The Leaky Cauldron.

While Dubya and the GOP continue to smear and threaten the whistleblowers who exposed this administration’s recent egregious violations of civil liberties — the warrantless wiretaps or the secret gulags, for example — papers filed by Plamegate prosecutor Patrick Fitzgerald disclose that Scooter Libby was actually told to leak classified information to the press by Dubya and Cheney (although not necessarily the identity of Valerie Plame.) “Libby said he understood that ‘he was to tell [Judith] Miller, among other things, that a key judgment of the NIE held that Iraq was “vigorously trying to procure” uranium,’ Fitzgerald wrote.” Replied DNC chair Howard Dean today, “The fact that the president was willing to reveal classified information for political gain and put the interests of his political party ahead of America’s security shows that he can no longer be trusted to keep America safe.” At the very least, given his own penchant for selective leaking, it means Dubya is being a tremendous hypocrite every time he starts equating whistleblowers with terrorist sympathizers, and that his repeated promise to find the leakers in his administration is roughly equivalent to OJ’s hunt for the real killers. Update: ABC’s John Cochran and Salon‘s Farhad Manjoo break down the implications. Update 2: Fitzgerald makes a correction.

Insurance Ensured.

“‘We insist that everybody who drives a car has insurance,’ Romney said in an interview. ‘And cars are a lot less expensive than people.’” In a new tack on ameliorating the problem of the uninsured, Massachusetts passes a law mandating that all citizens buy health insurance. “As simple as the idea sounds — buy insurance or else — the proposal is complex and, in some cases, still unfinished. For instance, it leaves the task of determining exactly how much some low-income residents will pay for their new, more affordable policies to a new agency that would serve as a liaison between the government, policyholders and private insurance companies.“

Hard Candy.

Oof, and y’all thought shoplifting was bad…I don’t really want to get into the sad and horrifying story of Homeland Security flak and child molester Brian Doyle. Suffice to say, is this what “restoring honor and dignity to the White House” looks like? Ok, that may be a cheap shot, but if this sick tale had happened on Clinton’s watch, we would never hear the end of it.

Straight Talk on Gay Marriage.

“‘Obviously, it’s a very difficult issue and evokes a lot of emotions,’ Feingold said in a telephone interview yesterday. ‘I think it’s something ultimately that people throughout the country will accept, but it’s not an easy issue.'” Unlike many of his Dem colleagues (and potential rivals in 2008), Feingold comes out for legalizing same-sex marriage. “Feingold noted that removing the prohibition against gay marriage would not impose any obligation on religious groups. He indicated that no religious faith should ever be forced to conduct or recognize any marriage, but that civil laws on marriage should reflect the principle of equal rights under the law.“

Hammering Away.

“‘Any rational person in [DeLay’s] position would be very concerned,’ said Kendall Coffey, a former federal prosecutor who is now a prominent defense lawyer in Miami. ‘Whether it’s working up the ladder at Enron or a drug organization, it’s classic strategy to work up by getting plea agreements and cooperation at each level.‘” As the GOP preps for a DeLay-less future, it seems that, for Boss DeLay — despite having theoretically left “on his own terms” — the legal woes are just beginning.

Another Season Nixed.

“Across nearly 50 years, the coaches of the best Knicks teams — Joe Lapchick, Red Holzman, Hubie Brown, Pat Riley, Jeff Van Gundy — sucked every ounce of talent and effort from their troops. They didn’t always win it all, but they emptied the tank in the attempt. When they lost, they lost without disgrace. Even when the Knicks were truly bad, the scent of those years didn’t rival the unbearable stench of this one.” With the Knickerbocker freefall continuing apace, ESPN’s Ken Shouler lays the blame squarely on Larry Brown. Well, when you’re 19-54, there’s a lot of blame to go around.

Miller’s (School) Crossing.


When I read in multiple interviews that writer-director Rian Johnson found his inspiration for the film Brick in the Coens’ Miller’s Crossing — which with Brazil and Amadeus holds the top spot in my all-time (non-fanboy) film list — my interest was piqued. And, to be sure, Dode, Tug, and the Pin of Brick bear more than a passing resemblance to Bernie Bernbaum, the Dane, and Johnny Caspar of Crossing. (In fact, some aspects of Brick, such as the mass of flunkies waiting in the hall and Brendan’s glasses (a.k.a. Tom’s hat), seem like direct lifts from the Coens’ film.) Still, ultimately the Prohibition-era Midwest of Crossing serves as a more plausible and fertile environment for Dashiel Hammett‘s tough guys and dangerous dames than does the sun-and-drug-drenched California high school here. Brick is worth seeing — It gets points for innovation, and for having the good taste to lift from a really great movie. But it’s also slow and uneven at times, and in its worst moments is somewhat reminiscent of Bugsy Malone. In a way, Brick also reminded me of Bubba Ho-Tep — an imaginative conceit that looks great on paper, but one that loses something in the execution. (That being said, and as some AICN reviewers noted, I could see this becoming a cult hit of Donnie Darko-ish proportions, particularly among high schoolers.)

So, what’s the rumpus? Brendan (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) is a high school loner forced to turn shamus when, after heeling him three months earlier for the in-crowd of dopers and jocks, his former twist (Emile de Ravin) shows up on ice. With his ally the Brain (Matt O’Leary) backing his play — namely by keeping an eye on the vice-principal’s office for him — Brendan starts digging around the high school underground to see what shakes. Along the way, he encounters a couple of filles fatale (Nora Zehetner, Meagan Good), a local drug lord — with a (maltese) falcon-headed cane, no less — (Lukas Haas), and some irate muscle (Noah Fleiss) who may or may not be chiseling on the side. Will Brendan get to the bottom of it all, and find some measure of belated justice for his dead ladyfriend? Or will he gum it, and end up just another broken-hearted yegg shuffling through fourth period study hall?

If you’re a noir aficionado who enjoys watching actors Hammiett-it-up, Brick is a treat most of the time. But, to be honest, some of the kids — not Gordon-Levitt or Haas, who are both very good — stumble over the period dialogue, and when they do, the whole artifice of this enterprise is exposed. Transplanting Hammiett into high school seems like a great idea, and at times the juxtaposition is really funny: Brendan tells an untrustworthy dame “If you need me, you know where I eat lunch” and warns the asst. vice-principal (Richard Roundtree), “If you’ve got a problem with me, write me up or suspend me — I’ll see you at the parent conference.” But, in the end, I think Brick should have gone farther with it. By having so much of the story revolve around a murder, a crime boss, and a totally absurd amount of hard drugs, Johnson is kinda cheating — this story isn’t really about high school at all. Brick would’ve been more satisfying, I think, if Brendan had just ended up navigating the interstices among high school social cliques as Tom Reagan does the Irish and Italian mob in Crossing. (Robert Cormier’s The Chocolate War comes to mind as a template for how that might’ve worked.) But in having teenagers speak in Hammiett’s argot, while in no way acting like teenagers, Brick ends up feeling more like a pastiche or a film school exercise than it really should. I’d say it’s worth seeing, but ultimately Brick feels more clever than it does entertaining, and, all in all, I ended up admiring the attempt made here more than actually enjoying the film.

Galloping Gators.

Congrats to the Florida Gators, who defeated UCLA handily tonight 73-57. According to Yahoo, I ended up in the whopping 34th percentile this year with my Final Four (Duke, Connecticut, Gonzaga, Ohio St.), which is my worst showing in several years. But, I suspect this was a tough year for a lot of people, given the George Mason phenomenon. At any rate, now to the NBA playoffs…