I know Bob Kerrey had plenty to say about PEARL HARBOR in last issue’s Kino Korner—and the movie advice of a former U.S. senator and Vietnam War criminal ought to be good enough for anybody. But seeing as how I’m still experiencing some pretty heavy psychic fallout more than 72 hours after sitting through the Jerry Bruckheimer-Michael Bay World War II schleppic, I thought it might do to provide at least a minimal alternative viewpoint. For awhile, I was even convinced that it was my dire post-viewing mental state Sunday evening that caused the 76ers to lose game 3 of the NBA Finals. That may be a bit extreme, but I do know that 11 hours’ worth of jetlag alone cannot explain my inability to move at all throughout Monday. In fact, the one time I did attempt to stir I turned on the TV to one of those Pearl Harbor ads — the shock was more than sufficient to send me right back to that unbearable place for another 15 hours or so.

I won’t bother to go into all the various things that are horribly wrong with this movie — the 3-hour runtime that feels like at least six, the Walt Disney approach to historical detail, the ludicrous racial portrayals, the ham-fisted imagery… to say nothing of the questionable taste of using a tragic historical event as an excuse for a special-effects extravaganza, which itself acts as the backdrop for what must be one of the most tedious love triangles in movie history.

No, even without all those flaws (and believe me when I tell you that I’ve just barely scratched the surface), Pearl Harbor would still be a movie you should do everything in your power to avoid. Why? Because by spending your hard-earned $7 on a film like this, you’re essentially saying that it’s OK to blow $140 million making a movie this bad. And if enough people do that, then there will be an even worse blockbuster next summer with a budget of something like $170 million. Sounds great, doesn’t it?

At the complete opposite end of the spectrum is NURSE BETTY, the third film from director Neil LaBute. This is really about as far as you can get from the likes of Pearl Harbor and still have recognizable stars up on the screen. Perhaps for that reason alone, it’s worth spending your $7 for the price of entry, no matter how flawed the project might be.

If Nurse Betty is less overtly cynical and theatrically staged than LaBute’s previous pictures (the astonishing In the Company of Men and the disappointing Your Friends and Neighbors), it is probably because he is working from someone else’s screenplay (John C. Richards and James Flamberg’s, to be exact) for the first time. Not that his characteristic black humor is missing — rather, it lurks just beneath a seemingly light-hearted facade of fantasy and fairy tale. This duality makes for a rather interesting effect. The events of the story may be patently absurd when viewed from the outside, but they are propelled along by an underlying reality that is altogether grim. This requires something of a suspension of disbelief on the part of the viewer, one that in fact parallels the main character’s own retreat into a fantasy world.

Then again, maybe having your movie-going experience mirror the rich inner life of part-time housewife/part-time waitress Renee Zellweger isn’t exactly your idea of a good time. No matter, Nurse Betty still has plenty to recommend it, especially in the supporting roles. LaBute regular Aaron Eckhart is terrific once again as Zellweger’s abusive, philandering husband; moreover, he sports one of the finest white trash hairdos in recent memory. Unfortunately, he is killed off rather early in the proceedings, but it is at least a damn fine scalping. Greg Kinnear is no less entertaining, and gets his best arrogant celebrity role since the underrated Mystery Men. There’s even an unexpected little bit part for Crispin Glover.

I’m not exactly sure what Chris Rock is doing in this movie, and to all appearances neither is he. Morgan Freeman, with an unusually complex performance as Rock’s criminal mentor, does his best to keep the young whippersnapper from getting completely out of hand, however — presumably with some assistance from the director.

Overall, LaBute’s approach is surprisingly restrained, avoiding the outright contempt for the characters those familiar with his previous work might be expecting. This identification with the characters is all the more surprising considering that some of them are addicted to daytime soap operas. To be sure, the motives of such fans are sensitively depicted, even while the soap-opera makers themselves are subjected to some rather scathing satirical jabs.

Of course, this more even-handed approach may not necessarily appeal to LaBute’s core audience (which I can only assume must number in the low hundreds). Such folks will be pleased to know, however, that his next film (Possession) will once again be based on a script of his own devising, with Aaron Eckhart in the lead role. It is also to be hoped that Eckhart will be subjecting costar Gwyneth Paltrow to all manner of psychological degradations.