I recently ventured into the movie theater to see “Lakeview Terrace” and “Righteous Kill.”

The first film was good; the second sad, because it reminded of the glory days of its stars, Robert DeNiro and Al Pacino, which seem to be long-gone.

In “Lakeview Terrace,” the Neil LaBute-directed film starring Samuel Jackson, there is a nice switch. It’s not the rednecks that harass the African Americans, this time out. It’s Samuel Jackson, with an evil-eye look that would make Jack Nicholson proud, who is the policeman neighbor of a mixed-race couple, played by Patrick Wilson and Kerry Washington. The couple, Chris and Lisa Mattson, move into Lakeview Terrace and instantly enrage their old-fashioned neighbor, who is not enlightened enough to accept a black woman married to a white man. Plus, Samuel Jackson’s character (Abel Turner) has two young children—a teen-aged daughter and her younger brother—and he rules their lives with an iron fist.

As the rage grows, so does a fire in the California Valley that moves inexorably towards the ritzy neighborhood. Interestingly enough, the neighborhood Lakeview Terrace was the area where, in real life, Rodney King’s beating took place. The movie’s climax is reached when Jackson’s character hires a thug to ransack the couple’s home while they are out, but the pregnant wife returns early and is put in jeopardy. Extreme measures must be taken, and they are. It’s a well-cast, observant, well-acted film.

The second film that I saw in theaters this week has 3 men who are well past retirement age supposedly still chasing the bad guys on the streets of New York. Robert DeNiro, as “Turk” and Al Pacino as “Rooster,” are, first of all, too old to be called either of these names, and too old for the stunts they are asked to perform. Brian Dennehy, as their boss, must be pushing 80. What police department in the country still has 70 to 80 year old officers patrolling the streets? Not any that I am familiar with.

The rap singer known as 50 Cent plays a drug dealer who has set up shop in a club inside a renovated bank. Curtis Jackson, or “Spider” as he is known in the film, told an amusing story on one of the late-night talk shows about how DeNiro really did kick him in a memorable scene. He also said that he didn’t need any acting lessons from DeNiro on how to act after being shot. This, of course, is because “50 Cent” was shot several times in real life and lived to tell about it.

The always-good John Leguizamo as Detective Simon Perez and Donnie Wahlberg as Detective Ted Riley are well cast. They are the right age and they seem believable as police officers. But no matter how many times they show an overweight DeNiro puffing away in a jogging suit or imply that he is porking a much-younger partner (Karen Corelli playing Carla Gugino), and no matter how many times Al Pacino pumps that iron, it just doesn’t wash. Surely there are roles these two could play that are commensurate with their age and station in life. Pacino has done Shakespeare. Maybe he could do the Merchant of Venice. What he can’t do any more is the policeman of New York, and it’s really sad to see “Serpico” looking wrinkled and old. The scenes shot in bright daylight are particularly merciless for both these aging leading men.

Even though there is an attempt at a “surprise” ending, I was most surprised that DeNiro and Pacino would try to re-enact roles that, as younger men, they pulled off with ease. Now, as aging lions of the cinema, they need to either lighten up (as DeNiro has done in numerous comedies like “Meet the Fokkers”) or, at the very least, play age-appropriate roles.

Five “standing O’s” is a lot, but that’s what John Williams and Yo Yo Ma, backed by the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, earned for their efforts at Symphony Hall in Chicago on Thursday, August 21^st. Orchestra Hall was packed for the prolific composer of themes from “Close Encounters of the Third Kind,” “Star Wars,” “E.T.”, and the “Indiana Jones” series. And Williams delivered all of them, including the Superman theme, in performing encore after encore for the packed and delighted house.

Unlike many other Symphony Hall concerts I have attended, the patrons did not start streaming for the exits as soon as the final number (”Flying Theme from E.T.: The Extra-Terrestrial”) concluded. The crowd is generally more mature (read old), but not this night, and there are often empty seats, but, again, not this night.

The opening sequence featured the theme that John Williams wrote for the Olympics, which most of us have heard multiple times since 8/08/08. A sequence of Olympic scenes, including Michael Phelps in action, were synchronized to go with the “Bugler’s Dream/Olympic Fanfare and Theme.” When Williams—who looked a bit like Colonel Sanders with his white goatee, white hair, white jacket and black tie—directed the Symphony in the Spielberg themes he has composed over the past 35 years of working with the renowned director, clips from “Close Encounters of the Third Kind,” “Indiana Jones” (new and old) and other films for which Williams has composed the music were shown on a large screen above the Orchestra.

Yo Yo Ma, the world’s greatest living cellist (and Pablo Casals succssor for that title) was a joy playing Suite for Cello and Orchestra, the music from “Memoirs of a Geisha.” He seemed to be genuinely enjoying himself and he and Williams hugged repeatedly following the performances, with the audience refusing to let the symphony, which Williams pronounced “Arguably the greatest Symphony Orchestra in the world,” leave the stage without encore after encore. The program, which began at 7:30 p.m., ran on until nearly 10:00 p.m., as applause and “bravos” from the audience kept the performers onstage long after they usually exit. Truly a memorable night with Yo Yo Ma and John Williams, who has been nominated for 45 Oscars and won seven.

Williams has composed the music for over 100 movies, including “War of the Worlds,” “Catch Me If You Can,” “The Patriot,” “Angela’s Ashes,” “Saving Private Ryan,” “Amistad,” “Seven Years in Tibet,” “Sabrina,” “Schindler’s List,” “Jurassic Park,” “Presumed Innocent,” the “Indiana Jones” trilogy, the “Star Wars” trilogy, “The Witches of Eastwick” and “Jaws.” A student at Julliard, Williams was a jazz pianist in New York City after he studied privately with Rosina Levhinne.

In Los Angeles, his career included working with Bernard Herrmann, Alfred Newman, and Franz Waxman. During the sixties, Williams won four Emmys for his music for television. In addition to his multiple Academy Awards, he has received 7 BAFTAs (British Academy Awards), 20 Grammys, 4 Golden Globes, and numerous gold and platinum records. After 14 seasons as conductor of the Boston Pops, Williams retired to become Boston Pops Laureate Conductor and artist-in-residence at Tanglewood and has continued to score nearly all of Steven Spielberg’s films, which saw him write over 350 different versions of the 5-note musical “greeting” used in “Close Encounters” before he and Spielberg settled on the final sequence.

Truly a memorable night with two musical geniuses.

The collaborative effort “Ghostly Tales of Route 66″ which Michael McCarty and I have been working on for over a year has finally reached us. It has not yet reached Amazon.com or other such order services, but my box of books arrived two days ago and the stories are actually bound in book form.

On October 4th, I will read from the book at a celebration of the Route 66 bridge in St. Louis. I will be at the original Route 66 Mississippi River crossing, the Old Chain of Rocks Bridge. The bridge, now closed to auto traffic, is used for hiking, biking and walking.  Classic cars will be displayed on the mile-long bridge and the exhibits, stages, live music, vendors and speaker tents will be located on park grounds on both the Illinois and Missouri lead-in to the bridge. I will read one story about Webster Groves, Missouri ghosts on one side of the bridge and then read the story of the Lemp Mansion Curse on the other side of the bridge. It should take about 15 miinutes to read each story. I’m excited to have been asked and I will be selling copies of the books (which are only $10) at the event, as well as sending one to you, should you ask. (contact me at EINNOC10@Aol.com).

After the event is concluded, we will travel on to Nashville for the Town Hall meeting involving Obama and McCain on October 7th.

Bill Maher, the acerbic comic whose “Politically Incorrect” television show launched a thousand controversies, played the Chicago Theater for one night only on Friday, July 25^th and delighted a sold-out crowd.

Where to begin with an analysis of Maher’s ability to offend with his cynicism? He aimed many barbs at politicians, of course…even Illinois’ own Barack Obama, although, this night, he did end his stand-up routine with the comment, “Thanks for the candidate.”

Poor John McCain received the butt of the ribbing, with age-related comments that I won’t repeat, as they were pretty much what was to be expected. What was not expected was Maher’s criticism of some of Obama’s votes, and his follow-up comment, “I don’t make this stuff up, Folks. I just report it.”

In the middle of the show, Archer Midland-Daniels was mentioned, and a loud shout of support rose from a crowd member, whom Maher then crucified, expressing a great deal of dislike for the giant corporation. He also came down hard on corn. Yes, corn. He doesn’t like corn, apparently, whether it is as an alternative fuel or a foodstuff. He just does not like corn. What can I say? Take it up with Maher.

About the time that he was ragging on corn and farmers (whom he criticized as the biggest welfare queens) and all corn-related topics, someone heckled him from the midwestern crowd filling all the seats this night. Maher looked calmly into the crowd, found the heckler and said, “Now, that really didn’t add anything to the show, did it?” very calmly, as though this happens to him all the time. Cool.

I used to go to a chat room online called “Hollywood Café” and some of Maher’s writers were not glowing in their praise of him. However, his riff on religion and marriage, both topics he has addressed on his show (to say he is “a confirmed bachelor” is putting it mildly) were familiar and funny.

We were 3 rows from the top of this many-tiered palace of entertainment. I had just made a trip to the restrooms located in the bowels of the theater, which were another 3 to 5 flights of stairs. By the time I had climbed from the basement to 3 rows from the top, I needed oxygen. I don’t think I was alone. I could almost touch the Indian mural on the ceiling and the chandelier near it. Maher looked like a speck onstage, wearing what appeared to be a tan tee shirt with some sort of logo that I would have needed binoculars to make out.

His voice, however, rang out loud and clear, as did his lampooning of everything from gas prices to the demise of George W. Bush (let’s understate his comments and say that he is not a big Bush supporter), to why his married friends’ wives don’t like him hanging around, reminding their husbands of what they are missing.

It was vintage Maher on his one stop in the Windy City, and, Democrat or Republican, Christian, Jew or Muslim, there was enough material in his act to offend everyone at least once, and all of it was funny.

“The Pineapple Express” was sneak premiered for members of the Chicago Cinema group, and I was there (on Thursday, July 24^th). As Seth Rogan’s new film (”Superbad,” “Knocked Up”) my companion and I had high hopes for humor.

Unfortunately, while there are some laughs to be had, the overall storyline is weak. It has to do with a very rare breed of pot called Pineapple Express, which Seth buys from his dealer, a badly miscast James Franco.

Here’s my question: James Franco, who is a dead ringer for the young James Dean when he is cleaned up (and has played him on film) is cast as the scrungy-looking drug dealer. There would have been comic possibilities in the casting of “McLovin” (from “Superbad”) or, really, anyone who looks “funnier” than James Franco, who merely looks unclean in this film.

Seth Rogan, who is a process server, unwittingly witnesses a murder committed by crooked cop Rosie Perez and her boyfriend, drug lord Gary Cole. He can be tracked because he throws a half-smoked roach out the window of his car, and the Pineapple Express brand of Mary Jane is being sold only by one dealer (Franco) and has been sold to only one customer (Seth Rogan).

The problem is that the movie seeks to be an outright comedy, but there are shootings and deaths galore, which don’t add up to Com-e-dee. There is also one character who is repeatedly shot and yet remains upright and ambulatory. Not only does this defy logic and believability, it isn’t really that “funny.”

I guess what I’m trying to say is that I was disappointed in this new film, because I really loved both “Knocked Up” and “”Superbad.”

The new Batman film “The Dark Knight” had its World Premiere at Navy Pier in Chicago on Wednesday, July 16^th, and I was there. The screaming fans in front of the entrance got to see Michael Caine, Gary Oldman and the film’s director and writer, Christopher Nolan (”Memento”) who wrote the script once again with Jonathan Nolan (as they did for “Memento”) and whose soaring vision displays Chicago to good effect.

Much has been said about the memorable performance by Heath Ledger as the Joker, and he may well earn that posthumous nomination and Oscar for Best Actor. Certainly the film is as much about the Joker as it is about Batman, and it also has an added allegorical layer of meaning as it displays Chicago filming sites like the (still under construction) Trump Tower, the Sears Tower, the former Brach’s Candy factory at 401 N. Cicero Ave, which doubles as Gotham City Hospital and is blown up. The fancy party that the Joker crashes was inside the Illinois Center Buildings, Building 2 at 111 E. Wacker Drive. The aerial shots of Batman’s secret underground lair are 1500 S. Lumber St. The old (abandoned) Chicago Post Office at 404 W. Harrison St. doubled for the Gotham City Bank in opening heist sequences, and, in addition to the funeral procession down LaSalle Street and the chase scenes on lower Wacker Drive, there were various location shots at 330 N. Wabash Avenue, which was once known as the IBM Building. These included the Mayor’s office, District Attorney Harvey Dent’s office and the boardroom of Wayne Enterprises.

The movie created about 4,500 jobs in Chicago last year, which meant $17 million to the city. There were more than 300 Illinois vendors involved, from security providers to cleaning and catering services ($22 million in sales).

The political subtext of the script is there for anyone to see and hear. There is the issue of the invasion of privacy, which causes the character played by Morgan Freeman to tender his resignation rather than unethically use a sonar device he has created to spy on the public. (Shades of recent legislation involving amnesty for the telecommunications industry!) Lucius says, “This is too much power for one person. Spying on 30 million people isn’t part of my job description.”

Here are just a few of the politically charged lines: “Do I really look like a man with a plan? I’m like a dog chasing a car. I wouldn’t know what to do about it if I caught it.” This line (spoken by Ledger’s Joker character) certainly smacks of “W’s eight years in office.  Ledger goes on to say, “I’m an agent of chaos, and you know the thing about chaos, it’s fear.” (Orange alert, anyone?) Another line that resonated, for me, was: “You should have thought of that before you let the clown out of the box.” Indeed, we, as a nation, should have. The Joker also says, “It’s not about money; it’s about sending a message” and “I’m not a monster; I’m just ahead of the curve.”

Batman (Christian Bale) says, “I was meant to inspire good. Not madness. Not death” as we learn that, in the inevitable  sequel, he will have a “bad” reputation, since he is taking the fall for the mayhem another character has created.

Harvey Dent, the crusading District Attorney, is played by Aaron Eckhart (”Thank You For Not Smoking”), who says, “In their desperation, they turned to a man they don’t fully understand.” Harvey is in love with Rachel Dawes (Maggie Gyllenhaal), but so is Bruce Wayne (Christian Bale).

Repeated more than once is the line, “You either die a hero or you live long enough to be a villain,” and that seems to be the script key for the next installment of the Christopher Nolan-directed series. Nolan has single-handedly taken the franchise to new heights, aided by truly wonderful special effects, gorgeous aerial photography of both Chicago and Hong Kong (some shooting, also, in London and Cardington in the UK).

Here’s another politically charged message: “I told you my compound would take you places. I never said it would be places you’d want to go.” (The Joker). Another good one: “Know your limits. What’s gonna’ happen on the day that you find out?” How about this one that could well have been uttered by the “Decider:” “I don’t get political points for being an idealist. I have to do the best with what I have.”

There are a few clunky lines that will sound familiar (”The night is darkest just before the dawn, but I promise you, the dawn is coming,” as articulated by D.A. Harvey Dent (Aaron Eckhart). There is also, “I know the truth. There is no going back. You’ve changed things forever.” (Ain’t it the truth?) Harvey Dent declares, “The Joker’s just a mad dog. I want whoever let him off his leash.” (That would be Dick Cheney, for openers, and Rumsfield aiding and abetting.) With talk of “a misplaced sense of self-righteousness” and “decent men in an indecent time” where “the only morality is chance” a plot is woven that combines terrific action sequences with great special effects and wonderful music (James Newton Howard).

Again and again, the critics have pointed to the fine acting by one and all. Christian Bale as “the Batman” is set to continue this series and even to take on another sacrosanct movie of yesteryear, playing John Connor in “Terminator Salvation.” Michael Caine, as the Butler Alfred, turns in his always-competent support, and Gary Oldman as the Lieutenant who becomes Police Commissioner is good. But the best is Heath Ledger’s Joker, matching Jack Nicholson’s demented work that preceded this portrayal.

“The Dark Knight” made a record $18.5 million from 3,040 theaters, according to Warner Brothers (distributors of the film), as of Friday, July 18^th. That bests the 2005 “Star Wars Episode III: The Revenge of the Sith” ($16.9 on 2,915 screens) and puts it on pace to clear more than $100 million on a non-holiday weekend, placing it in the top ten.

The movie is beautifully made, finely crafted, well-written, has great music, is well-acted and plotted and…most interestingly for me…makes some strong social commentary, as when we hear lines like, “Some men just want to watch the world burn.” You can hear that simply as dialogue from a Super Hero movie, or you can really pay attention to the messages this movie is sending out, loud and clear in this, a political year unlike any other. When supporting players like Eric Roberts (”King of the Gypsies”), Maggie Gyllenhaal (”Stranger than Fiction,” “Sherry Baby”), William Fichtner (”Prison Break,” “Invasion” on television) and the leads mentioned above add their expert thespian talents to the mix, you’re watching one of the best movies of the summer and the year.

Director Marina Zenovich has made a documentary film that takes a look back at the sensational Roman Polanski trial for having sex with a then 13-year-old girl. The film, produced by Steven Soderbergh, among others, is amazing in that it gets most of the principals to comment, although, in some cases, the commentary is not to Zenovich, directly, but through other interviews Polanski has given since fleeing the country and taking up residence in France. The title refers to the fact that Polanski is idolized and desired in his adopted homeland of France, while, in the United States, he is still, technically, a fugitive from justice who is “wanted.”

HBO, ThinkFilm, a film by Graceful Presents, the BBC and Antidote Films all receive a credit, and the actual alleged rape victim (who publicly forgave Polanski in 1997), Samantha, Gailey (Geimer) is interviewed onscreen at several points.

Polanski’s main defense attorney, the Lincoln-esque Douglas Dalton, is quoted (today) saying, “What actually happened to the system of justice. I remain flabbergasted after all these years.” Roger Gunson, who, at the time, was the 37-year-old Mormon prosecution attorney, also seems to feel that the chief judge in the case, one Lawrence J. Rittenband, the Senior Judge in Santa Monica, mishandled the case because he wanted to “choreograph” the outcome to enhance his own love of the limelight. Judge Rittenband would constantly send the two opposition attorneys into the courtroom and tell them to play out a little drama according to a script he provided them that would enhance his (the Judge’s) reputation, in return for certain concessions towards one side or the other.

Of course, the fact that Polanski did admit to having had sex with a then-13-year-old girl is brushed over lightly. The fact that he did not view it as a “crime” is, indirectly, laid at the doorstep of his checkered past and his upbringing in Europe, a country which has a far less Puritanical view of sex than the United States. Nevertheless, Polanski’s admssion to intercourse with the then-13-year-old school girl, Samantha Gailey, whom he had been hired to photograph as part of a series on beautiful young girls from around the world, by Vanity Fair seems to be regarded as a “crime” only by a minority of district attorneys and a couple of police officers, who speak of it as likely to draw years in prison for the ordinary citizen

Mia Farrow, speaking of Polanski’s childhood in Poland, when Nazis killed his mother in the gas chamber and when he also lost his father, a childhood he drew upon in making the Academy Award-winning film “The Piano,” says, onscreen, “He didn’t have the blueprint for life that others had.” She remembers Polanski as “Completely infectious” and points out that, after a rough childhood, he thought he had finally found stability in his marriage to actress Sharon Tate, only to have the Manson Clan murder the pregnant actress, her companions and their unborn son, who would have been thirty, today.

(*It is interesting to learn that Polanski, now 74, has been married for 18 years and has 2 children, and that the then-13-year-old victim has also been married for 18 years and has 3 children.)

Both attorneys, the defense and the prosecution, agree that Polanski’s flight from the country was not surprising, given the Judge’s flamboyant behavior. At one point, the comment is made that it was “very unfortunate to have a judge who misused justice” and Polanski, himself, in an interview, says that the Judge toyed with him, like a cat with a mouse, for over a year. There is even a short film illustrating this capricious behavior, with Polanski made to dance while a look-alike for the Judge bangs a drum and shouts orders for him to do this or do that.

The prosecuting attorney, whom the filmmakers compared to a young Robert Redford look-alike, says that he noticed, when researching Polanski through his films at the New Art Theater Polanski Film Festival, which happened to be showing in the area at the time, that all his films involved “corruption-meets-innocence-over-water” and that the nude shots of the young Samantha in the Jacuzzi at Jack Nicholson’s home (Nicholson was out of town, at the time; the use of his home next to Marlon Brando’s house for the tryst supposedly contributed to the break-up of Nicholson’s relationship with his then live-in, Angelica Huston, who was not amused) fit this profile. Prosecuting attorney Roger Gunson thought he could make a case out of that, alone, and, when the young girl’s semen-stained panties surfaced, and were divided between prosecution and defense teams (actual description here of 7 men cutting the panties in half), plea bargains were discussed by the defense team that had previously been disinterested in same.

Polanski’s attitude throughout seemed to be, “Yes, I had sex with a 13-year-old. So what?” It seems to have been established that Samantha was not a virgin and that both individuals had consumed champagne and shared a Quaalude before what Polanski called consensual sex, but which the prosecution termed rape and sodomy. Other charges involving giving a minor illegal substances were dropped, in exchange for Polanski’s plea to the main charge of having sex with a female, not his wife, whom he knew to be 13 years old at the time.

From that point on, things began to go south for Polanski and his case. For one thing, the murder of his wife Sharon Tate was constantly brought up, and the film “Rosemary’s Baby,” in which a young wife is raped by the devil after being tied down, seemed to make a case for Polanski’s willingness to force sex upon an unwilling partner.

When Polanski was allowed to travel out of the country on 90 day “passes” to complete a film he was directing, a friend somehow talked him in to attending Oktoberfest in Munich. A snapshot taken of him seated between two young girls seems to have enraged the judge and caused the judge to decide to welch on deals made, informally, that would have allowed Polanski to serve only probation and the 42 days he was sentenced to Chino for psychiatric observation, where the state’s shrink pronounced him “congenial, but reserved” and said he was not a Mentally Disturbed Sex Offender.

Polanski, himself, admits, early on, “I like young women.” He goes on to say that he thinks most men do. He also comments, at one point, in the face of criticism of his actions following Sharon Tate’s brutal murder by the Manson Family members that, “My real problems started with the murder of Sharon Tate,” and that “Different people have different ways of dealing with life and grief.  Some go to monasteries. Some start visiting whorehouses.” Even his friends admitted that Polanski was a genial host who “liked to be the center of it all.” His romance with Nastassia Kinski when she was only 15, whom he also photographed, was well documented before the charges made against him in California.

Some questioned why Susie Gailey, the young girl’s mother, would allow her under-age daughter to go off, alone, with Polanski, saying, “This was a guy that had a pretty wild reputation.”  The victim, herself, said, “I had to worry about surviving the next day (at school). You can’t stop it, once it starts.” She seems to wish that her mother had not brought the charges against Polanski and that none of the ensuing publicity had ever occurred. Polanski, himself, rails against the press in interviews, at one point saying, “In general, I despise the press because of their inaccuracy and their deliberate cruelty.” References were made to articles printed after Sharon Tate’s brutal murder that accused Polanski, himself, of having flown back to the United States, committed the murders, and then left again. This, of course, was tantamount to punishing the victim and somehow blaming the victims for the crimes committed against them. Those close to the director spoke of his dark, sad, veiled side, his strong vision of death and sadness, his brushes with life and death, but his ability to prevail, despite much grief.

Polanski, himself, in dining with an interviewer in Europe, asks him, near the end of the interview to tell him this, “You think there’s something more to my life than my relationship with young women?” Obviously, the French do, as they made him a member of the Academie Francaise, and the President of the Academie Francaise, Arnand d’Hailtervilla, “He is one of us…”

Polanski faced anywhere from 6 months to 50 years in prison in the U.S., after the Judge became piqued at the photo of Polanski frolicking in Germany, and a year in the county jail was also a possibility, along with deportation. Polanski, who was, at the time, remaking “The Hurricane” for Dino De Laurent is Productions out of the country, chose to flee rather than endure more of the “toying” with him that he maintained the judge was doing. Before his troubles began, he was much sought after in the fast track of Hollywood society, and loved California, saying, “Everything is easy here (in Los Angeles). Everything is accessible in this town.” Everything except underage girls, apparently.

A distraught Polanski, speaking to the press after Sharon Tate’s massacre, called their time together, “The only time of true happiness in my life” and appeared about to break down in tears. A friend who was with him when he received the news of the killings on the phone from his agent Bill Tennent, reports, “I saw someone just disintegrate in front of my eyes. He was devastated.”

The documentary is definitely sympathetic to Polanski’s side. The question of whether the average male in America (of any ethnicity) would simply walk away with “probation” after giving drugs to an underage 13-year-old and having sex with her, if he weren’t rich and able to pay for the very best attorneys, is not addressed. The “double standard” between the European view of sex and America’s Puritanical view of sex is addressed peripherally. The verdict on whether a penalty greater than 42 days of being “evaluated” by a psychiatrist at Chino (California) is appropriate for the charges levied is still out.

Polanski’s friends from the swinging sixties before the murder of his wife appear to still be his friends, and his work such as “The Piano” produced after he fled the United States speaks to his continuing undiminished talent as a director

When the judge assigned to the case displays scrapbooks of his high-profile celebrity cases (the Presley divorce, Cary Grant), the public is right to wonder if this was the most famous judge fiasco since Judge Ito and the O.J. trial, decades later. However, the question still remains as to whether celebrities receive a special “pass” in court, when compared to the rank-and-file of Americans charged with the same crime.

These messages from Chicago, where the Blues Fest just concluded in Grant Park.
Things at the Blues Fest would have been a whole lot better if there had not been a full-out thunderstorm around 1:30 P.M. This turned the grass to mud and it was definitely shades of Woodstock.
Still, the headliner at 8:15 p.m. on the main stage was B.B. King, who, I was told, had not played the Blues Fest for some years. We heard him and then mucked out way back to my place, with completely dirty shoes and feet.

The other fun thing I did recently in Chicago was to attend Avenue Q for the second time. The first time, I saw the New York cast at the Wynn Casino in Las Vegas.

This time, the lead male part in Chicago was actually better than the New York lead, and all the other performers were just as good. This is a great show: fun, insightful, and delightful.

I’ll be letting you all in on the Field Museum’s new exhibit about natural weather forces, which features experiencing what it is like to stand in the path of a tornado, from a camera experienced same. Other natural disasters are also explored. The George Washington Carver exhibit remains on view through some time in July, and it is well worth the price of admission.

I was struck at what a big debt Carver owes to the state and colleges of Iowa (he was admitted to Ames, Iowa State University, and he later taught there). I was disappointed at the dragons exhibit, but the kids seemed to like it.

Attended Printers Row on Saturday. It is the largest book publishing event in the Midwest. Likewise, the Blues Fest is the largest free blues fest in the United States.

Stay tuned for further bulletins on what the newest Field Museum exhibit about natural disasters is like.

Actor Jeff Daniels, the actor we know from films like “Dumb and Dumber” and “The Purple Rose of Cairo,” traveled from the Upper Peninsula of Michigan to Rock Island, Illinois’ Circa Dinner Theater to play acoustic guitar and sing his own songs for a small but enthusiastic audience on Thursday, May 1^st. The performance was a fund-raiser for the small theater back home, dubbed the Purple Rose in honor of the Woody Allen film “The Purple Rose of Cairo” in which he starred.

Daniels is well-known from his roles in such films as “Dumb and Dumber,” “The Purple Rose of Cairo” and “The Squid and the Whale.” He’s made 45 films and will soon be heard as the voice of an animated character in “Space Chimps” (for which, he humorously remarked to the crowd, he had recently been offered…and turned down… a star on Hollywood’s Walk of Fame.)

To be honest, I didn’t expect much in the way of musical excellence when I decided to take a chance and attend the concert on a Thursday night. I just knew that Daniels is a very fine actor and seems to be a very “centered” regular guy, in appearances such as one he recently made on “David Letterman.” As the former “Times” movie critic and a bona fide movie fan, I went to see Jeff Bridges, the actor, and the fact that he was just as talented, musically, as he is gifted, dramatically, was the frosting on the cake.

I was unable to convince either my husband (who refused, outright, to go) or my friend (who voted for the Rolling Stones documentary “Shine A Light,” instead) to accompany me, so I went alone, entering after the performance had begun.

Daniels, clad in jeans, a rumpled flannel shirt and a battered brown hat, asked the crowd at the outset, “How many of you have no idea what I’m about to do?” I had a vague idea: he was going to sing songs he had written in an attempt to raise money for his Michigan Purple Rose Theatre through the $25.50 ticket price. You could also purchase either of his two CD’s, one of which, “Jeff Daniels Live and Unplugged To Benefit the Purple Rose Theatre” I bought. It is very good and the material is extremely clever.

It turned out that Jeff can both play and sing with proficiency and that his material is entertaining in the best sense of that word. When asked by David Burke of the Quad City Times about the difference between his movie career and his sidelight, singing, Daniels responded, “The thing about the singing that I enjoy a lot is that, especially when you’re writing, you’re in complete control of everything. It’s the exact opposite of the movie actor…It’s just that it’s (a movie) out of your control creatively. (Here) I’m the writer, I’m the director, I’m the editor, I’m the entertainer, I’m the performer, and all those people who I’ve been and am are out there with me…Plus, the fact that, with me, they (audiences) expect the worst. ‘Oh, yeah, another actor/singer/songwriter who sucks.’” (with sarcasm).

As it turns out, Daniels does not suck. His songs are clever slices of life, such as his song about actors who think they can sing, simply because they are actors, entitled “If William Shatner Can, I Can Too,” which mentions actor/singers ranging from Shatner to Russell Crowe to Adam Sandler. (Bruce Willis and Johnny Depp are not mentioned, but the Olson Twins are.)

Daniels is loose onstage, singing songs about the time he “accidentally” lost his wife, Kathy, at a truck stop in Erie, Pennsylvania, entitled “Recreational Vehicle,” and musing on the many common rites of passage in life, such as teaching his daughter to drive, his love affair with the Detroit Tigers baseball team and his first car (a blue Valiant) and/or growing old.

While in the Quad Cities, Daniels stopped at a local analog recording studio to record his song(s) “Are You As Excited About Me As I Am?” that reminded of the theme of Bruce Springsteen’s “Glory Days” and “The Dirty Harry Blues,” about playing the villain opposite Clint Eastwood’s good guy, in the film “Bloodwork.” Daniels said he was inspired to write the first song mentioned after walking the red carpet at an Awards night. Sample lyric(s): “I was everything to everyone, Just for a moment, I’m who I used to be. Shine like a diamond, bright as the sun, I used to be everything to everyone.”

His “Dirty Harry Blues” contained a killer impression of Eastwood calling him up on the phone and asking him to play the villain in “Bloodwork.” The denouement was his shooting death (in the film) at Eastwood’s hands, after his make-up girl told him, “It’s a good day to die.”

Daniels called to his “roadie” (his son) to help him involve audience members in performing what he dubbed “Doing the Big Bay Shuffle” and in playing a wooden train whistle on the song “I’m on a Detroit Train.” The audience gave Daniels several standing ovations and seemed to really enjoy his show, from start to finish.

Daniels mused about aging, saying, “You do have regrets when you’re 50. I’m 50 years old…I’m old. Not falling apart, just going downhill and every other week you’re updating your will.” He reminisced about hearing Mary Hart telling the world on Entertainment Weekly that he was fifty years old that day. Research into Ms. Hart’s birth date revealed that she was born November 8, 1950, making her a full 7 years older than Daniels…a fact he seemed to revel in discovering.

Daniels name-dropped a bit, but in a humble way. In addition to the Eastwood story, which never implied that he and Clint were good friends, Daniels told the story of working with stars like Eastwood and Jim Carrey with humility and mentioned the making of two Civil War films, “Gettysburg” and “Gods and Generals.” In describing Ted Turner, Daniels said, with affection, “If it’s on his mind, it’s out of his mouth,” and told the story of Turner coming up to him, onset, in full costume, saluting him (also in unform) and saying, “Colonel: hold at all costs.”

When the actor mentioned the offer of a star on Hollywood’s Walk of Fame (which Turner has been given), Daniels reminisced about seeing old-time movie stars Esther Williams and Margaret O’Brien that day, actresses who really represented their era of movie stars with class and glamour. They were there to meet and greet Turner (who was receiving his star) and told Daniels how grateful they were to Turner for his television movie channel. They said, “We get to see who we used to be.” Sad commentary on the fleeting nature of fame and “all that crap,” as Jeff Daniels referred to it. He seems very “grounded” about his Hollywood persona, unlike many others.

Jeff Daniels’ frequent references to his “twenty-eight foot Jayko” RV, his family, his home state of Michigan, his humble gratitude that his parents supported his acting aspirations, his interest in the great American pastime (i.e., baseball, specifically the Detroit Tigers) made him seem like the regular, ordinary guy next door.

Reviews in the next day’s paper locally were glowing, with Sean Leary of the (Moline, Illinois) Daily Dispatch suggesting that Daniels could be “the next Jimmy Buffett. Leary hailed Daniels’ performance as “loose and funny” and lauded the performer as “natural and humble.”

David Burke of the (Davenport, Iowa) Quad City Times told me that Jeff and his son (and his son’s two college-age friends) had driven all the way to Rock Island from Michigan in the aforementioned RV, and shared several heart-warming incidents from their interview, displaying as much awe at meeting Daniels as Daniels showed when he talked about the time he met George Harrison, (who signed his guitar.)

The suggestion was made that, if Daniels decides to make the trip this way again, the hall won’t be half empty as it was this night. Word travels fast in smaller towns, and the word on Jeff Daniels and his singing talent was all good.

One of my favorite parts of Martin Scorsese’s documentary film focusing on the Rolling Stones occurs before the music even starts. Mick Jagger calls up Scorsese to express his concern over the large tracking cameras that will be used (nearly 24 cameras were employed in the filming) and whether they will intrude on the audience’s appreciation of their benefit concert for Bill Clinton’s foundation at the Beacon Theater in New York.

Filmed in 2006, the small ornate venue offered a great deal more intimacy than the Stones’ stadium shows, which generally seat thousands. (The only small show I attended, the “No Security” tour, took place at the United Center in Chicago; my friend was hit in the head by a drumstick that Charlie Watts pitched into the crowd and still managed not to catch it! Charlie’s drumsticks, I can report, have his name burned into the side, so they would have made a great souvenir, but it was not to be, despite my friend’s goose-egg on her forehead. I remember saying, “Didn’t you ever play softball?”)

As a long-time Stones fan, I have seen them “live” on every tour since 1982. “Steel Wheels” was the best, when I saw them in Ames, Iowa. An absolutely awesome experience. That tour was followed by the “Voodoo Lounge” tour (Chicago), the “Bridges to Babylon” tour (2x, Ames and Minneapolis), a smaller more intimate show in Chicago at the United Center dubbed the “No Security” tour, and their most recent outing two times in Chicago, “A Bigger Bang.” [I will say that I have never been colder in my life than at the fall Soldier Field concert this last time. Elvis Costello opened for the Stones this last time ( opening acts I have seen include Lenny Kravitz, Blues Traveler, and the Goo Goo Dolls, among others.]

Scorsese is noticeably frazzled on film by the Stones’ failure to know exactly what the order of their set is going to be until the last minute. We see shots of Mick on an airplane, going over the set list and then shots of Scorsese being given a “late-breaking” bulletin of the order of the songs. He wants to know so he can have the right camera in the right place at the right time, but, like the rest of us, he is clueless until the concert actually begins.

Scorsese really gets in close on the band, wrinkles and all, with Oscar-winning cinematographer Robert Richardson (”The Aviator,” “J.F.K.”) overseeing a nineteen-person team boasting three multiple Oscar winners in addition to Albert Maysles. Albert Maysles and his brother, David, made the Stones’ tour documentary “Gimme Shelter” in 1969, which became famous for the Hell’s Angels incident (the Hell’s Angels were hired to provide “security”) that caused the death of an audience member.

The Stones perform 19 songs, delivering some seldom-performed gems like “She Was Hot,” “All Down the Line,” and a country-flavored “Loving Cup,” which was a duet with Jack White of the White Stripes. Jagger also brought out Christina Aguilera to duet with him on “Live With Me,” which involved a bumping and grinding dance, with Christina clad in what appeared to be black tights and a man’s shirt, wearing a black formal tux tie loosely draped around her neck, untied. Another guest performing onstage was Buddy Guy, blues icon from Chicago, who sang “Champagne & Reefer” with Mick.

My favorite parts of the IMAX film involved the old archival footage of the Stones being interviewed as young men just starting out in the business. Charlie Watts, now the white-haired grizzled drummer, talks in his salad days about how he would have liked to have been a painter, but didn’t have the vision, so he could only aspire to be a “designer” (if he hadn’t become a member of the band). I would have enjoyed three times the quantity of “clips” of the early Stones that Scorsese included, but he’s the Oscar-winning director, and I’m just an audience member who is fascinated by strolling down memory lane.( I couldn’t help but compare the scarcity of clips with a brilliant documentary on Freddie Mercury I saw at the Chicago Film Festival this past fall that had ten times the amount of personal clips.) I also enjoyed the classics included like “Brown Sugar,” “I Can’t Get No Satisfaction” (the Stones’ first Number One hit in this country back in 1965) and “Start Me Up.”

Also interesting was the appearance of the Clintons (yes, those Clintons), Bill, Hillary and Hillary’s mother, who came onstage before the show to introduce the Stones. Bill announced that, for his sixtieth birthday, he wanted to “open for the Stones” and, by introducing them, he got his wish. The Clintons had at least 30 family members and friends present in the lower balcony of the small theater. Since the “f” bomb was unleashed at least three or four times during the concert, and Mick’s dancing has always been suggestive, I couldn’t help but think that, —if the tables were turned, and Obama played as dirty as Hillary in her campaigning—-Obama would be mentioning the Clintons participation in the concert with a holier-than-thou attitude, tsk-tsking all the way to the polls. (It’s certainly what Hillary has done with the Reverend Wright and his Wrong-headed ranting.)

A friend of mine, with whom I play Trivia in Pub Quiz (a British chat room online) told a story of meeting Charlie Watts and his Mrs., along with Keith Richards and Ronnie Wood (and families) at a posh restaurant in London one night. He described Charlie Watts as being as nice as could be, and described Ronnie and Keith as “borrowing” the waiters’ jackets and passing a cheese tray, to the amusement of their party.

I still remember walking through what was then the Union’s “River Room” at the University of Iowa in 1963 and hearing “Hey, You! Get Offa’ My Cloud” blasting from an old style juke box with colored lights. The Stones signed with Decca Records that year, later touring the United Kingdom with the Everly Brothers and Bo Diddley. In 1964, the Stones released their first album, “England’s Newest Hit Makers.” They also toured the United States for the first time that year and appeared on the Ed Sullivan Show.

In 1971, Rolling Stones Records released the “Sticky Fingers” LP, with a cover design by Andy Warhol that is now iconic. The Stones received a Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award in 1986 and were inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1989. The “Bigger Bang” tour of 2005 grossed half a billion dollars, with paid attendance of 4.68 billion, according to George Varga’s “Mature Focus’” May issue (p.56), and I attended two of those “live” concerts.

During their long career, the Stones have undertaken some fantastic tours and released notable albums. In the sixties it was:” The Rolling Stones, Now!” followed by “Their Satanic Majesties Request,” Beggars Banquet,” “Let It Bleed.” In the seventies, with “Sticky Fingers” “Exile on Main Street” and “It’s Only Rock & Roll”, the Stones were still hot. The eighties brought us “Some Girls” (the Stones sang at least 3 of the songs from the album during the IMAX event), “Emotional Rescue,” “Tattoo You,” and “Still Life.”

The latest release from the Kings of Rock & Roll and the greatest arena band ever is the soundtrack to the film “Shine A Light,” (now showing at an IMAX Theater near you.) I admire the fact that Keith, Mick, Charlie and Ronnie ( assisted by the nine members in their touring ensemble group, such as Lisa Fisher of Brooklyn) have let it all hang out in the aging department. After seeing the horror-show that now is Kenny Rogers’ face, I appreciate the fact that the Stones still enjoy what they are doing, do it well, don’t seem to have lost a step, and are letting themselves mature naturally. When you see Mick Jagger doing his chicken-on-acid dancing, non-stop, while wearing a long blue-black coat that seems to have been made of ostrich feathers, never stopping to rest, it is difficult to believe that the man was 62 when this was filmed.

As for Martin Scorsese’s filming them onstage at the Beacon Theatre in 2006, who better than the man who was assistant director of the Oscar-winning documentary “Woodstock” forty years ago, and also directed “The Last Waltz,” the story of The Band’s 1976 all-star farewell performance?