ever given a chance to develop annidentity strong enough to distract attentionnfrom the star. Instead, they arengiven totems: Cobretti’s best friend eatsnjunk food; the Girl, played bynStallone’s wife, Brigitte Nielsen, is anfashion model; the bad guys wearnleather jackets, ride motorcycles, andnclink axes together in some sort ofnunexplained daily ritual; and Cobretti’snrival cop continually tells himnhe’s a loose cannon and should shapenup.nStallone as Cobretti is so good he’sninsufferable—a combination of DirtynHarry, Groucho Marx, and James Q.nWilson. Yet this cheerful do-gooder isnthe same man who later pours gasolinenon one of the bad guys, drops a lightednmatch on him, and quips, “You haventhe right to remain silent.”nIt’s not surprising that little dramancan be generated by such characters:nWho cares what happens to them?nStallone attempts to make up for thenobvious lack of suspense by inserting anludicrous chase scene or fistfight everynfew minutes, but it doesn’t help. Atnthe same time, the director amusesnhimself by packing the film with allusionsnto other movies, but with non.discernible purpose.nIn Sweet Liberty, Alan Alda makesnanother attempt to recover the spirit ofnold-fashioned romantic comedy (c£nhis 1981 release, The Four Seasons).nBut for romance to work, we have toncare about the characters, and innSweet Liberty there’s little to inspirenaffection. Alda offers his supportingnplayers no more leeway than Stallonendoes, and the characters are no morenwell-rounded: Michael Caine plays anvain, iecherous movie star; MichellenPfeififer a manipulative seductress; thenusually reliable Bob Hoskins a fawningnscreenwriter; and Lillian Gish, in antruly appalling role, plays Alda’s agednsenile mother. Alda, while momentarilynseduced by the Hollywood glamournintroduced into his North Carolinanhometown, eventually proves his intellectualnand moral superiority overneveryone else in the film—except hisngirlfriend, whose goodness and devotionnserve to make him look evennbetter.nAlda succumbs to the temptation toninflate his part. As a college professornwhose book on the Revolutionary Warnis being filmed as a comedy in hisnhometown, Alda conspires to get thencast to do the film’s climactic scene hisnway—the “right” way, of course. Thenscene turns out great, and even thenfilm’s director, heretofore his swornnenemy, is pleased.nThis dubious business, furthermore,nis in the service of an extremelyndubious proposition: that freedom isnthe essential element of American societynand any greatness we have evernachieved. No doubt, many peoplenwould be willing to argue for thenimportance of such other things asnrespect for the family, the prevalencenof religious belief, and the emphasisnon local issues over national ones, butnit really doesn’t seem very important tonargue against frivolous nonsense.nThe conclusion is inescapable thatnthese films would have turned outnquite differently had their producersnhad a choice. But big stars exert tremendousnpower in Hollywood, and itntakes a lot of luck, tenacity, and convictionnfor a producer to buck thensystem. Some have it, and they makengood films. Stallone himself has appearednin several good pictures. Butnmost, as in any other industry, arenneither geniuses nor persons of extraordinaryncharacter. It’s not theirnfault if the medium they work in isnsubject to distorted market forcesnwhich make it extremely difficult fornthem to do their best work. And thenstars can hardly be blamed for thinkingnthey know better than their writers,ndirectors, and producers. But a marketnsystem imposed from outside to remedynills which haven’t been felt for overn30 years is foolish, archaic, and un­nnecessary.nThere is evidence that the big studiosnare finally beginning to hack awaynat the effects of the consent decree bynbuying theaters, television stations,nand cable channels. These are probablynnecessary moves: The moviegoingnaudience is moving increasingly toncable and cassettes, where they can getnthe same films at a lower price. But thenHollywood studios can still save themselvesnby responding wisely to the challengesnof their changing marketplace.nThat is, if Washington will let them.nSam Karnick is a screenwriter whonlives in Madison, Wisconsin.nTELEVISIONnnnFactiousnFundamentalistsnby Janet Scott BarlownTo judge by the tone, content, andnamount of recent media coverage ofnProtestant Fundamentalism in generalnand television evangelists in particular.nFundamentalists are a collection ofninterchangeable religious parts thatnhave grouped themselves into a unitedncultural force which grows strongernand more indivisible by the week. Butnthe conclusion is incorrect because theninformation that supports it is skewednor incomplete. The fact is, Fundamentalistsnare sort of like pickles: Theynall start out as cucumbers, but afternthat it’s Heinz 57 Varieties. What’snmore, the gherkins aren’t always willingnto share shelf space with the dills,nand vice versa.nNearly every variety of Fundamentalismnis presented on religious television,nand only victims of predeterminednexpectations or doctrinalnilliteracy could decide that these varietiesnform either the makings or thenproduct of a single batch. Under thenFundamentalist label are PositivenConfessionists and Back to the Crossers,npre-Tribbers and post-Tribbers,nwill-of-God seekers and will-of-Godnknowers, prophesiers and falseprophesyndenouncers.nAmong the major television figuresnthere is Paul Crouch, founder of TBN,nwho, called to use the “miracle ofnsatellite” to bathe the world in Christiannprogramming, schedules twon”Praise-A-Thons” a year for that purpose,nthus sparing viewers constantnentreaties for money. There is PatnRobertson, the answered prayer ofnmany Pentecostals, possessor of a YalenLaw School degree, a personal politicalnagenda, and the gift of tonguesn(take that, secular humanists). Therenis Jim Bakker of PTL whose daily talknshow is an ongoing Christian soapnopera, his personal vehicle for showcasingnhis latest project, beggingnmoney for his latest project, or lamentingnhis persecution by the enemies ofnhis latest project. There is Jerry Falwell,nwho delivers political lectures innthe guise of sermons. There is JamesnDECEMBER 1986 / 43n