300 000 of England's ancestors are buried in the East London graveyard. Their memory doesn't seem to concern the Tower Hamlets council, which is considering digging up the graves in order to make room for a Muslim cemetery. What they will do with the 300 000 dead is also undecided.

You can read the whole story here.

Meanwhile, another report says that 1 in 7 UK adults are putting off having a family because of fears of terrorism. 70% say that terrorism is their biggest worry, with 58% saying they are regularly concerned about immigration.

The British politicians may not have paid much attention to the implications of the 7/7/05 tube bombings, the 7/21/05 bombing attempt, 6/29/07 nightclub bombing attempt, or the airport attack in Glasgow in June, 2007. But it sounds like the public has.

Photo: Daily Mail

Tell Me About It

By Daryl Cagle - Click to Enlarge

Faith Based Flop: Tory Blows It

The Liberals took Ontario for another term tonight, while the NDP made some gains. It's the first time in over sixty years that the Libs have won back-to-back majorities in Ontario.

John Tory, PC leader, blew it badly by bringing faith based schools into the equation.

If I were one of Tory's ousted MPPs, I'd be ready to take him into a dark alley and settle some scores. The PCs had a good thing going, and then their leader shot them all in the feet. Instead of making the Ontario election about the Liberals' record of broken promises, the Conservative leader brought a decidedly unconservative topic to the table and fumbled. For his ineptitude, he got the same message as his bushwhacked followers: the voters in his own riding threw him out on his butt.

Tory - Done
In a blatant show of how pathetic political cronies can be, those still clinging to his coat tails cheered his name when he announced that he would remain as the party's leader. Election? Lost. His own seat in government? Lost. His reaction: "I'm your leader." Yes, that is certainly something to celebrate.

The NDPs and Greens will make much out of their modest gains, but their success was probably made possible by Conservative protest votes: they didn't want to vote for Tory, but they couldn't bring themselves to vote Liberal, either.

That said, I do have to hand it to a representative from the Greenies. During an election night interview, he was asked if he was hopeful that the new referendum would pass so that the Greens could grab some seats even if they lost in their ridings, but won a percentage of the popular vote. He replied in the negative. He said that the Greens want to show they can win seats the old school way: by convincing people to elect them.

Class act.

More election coverage.

Photo: CBC

Al Gore - An Inconvenient Ruling

A judge in the UK has ruled that Gore's An Inconvenient Truth must come with guidance notes if it is to be shown to students for the purpose of teaching them about climate change. You can read the full story here.

You'll find my take from a few months ago here.

Photo: Al Gore on Saturday Night Live

Bud Out

Interesting news out of BC. Apparently a marijuana grower's home consumes three times the energy of a regular dwelling. Armed with this info, BC Hydro can tell the cops where a likely pot producer is living.

However, since authorities must give home owners a 48-hour heads up before an electrical inspection, the pot crop will rarely be found. The answer? Flick the switch.

You can find the whole story here.

Mr. Woodcock - Review

Director: Craig Gillespie
Writers: Michael Carnes/Josh Gilbert
Starring: Seann William Scott/Billy Bob Thornton
Runtime: 1 hr 27 minutes

I wasn't prepared to like Mr. Woodcock. It had the look of a movie that threw all of the funny bits into the trailers and wouldn't have much left to fill it out.

I was wrong. It is at times hilarious, at times stupid, but on the whole an entertaining picture.

Seann William Scott plays John Farley, a self-help guru who uses his childhood memories to convince people to let go of their past. As a kid, he was tormented by his gym teacher, the tyrannical Mr. Woodcock (Billy Bob Thornton).

While on a successful book tour, Farley receives word that he is invited to receive a prize in his Nebraskan home town. He rushes home to gleefully accept the prize and surprise his mother (Susan Sarandon) with the visit. Then he discovers the awful truth: his widowed mother is sleeping with Mr. Woodcock and, horror of horrors, she plans to marry him.

The movie takes risks. Thornton's role is the stuff repressed memories are made of. We see him in various flashback scenes, as Farley relives his childhood every time he glances at the smug Woodcock's face.

Woodcock is a macho bully, the kind of gym teacher that ridicules fat kids in front of their peers. For him, there's no excuse for not winning. Have asthma? Take a lap. Overweight? Take a lap. Forgot your gym clothes? Take phys ed in your underwear.

This movie will not be a favorite of anyone that dreaded gym class. For a modern movie, it lets it all the bad psychology hang out, and Thornton's character is not subtle. In the first twenty minutes, I was wondering if I was watching a comedy, or a disturbing movie about abuse. That's what's strange about today's films: you can force characters to do all kinds of sick physical comedy, and it's okay. It's the mental stuff that scares you. Mr. Woodcock is scary.

Then it got to me.

That is always the litmus test of comedy, and it can show us things about ourselves. Perhaps disturbing things. For instance, I don't think that this movie is going to break too many box office records. Thornton enjoys playing Oscar winning break-your-heart roles one minute, and downright nasty, unsettling roles the next. I consider it part of his charm as an actor. Others do not. Mr. Woodcock the character is an absolute detestable jerk. Nothing about him should be charming or funny.

But I laughed. I laughed when he made the fat kid do chin ups in his BVDs. I laughed when he volunteered at the retirement home water aerobics class and asked an old woman, "You think you're the only one with a hip replacement? Take a lap." I laughed when he told Farley to be prepared to get spanked at a competition, then said, "You like getting spanked. Must run in the family."

Billy Bob Thornton is a strange actor. Monster's Ball, to Bad Santa, to Astronaut Farmer, to Mr. Woodcock. I do not know who the real Billy Bob Thornton is. The guy who plays stellar roles and draws a tear to your eye, or the guy that makes you want to punch him in the face and sue him for a hate crime?

That is why he's so fun to watch. You don't know what he's going to do next. Thornton has a knack for making any unseemly character appear suddenly gentle and lovable. A wry smile, a quick wisecrack, and you're saying, "Ah, he's okay. Just misunderstood."

Misunderstood? In one scene, he accuses a crippled old man of faking it. So he grabs the old man's wheel chair and dumps him into the deep end of the pool, telling him to sink or swim. That shouldn't be funny. I laughed my head off.

I found myself wondering what goes through Thornton's head. He must know that everyone watching the movie is going to decide that Billy Bob Thornton is a jerk. All of the star power is going to vanish in the blink of an eye. But he dumps the old man in the pool anyway.

The movie doesn't always work. There are a few moments where the jokes fall flat. On the whole, though, the cast brings it together. The film has a simple feel, as if it were shot over a few weekends. The sets are spartan, and most of the lighting looks like natural light. The movie is better for this. It's a plain comedy that takes place in Nebraska. It spent most of its budget on the actors. How much hi-tech do you want?

I was impressed with Seann William Scott. He's managed to tone down the shrill character acting from his American Pie days, and he turns in a good performance. Susan Sarandan plays it by the numbers and does a good job, too. Ethan Suplee, as Nedermeyer, has one scene involving a video camera that made me howl. It's about as juvenile a scene as you can get, but I couldn't help it.

Mr. Woodcock is just what you need if you're not looking for high art, and just want to laugh at someone else's expense. Which, like it or not, is exactly what comedy is.

Photos: Yahoo Movies

Happy Thanksgiving

Today is Thanksgiving in Canada, which is a good thing for hard working Canucks. It's a day off to sit around and do zip. It also means I won't have to hear "Happy Turkey Day!" for another year. Likewise, "Gobble-gobble!" from supposed adults.

I have nothing against Thanksgiving. I've always thought it was the lesser holiday to Christmas, but still a good one. The Americans by and large treat their November Thanksgiving as the holiday of the year. Canadians more or less see it as another one of the numerous holidays celebrated month to month.

The idea behind Canadian Thanksgiving gives me a smile. In 1578, English explorer Martin Frobisher attempted to find a route to the Orient by way of North America. It didn't work. To give thanks for surviving the long journey, he had a Thanksgiving celebration in Newfoundland.

This, we're told, is where Thanksgiving comes from. It sounds a bit too pat for my liking, but I'll take it. I like the image of a grizzled explorer sitting down by the fire and saying, "Thank God we didn't die on that damn trip." I especially like the artwork of the Thanksgiving founder. That's him at the top of this article, packing heat and a stare-down that would make Clint Eastwood proud.

Frobisher's little celebration pre-dated the American pilgrims' Thanksgiving in Massachusetts by 43 years. The American version has it that the Pilgrims were giving thanks for their first harvest in the New World. They ate some munchies, chatted with the Indians, and had a fine time dressing in funny black outfits.

Then there is the French Canadian version. Samuel de Champlain, explorer par excellence, held a feast of Thanksgiving with his buddies after crossing the Atlantic to North America. His Thanksgiving was probably a holdover from the European fall celebrations, giving thanks to a good harvest, food on the table, so forth.

Then there is the Americans-came-to-Nova-Scotia-in-the-1750's version...

And on and on. Any history buff can find their own Thanksgiving story that they like the best. I suppose that is a lesson about people in general. Throughout history, people have been giving thanks for something. The dates and the names don't really matter. What matters is that they were thankful.

The Canadian Thanksgiving to me is the more interesting of the two big-time turkey fests in North America. It tells a story behind the Canadian condition. While the Americans have celebrated Thanksgiving as a general day of thanking God and his bounty, the Canadian one was, for the longest time, about specifics. Before worrying about Butterball and cranberry sauce on special, settlers in Canada were worried. About disease, war, death, and famine. Thanksgiving was a chance to celebrate surviving all of the above, and not so much about taking a day off from the office to watch football.

Here's a few Canadian Thanksgivings, with their reasons given:

Thursday, January 10, 1799. In signal victory over our enemy and for the manifold and inestimable blessings which our Kingdoms and Provinces have received and daily continue to receive.

Thursday, April 2, 1814. For glorious victories over our enemies.

Thursday, April 6. 1815. End of the war with the United States of America and restoration of the blessings of Peace.

Tuesday, May 21, 1816. End of war between Great Britain and France.

Wednesday, February 6, 1833. Cessation of cholera.

Wednesday, November 1, 1834 . End of quarantine of ships at Grosse Isle.

Thursday, January 3, 1850. For God's mercies and cessation of grievous disease.

Wednesday, June 4, 1856. For restoration of Peace with Russia.

Monday, April 15, 1872. For restoration to health of H.R.H. the Prince of Wales.

Tuesday, June 21, 1887. 50th Anniversary of Her Majesty's accession to Throne.

Tuesday, June 22, 1896. Diamond Jubilee of H.M. Queen Victoria.

Thursday, June 26, 1902. King Edward VII's Coronation (cancelled, changed to August 9, 1902).

Monday, November 8, 1921. On Armistice Day.

That was a biggee. World War I left such a scar on the face of Western civilization that Thanksgiving and Armistice Day were celebrated simultaneously for almost a decade. WWII movies have since eclipsed WWI's memory, but we still remember it in the form of Remembrance Day, on November 11.

The last Thanksgiving by proclamation was Monday, October 14, 1957. It was a day proclaimed for general thanksgiving to Almighty God for the blessings with which the people of Canada have been favoured. From that date forward, Canadian Thanksgiving was to be held for that same reason, and on the second Monday in October.

What's striking about the history of Thanksgiving is that it wasn't some hum-drum, run of the mill event. The one that pops out at me is the cessation of cholera, in 1833. Cholera? I thought that was a third-world disease. Then again, we were third-world in 1833. Cholera struck down settlers by the thousands. Good hygiene and science have sent cholera into the attic of Canadian history, but at one time it was a scourge of the people.

It's probably a good thing that modern Thanksgiving isn't celebrated for a specific reason. I'm amazed that Thanksgiving is still officially a day to thank Almighty God for His blessings. If that makes it off the government website and onto the front page, 50 different special interest groups will freak out.

Likewise, can you imagine the government or the Queen proclaiming a Thanksgiving event today? Special interest groups would argue for months about what the real reason should be. The First Nations would want it celebrated for the fact that they were here first. Different religious groups would want "Allah" or "Yahweh" or "Beelzebub" front and center. Animal rights activists would want turkey taken off the menu, and for us to give thanks that we can eat broccoli. Enviro-boobs would want it to be celebrated to give thanks for David Suzuki and the Kyoto treaty.

It would be a mess, and the Queen would be right to say, "Hell with it. I'm giving thanks I don't live in Canada."

Thanksgiving is emblematic of where we're from, but not so much where we're going. Its reason has been lost in the shuffle. On Thanksgiving Day, I prefer to look back. I give thanks for the settlers that didn't know they were doing us a grand favour by building farms, constructing railroads, erecting cities and towns, battling cholera epidemics, enemies of the Empire, and diseases of all sorts in order to give us...a day off from our hard labours.

Short Cuts -- T-BLANK-IF

Playing Doctor

I was driving on the 401 today, one of the busiest highways in the universe. It forms a bottleneck through the province of Ontario, Canada. Everyone trying to get through Toronto has to use it. What's worse, the people that run the highways put their heads together and gave every street in Toronto a ramp onto the 401, allowing people to use it more or less as a city street. Gridlock city.

Anyway, there were the usual traffic jams, and it gave me time to listen to morning talk radio. I seldom do that, as I've found that most morning DJs are embarrassingly stupid.

There's usually two guys and a gal. The guys tell pitiful jokes and the gal tells them that they're pitiful jokes. Then she reads a factoid that says how smart women are, and the guys say, "Was that factoid or hemorrhoid?" and everyone falls down laughing. Nothing is more boring than listening to people that hold a "degree" in broadcasting while they laugh over the airwaves.

Teri Hatcher
On 103.5 today, the gal played a clip from Desperate Housewives. In the clip, Teri Hatcher's character tells a doctor she wants to see what kind of credentials he has, to ensure that he doesn't have a diploma from "some med school in the Philippines."

When the clip was finished, the DJs jumped on the PC bus. One of the male morons said, "Why the racism?"

It turns out that this has become a controversy, with people in the Philippines saying that their medical degress are as good as anybody else's. The DJs backed them up, skewering ABC.

My reaction: get over yourselves. For one, the show is a comedy about ditzy chicks. For another, the comment isn't racist. Hatcher's character was not saying that Asian people make bad doctors. Her character is a dope, and as such, she thinks anything outside of her home town might as well be on Mars.

A furor in the Philipines because of an ABC sitcom? Get real. And besides, from everything I've heard, the Philippines don't have good medical facilities. A buddy of mine split his foot open while he was there. He saw two separate doctors. They gave him such great care that the wound went septic and he had to finally have it dredged out when he got to Vancouver.

The Desperate Housewives non-story once again shows me where the media stand when it comes to race. If Hatcher's character had said Somalia, Kenya, or Rwanda, nobody would have batted an eyelash. Just as they don't drop a tear when they hear about another thousand mutilated in Darfur.

The DJs eventually got off their race soapbox and moved on to Britney Spears and her parenting issues. They riffed on her and chortled with delight. Now I get it: Philippines good, single moms bad.

And if they don't?

Jerusalem Day has rolled around again. That's the annual celebration where Iranians march through Tehran and chant "Death to Israel, Death to America," and burn the Israeli flag. It's not as big a news story as Filipino medical degrees, which is why I didn't hear about it on the radio.

Ahmadinejad wants a referendum held in Jerusalem as to where Jews should be allowed to live. His take:

"Let a referendum be held in Palestine. It is our clear proposal to European countries [to have the] settlement of Zionists in Europe or in big lands such as Canada and Alaska so they would be able to own their own land."

See, he's not all bad. He's got some hot leads for Jewish real estate agents.

I especially liked this bit from Breitbart.com regarding the days' festivities:

"Although he subsequently toned down his rhetoric slightly, Ahmadinejad has still repeatedly predicted that Israel is doomed to disappear and questioned the scale of the mass slaughter of Jews in World War II.

The Islamic republic however insists that its nuclear programme is solely aimed at generating electricity for a growing population whose giant oil and gas reserves will eventually run out."

Oooooo-kay.

God? Who's that?

I'm in danger of being labelled a one-trick pony if I keep this up, but hear me out. I have another example of our culture changing direction. Whether it's for the good or bad is for you to decide.

During yet another traffic jam today, I heard this on the radio:

"TGIF! That's right, thank goodness it's Friday."

Just to make sure I heard them right, they repeated it: "Thank goodness it's Friday!"

Sigh.

All right, I get it. You're trying to remove God from the language and the culture. I'm not a religious guy, so I won't rant and rave from that point of view. But please, if you're trying to kill off our heritage and belief structure, try to be more creative. Exchanging "God" for "goodness" makes no sense. They come from the same root. What do you think people mean when they say, "Thank goodness."

If this keeps up, the next ten years are going to look and sound very strange. The American quarter will say, "In goodness we trust."

The Canadian national anthem: "Goodness keep our land..." (Incidentally, when are the PC weirdos going to change the "all thy Son's commands" bit?; then again, these jackasses probably think it's a reference to the "sun.")

The British anthem: "Goodness save the Queen."

They may even have to re-dub the Sex Pistols' version, and that would be a crime. Perhaps the punk rockers will rise up. If so, I'll be there to cheer them on. Honestly, who would you bet on? An enviro-boob with an "EARTH FIRST" sign, or a pissed off punk rocker?

That may be the answer to our ills. Mark Steyn has pointed out that if the 9/11 hijackers had tried to take down a sports bar, they would have had the crap kicked out of them. I say we tell punk rockers and Raiders fans that Al Queda called football a game of sissies and Sid Vicous a no-talent loser. They'd find bin Laden in no time.

Terrorism Works

I stole that title from Alan Dershowitz, who is at times infuriating, at times very insightful.

He published a book in 2003. It's called Why Terrorism Works. When I walked past the newsstand four years ago and saw the cover, I thought, "What's that lefty Dershowitz going on about now?"

I bought the book and read it in one sitting. He nailed his subject cold, and said what we don't want to hear: terrorism works. It puts a group on the front page and ushers their gripes into the limelight. It does not matter how much blood is spilled or how many arms go flying through the air. Terrorism works because it gets attention. Due to our historically recent desire to play Mr. Nice Guy to everyone and anyone, we feed that attention. We will bend over backwards before shutting someone up or shooting them down. The terrorists know this, and they push that advantage at every turn.

Dershowitz
In his book, Dershowtiz shows in no uncertain terms that the PLO got the attention they desired by hijacking planes and shooting people. To this day, the PLO is the only group, as opposed to an actual country, that has a speaking seat in the UN. One of their terrorists from the old days has said that discussion got them nowhere. Within ten years of blowing things up and terrorising airline passengers, they were in NY. Twenty years after that, they were shaking hands with Bill Clinton at the White House.

That's a tough argument to deny, since all the facts are there. Talk-talk-talk...nothing. Bang-bang-bang...the UN. Pow-pow-pow...Clinton. Boom-boom-boom...Israeli withdrawal from West Bank settlements. Got the message? They do. They wrote it.

I was leafing through the papers today and found a couple of interesting articles. They're the usual mundane ones about cancelling Halloween and Christmas celebrations because not everyone celebrates them. It's an argument that comes from the 1990's, but now it has a new twist: not celebrating these occasions because of Islam.

That's a pretty big shift in our culture. It used to be phrased as, "Not everyone celebrates them." Now it's, "Islam doesn't celebrate them."

In Colorado, an elementary school has changed Halloween to a "fall celebration." That's pretty pathetic. The word "celebration" exists only in the sense that you are celebrating something. A birthday, an anniversary, a holiday. Heritage. I would be okay with "fall celebration" if they were celebrating the principal falling down the stairs ten years ago, or perhaps if they were worshipping the Moon Goddess for Autumn Solstice. Then it would have some meaning.

"Fall celebration" has been created by these people precisely because it has no meaning. It is their way of saying "We're done. We are no longer the people we once were. We are no longer the people that our parents raised. We have changed. And since change is always done for the better, we are now better than we were before."

No costumes are allowed at the school's Fall Celebration. You can't dress up as Little Bo Peep, but neither can you dress up as a big pile of dead leaves. I suppose they're going to herd the kids into the gym, shout "Hooray!" and then go back to class. What else can they do? Fall Celebration has no meaning, and therefore no meaningful acts to perform.

Think about that. From this moment on, these children are being indoctrinated into the belief that one of their biggest pieces of cultural heritage is somehow wrong. They will now be raised to shun October 31st as a sham.

It gets better. In Illinois, a school district has allowed Halloween and Christmas to still be celebrated in schools, but on one condition: Ramadan must be celebrated as well.

And here's where I've got you by the short and curlies: because you know what Ramadan is. And that's why terrorism works.

Pre-9/11, I doubt very few of you knew what Ramadan was. The religion of Islam, and Islamic culture, would have been very foreign to you. Four airplanes took care of that. Suddenly Islam was on the front pages. A group called CAIR was now a lobbying force to be reckoned with.

Beirut Aftermath - '83
Islamic terrorists have tried for decades to get their agenda inserted into Western dialogue. It worked in the Middle East, but it took a lot longer to make it's way to North America. They bombed Marines in Lebanon, the World Trade Center in the early '90s, the USS Cole, and two US embassies in Africa at the end of the century. But it was 9/11 that put them on the map.

9/11 was the most successful day in terrorism's history. Muslims instantly became a minority group in North America. TV newscasters now bring them on regularly, to give a Muslim perspective.

The mother that started the ball rolling on Ramadan being celebrated in the Illinois school had this to say: "Did I say ban holidays? I did not. I said please help us stop the cycle of hatred. I said let's celebrate all of the holidays."

There's quite a bit of garbage in that statement, but let's pick the cycle of hatred.

If you mean the suicide bombers in Iraq, the murderers in Madrid and London, the killer of Theo van Gogh, or the murderous thugs in Thailand, then I am all ears. Otherwise, forget it.

I was having a discussion with a friend the other day. She was doing a pretty good Rosie O'Donnell, telling me that Christians are as bad as Muslims, and Christians have committed tons of atrocities and blah, blah, blah.

I said, "Name one from the past hundred years."

She hemmed and hawed. I said, "Okay, two hundred."

And she couldn't. Oh, sure, I guess if you Googled "looney+christian+killer+dude" on the web, you might come up with something. But be realistic. You can't name me one modern Christian group that has specifically declared their hatred of all other groups and set out to kill them with bombs, guns, and knives to the throat, while ceaselessly quoting the Bible as their excuse for doing so.

Lenin
Lenin, Stalin, Hitler, Franco, Milosevic, Mao, Pol Pot, Amin. Those guys were political killers. Religion made no difference to them whatsoever, except in the sense that they didn't want it around because it gave people funny ideas about who's really running the show. (Random aside: I love when people say that the UN and Europe should be consulted on geo-political matters; look what five of those leaders did to that continent).

"Stop the cycle of hatred." Excellent phrase, and that mom was a genius for using it. How can you argue against someone that hates hatred? Except for this fine point: the mother began this whole discussion because she wanted her daughters separated from other school children during lunch.

And here I thought this multi-cultural deal was supposed to bring us all together. Not so. Islam, however, is a separatist faith and culture, in word and deed. Yet a highly successful one. Jews have never had Hanukkah and passover celebrations in public schools, and they've been around these parts for centuries. Then again, they haven't blown anything up to show their displeasure about it.

Terrorism works. That is our message.

Multi-culturalism has already sounded the death knell of the West. Here, we separate people for their beliefs. By trying to make us a big, happy family, we've pushed each other further and further apart.

Our culture (yes, we have one; sounds funny, doesn't it?) is slowly being stripped away. We are becoming a meaningless people. Every time a bomb goes off, we don't rebel against the murderers. We sit down and listen. And listen. And listen. And give.

The Kingdom -- Review

Director: Peter Berg
Writer: Matthew Michael Carnahan
Starring: Jamie Foxx/Jennifer Garner
Runtime: 110 minutes

The Kingdom is a movie that has one big surpise, and it's a good one: it doesn't allow itself to deteriorate into a political diatribe.

That's hard to come by in a movie about terrorism in Saudi Arabia. These days, the 'no blood for oil' crowd have a hissy fit if you don't mention the political repercussions of gassing up at the local Chevron.

In The Kingdom, a group of terrorists enter an American compound in Riyadh. We learn that that inside the walls of this compound, foreigners are allowed to live like foreigners. In the opening scenes of the film, we watch as happy families enjoy a sunny day playing softball.

Then all hell breaks loose. Two gunmen shoot up the compound. A suicide bomber, disguised as a policeman, shepherds the crowd towards him with shouts of "This way!" Then he proclaims his sub-titled love to Allah, and blows himself and the families to smithereens.

Later, as rescue crews clean up the mess and help the wounded, another explosion goes off, killing dozens more. It's an old trick that the IRA used to practice, and it is something that the Israelis constantly fear: that the first bomb is simply meant to draw people to the scene. It's the next bomb that does the real damage.

In this film, the FBI cuts through some red tape and sends a team of investigators to Riyadh. They are headed up by Jamie Foxx. There is the usual "can we cooperate" stuff, and then Foxx and his team begin to search for the killers in earnest.

One thing I liked about The Kingdom is it's total lack of propaganda. There's no obligatory dialogue scenes of which side is right, which side is wrong. The Saudi characters don't accuse Westerners of worshiping gas guzzling SUVs, and the Westerners don't accuse the Saudis of being backward morons. The police from West and Middle East are professionals, looking for a terrorist, period.

That probably isn't far from the truth. The Saudis fear terrorism as much as the West, and for good reason. Osama bin Laden has said many times that he'd love to tear down the Saudi royal family. So while there may be many people in Saudi Arabia sympathetic to bin Laden's cause, the royal family certainly isn't. In this film, the royal prince wants the terrorists caught not for religious or political reasons, but because he likes things the way they are. If the US Feds can help destroy this terrorist cell for him, so much the better.

The film is very good at subtlety. It expects you to be educated about political events and religious context. It doesn't preach. In one scene, Jason Bateman casually asks, "I have an Israeli stamp in my passport. Is that going to be a problem?" The Saudi officer, played by a very good Ashraf Barhom, replies that it isn't his concern, and the subject is dropped.

That's good writing, because an Israeli stamp in your passport can be of grave concern to Middle Eastern officials. My aunt, who is American, went on a working tour of the Middle East. In Saudi Arabia, she had a massive hassle at the airport because she did indeed have an Israeli stamp in her passport. She was eventually asked if she was a Jew or a Christian. She answered that it didn't matter, but she was a Christian. Suddenly they were ten times more helpful. What does that tell you?

Another scene involves Jennifer Garner. She's inspecting the corpse of a dead Muslim. As she is about to take his fingerprints, an anxious solider shouts in protest. Another English-speaking cop explains that she cannot touch a Muslim. Garner says fine, I'll tell you how to do it.

Another example involves Garner covering up her flesh. She's wearing a tank top when the prince comes to pay a visit. Jeremy Piven, as the wise-cracking US attache, gives her a cloak and tells her to cover up the "boobies" a bit. She does.

The reason I like those scenes is this: they don't shove political and religious talk in your face. Bateman's scene doesn't turn into a dissertation on why Jews are treated differently in Saudi Arabia. Garner's scenes don't become a chance to spout off about the way Muslims treat women and non-Muslims. When she puts on her cloak to cover her flesh, there's no close-up on her face to show her repugnance. Sure, there is a place for that kind of dialogue and directing, but not in a movie such as this, because these are professional people doing a job. If you were flown to Saudi Arabia and told, "You can't take that man's fingerprints," what would you do? Shout and scream about inequality, or turn to your Muslim neighbour and say, "Fine. You do it."

The director, Peter Berg, keeps the film moving. Though there isn't a ton of action throughout, the film doesn't feel slow. Information is slowly parsed out, bit by bit, clue by clue. The finale is action packed, and relatively believable for the genre. The editing is crisp.

The cast is quite good. Jamie Foxx is excellent, and Chris Cooper is Chris Cooper - enough said. Jason Bateman was obviously cast to be the class clown. He does a good job, but it's too bad it is so obvious. Jennifer Garner's character suffers a little from the subtlety of the script: she has no yelling to do. Then again, how refreshing is that? A female character that's succeeding in a man's world, knows it, and gets on with her job as an equal.

The story stays true to itself. Islamic terrorists hate Westerners and think they all should die. The terrorists in the film play it that way, and there are no, "Let me explain why I'm blowing you up," scenes. Equally, Westerners and Saudi officials want to catch and kill terrorists, and that is the way those characters are played.

I think this movie was ultimately made to entertain more than it was made to educate. It will suffer from critics because of that. Critics will rate every anti-Western film with five stars because they feel that political jargon in a script is "brave." I disagree.

The Kingdom didn't shove things don't my throat, and I still learned from it while being able to enjoy the film. I think writer Mathew Carnahan was extremely brave for not going with every knee-jerk cliche on the subject of terrorism, the West, oil, so forth. He told a good story because of it, and producer Michael Mann didn't rein him in. Believe it or not, the story makers actually had the guts to show the terrorists wanting to cut off someone's head for the video cameras. Terrorists have been doing it for years, but nobody wants to brush up against the idea that these people are truly evil. The Kingdom does.

I'm glad the film was made the way it was, and I was pleasantly surprised, too.

October: Classic

Another baseball season comes to a close tonight. The season officially ended yesterday, but the National League has gone down to the wire, requiring a one-game playoff between the Padres and Rockies to see who will make a run at the World Series.

It was quite a season, especially in the NL. However, I don't see any surprises coming in October. The Padres somehow end up in the hunt all the time, and wind up on the early flight home after the first round.

As for the monumental collapse of the Mets, it was, well, monumental. They blew a 7 game lead with less than three weeks to go. Should have been a cinch. Instead, they let it come down to a final day where they had to beat a less-than-stellar Florida club, and get help from a Phillies loss. Neither happened. Glavine came out and pitched the worst clutch game of his life, allowing 7 runs in the first inning and committing a throwing error to third base. To add injury to insult, Mets slugger Carlos Delgado broke his hand on an inside pitch, so he'll be watching the World Series from his therapist's office while dipping his hand in a bucket of ice water.

The Phillies did what they had to do, winning their final game and partying well into the night. But baseball is a fickle mistress. No two week wait for the next round of the playoffs, as in football. These players must take to the field within the next few days, and stand the chance of going down 0-2 in a series while the champagne from Sunday is still drying on their heads.

The AL turned out as I thought it would. I said two months ago, when the Yankees were 'doomed,' that they would make a race out of the AL East, and that they would get into the playoffs.

The Toronto Blue Jays spent more money on their team yet again this year ($80 million and change), and yet again their wins went south. JP Ricciardi, the general manager, can say whatever he wants about injuries, but the facts are simple: make the playoffs. Now. This was his sixth year as the Jays GM, and his freshness has worn off. He's now a regular GM that is spending a ton of bread with nothing to show for it. Win. Period. Fans don't care about anything else.

Congrats go out to Lou Piniella. In his first year as manager, he's taking the Cubs to the playoffs. The Cubs haven't won a World Series since dinosaurs walked the earth. There's no reason to think that they'll win it this year, but with Piniella, they have a better chance than ever before. Good luck to him.

My early prediction for next year: Barry Bonds will end up as a DH in New York. The Giants dumped him, and he's too old to play in the National League. I can see the Yankees taking a chance on his bad reputation and giving him 4-at-bats per game with a few days off every month.

As for A-Rod, if he decides to leave NY, who can blame him? Last year, by anyone else's standards, he had a great season and the home crowd booed him. This year, he's having a Hall of Fame year and the NY crowd is chanting "MVP." Rodriguez must be thinking, "Oh, now you love me, huh?" If he walks, there is no reason to wonder why. It just depends if another team has a Brinks truck big enough to back all that money up to his front door.

Parler Nucléaire?

Iran is on French radar and - no surprise to anyone that knows them - the French couldn't give a damn what you think.

This is the latest statement from the French government vis a vis Iran's nuclear ambitions: "Ahmadinejad says that the programme is peaceful. Ultimately, we do not believe him. Everyone knows that the programme has military goals."

That's French spokesman David Martinon at a press conference this morning. Pretty bold stuff by today's standards. Someone in the world had the chutzpah to call a dictator a liar.

Ever since French President Nicolas Sarkozy came to power, there has been a decidedly different tone emanating from Paris.
This is Sarkozy on August 27: "A nuclear-armed Iran for me is unacceptable...This approach [dialogue and sanctions] is the only one that would prevent a catastrophic alternative: the Iranian bomb or the bombing of Iran."

That raised eyebrows, and no wonder. You just don't talk like that these days. But French politicians are fluent at speaking in forked tongues. They'd make masterful poker players, if anyone could stand sitting at the same table with them for more than an hour.

In the same "bombing of Iran" speech, Sarkozy didn't say that it would be the French that would do any bombing...but neither did he say they wouldn't. He then went on to add this about Iraq: "France was and remains hostile to this war...There will only be a political solution,” he added.

Iraq equals politics but Iran equals bombs?

Regarding Iran, French Foreign Minister Bernard Kouchner said this last week: "We have to prepare for the worst, and the worst is war." When the press freaked out over the W-word, Sarkozy tried to put out the fire: "I would not have used the word 'war." Thanks, Nic, that ought to put minds at ease.

Snakes and ladders, twists and turns. That has been the French modus operandi for the past two centuries. It went on vacation during the Chirac presidency. Now it's back, in the form of Sarkozy.

Anyone that needs evidence of the US drawing all of the anti-West limelight need only look at the public reaction to Sarkozy's words: there isn't any. Nada. You have to Google Sarkozy's name to find out anything the man has to say. Though France is a nuclear power and is more than capable of bombing anybody should they feel like it, the protesters remain strangely silent.

Imagine Bush saying the words "bomb" and "Iran" on the same day, let alone in the same sentence. Imagine the US Secretary of Defence saying, "Prepare for war." The headlines would be ten feet high. People would march in the street. CNN would trot out the analysts and we'd have a fine time hearing how "unhelpful" Bush is.

The French hide in the shadows. If I were the Iranians, that would give me great pause. I'd be very, very careful about the way I played this nuclear game. For the past two years, they have been able to manipulate the world because there was only one man to worry about: Bush. And he was transparently hamstrung by his own Congress, the world press, and the UN. Iran knew that it would take a lot, maybe too much, for President Bush to step in and do something about Iranian nukes before they had them. And once they had them, what then? North Korea put paid to that argument last year.

Then out of nowhere comes this Sarkozy character. The Iranians must be wondering how their luck could turn so sour. The French answer to no one, and never have. They stabbed the US in the back on the streets of Paris during Vietnam. They voted for "extreme measures" on Iraq for not opening their doors to inspectors, then betrayed the US again by calling the war a sham.

Pétain - collaborateur
During WWII, the French showed their colors. It is astonishing to me that people do not remember Vichy France, and the concessions that the French made to the Germans. "France" was not conquered by the Germans. Only part of it was. The French surrendered, formed a rump government, and lived out the rest of the war in peace while waiting to see which way the winds of history would blow.

The Iranians would do well to remember this, were they not so ignorant of history. Beware the man that does you a favor: the French are on the sidelines not because they don't believe in the war on Islamic fascism, but because they don't see anything worthwhile about it. They've been letting others duke it out, and watching for an opportunity.

People that believe the US mission in Iraq is all about oil are stupid or misinformed. The US actually believes what they are doing in Iraq is right, for moral and security reasons both. The French are vastly more cynical. They are the true oil-believers. While the Americans and Brits get killed, France buys the oil, and they don't have to fire a shot. All good. But a nuclear Iran changes the formula. A nuclear Iran will alter the costs of French oil interests in the region. The French aren't going to stand for that. Far cheaper to bomb Tehran then be strangled by Tehran's control of the the entire Middle East.

Interesting days lie before us. While the protesters march against the Americans, and the world sings the blues about Iraq, France has their eyes on a far different target. And nobody's watching.