Last night we watched "De-Lovely." It was an interesting movie, especially if you like musicals and the 1920s/30s/40s genre of music. But it left me feeling the same way as I did after viewing "Pollack." If anything, it made me appreciate the work of the artist less, not more, after knowing about his life. Not that I care about the personal lives of famous people that much, but I have a really hard time admiring people from those times who enjoyed every advantage and then chose to live dishonestly, recklessly, or on the fringe, when other people who were just as worthy had to risk everything to immigrate here, or were born poor and didn't get the chance to go beyond eighth grade. Both were undoubtedly talented, but being talented is not an excuse. If they weren't born rich they wouldn't have been able to pull it off and probably never would have been famous in the first place. They would have been toiling in a factory or on a farm, and worrying about how the kids would get enough to eat, not sipping mixed drinks and singing ditties with pinkies in the air. But then Hollywood biographies are always suspect. How much is really true anyway? And does the worship that I'm sure many actors feel for greats from the entertainment business color the way the story is presented?