I probably should make extra-clear that my comments, especially the ones at the end that may have come across as harsh, are directed toward Ms. Zacherek's professional work. I, for one, have no desire to be perceived as a "Zacherek hater"; I don't hate her. I've never met her and probably never will. As I said, I don't doubt she's a perfectly fine human being.

Her work is another matter, and that's what raises my ire. And the more I think about it (and I've been thinking about it for the last ten hours, around sleeping), the higher my ire gets raised.

Another element from the film that sticks in my mind: the marvelous little character bit with Russell, in a short monologue perfectly written and preternaturally performed by young Jordan Nagai, in which we learn about his absent father and get a sense of the usually unspoken ache he feels over it. Every time I think of Ms. Zacherek writing this movie's emotional content off as saccharine or manipulative, that's the moment that pops into my head. I've dealt with an absentee father and infertility issues, and while it's fine if the moments in "Up" treating with those issues slide off Ms. Zacherek's amygdala like water off Donald Duck's back, it would be appropriate, not to say human, for her to contemplate that one person's emotional manipulation may be another's emotional truth. Preferably before she starts running on at the keyboard.

I want to be very clear: Stephanie Zacherek has every right to dislike the movie and say so. My issue is not with the fact that she has opinions on it that differ from mine (and I certainly didn't think it perfect or anywhere close to Pixar's best efforts). My issue is with the fact that, time and again, she says things that are so obtuse, so clearly NOT applicable to the subject at hand, that one can only conclude she either saw another movie entirely or is intentionally bucking whatever she sees as this movie's predominant reception.

Either way, I find that offensive. Incompetence offends me; intentional incompetence offends me more. We live in a time where true and excellent journalism is an endangered species, partially (I think mostly) because too many mainstream journalists themselves have forgotten or forsaken the principles of the damn job. Their role is vital if the ongoing American experiment is to succeed, but they couldn't care less; they're too busy worrying about their summer houses and palling around with the very people they're supposed to be covering.

Now, some may read that and say, "Okay, but what the hell does that have to do with Stephanie Zacherek? She's just a film critic." True; she's not Judith Miller or Jeffrey Rosen. But as a creative professional, I assert without shame that, to me, journalistic malfeasance in a critic or a reporter who covers creative media is just as morally reprehensible. It demeans and degrades art and the efforts of those who make it -- and anyone who doesn't count the storytellers at Pixar among that number doesn't know her ass from a hole in the ground -- and it pisses me off.

What it comes down to is this: I work hard at what I do. It may not be the most important job in the world, making stories and art, but I think it matters and makes the world a slightly better place, and because I work hard I'm pretty damn good at it. And I'm getting a little sick of looking around the world at all the people, especially in positions of influence or power, who manifestly, demonstrably do not try to be good at what they do. When it's just a sales clerk or a movie reviewer, the damage may be limited to annoyance; when it's a president or a Fed Reserve chairman, the harm may be worldwide and even lethal to some. The scale may be different, but the principle is the same.

If this comparison strikes some as overblown, fine. They're entitled to their opinion. But enough is enough. Gandhi told me to be the change I want to be in the world, and that's what I'm trying to be. Stephanie Zacherek, on the other hand, is just trying to front that she's the coolest kid in school, and she's doing it at the expense of people who put their hearts and souls into what they do, and of the moviegoers who get something out of it. I'm sorry, but I find that shallow and despicable -- again, professionally, not personally, but shallow and despicable just the same.

(Oh, and for the record, I too prefer Keaton to Chaplin. I don't know what the hell THAT has to do with anything.)