Here's a stop-the-presses moment: a Hollywood movie is thought to be insensitive, exploitive, and poorly-timed. From all that I've read, the director has taken exceptional pains with the feelings of those closest to the murdered victims, as Ms Zacharek's second and third paragraphs show. I honor the memmory of all that occured on that dread day, but if today, the 26th of April, is too soon, can someone give me an approximate date when your sensitivities will allow me to see a movie (for God's sake, a movie!)? And what if you heal a little quicker than someone else? Shall we take a poll to determine when at long last this nation stops walking in lock-step?

To me, it seems as if people are only reflexively appalled by the thought of dramatizing the events of the day -- and as awful and epochal as the day was, we need to move on. Everyone (not necessarily referring to any LWs in particular, but people in general) seems terrified to admit that, well, yeah, life goes on. Admitting so is not like spitting in the eye of those whose grief is real; it is a natural part of the process. If the events of 9/11 still torture you to a degree that you cannot even contemplate its being dramatized, then some more active form of therapy besides letter-writing might be in order.

To me, all the anxiety about the movie seems to be more knee-jerk than authentic. There was little outrage when the two or three made-for-TV movies were shown. Perhaps television movies are deemed unworthy of the thoughtful criticism the readers of Salon consider themselves capable of. Instead of yelling "Too soon" during the previews for the movie, people should shout out "Too soon for me, thanks, but perhaps it is time that we begin to memorialize those whose actions we so steadfastly admire in ways other than the endless bickering in New York and the repellent scare-mongering in Washington, and let's increase port security and make airport screening a real test instead of the laughable exercise in making old ladies undress!"

Ms Zacharek's review of Kinky Boots makes me want to see it all the more. I didn't know much about it (except for a snippet I saw on the BAFTA Awards), but her point about such slight comedies is what makes it attractive to me: "They offer a showcase for performers whom we often think of as 'serious' actors to do light comedy." The British do this well -- if their so-so comedies do not induce hysterics, they are at least a chance to see good actors stretch a bit. "Sweet-natured" American comedies have a tendency to follow a pattern of serious actors dropping into dumb love stories ( Must Love Dogs, Prime, Along Came Polly, etc.).

Perhaps seeing Chiwetel Ejiofar as a tranny will, if nothing else, erase forever the memory of Swayze and Snipes doing drag in the service of a dull "fun" movie. Reason enough, I'd say.

Remember when Peter Finch in Network says, to those who want to be left alone with their microwave ovens and new dishwashers, "Well I'm not going to let you alone"? Joe Conason's article serves the same purpose, because just as I feel like throwing my hands up in the air and resigning, an article like this comes along to make me feel engaged. And enraged.

How did this happen? How have we not been able to reach accord or at least wary amity with the Iranian government 27 years after the Shah's overthrow? True, they have not been open to overtures, but I think that Mr Conason articulates the problem -- diplomatically, the US is so feared and loathed that we cannot get anything done. We cannot even convince other nations who do not want Iran to have nuclear arms to work with us. Allies obstruct us, our enemies list grows, and we continue to be the frustrated behemoth. We've managed to build a cage for ourselves that just barely holds us, with little room for maneuvering or shifting (i.e., the sine qua non of diplomacy).

President Bush may have many years after his term ends to ponder the effects of his squandering the diplomatic will needed to deal with a nuclear Iran on the continuing disaster that is Iraq.

While I thought the scene was a bit forced (the pastor just walks into a mobster's room and starts a creationist debate?), it was exceptionally well-played. Tony's forbearance was intriguing -- he doesn't buy that stuff, does he? Michael's reasoning that Adam & Eve couldn't coexist with a T Rex is brilliant. I think Hesh had the best line, though -- when his wife says that stuff about being friends to the Jews, he says, "You wait." Chilling and true and scary and spot on.

I have on a few occasions enjoyed the reviews of movies more than the movies theemselves ("Titanic" is the prime example; similarly, "Gladiator" and "American Beauty"). If critics praise a movie we like, we feel validated; panning a movie we like makes us ask, What do they now?

Miller is correct; it is the writing that makes us read reviews of even the most tedious formula flick. Without the style and incisive commentary, the review is worthless. There is an apocryphal story that has Darryl F. Zanuck, head of 20th Century Fox, asking the acerbic Oscar Levant what he thought of Zanuck's bloated prestige picture "Wilson." Levant said it was terrible, and Zanuck fumed. "Who are you to say it's terrible?" he demanded. "Who the hell do you have to be?" parried Levant. Exactly. Anyone can have an opinion, but a wisecrack is not criticism (no matter how stupendously enjoyable the crack is).