Kirby Dick's new documentary Outrage is about "the politics of the closet"--specifically, the plight, and the damage done to gay rights legislation, by closeted politicians who align themselves with the religious right and the "family values" set to deflect suspicions about their own sexual orientation. In its hard line against hypocrisy, the movie is on the side of those, such as blogger Michael Rogers, who are working to "out" closeted politicians. It's a position that's designed to antagonize those who regard outing itself strictly as an unjustifiable intrusion into others' personal lives--including those in the media, which Dick specifically takes to task for what he sees as its eagerness to avoid dealing with gay issues. (In our own interview with the director, Dick describes a run-in with a reporter who told him that he couldn't write about the movie because it would violate his paper's policy against outing. ""Do you mean to say," Dick replied, "that your company's policy on outing trumps your company's policy on reporting!?" That kind of compartmentalized thinking has begun to affect the kind of coverage the movie is getting. Last Friday, the NPR website ran a review of the movie by Nathan Lee that, because of NPR's policy on outing, was subsequently "edited" to remove the names of former Senator Larry Craig, former New York City Mayor Ed Koch, and Florida governor Charlie Crist. The movie itself makes an elaborate case that Crist is living a strategically dishonest life that includes a recent marriage and support for his an anti-gay marriage amendment that voters have added to the state constitution. Lee subsequently asked that his name be removed from the review and added a comment to the site, lest anyone think that it was his idea to reject using Crist's name in favor of the pithy phrase "one major swing-state governor ... with aspirations to be the 2012 Republican presidential candidate."

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There’s a second-hand quality to Outrage that stems, in large part, from director Kirby Dick’s decision to not place himself front and center as he did in his prior non-fiction exposé, This Film Is Not Yet Rated. In examining – and outing – closeted gay politicians who support anti-same-sex legislation, Dick relies primarily on the investigative work of others, whether it be Blogactive’s Michael Rogers, who was reportedly instrumental in bringing to light the story of Senator Larry Craig’s failed public bathroom stall pick-up, or satellite radio talk-show host Michelangelo Signorelli, who years prior publicized deceased Malcolm Forbes’ carefully concealed homosexuality. By letting others do the heavy lifting, the filmmaker comes off as more than a little reticent, a quality in tune with the overall tone of his latest – which repeatedly justifies its modus operandi of outing closeted pols by cogently arguing that hypocrisy can’t be tolerated in public officials – and one that prevents it from generating the type of horrified, righteous indignation implied by its title.

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To celebrate its fortieth anniversary, New York magazine has set its writers to assemble a "canon" of cultural works (books, music, TV, movies) from the last forty years that "capture something emblematic about New York." This, as David Edelstein's list of movies makes clear, isn't necessarily about selecting the best, nor is it limited to movies made by New Yorkers in New York: El Topo is here, for its role in creating that urban institution, the midnight movie. (By a felicitous quirk of timing, the first title on the list is Planet of the Apes with Charlton Heston, for its indelible closing image of the Statue of the Liberty after a wild weekend.) Also cited: Mean Streets, The Godfather, Part II, Taxi Driver, Dog Day Afternoon, Death Wish, The French Connection, Shaft, Deep Throat, Annie Hall, Saturday Night Fever, Tootsie, Wild Style, My Dinner with Andre, Stranger Than Paradise, and Wall Street.

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In I Am Legend, Will Smith zips around a depopulated Manhattan in a sports car, with his trusty German shepherd in the seat next to him; if he takes a curve too fast and the pooch soils the upholstery, he can always pick up another one. Smith also high in the tall grass that, intended, has sprouted up in Times Square and hunts deer with the Virgin Megastore in the background. He doesn't have any scenes with the Statue of Liberty, but as Sewell Chan points out in The New York Times, apocalyptic fantasies centered in New York City often go straight for the lady in the harbor. Charlton Heston had a hissy-fit when he encountered her remains at the end of Planet of the Apes; her torch sticking out of the waterline was the last visible trace of a submerged New York in Steven Spielberg's A.I.; and the promotional artwork for the forthcoming Cloverfield uses a smoking, ravaged statue to indicate what horrors may await audiences when that viral-marketed behemoth finally lumbers into theaters.

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