JIM AUSTIN

Death and the movies

Before I unleash the sweet voice of reason on any controversial issues I have a warning and a recommendation to share.

The warning concerns paying good money to see the nationally acclaimed Kung Fu meets Peter Pan movie, "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon".

Even though I am not a big Kung Fu movie fan I was sucked in by the hype and the 4-star review of fat boy know-it-all Roger Ebert. I really blotted my copybook by talking my wife into coming with me.

After the movie, Ruth, my judgmental blossom, looked at me as if I had pushed her into a vat of boiling herpes virus.

Which I had. They ran up trees, climbed walls, spun and whirled and sliced and diced all the while bearing an inscrutable expression which said: "I could be bored or I could be menacing, you decide."

I know I'm a little late to save you money on this one but when it comes out in video next week, don't rent it.

Ebert, the idiot, panned "Hannibal", sequel to Academy Award winning movie "Silence of the Lambs."

Once again Ebert's opinion is wrong.

Hannibal was a delicious romp through the zany world of high-brow cannibalism. Anthony Hopkins' portrayal of archfiend Hannibal Lecter was stellar.

Only a brilliant actor could utter the phrase "Okey dokey" and have it so laden with terror that you almost pee your pants.

Jodie Foster, the Queen of Hollywood, was stupid to forgo this role. Her replacement, Julianne Moore, didn't try to be Foster. She soft-pedaled the role and left the meatiest moments to Hannibal.

I don't often notice the setting of movies but the scenes in Italy's dusty museums and ancient avenues were a perfect vehicle to showcase the enigmatic and hungry-genius Lecter.

Gary Oldman plays Lecter's hideously deformed nemesis Mason Verger. Understandably he carries a grudge against the naughty doctor who contrived to have him carve the skin off his face and feed it to the dog. Bad doggy. Great movie.

Back the real world which is often more bizarre than the movies.

Our Navy just can't seem to get it right can they?

Just in time for the opening of a movie on FX about the Navy's coverup of the explosion in the gun turret of the Iowa, a Navy sub off Hawaii surfaced into a Japanese fishing trawler, killing nine people.

Do they hold a contest to see how many marshmallows a naval officer can shove up his nose to decide who gets to be captain of these vessels?

In the past ten years I have noted boiler explosions, naval pilots dropping bombs on their own vessels, warships firing missiles on Turkish allies and Iranian passenger planes, mass sexual misconduct at a Tailhook gathering and God knows how many screwups that don't make the national news.

I wouldn't trust our Navy to defend us with rolled up newspapers, much less weapons of mass destruction.

I am saddened by the passing of Donella Meadows, whose columns appeared weekly in "The Reformer" for as long as I could remember. Her writing always tweaked the beaks of those whose interests were selfish and who didn't care about the Earth.

Most often her conclusions were incontrovertible because she did the research and quoted the numbers. It was left to her detractors to squeal about her liberal viewpoint and her unfair treatment of the money-pigs who regularly raped the environment. She always did it with class and good writing. No flaming metaphors or chest beating was necessary.

The planet will miss her.

Finally, it just seems weird to me that people use the death of a celebrity to pour their hearts out on TV, spend a fortune on memorabilia and publicly weep into the wreaths of grieving fans.

Princess Di was a spoiled rotten, very pretty woman and Dale Earnhardt was a talented NASCAR driver known for his dirty tactics.

Why do people who have never met them feel such an awesome sense of loss. I really don't remember anything approaching this level of public grief when Mother Theresa died.

One talk show guy related a story about the god-like nature of Dale Earnhardt who signed his hat and gave it to a woman who was eight months pregnant and had been standing in line for two hours for his autograph.

Isn't the real question why would this woman risk her health to get a scribble from a guy who drives fast?

I wish I could leave you with a universal truth about human nature here but I must admit to being stumped by this behavior.

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