On The Beat It Doesn't Sound Romantic, But Watching Valenti Squirm A Little Makes For A Nice...

One of the perquisites of being the Hollywood Reporter in Washington is attending the Motion Picture Assn.'s holiday movie screenings. The screenings in the group's private theater actually serve dual purposes. They let MPAA chief Jack Valenti continue to exert influence here, and it's one of the few times my wife Jeri and I get to see a movie that doesn't star a mouse or bug.

This year's film, the Denzel Washington starrer "Hurricane," was one of my more satisfactory moviegoing experiences, but the screening held nearly the same drama.

It seems the projectionist got snarled in a vicious traffic jam and was running hopelessly late. Without him, the movie couldn't run. It was looking as if I would witness one of the great Jack Valenti's most embarrassing moments.

Seeing a public figure squirm is one of a reporter's guilty pleasures, and I admit that I was looking forward to watching one of Washington's most powerful lobbyists sweat a bit.

But, alas, it was not to be, as Valenti snatched victory from the jaws of defeat. After years of Valenti watching, it never ceases to amaze me at how well he can back and fill. He's one of the best in the business at it.

As aides scurried to find the wayward projectionist, Valenti's wife, Mary Margaret, invited former congressman Jim Symington down to entertain the restless crowd. Symington actually sang a song about the perils of the city from his book "A Muse 'N Washington, Beltway Ballads and Beyond." Jeri said that was worth the price of admission.

Then, Oscar-winning documentary filmmaker Charles Guggenheim volunteered to see if he could run the projector. Not wanting to be left out, I volunteered to help Guggenheim and followed him up the theater's back stairs and into the booth. He took one look at the two projectors, shook his head and said, "No way." Just looking at the space-age projectors, I knew running them would be a lot more complicated than in junior high.

I thought Jack's holiday goose was cooked. He was actually in the throes of an apology, offering a rain check, when one of his assistants yelled out. "He's here!" With those timely words the show went on. What could have been an embarrassment in this cynical town concluded with a happy ending. How else could a Hollywood tale end?