Count on Peter Bart to roll his eyes at the current Chicken Little-ism infecting Hollywood. "Here's a suggestion to the gloom-and-doomers," he writes in Variety. "If you want to get depressed, turn your attention to Iraq. Give Hollywood a breather." He's got typically snappy rejoinders for every conceivable piece of explanatory doomcasting out there. Can we bitch and moan that everyone's staying home instead of going to the theaters? Sure, but "this is about as relevant as asking couples whether they'd prefer to have sex atop the Eiffel Tower or at a Motel 6." So ... what exactly does that mean? That going to the movie theater has become so exotic and absurd that it can only be contextualised up against public fornication? Okay, that sounds about right to me.