Mideast: the good, the bad and the ugly

An Israeli reserve soldier rests his head on his rifle following a training session at the Elyakim military base,

Supporters of Iraqi Shiite cleric Moqtada al-Sadr carry a Lebanese flag as they take part in a protest against Israel's offensive

HOLLYWOOD MOVIES HAVE ALWAYS clearly differentiated the good guys from the bad guys. That's important, because movies influence the way people see the world. Certainly, George Bush developed a very "good guy-vs.-bad guy" point of view.

I was thinking about this the other day as I reviewed the hostilities in the Middle East. How would a producer "pitch" an action movie about this crisis to a Hollywood studio?

"This is a high-concept movie," he would explain. "The bad guys are the Al Qaeda Sunnis, who are mad at the U.S. because we've just given over Iraq to the Shiites, who are killing Sunnis. Of course, Al Qaeda's also getting close to Hezbollah, who are Shiites, but don't let that confuse you.

"You see, Hezbollah gets bigtime support from Syria, which is run by a Shiite who is distrusted by his Sunni majority. Syria also cozies up to Hammas, which is Sunni but also has links to the Muslim Brotherhood, which is big in Egypt.

"What ostensibly unites these factions, of course, is a fear of the Zionist conspiracy, which really means Israel. But behind this fear is an even bigger cloud -- namely the plot to resurrect the Sassanians, a pre-Islamic Iranian dynasty that once ruled Iran and Iraq. Both the good guys and the bad guys live in dread of a Sassanian-Safavod revival.

"The good news is that there are lots of colorful fringe players like Kurds and Druze hanging around the region to give the story added color.

"This is a classic good guy-vs.-bad guy story, you see -- the sort of yarn that stamped the Western as a studio staple. I know you guys will see it this way."

The producer's pitch, to be sure, may run into some resistance at the studios because of its intrinsic complexity. On the other hand, the President feels it's all black and white. So may a studio.

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Towers of power

The construction teams are hard at work. The designers are fretting over inevitable last-minute changes. Suddenly Century City, which only recently was becoming a high-rise slum, seems destined to be the new "hot" zone of Los Angeles.

Paradoxically, the two entities fueling this recovery are CAA and ICM, two talent agencies that have little in common except that both were established precisely 30 years ago. And both are pumping millions of dollars into their moves at a time when most organizations in the entertainment industry are tightening their belts.

I cannot imagine what it's like dealing with hundreds of agents, all of them professional negotiators, over issues of office space, perks, parking spots, etc. On one level, talent agencies are egalitarian meritocracies run by teams of partners. Do all partners have the same office sizes? And how about all those avid assistants listening in on the superstar phone calls -- how are their cages arrayed?

Then there's the broader issue: What message do new offices deliver to the clients? Is the presentation designed to inspire fear and awe? Does an agent who earns, say, $10 million a year want to remind his client that his puny $750,000 deal isn't really that significant?

The two best-known agents of their eras, Lew Wasserman and Michael Ovitz, both sought to remind everyone of their importance -- they carried more clout than studio chiefs, lawyers or even clients. Their offices and wardrobes reflected that fact.

Times have changed, however, and so has the balance of power. The partners who run CAA make it their mantra to avoid games of Ovitzian intimidation. They're dealmakers, not moguls -- at least that's their presentation. But will their offices, and those of ICM, reflect this aim?

As I said, I wouldn't like to be the guy who plans them.