In the final analysis, the "Seinfeld" reunion finale on HBO's "Curb Your Enthusiasm" was less than advertised -- a recurring side plot, really, in the Larry David character's season-long scheme to win back his wife, played by Cheryl Hines.

Then again, turning the central "Seinfeld" quartet into expensive props dovetails nicely with the meta nature of "Curb," which is all about utter self-absorption. Sure, there was the supposed "Seinfeld" reunion special within "Curb's" penultimate episode and season finale, but those scenes ultimately proved little more than a garnish to the win-back-Cheryl bid. And seriously, if a thread about George losing all his money to Bernie Madoff is the best David has to offer in adding to the original show's legacy, then he really has screwed up another "Seinfeld" finale.

Having said that (hee hee), simply seeing David and Jerry Seinfeld banter back and forth did offer some insight into the alchemy behind "Seinfeld's" success. And there was something deliciously perverse about local HBO spots for "Curb" running during NBC's current Thursday comedy block -- an adding-insult-to-injury scenario for the Peacock network if there ever was one, calling back as it did to significantly better times.

Perhaps the best thing about Sunday's "Curb" (modest spoiler alert) was that David danced up to the precipice of sentimentality and then quickly dialed it back -- reminding us that living with someone as quirky and self-obsessed as the fictional version of himself can never be much of a picnic. This was hardly the best season of "Curb" on record, and it wasn't even the best hour of television on Sunday night. That distinction belonged to "Dexter," which may have permanently rewritten the books and reset the bar for special Thanksgiving-themed episodes.

Still, all told it was kind of nice seeing the "Seinfeld" gang back together again, and yada yada yada, "Curb's" long-deferred return was pretty (but only pretty) good.

"Curb Your Enthusiasm's" non-reunion "Seinfeld" reunion must be an extremely odd and frustrating meta-moment for the folks over at NBC.

The latest "Curb" featured the "Seinfeld" cast playing out fictional scenes from the fictional special that could really help the not-so-fictional network on which it's fictionally supposed to air.

Nearly all of the "Seinfeld" zoo, including many supporting players, popped in during the extended episode, which also incorporated a riotous riff on Michael Richards' notorious outburst at African-American hecklers during a comedy club appearance a few years ago. That, and another subplot that played off a misunderstanding regarding pedophilia, should be a reminder to everyone (are you listening, Catholic League?) that "Curb" is a series that doesn't recognize the existence of sacred cows.

The really strange part, though, was that the bogus reunion special looked like it would potentially be a big ratings draw for NBC -- it's certainly a link to happy days at the network, back when "Seinfeld" reigned supreme in the 1990s -- given all the hoopla that would have surrounded such an event. Instead, a fictional network suit is watching the run-throughs rubbing his grubby little hands together.

The next episode marks "Curb's" season finale, and the teaser suggested more of the reunion -- including a lot of squabbling about whether this was a chance to do a proper finale after "Seinfeld" screwed up its farewell episode and left a lot of fans grumbling, a la "The Sopranos."

It's nice to see that David and company can still laugh at themselves. Yet if I was at NBC right now, seeing them trip down memory lane on HBO might be a little too painful to watch.

Television has an odd preoccupation with commemorating anniversaries, so that horrific events are now revisited with the same annual frequency as holiday specials and parades.

Discovery, for example, has another pair of JFK assassination specs lined up for Nov. 22 -- the 46th anniversary -- just as each Sept. 11 brings a new wave of fresh and not-so-fresh memorials.

November also marks the one-year anniversary of the terror attacks in Mumbai, which has spawned a pair of specials this month: HBO's "Terror in Mumbai," which airs Nov. 19; and PBS's "Secrets of the Dead: Mumbai Massacre," on Nov. 25.

Both run an hour, but the HBO spec is by far the superior of the two. The pay channel's account is both harrowing and enlightening, using video and intercepted cellphone calls to recreate much of what transpired, and featuring an interview with the surviving gunman.

In the calls, you hear the terror plotters coaxing their flunkies to murder innocents, even as the young men carrying out these violent acts marvel at the opulence of the hotels they're occupying. As Newsweek columnist and CNN host Fareed Zakaria notes in narrating the program, the ruthlessness that's displayed can easily obscure the complexity of the problem, beginning with what motivates an enemy to execute suicide missions in the name of their "cause."

That sense of alienation -- and the exploitation of it in an effort to justify mass murder -- seems especially timely as pundits sift through the evidence in the military base killings in Fort Hood, Tex., ascertaining to what extent religious extremism motivated accused killer Nidal Malik Hasan.

Directed by Dan Reed (who also did the earlier "Terror in Moscow"), HBO's "Mumbai" doc is an unflinching and depressing look at what transpired. Nevertheless, "Terror in Mumbai" largely achieves its objective -- putting a face on the perpetrators as well as their victims. Neither of these projects is a picnic to watch, but if you only have the stomach for one hour devoted to these grisly events, HBO's is definitely the one.

Variety has already reviewed HBO's "By the People: The Election of Barack Obama," which premieres on the pay channel on Nov. 3. So rather than a full review, here's my two cents on a few specific aspects of the documentary.

Although the access to Obama, his family and key aides like David Axelrod and Robert Gibbs is a centerpiece of the project, the most emotional moments come from less-identifiable campaign staffers, such as Ronnie Cho, an Iowa organizer with his own remarkable story about how his parents immigrated to the U.S. from Korea. His tearful phone calls to his mother provide lump-in-the-throat moments.

More than anything, though -- and I'm sure much of this will be lost on those who vigorously oppose Obama and his policies -- the take-away from "By the People" is the steadiness that Obama brought to the up-and-down campaign roller coaster by virtue of his personality. Through Amy Rice and Alicia Sams' ever-present cameras, we see him respond to the wins and losses, to the debate prep sessions and the controversy over Rev. Jeremiah Wright, with the same calm demeanor. Only when he speaks after the death of his grandmother does the candidate betray much in the way of emotion, and that's captured in one almost too-perfect tear that rolls down his cheek as he addresses a crowd.

This personality represents a big reason why Obama's harshest critics often sound slightly unhinged. The image they portray of a "radical" simply doesn't dovetail with what the actual man projects in front of the camera -- which, of course, in today's day and age, is how we get to know our candidates. (For more on that, see Barry Levinson's "Poliwood," which I've reviewed here, premiering Nov. 2 on Showtime.)

In some respects, Obama's skills as a politician and coolness under fire have been as much of an irritant to supporters -- who would love to see more flashes of passion and anger from him -- as opponents. But unless his acting skills equal his oratorical ones, that's simply not who he is.

Conservatives will be quick to dismiss "By the People" as mere left-leaning propaganda, and it's clear the filmmakers were enamored with their subject. Nevertheless, the documentary not only captures a historic moment but actually proves educational -- exposing the key qualities that helped a first-term senator make the improbable leap to the Oval Office.

Out-frigging-standing: Harvard will add a course that uses HBO's "The Wire" to explore inner-city poverty and urban issues. Thanks to tvtattle.com for finding the Harvard Crimson link.

The David Simon-produced series has rightfully been referred to as the great American novel for television, and certainly one of the best TV programs ever made, exploring the vicious cycle of poverty and drugs through law enforcement, city hall, the declining middle class and the media.

Here's the money quote from the Crimson article:

 “‘The Wire’ has done more to enhance our understanding of the systemic urban inequality that constrains the lives of the poor than any published study,” Sociology Professor William J. Wilson said.

And just think, kids: You pay all that money to attend Harvard ... and get to watch TV.

 

Well, that took longer than I expected.

Watching "Curb Your Enthusiasm" on Sunday -- in which Larry David inadvertently splashes urine onto a picture of Jesus, causing the house's owners to think they're experiencing a miracle -- I thought to myself, "The Catholic League is going to love that."

As if on cue (although the hubbub surfaced a day or two later than I envisioned), Fox News reports that the Catholic League and another website have taken umbrage over the gag, which was unfortunately the funniest bit in an otherwise decidedly subpar episode.

Given that "Curb" prides itself on irreverence -- and as an HBO series, doesn't have to worry about advertisers -- this is the proverbial tempest in a teapot. Nevertheless, I feel obligated to quibble with Fox's headline -- and the one above the Catholic League's statement about the scene -- that says David "urinates on Jesus painting" or was "urinating on Jesus." This implies that David's transgression was a conscious act, when he actually sprays a drip of urine onto the painting accidentally. Something about a new medication, tying in with David's ongoing obsessions about A) having to go to the bathroom outside his home and B) the indignities associated with aging.

However crude the joke might be, there is a legitimate distinction there -- and the satire is really at the expense of people who see "miracles" behind every dew-drop that appears on a rendering of Jesus. Not that it will mean much to the League's Bill Donohue and those in the full-time indignation business.

In an age of so much conspicuous certainty, there's something to be said for a documentary that inspires powerful feelings of ambivalence. So it is with "Outrage," which was previously reviewed by Variety (and discussed by my colleague Ted Johnson on his "Wilshire & Washington" blog) at the Tribeca Film Festival but premieres Oct. 5 on HBO.

Written and directed by Kirby Dick, "Outrage" made news by naming names of Republican politicians and operatives who are closeted gays, many of whom have inveighed or voted against gay rights. There is, of course, a clear element of hypocrisy in this, but I'd still stop short of activist Michael Rogers' contention that these figures represent "traitors to their people" who must be exposed. However offensive their hypocrisy might be, there's something troubling about using outing as a form of political retaliation against those who don't adhere to the gay-rights platform.

As "Outrage" demonstrates (the subtitle is "Do Ask. Do Tell"), the GOP has also cynically used gay-bashing as a political tool, which makes the participation of gays in those efforts particularly galling. In addition, prominent Republican officials have seen their careers stall because of whispering campaigns about their sexuality, usually hiding behind code words about them being "too moderate."

Still, the forced collision of private and public lives is distasteful, and one suspects an already-debased political climate won't exactly be elevated by spending even more time obsessing over who politicians are screwing in the literal sense -- whether that's "family values" senators on the right, or Bill Clinton and John Edwards on the left. Nor it it clear, as activists maintain throughout the film, that mainstream news outlets -- faced as they are with dwindling resources -- are somehow abdicating their journalistic responsibility by failing to go sniffing around politicians' closets.

For all that, "Outrage" talks to all the right people and Dick methodically builds his case, beginning with Sen. Larry Craig's arrest in a Minneapolis bathroom and concluding with a 30-year-old clip of the late Harvey Milk, in which he argues that coming out is a vital step on the road to gay rights and equality.

Even if you don't agree with the tactics, "Outrage" deserves to be seen, discussed and debated. Bigotry against gays -- much of it rooted in religion, but also predicated in part on obvious political calculus -- is ugly; the pertinent question is whether that justifies outing as a response.

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On a separate gay-progress front, the Gay & Lesbian Alliance Against Defamationissued a somewhat misleading annual scorecard on representations of the lesbian-gay-bisexual-transgender community for the 2009-10 TV season, under the heading "Where We Are on TV." The detailed report can be found on GLAAD's website.

"Misleading" because the focus is strictly limited to scripted programming, which conspicuously omits the heightened presence of gays in primetime thanks to reality TV. Hell, half of Bravo is seemingly devoted to gay characters, albeit in the unscripted realm.

In addition, simple numerical counts aren't always completely illustrative of the bigger picture -- namely, the quality of the characterizations. Those include some promising additions this season, from the gay couple on ABC's "Modern Family" to the teen dealing with coming out to his peers and family on Fox's "Glee." How those programs will unfold remains to be seen.

As is, the study finds slight increases in LGBT characters among series regulars overall, accounting for 3% of characters on the broadcast networks. Depictions on cable declined -- again, based solely on scripted fare, though that reduced presence appears to be accounted for almost entirely by the departure of Showtime's "The L Word."

Networks do all kinds of things now to try and prevent people from selling DVD screeners on eBay. ABC, much to the chagrin of critics, only makes its programs available online, meaning you get to see a big lavish pilot like "Eastwick" on a 15-inch computer monitor, not a 46-inch flat screen, like God intended.

HBO took to imprinting codes on the discs, so they're in the corner of every frame. Sometimes they use initials, meaning there's a "BL" etched in, which always reminds me of "The Odd Couple" line where Oscar says that it took him awhile to figure out that "FU" meant "Felix Unger."

"Mad Men" now has a numerical code that pops in and out. It's less intrusive, but still slightly distracting -- though admittedly, that's a small price to pay for getting to see those episodes before the rest of the unwashed masses.

Fox puts a disclaimer on the front of its DVDs, telling us that piracy hurts everybody and that if we don't abide by the rules, the network won't be able to supply us with advance screeners. I know, there are a lot of sleazeballs out there that have violated these guidelines, but still, there's nothing like a relationship predicated on trust.

So I was amused to see the following warning on the latest screener that came from Comedy Central: "Don't even think about posting, swapping or putting this up for sale to the highest bidder or karma, not to mention the FBI, may come and get you."

I only wish more of their shows were that clever.

For years, the Academy of Television Arts & Sciences has waged an internal battle to determine the direction of the Emmy Awards: Are they a showcase to honor excellence -- that is, the best in television -- or an annual TV special that will generate a big license fee and fund ambitious academy-sponsored activities?

The decision to "time-shift" eight of the 28 awards handed out on Emmy night -- prerecording those award presentations in order to squeeze an extra 15 minutes out of the broadcast and pay homage to more popular (if potentially less excellent) programs -- makes clear which side won.

To be fair, the academy, CBS and producer Don Mischer were seeking a compromise, and on paper it's a fairly artful solution. But like many compromises, while it was enough to pass muster with the organization's board, it's unlikely to please everyone.

Unlike the Oscars, the TV academy doesn't control the production of its own show. They have licensed the rights to the four major networks, who share the awards on a rotating basis and, frankly, have largely fallen out of Emmy contention for many of the highest-profile awards.

Said broadcast networks want to put on a show that will generate high ratings and make them some money. And they're convinced (self-servingly, but not necessarily inaccurately) that recognizing programs like AMC's "Mad Men," HBO's "John Adams" or Showtime's "Dexter" evokes a big "Huh?" response among too much of the audience to fulfill that objective.

The Oscars -- faced with a similar dilemma, as little-seen indie films piled up award bids -- announced that they would expand the best-picture roster to 10 nominees. The Emmys came pretty close to that, upping the best drama and comedy list, with seven contenders in each category based on the latest voting. But that still wasn't enough.

As the host network, CBS was all for cutting back on time allotted to categories that don't feature recognizable stars. After all, the Tonys and Grammys both performed better ratings-wise this year, and each of those academy-backed exercises have reduced the number of on-air award presentations. Why should the Emmys be immune?

Besides, the networks are tired of watching HBO talent keep parading up to the podium. Last year's Emmy ratings were a disappointment. What better excuse to give the heave-ho to some TV movie categories (where HBO -- yet again -- nabbed the lion's share of nods), outstanding miniseries, and maybe even writing for a drama, where "Mad Men" garnered four of the five nominations. (For the record, "Lost" rounded out the category.)

But the academy also knows that this policy shift will not sit well with prominent members of the TV community, which is why the organization has at best been coy about its plans since a preliminary vote to amend the awards in February.

Based on reaction to Thursday's announcement, the roster of aggrieved parties begins with writer-producers, who are television's top dogs. The Writers Guild of America West made clear that it's not happy about the move, saying, "Last year's Emmys suffered a tremendous decline in quality and ratings because of a lack of scripted material. That the Academy would then decide to devalue the primary and seminal role that writing plays in television is ridiculous and self-defeating."

Asked how writers would feel about the news, one showrunner -- alluding to some of the sensitivity that surfaced during last year's writers strike -- said wryly, "As you may have noticed, writers are a little touchy on this respect issue."

Altering the Emmy format might help improve ratings, which would make the networks happy -- and assist the academy in negotiating a more lucrative license fee after its current contract expires in 2010. But it is sure to alienate those who see the Emmys as a rare oasis devoted to lauding excellence, amid a TV landscape where commercial considerations can often be downright cruel to quality programming.

In this decades-old struggle, something eventually had to give -- a little like the psychological war between Norman Bates and his mother. Just don't expect the combatants on the short end of this existential struggle to sit there, quietly, like they wouldn't hurt a fly.

Some more random Comic-Con notes:

- That ka-ching sound you here is HBO's marketing machinery, with the pay service's announcement that it will be marketing a blood-orange soda drink tying in with vampire drama "True Blood," modeled after the synthetic blood served in the show.

Exec producer Alan Ball coyly described the concoction as a mixture of vodka, Viagra, Vicodin and the blood of European royalty. Actually, I'm pretty sure that's close to the age-defying stuff that Sumner Redstone drinks.

The other revelation out of the "True Blood" panel -- aside from the fact that a season three pickup of the sophomore hit is virtually assured but not final -- is that Alexander Skarsgard has a huge cult following out there, as women howled at every mention of his name. I know Skarsgard didn't land the lead role in Marvel's "Thor" movie, but the "Generation Kill" star's future seems extremely bright.

Also, one more vampire-themed note: Among the promotional materials being handed out near the convention was a flier for Vampire-con, a gathering devoted to vampires scheduled to take place in Los Angeles on Aug. 16, complete with a vampire movie festival Aug. 14-15 at the New Beverly Cinema. Mostly, it's another cynical ploy to separate the loopy vampire-obsessed demographic (and in some cases their parents) from their hard-earned money. Meanwhile, many of them might want to read an upcoming Scholastic book that speaks to their condition, titled, "The Vampire is Not That Into You."

- It takes a lot to offend my delicate sensibilities, but former "Star Wars" star Mark Hamill charging $100 an autograph comes pretty close. OK, so people were still lined up at that price, but based on that math, what should a Harrison Ford autograph be worth?

By the way, the autograph pavilion was a veritable who's who of '60s, '70s and '80s stars, including Adam West, Gil Gerard, Richard Hatch and Margot Kidder.

- More bad news for nerds: Jimmy Fallon was at Comic-Con, doubtless preparing a taped piece spoofing the convention-goers. Of course, it’ll have to go a long way to approach the comic genius of Triumph the Insult Comic Dog ridiculing those waiting in line for the new “Star Wars” series, but it’s such a big fat ripe target it’s hard to fault the “Late Night” producers for diving in as well.

In the wake of "Entourage" producer Doug Ellin's recent interview with the Hollywood Reporter -- in which he refers to his "very contentious relationship with (Variety TV critic) Brian Lowry" and admits to having become "a little psychotically obsessed" with the paper, I thought it might actually be illustrative to recap my critical history with the series.

As Ellin states, I wasn't particularly kind to "Entourage" when the show made its debut, thinking the inch-deep premise was a missed opportunity. (My former colleague Phil Gallo actually coined a line that I really liked, saying the show's formula was "No sleepovers, no hangovers," meaning there were no real complications as these guys sauntered through life.)

Clearly irritated by the lack of adulation from an industry paper about his industry-centric show, Ellin wrote an episode where the Johnny Drama character (played by Kevin Dillon) bursts into the Variety office and tells the TV critic to screw off. As I recall, the script described "Brian Lowry" as a squirrelly little man in his 40s, though Ellin subsequently changed the name to "Paul Schneider," after a friend of his.

They shot the sequence in the old Variety office, and I remember thinking (and writing) at the time that fake Variety was younger, more ethnically diverse, better dressed, and much, much better looking than real Variety. I liked fake Variety, though I'm not sure I'd have gotten much work done there.

My view of the show, meanwhile, evolved as the series got better, richer, more intricate. There were suddenly serialized arcs to the season -- such as Vince doing the "Aquaman" movie -- that raised the stakes beyond just who he was going to sleep with that week. In my third season review, I noted, "Our little 'Entourage' has grown up." Last September, I was even more effusive, saying the show had found its "A" game as the Vince character (Adrian Grenier) dealt with the fallout from his disastrous star turn in "Medellin." Moreover, some of the art-imitates-life flourishes surrounding the series -- like the Variety ad touting the record-breaking boxoffice performance by the fictional James Cameron-directed "Aquaman" -- have been sheer genius.

To me, though, the most interesting aspect of all this is that Ellin himself -- during interviews, as well as a panel that I moderated at the TV academy -- acknowledged that he felt his grasp of the show had improved considerably after the initial year or two. "The first season I had really no idea what I was doing," he told the crowd at a Paley Center event, adding that the more elaborate arcs only came together as he gained a better handle on the show.

Which, if you think about it, sounds a whole lot like what I was saying.

Now, I point this out not to pat myself on the back, but to demonstrate that producers often lack (and perhaps shouldn't be expected to have) much perspective about their own work. This isn't the first time I've had producers who were pissed about a negative review say later -- with the benefit of hindsight -- that they weren't satisfied with the show themselves when the review ran. They just didn't like seeing it in print, especially in what they consider a home-town paper.

Some of the responses, by the way, can be quite funny, and the web has given producers a way to jab back -- frequently through private emails, but occasionally with public rejoinders. Take "Sons of Anarchy" creator Kurt Sutter, who used his blog to critique the critics, saying that my appraisal of his leading man sounded like I was working out "'pudgy yearbook committee nerd hates the good-looking quarterback' shit through a review." That would be "pudgy high school newspaper critic," actually, but let's not split hairs.

In other words, it's not particularly unusual for creative talent or executives to take criticism personally and become a little "psychotically obsessed." Ellin, for example, refers to a "contentious relationship," when in fact there's really no relationship to speak of, other than saying hello at a few HBO parties. For the record, he's always seemed like a perfectly nice guy. I just happened not to like his show much initially, and then started to enjoy it more. The same dynamic -- never personal -- would apply to any number of executives who have at various times accused me of vendettas, only to be surprised (pleasantly, I assume) when I raved about one of their projects -- responding, as any critic should, to the specific merits of the material, not those responsible for it. Bad reviews are fun to write, but watch enough TV and trust me, you're rooting for programs to be good, not bad.

So where does this "relationship" stand? After an advanced viewing of this season's first two episodes starting with Sunday's debut, I was disappointed with the latest direction of "Entourage," which doesn't seem to possess the heft that the show has delivered in recent years to augment its always impeccable inside-Hollywood touches. Still, I'll continue watching -- and not just because you can find Ellin pictured with Variety's Peter Bart on Cynthia Littleton's blog -- since the show goes down pretty easy even when it's not at its best.

So in a way, the arc here has been as follows: Show and TV critic don't get along; show bashes critic; critic falls for show; show loses critic again.

If you've seen enough romantic comedies, it's pretty clear that this would be heading toward a big mushy reunion. Let's just hope the rest of the season brings about that happy ending.

The Senate held a "The Future of Journalism" hearing this week, and I finally caught up with the testimony of David Simon, the former Baltimore Sun reporter who parlayed that experience into "Homicide" and "The Wire," then recently followed it up by producing the splendid HBO Iraq miniseries "Generation Kill."

For the complete document, here's a link, by way of Jim Romenesko's Poynter site. But the key passages include Simon's observation that because newspapers can't monetize the Internet sites that are aggregating their content, "the parasite is killing the host;" and that the industry's demise began out of greed and mismanagement "long before the threat of new technology was ever sensed."

Simon left the Sun in the mid-1990s, right when I was starting at another Tribune newspaper, the Los Angeles Times. And with the benefit of hindsight, I think he's right about almost everything -- including the pervasive effects of a "prize culture" that he documented in the final season of "The Wire," where editors push Pulitzer-bait projects at the expense of the nuts-and-bolts reporting that actually serves their local community.

As for greed, Tribune got into the layoffs-in-pursuit-of-bigger-margins business long before the Internet began leeching away profits. Indeed, I was hired there to fill a vacancy left after job cuts and a hiring freeze imposed about a year before I started in '96.

Simon closed his testimony by outlining several proposals to help "save" newspapers, which mostly boil down to providing antitrust protection that would allow them to collude on a system to charge for online content; and facilitating the shift to non-profit status. Both sound like reasonable ideas to me, though I confess to some skepticism about either gaining much traction. For starters, too many on the right are delighting in the financial woes assailing what they deride as the "mainstream media" (see Jeff Jacoby's Boston Globe column on the misguided gloating) to let such measures to move forward without turning it into a political circus.

Meanwhile, Simon is moving ahead with his next HBO series, "Treme," about the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans. Based on his Senate testimony, it's an appropriate choice, because the guy knows a thing or two about how to clean up a complete mess.

 

Perhaps it's because I write about pop culture and throw in lots of gratuitous references to politics, but I can't help but marvel at the way that New York Times columnists Maureen Dowd and Frank Rich veer out of their lanes to incorporate references to pop culture.

Rich generally does a pretty good job of weaving these thoughts into his general thesis, as he did in Sunday's column, which included this brief explanation about differences in how the public views the Big Three auto makers and Wall Street: "Perhaps we’re tempted to give Detroit a pass because it still summons nostalgic memories of 'American Graffiti,' 'Little Deuce Coupe' and certain things we used to do in the back seat of a Chevy. Wall Street and bankers are the un-aphrodisiac: 'Bonfire of the Vanities,' Old Man Potter of 'It’s a Wonderful Life' and, of course, Gordon Gekko of Oliver Stone’s 'Wall Street.'"

For her part, Dowd's TV and movie asides increasingly seem to come out of left field, as if she feels strangely compelled to remind us that she consumes a lot of both. So in the midst of a column about Barack Obama's trip to Europe and the deft way in which he managed world leaders, we get this doozy: "Gabriel Byrne’s brooding psychoanalyst on 'In Treatment' might envy Barack Obama’s calming psychoanalysis in Europe." (Then again, the attention showered on "In Treatment's" season premiere relative to its audience size -- with sizable spreads in both the L.A. and New York Times in addition to lengthy reviews -- suggests that coastal journalists spend more time on the couch than the average reader does, in addition to spending a disproportionate amount of time with HBO.)

Actually, I think both columnists aren't just showing off but probably reflect a pretty accurate perception of the way that their readers -- even the affluent and educated ones that subscribe to the Times -- filter their view of the world. Sure, you can cite some book or essay, but odds are they're more familiar with "The Real Housewives of New York."

In other words, even with the Times audience, people might have heard of the book, but there's a better chance that they saw the movie.

Lifetime and HBO don't have that much in common, but they offer respective programs over the next week that dovetail rather nicely.

First, Lifetime airs the terrific TV movie "Prayers for Bobby" on Jan. 24 (click here for my earlier review), a fact-based story that stars Sigourney Weaver as the bible-thumping mother of a gay teenager who eventually commits suicide, forcing mom to come to grips with her beliefs. HBO, meanwhile, follows Jan. 29 with Alexandra Pelosi's latest documentary, "The Trials of Ted Haggard," about the fallen Colorado pastor, who was forced to resign from his mega-church after admitting to buying methamphetamines and sexual favors from a gay prostitute.

Haggard's unwillingness to acknowledge the obvious -- that he might be gay and repressed his true nature -- fosters interesting parallels with "Bobby," especially since the movie begins in 1979, with the character of Bobby as a confused teenager. Haggard, 52, would have been in his early 20s at the same time.

Pelosi is clearly fond of Haggard, and his plight stands on its own. Still, the documentary takes on a more sobering tone in the context of all the Bobbys there have been over the last three decades -- and all the suffering they have experienced due to religious intolerance.