Friends in Low Places.

“I need to know if Stayman is a career or a political appointee…I think we can do something about it, but I’m trying to figure out what is the best way to go about it. I don’t want a firing scandal on our hands.” An e-mail trail published by the Washington Post illustrates how Casino Jack Abramoff used the Dubya White House to remove his enemies, in this case a State Department aide advocating labor reforms in the Northern Marianas. (“ Abramoff’s clients wanted to keep paying immigrants less than the federal minimum wage to work in textile factories.“)

Intelligence is Relative.

By way of Bitten Tongue (who does a nice job of highlighting its provenance), Cinematical gets its hands on the poster for the Coen Brothers’ forthcoming Burn After Reading, with John Malkovich, Brad Pitt, Frances McDormand, George Clooney, Tilda Swinton, Richard Jenkins, David Rasche, and J.K. Simmons. (The trailer is here.)

Update: And, behold! An international teaser trailer for Burn hits the tubes. Update 2: And here’s a slightly different domestic version.

Rebecca Scarlett Barcelona.

No longer fighting over Christian Bale, Rebecca Hall and Scarlett Johansson get caught up in complications with Javier Bardem and Penelope Cruz in the trailer for Woody Allen’s Vicky Cristina Barcelona, also starring Patricia Clarkson. The word from Cannes was that Allen may be back in form after the insubstantial Scoop and the atrocious Cassandra’s Dream, so here’s hoping for the best.

Celtic Pride.

Looks like the gamble paid off. In an auspicious sign for all the cellar-dwelling teams out there looking to turn it around in one year, the Boston Celtics completely eviscerate the Lakers 131-92 in Game 6, clinching their seventeenth championship (and first for likable superstars KG, Allen, and Pierce.) Congrats to the Celts and to the Boston fans (Well, some of ’em)…and New York, take a gander. The draft is a little over a week away

Phi Slamma Gamma.

Of course, the Celts weren’t the only Big Green Guys going on a rampage this past week. Like much of America, I dutifully caught Louis Leterrier’s The Incredible Hulk last Saturday, partly to fill the cinematic void until the more-anticipated summer movies return (Next stop, June 27: Wall-E and Wanted.) And, well, if you haven’t seen it yet, this iteration of Hulk is about what you’d expect after Ang Lee’s notable misfire: Namely, it’s two hours of mostly mindless, Gamma and CGI-enhanced action sequences, strung together by generous heapings of Marvel continuity pr0n and a few bare threads of story, ripped mostly from the old TV show. Now, ever since Marvel hired the director of The Transporter to take another crack at Banner, this is exactly what the Hulk relaunch was billed to be. And since I too desired to see more “Hulk Smash!” from the Ang Lee version, I find it hard to be too down on these proceedings, and I’d say I enjoyed myself most of the time. Still, there’s not much here here. If you’re not a “Marvel guy” and just feel like taking in a super hero movie to whet the appetite for Hellboy 2 and The Dark Knight, I’d spend your money on Iron Man.

After a spiffy quick-edit reintroduction to the Hulk’s origin (albeit without Rick Jones or a gamma-nuke), Leterrier’s Incredible Hulk begins its first hour with a man on the run. It’s been 157 days since Bruce Banner (Edward Norton) last went all Tyler Durden on us, and he’s now hiding out in the sprawling slums of Rio de Janeiro, trying to stay off the grid, and otherwise working to keep a lockdown on his anger issues. But the US military — represented by one take-no-guff, mustachioed general, Thunderbolt Ross (William Hurt) and his deadly, if aging, new Special Ops assassin, Emil Blonsky (Tim Roth) — wants its potential Gamma-weapon back, and they will follow Banner to all ends of the earth to reacquire it, including the City of God. The first attempt at capture results in an “incident,” prompting Banner to head back to the States to look for a cure (with the help of his old flame, Betty Ross (Liv Tyler)) and the government to consider growing its own enhanced supersoldier (with the aid of the WWII-era superserum that helped bring forth Captain America.) Alas, Specialist Blonsky just can’t get enough, and before long he’s toyed with the forces of nature enough to make of himself an Abomination. This is what the military experts refer to as “blowback”…

And commence the smashing. But fear not, faithful readers! From the aforementioned super-serum to the Tony Stark sighting (now featured in the commercials), we have enough nods to the expanded Marvel universe amidst the carnage to make even Comic-Book-Guy blush. We’ve got S.H.I.E.L.D., we’ve got Doc Samson, we’ve got The Leader. (Fans of the TV show, take note also of the Bill Bixby and Lou Ferrigno sightings.) On one hand, for a old-school comic reader like me (albeit not a huge fan of The Hulk), the fact that Marvel was taking their properties to the next level and introducing interfilm continuity was the most exciting thing about this project. On the other, all the fanboy nods throughout made this film feel somewhat inchoate and unformed on its own. (What’s more, making it seem like the entire Marvel universe is in play carries its own pitfalls. When Banner is first seen discussing a cure online with a mysterious “Mr. Blue” out of New York City, I couldn’t believe they’d managed to shoehorn Reed Richards into the film. When it turned out to be someone else, I found myself let down.)

Finally, I know that I was among those asking for more mayhem and destruction from Ang Lee’s film, and that, as a character, the Hulk doesn’t really have any other setting other than “destroy things.” Still, by the time the Hulk and the Abomination engage in a climactic CGI-slugfest in my old ‘hood, I was well on the way to checking out. Part of the problem, I think, is that the fight here plays almost exactly like the final Iron Monger sequence of Iron Man. Our hero must face a bigger, more powerful eeeevil version of himself, and occasionally ensure that his significant other isn’t in the line of fire. If we’re running that show again, to be honest, I’d rather watch it with Downey and the Dude than with these two pixellated monstrosities. All that being said, Leterrier, Norton & co. have done a passable job with this Hulk do-over, and — as with Iron Man — if they’re getting the gang back together for another run, you could probably count me in for a matinee. Just maybe bulk the story up a little more next go, fellas. Too much smashing make Hulk brain tired.

Al Little Late. | According to Doyle.

“The outcome of this election will affect the future of our planet…Take it from me — elections matter.” Finally, Al Gore endorses Sen. Obama. (Not exactly a profile in courage at this point, but could we really expect anything less from the man?) Well, in any case, welcome aboard.

Also joining Team Obama today: Patty Solis Doyle, who has been hired to be “chief of staff to the future vice presidential running mate.” As Doyle, “a native Chicagoan with deep ties to many senior Obama aides,” is no longer on speaking terms with Sen. Clinton (to whom she “devoted her adult life“) after having been blamed for Iowa, it would seem Clinton will not be making the veep short list. Try to contain your despair.

The Man Behind the Curtain.

“‘He ran at full throttle, in both work and play, and was a man of kindness, wisdom and great humor,’ Cameron said in an e-mail to The Associated Press. ‘He was a kid that never grew up, whose dreams were writ large on the screens of the world. I am proud to have been his friend, and I will miss him very deeply.‘” Stan Winston, 1946-2008.

The Press Rests.

“‘Lawrence Spivak, who founded ‘Meet the Press,’ told me before he died that the job of the host is to learn as much as you can about your guest’s positions and take the other side,’ he said in a 2007 interview with Time magazine. ‘And to do that in a persistent and civil way. And that’s what I try to do every Sunday.’” Moynihan man turned pundit-king Tim Russert, 1950-2008. Now, that‘s a surprise. Russert was a guy I actually met a few times during my Carville days (in fact, I once inadvertently hit him with a whiffleball bat…long story), and he always seemed a genuine, amiable sort, particularly by DC talking-head standards. Obviously, his unique brand of political interrogation left something to be desired. Still, he was taken relatively young (and before his father), which is always tragic. Rest in peace, Russ.

Give the Celts — and MJ — their due.

“‘We just wet the bed,’ Kobe said. ‘A nice big one, too. One of the ones you can’t put a towel over. It was terrible.‘” A brief note regarding the Lakers’ historic collapse at home last night in Game 4: I remain down on Bill Simmons, but he’s got an excellent point here: “[L]et’s just say MJ’s teams never blew a 24-point lead at home in the Finals…The Kobe-MJ thing…done. Over. Jordan never would have let that happen in the Finals. Ever. Under any circumstances. Nobody is ever allowed to bring this up again.