To: Mephisto who wrote (4730 ) 1/2/2003 9:10:47 AM From: Labrador Read Replies (1) | Respond to of 5185 Jan. 1, 2003, 6:23PM 'Crooked E' looks at Enron culture By MIKE McDANIEL Copyright 2003 Houston Chronicle An exceptional scandal cries out for exceptional storytelling. CBS' The Crooked E: The Unshredded Truth About Enron is not it. Those who make time for the movie (8-10 p.m. Sunday, Channel 11) have every reason to expect either an intense docudrama or a film with unbounded sarcasm or unfettered satire. This is neither. Instead, we get something in between -- a mix of fact and fiction so obliquely depicted as the same that to categorize the movie as satire or docudrama takes a bit of research or an act of faith or both. The Crooked E is a hybrid that serves little purpose. It doesn't educate because it does not add new information to the still-unfolding story. It offers just enough truth to make it interesting and too many lies to take it seriously. It doesn't entertain because it is simply not witty, and perhaps because it's too soon to laugh at the misfortune it has caused still-hurting Houstonians. It doesn't mollify because it lacks a proper denouement, and it doesn't focus on the principal players. It is out too early to know the fates of the principals. And it paints the executives with a brush too wide and too black. But it has been made, and CBS deserves a modicum of credit for that, because a story about energy trading, virtual accounting and financial collapse is not the easiest to tell. If the movie does nothing else, it provides understanding about what the fall of Enron was all about. Loosely based on Brian Cruver's Anatomy of Greed, the movie screams for more wit and cleverness than screenwriter Stephen Mazur (Liar, Liar) can provide. It focuses too much on Cruver, who worked at Enron for only nine months, and not enough on the real "stars" of this show, the executives at the helm when the ship went down. We see Cruver as he joins the company, learns the lingo and gets swept up in a win-at-any-cost atmosphere. We see the negative effect the company's slide has on his impending marriage -- a completely invented scenario since the marriage of the real-life Cruver and his wife was never in jeopardy. Cruver, played with a perpetual grin by Dallas native Christian Kane, is inadequate as hero, the movie's extraordinary manipulations of the truth notwithstanding. In one scene that would make him out as hero, Cruver is shown trying to shred documents that will save one of his clients from financial catastrophe as the Enron ship goes down. But Cruver was not a hero. He did not help that client. He was not a whistleblower. In fact, as a young and newly hired Enron employee, he hardly got hurt by the company's collapse. What makes him the movie's focal point is the knowledge he collects for his book. A movie doesn't have to have a hero -- look how badly everyone came out in Barbarians at the Gate, which skewered all the players involved in the attempted leveraged buyout of RJR Nabisco. That fiasco made a wickedly witty 1993 HBO satire, thanks to the talents of writer Larry Gelbart (M*A*S*H) and actors James Garner and Jonathan Price. That scenario wouldn't work for The Crooked E -- and for good reason. To focus on the culpability of Enron's higher-ups would incite lawsuits. We must make do with snappy snippets of Enron CEO Ken Lay (Mike Farrell) and Jeff Skilling (Jon Ted Wynne) delivering out-of-context statements that make them sound like buffoons. What Cruver does provide, in voice-over and through his relationships with such characters as the composite Enron corporate insider Mr. Blue (Brian Dennehy, delivering another fine performance), is a glimpse inside the company's culture. The real Cruver has described as "extremely accurate" the scene in which Mr. Blue outlines to Cruver the nature of the shenanigans. That culture, as depicted here, is empowered by "Enronized," or avarice-crazed, employees and engineered by lazy bookkeepers more interested in their golf swings than proper accounting. As long as virtual accounts were engorged with virtual money, everyone was happy. It inaccurately depicts a company filled with people thriving on greed at any cost. It shows a permissive culture that made room in its ranks for busty women who worked at gentlemen's clubs. It shows, at film's end, the women and men of Playboy and Playgirl. Director Penelope Spheeris (The Little Rascals, Wayne's World) gives us an uncomfortable mix of fact and hyperbole. How do you separate the truth from the farce? Not able, for legal reasons, to use the real crooked E or its likeness, the movie makes use of an E with an extended middle bar -- a middle-finger metaphor that sums up the company's attitude and its near-term future. This is the image that will survive the memory of an inadequate TV movie made too quickly and focused too much on the insignificant. The Crooked E, 8 p.m. Sunday, CBS/Channel 11. Grade: C+.