“‘Mitt does not express great love, and he does not express hate,’ said one Republican strategist who knows him well. ‘Ledger sheets don’t hate.'” — from Maureen Dowd‘s 10.20 N.Y. Times column, titled “Pampered Princes Fling Gorilla Dust.”

Yesterday HE reader Markus Ponto claimed that James Stewart‘s suit in Vertigo “was NEVER brown….it was always brownish violet or brownish purple.” This shot was directly scanned from a 1958 dye transfer print with zero color correction. You can’t really savor the true color of any fabric unless you see it in sunlight, but I can discern no eggplant/aubergine tint of any kind.

The brown suit that launched a thousand ships.

Ponto allowed that while Stewart’s suit is not brown, his hat is. Got that, film students? Celebrated wardrobe person Edith Head, who always knew exactly what she wanted, decided that Stewart’s hat should very faintly clash with the suit. Costumer: “But Miss Head, I can make an aubergine-tinted brown hat as well…really, it’s not a problem.” Head: “You’re not listening, Paul. I want audiences to feel off-balance while watching this film, and one of the ways I’ve decided to implement this feeling is to make sure that the brown hat slightly disagrees with the suit.”

My first reaction to the death of George McGovern, 90, was “this was a good and principled man of honor, rock solid to the end.” Then I recalled how McGovern was always great in front of a mike — he always had his facts down and his patter was always sharp. Then I remembered the comfort after briefly chatting with him in ’05 when he attended a Laemmle’s Music Hall screening of Stephen Vittoria‘s One Bright Shining Moment: The Forgotten Summer of George McGovern.

McGovern, then 83, “seemed to be in excellent health — tanned, trim — and he told the crowd he wants to live to be at least 100,” I wrote. “He needs that much time, he said, to accomplish all his goals, which include doing what he can to eliminate hunger in third-world countries.”

Here’s the piece in its entirety:

Every now and then you need to take a break from all the Hollywood crap, and I got a really nice one last Saturday from an encounter with former U.S. Senator and 1972 Democratic Presidential candidate George McGovern. In so doing I felt an emotion that I haven’t had much contact with lately. I felt a kind of familial love.

The occasion was an early-Saturday-evening showing at Laemmle’s Music Hall of Stephen Vittoria‘s One Bright Shining Moment: The Forgotten Summer of George McGovern, which I’ve been trying to catch since last July or so, when I happened to see a poster for it in the lobby of Manhattan’s Quad Cinema.

I’ve always admired McGovern, the longtime South Dakota liberal who’s mainly known for his honorable but catastrophic run against President Richard Nixon. Hurt by a campaign that was chaotically managed and also unlucky, McGovern got less than 40% of the vote and took only two states, Massachusetts and the District of Columbia.

Stephen Vittoria, director of One Brief Shining Moment, and George McGovern in lobby of Laemmle’s Music Hall — Saturday, 11.19, 8:23 pm.

I’ve long respected McGovern for having theoretically guided the last plain-spoken, genuinely liberal Democratic Presidential campaign. But my affection has mainly been about a long-held feeling that profound currents of decency and compassion run within him.

It sure felt that way as he spoke to a middle-aged crowd that had just seen Vittoria’s film around 7:30 pm, and later as he posed for photos and signed autographs and whatnot in front of the theatre on Wilshire Blvd.

He’s been the World Food Program’s first global ambassador on hunger since ’01, and before that served as U.S. ambassador to the U.N. Food and Agriculture Agencies, based in Rome, Italy, from ’98 to ’01.

He said that his favorite line in Vittoria’s doc is when Gloria Steinem says that looking back on the ’72 campaign, the McGovern loyalists have a lot more to be proud of than do the supporters of Nixon’s campaign, who have all that Watergate-related skullduggery to contend with.

Salon‘s Andrew O’Hehir recently wrote than “when the long lens of history finally focuses on McGovern’s contentious era, he’ll appear in the main text, named as a prophet, while Nixon will be a twisted king consigned to the footnotes.”

But when asked last Saturday evening what he thinks about the George Bush, McGovern said he’d rather have Nixon there.

Nixon, he pointed out, was fairly practical and forward-thinking on domestic issues and the economy. He created the Environmental Protection Agency, advocated gun control, imposed wage and price controls, and believed in a federal health-care system. And he wasn’t indebted to the neocons and their absolutist agendas.

The talking heads in One Bright Shining Moment include McGovern, Steinem, Gore Vidal, Warren Beatty, Howard Zinn, Dick Gregory, Gary Hart, Frank Mankiewicz, Jim Bouton, Rev. Malcolm Boyd and Ron Kovic.

Vittoria’s film is, for my money, a little too admiring, strident and one-sided. I wish he’d talked to some conservatives and maybe even a former enemy or two. It would have given the film some added intrigue without compromising McGovern’s image.

Some liberals still flinch at the memory of the ’72 campaign, but when a man has lasted as long as McGovern has and consistently stood for caring and compassion in public affairs, what’s not to admire? We’re speaking of one of the most steadily principled men to succeed in big-time politics in the 20th Century.

McGovern and admirers on sidewalk in front of Laemmle’s Music Hall on Wilshire near Doheny — Saturday, 11.19, 8:25 pm.

The Village Voice‘s Michael Atkinson has complained that Vittoria’s doc is filled with “exactly the sort of starry-eyed, bullet-spraying hyperbole that drains credibility from any brand of political discourse,” adding that it “may be useful as home-front history, if only it didn’t rant, yowl, and wet its pants so much.”

Still, it’s a good thing to have a film out there that doesn’t just train your attention on who George McGovern really is and was, and what his campaign was all about, but which pays the proper respect.”

If only the yahoos had the wisdom to elect McGovern instead of Nixon 40 years ago. In a pig’s eye.

For a politically-themed issue of DGA Quarterly, TheWrap‘s Steve Pond sat down with Jay Roach, director of Game Change and Recount, for an in-depth discussion of Elia Kazan‘s A Face in The Crowd (’57), one of the most politically and culturally prescient films of all time.

“This movie, to me, was extremely influential in showing how somebody like Sarah Palin captures [hinterland] adulation,” Roach says. “It really takes that notion of populism as a superpower, and turns it into a pretty strong indictment of the gullibility of the population to be won over by the anti-intellectual and anti-elitist.

“It’s a satiric statement about our desire, especially in chaotic times, for a charismatic person to step up and become someone onto whom we can project all our hopes and dreams. And then that person is bound to be caught up in the glow of affirmation, so you get a kind of co-dependent relationship between the needy audience and the person who will happily keep taking all that adulation.”

The 2012 upside is that Sarah Palin is writing a fitness book, which is a fairly bald admission that she’s completely discredited herself as a political figure and is all but totally over in terms of any ability to swing votes.

Speaking as one who sometimes shares misanthropic feelings when indications arise of the intelligence and awareness levels of too many average Americans, it is comforting to note that others park their cars in this garage.

Here’s an mp3 of this afternoon’s Flight press conference, which began at 2 pm at the Beverly Hills Montage hotel. The participants were (seated left to right) costars Bruce Greenwood, Kelly Reilly, screenwriter John Gatins, stars Denzel Washington, director Robert Zemeckis, costars Melissa Leo and John Goodman. Photos of the Flight crew weren’t allowed so I took this shot of the floor and my right foot.

I’ll run my review of Flight sometime tomorrow. I’ve seen it twice now, and have taken two or three days to think it over.

It is my opinion, no offense, that DVD Beaver‘s Gary. W. Tooze would rather saw his nose off with a steak knife than deliver blunt criticism in his Bluray reviews. I’m not saying he automatically gives handjobs to each and every Bluray he reviews — I’m saying he gives them a wink, a kiss and a neighborly hug. And he does, to be fair, post excellent Bluray screen captures…except when he posts images that seem a little too dark, which happens from time to time with Blurays of older black-and-white films.

I’m mentioning my disappointment with Tooze’s reluctance to tell it straight and plain and let the chips fall because he’s apparently first out of the gate with reviews of some of the Blurays on Universal’s Hitchcock Masterpiece Collection, and in my opinion he’s wimped out on the controversial Vertigo Bluray.

“More particularly Tooze has decided to entirely sidestep the issue of James Stewart‘s brown suit on the Vertigo Bluray. He knew that was a front-and-center concern and he doesn’t touch it. Here’s how I put it to Tooze (who never replies to emails and hides whenever I reach out) this morning:

“Gary — You never seem to want to get in touch or respond to emails or anything, but could I ask you to please call (or let me call you) regarding your assessment of the Vertigo Bluray?

“I always have difficulty deciphering which version (new Bluray, most recent DVD) you’re writing about. The following (copied from your latest post) apparently describes the Bluray version, but one can never be 100% sure:

“In the title sequence opening (girl’s face) — it was originally meant to be in black and white (like the VistaVision logo) but in post production it could not be rendered in that manner. Unfortunately in the new release someone has taken it upon themselves to color this and it has now been brightness boosted to have a less accurate tinge (orange/sepia) than its theatrical appearance.”

I’m asking because your Bluray screen capture of this title sequence indicates a more correct monochrome rendering.

“Here’s how I described the credit sequence last month after seeing a DCP on the Universal lot: ‘The woman’s face in the opening credits before the camera goes in on her eye is supposed to be nearly black and white with a just a faint touch of sepia. (The above YouTube clip is a good representation of how it should look.) And they got it wrong again — the tint is definitely too orange.’

“I’m especially troubled, Gary, that in your review you didn’t address the color of Jimmy Stewart‘s brown suit. In the DCP i saw last August is was aubergine-tinted brown. As I wrote in the piece, ‘Jimmy Stewart’s brown suit is brownish violet or brownish purple (I can’t decide what to call it) throughout the first half or so. But it’s supposed to be plain brown. We all know what brown looks like. Brown is brown. It doesn’t have a violet tint.'”

I’m supposed to receive my Hitchcock Masterpiece collection sometime next week.

Gawker‘s Neetzan Zimmerman posted this late yesterday, but the video itself is two months old and the actual event — a Springfield, Missouri City Hall public hearing about “a proposal to add protections based on sexual orientation and gender identity to the city’s nondiscrimination ordinance” — happened on August 14th. I really, really don’t like posting old stuff, but this is good.

The speaker is Rev. Phil Snider of the Brentwood Christian Church, and he’s basically admonishing the council for “inviting the judgement of God upon our land” by making “special rights for gays and lesbians.” Just stay with it and watch to the end.

With Rory Kennedy‘s Ethel now airing on HBO, I’m re-running my reaction from last January’s Sundance Film Festival: “I was a little guarded about seeing Ethel, a doc about the director’s famous and revered mom, the widow of Robert F. Kennedy who became known as a force of nature beginning in the early ’60s. I was wondering what could be historically new in this, and whether it might feel a little too tidy and boilerplatey.

“The answers are ‘very little’ and ‘it sorta kinda is.’ But it’s a beautiful sonnet regardless — a funny, warm and deeply affectionate family tale that slips inside and, I swear, churns it all up again. Damned if it didn’t make me melt down a couple of times.

“It’s nominally focused, of course, on Ethel — her life with Bobby, the 11 kids (she was pregnant for 99 months all told), the White House and U.S. Senate years of the early to late ’60s, etc. But it’s primarily about Rory’s legendary rockstar dad.

“RFK’s political career and his marriage to Ethel are the spine of the doc, as they were so closely intertwined. But the doc more or less ends with his death in June 1968, and barely touches Ethel’s life for the last 40-plus years. The 80-something matriarch is honestly and bluntly presented as very private and guarded, and amusingly snippy at times. She ‘hates’ introspection, she says at one point. Anyone who’s ever had a feisty grandmother will chuckle at this.

“But it must be said that Rory Kennedy’s decision to only briefly summarize her mother’s life after 1968 and not explore any particulars (such as Ethel’s bout with alcoholism) makes this a lesser film than it could have been. It’s more than a bit of a gloss.

“And yet it’s such a charming and emotionally affecting one that almost all is forgiven. I couldn’t believe I was weeping at this, a significant portion of the the most familiar and widely told romantic tragedy of our times — the Kennedys who lived and soared and triumphed and made elective office sexy, and then were cut down. But I guess we all have our vulnerable spots.

Rory, Ethel Kennedy and grandkids somewhere in Park City with the last 24 hours.

Ethel director Rory Kennedy during post-screening q & a at the Park City Library — Saturday, 1.21, 10:40 am.

One of these days somebody is going to make a Michael Jackson documentary that isn’t filled with sycophants and grinning admirers coo-cooing about his electric dynamite white-sock coolitude. I like a lot of his music too but somebody needs to do a real portrait of the guy some day, a doc that says “look at this freak and how super-popular he was and still is, and how nobody wants to really look at the twisted truth.” Today it’s still “my God, he was such an amazing genius and now he’s gone.”