Why MacLachlan? He's close to a dead ringer for the late actor (check out the stills on this page), and having a strong resemblance would probably be crucial in playing someone who's relatively well-known due to Superman reruns on TV. Plus he's demonstrated he can act circles around the part in a four-scene audition tape, which the Polish brothers shot in London earlier this month. On top of which, everyone who's seen the tape (agents, the film's casting director, this columnist) has been blown away by it.

But not you. You'd rather pull the plug on this thing rather than cast MacLachlan, even though Miramax has already sunk hundreds of thousands into acquiring the property and development costs. MacLachlan may be the best choice to play Reeves but he won't sell tickets, meaning if you're a careful politician there's no upside whatsoever to advocating his being hired. Besides, he's an indie actor who's probably best known for having starred in David Lynch's TWIN PEAKS (or for his more recent ongoing role in SEX AND THE CITY), and, because of the familiarity factor, probably won't deliver a shard of box-office muscle when the Reeves biopic opens in theaters in late '03.

Travolta would, however. The problem, you're privately acknowledging, is that he'd be a tough swallow as Reeves, who is portrayed in Paul Bernbaum's screenplay pretty much as he was in real life - an affable, charming, down-on-his-luck actor whose career was both invigorated and destroyed by his playing the Superman role during the last eight years of his life. Travolta doesn't look even a tiny bit like Reeves, and it would be a stretch to ask audiences to accept this hugely charismatic star of several big-grossing films over the last few years as an actor having trouble finding movie work. On top of the fact that hiring Travolta would almost certainly add significantly to the budget.

Not to mention the fact that MacLachlan actually is, in a way, Reeves - a likable, talented thesp struggling to find decent roles and sometimes running into road blocks, partly because studio executives won't budge on their preconceptions about him.

And so you're asking yourself, the "right" guy or the money guy? The perfect fit or the 800-lb. breadwinner? Wait a minute ... you need to ask? We're not talking about the priorities of Miramax Films in the year 1994 or 1997, but 2002. As a major-league screenwriter remarks, "It's getting more difficult these days to set up films with supposed indies like Miramax than it is with the big studios."

Look...Up in the Sky!

Enough with the Miramax perspective. This is yours truly talking here and the casting impasse over the George Reeves biopic is real. A copy of the MacLachlan audition tape (which was shot in London, where MacLachlan is appearing in a play, on 8.5.02 and started to be shown around a few days later) was passed along last week when I was in New York. I subsequently got hold of Bernbaum's screenplay, and there's basically no question in my mind that MacLachlan would whup ass as George Reeves.

Any journalist in Los Angeles who wants to see the tape can just give me a ring and I'll lend it to him or her. You'll see what I'm talking about. MacLachlan is as right for this part as Humphrey Bogart was right for the role of Duke Mantee in the film version of THE PETRIFIED FOREST (1936). It has his name on it.

Michael and Mark Polish have made three previous films - TWIN FALLS, IDAHO (1999), JACKPOT ('01) and NORTHFORK, their latest, which is due for release next year via Paramount Classics, and which co-stars Nick Nolte, Daryl Hannah, James Woods and MacLachlan. They declined to discuss the MacLachlan casting matter at any length, apparently out of not wanting to unduly piss off Miramax. But they acknowledged their support of MacLachlan, which of course was underlined by their flying specially to London to capture his audition on film.

Michael adds that the film will be shot in their favorite aspect ratio, 2.35 to 1, and that their plan is to give the film a slightly grainy, three-strip Technicolor in post-production, "as if it was made back then, and not like a modern period piece."

Miramax has to be fiscally responsible, of course, in approving casting on this $20 million venture, and it's my understanding that the Polish brothers are not waving off the financial implications of their advocating MacLachlan. Their position, I'm told, is that, yes, MacLachlan is not a movie star but Reeves isn't the lead character (he's seen entirely in flashbacks) and that the movie will have other names. Besides, the movie is basically a legend-of-Superman piece -- a very real thing compared to, say, the makings of a typical fictional superhero flick -- and as such MacLachlan's performance, an homage to Reeves as much as anything else, fits perfectly.

Joaquin Phoenix will play a Nick Harris Agency detective named Lemar Moglio, hired by Reeves' mother (who may be played by Patricia Neal) to determine what really caused her son's death. There are two meaty female roles, one of which (Toni Mannix, the wife of studio boss Eddie Mannix who has a long passionate affair with Reeves) could possibly be played by Michelle Pfeiffer or someone of her calibre. James Woods is also on board as Howard Strickling, a high-level studio publicist and fixer.

The Polish brothers are open to hiring another actor besides MacLachlan to play Reeves, I'm told, but Miramax's suggested alternatives have so far bordered on the ridiculous. One of these, I'm told, was, believe it or not, Robert Downey, Jr., who, at 5'7" or 5'8," is a bit short of stature to be playing the Man of Steel. (Downey has declined, I'm told.) Miramax also offered it to Clive Owen, who passed. Gibson, who's about to direct a movie about Jesus Christ starring Jim Caviezel, also declined. Travolta is apparently the only big-name guy at this juncture who hasn't shut the door.

A Miramax spokesperson said, "We're really excited about this project, but our priority has always been and continues to be selecting the best actor for any role. We've made no casting decisons yet on this project." The spokesperson wasn't able to confirm what I've heard about the start date for TRUTH, JUSTICE AND THE AMERICAN WAY, which is that it will start shooting in either December or January.

The Miramax guy also took note of the casting of character actor Sam Rockwell in the lead role of game show producer and alleged CIA assassin Chuck Barris in CONFESSION OF A DANGEROUS MIND, which opens in December. When he said that, I immediately wondered if Miramax's experience with this George Clooney-directed film, and particularly with test-screening reactions to Rockwell's performance or charisma quotient, has prompted Miramax executives to swear off casting leads who aren't proven stars.

"If George Reeves were the main character in the film, [Miramax's] concern would be understandable but the film is actually told from the point of view of Moglio," an insider confides. "As the Reeves character is seen only in flashbacks, we feel it's less important to fill the role with a major star as it is to find someone whom you believe really is George Reeves. Michael and Mark believe they have found this actor in Kyle MacLachlan."

MacLachlan's association with TWIN PEAKS (along with his numerous indie-actor credits, which count for nothing at the box office) "makes him an unacceptable choice to the folks at Miramax," the insider continues, "which, ironically, is the same situation that drove Reeves to put a bullet in his head. [The Polish brothers] feel this is one of the things that would make his playing Reeves so poignant, rather that watching an A-list star pretend to be a Hollywood pariah."

TRUTH, JUSTICE AND THE AMERICAN WAY isn't the first project to try and put the George Reeves story on the big screen. Producer Don Murphy's Angry Films reportedly tried pushing a script based on HOLLYWOOD KRYPTONITE: THE BULLDOG, THE LADY, AND THE DEATH OF SUPERMAN, by Sam Kashner and Nancy Schoenberger. Screenwriter-producers Scott Alexander and Larry Karazewski (ED WOOD, THE PEOPLE VS. LARRY FLYNT), who are always getting pitched by screenwriters about this or that true-life saga, say they've flipped through at least one other Reeves project besides Murphy's.

For what it's worth, I think Bernbaum's script (I didn't read the absolute latest draft, but a fairly recent one) is first-rate - clean, concise, well thought out and more than just an investigative procedural. It asks how and why Reeves died, and it entertains the possibility (as other writers and biographers of Reeves have done) that he might possibly have been murdered.

What elevates it, I think, is the focus on the effect that adult behavior (and especially hurtful adult behavior) has upon children. Reeves may not be the main character, but he's certainly the heart and soul of the piece. The script downplays his reported ladies-man behavior, confining his romantic liaisons to just two women - Toni Mannix and Lennore Lemmon, his fiancée, who was partying with friends in Reeves' home at the time of his death.

There is also emotional depth given to Phoenix's detective character - he's not just some wisecracking flatfoot. The final residue is one of genuine sadness over the loss of a good guy. I felt a little choked up at the end.

Gunshots in Benedict Canyon

[Rather than steal or paraphrase, here are excerpts of a piece about Reeves' life and death by Bill Kelly called "Who Killed Superman?", which I found on a Reeves Web site.]

Few Hollywood mysteries can compare with the bloody finale of TV's indestructible Man of Steel - or remain enveloped in more mystery.

A bullet - faster than a speeding train - snuffed out the life of George Reeves, the actor who made his reputation in the 1950s as the TV incarnation of the comic-book character, Superman. Forty years later Reeves' death still stews in controversy. The coroner called it "indicated suicide," but insiders who knew Reeves refused to believe he self-destructed. A Los Angeles detective, now deceased, told this writer, "Frankly, the evidence seemed to support that Reeves was murdered."

When the wire services crackled: "Superman Dead: Coroner Orders Autopsy in Mystery," the Beverly Hills police received dozens of calls the first hour from frantic fans who wanted to know if Superman was truly dead. Little did Hollywood's denizens envision that by daylight they would have front-row seats at one of their city's most bizarre scandals.

During 104 episodes of a six-year run on television, Superman aficionados had seen Reeves leap tall buildings in a single bound, walk through fire, battle grotesque monsters, and brush off fusillades of bullets like gnats. Superman was contractually bound to immortality. Or so his fans thought, particularly his younger ones. To them Reeves was Superman, and as durable as tooled steel; to them it was unfathomable that Superman could be felled by a single bullet unleashed from a .38-caliber pistol.

But to the police who were summoned to the two-story house at 1579 Benedict Canyon Road at 1:59 a.m., on June 16, 1959, the 6-foot-2, 198-pound nude body in the second-floor bedroom was indeed human and very much dead. Blood splashed the bed, the wall, and drenched the carpet. A 38-caliber projectile had bored through Reeves' skull, ripping its way upwards and embedding itself in the ceiling.

The first detective on the scene, shuddered: "That certainly is an odd upward trajectory for a bullet to take - if this is a suicide."

One of Reeves' eyes was open, staring into oblivion. The other eyeball was pasted to a wall. He left behind no note or departing message such as George Sanders or Albert Decker did at their leave-takings. At this point, investigators could not say for sure what had happened in the Reeves' home, or who had fired the shot that killed him.

Controversy over Superman's death was immediate and spread so rapidly that many Los Angeles tabloids printed extra editions. Reeves, although he could hardly be called a major screen personality, had brought genuine believability to the role of Superman. He had been so revered as "The Man of Steel," that the series appeared in 30 countries and in 15 languages.

Among the Doubting Thomases was Reeves' agent and best friend, Arthur Weissman. He didn't believe that Clark Kent committed suicide. He attributed the 45-year-old actor's death to a real life "fatal attraction." Divorced, Reeves was a womanizer with a reputation for treating women as sequels and prequels.

The grotesque murder plot, as Weissman charged, involved the voluptuous wife of Eddie Mannix, the vice president of Loew's Theaters, Inc. Mannix was one of the most powerful executives in Tinseltown, with mob connections up to his silk underdrawers.

But skeptics pointed out that Reeves was despondent over the cancellation of his Superman series and that he was flat broke with no movie roles on the horizon that would restore his fading popularity. According to Weissman, nothing was further from the truth. He had socked away his money and was "well-fixed." Aside from that, he had several projects in the making that would revive his career. Plus he was excited about his impending marriage.

His bride-to-be was an attractive New York socialite named Lenore Lemmon. Reeves and his betrothed were soon to fly to Spain on their honeymoon. At age 35, Lenore was overly jealous of any woman who even spoke to Reeves. One night at New York's Stork Club she slugged a woman who made eyes at the muscleman.

Movieland wondered: Had Lenore discovered that her hunk of masculinity was bedding another bimbo? And if so, did she hire a Mafia goon to knock him off? A quip that made the rounds at the time: "Lenore was so jealous of George that if she found no blonde, black, or red hairs on his jacket, she would accuse him of running around with a bald woman."

Born George Bessolo on January 6, 1914, in Woolstock, Ill., the future Clark Kent was extremely popular in high school. He excelled in boxing, wrestling, fencing, and the boudoir. He loved girls and acting, and appeared in several school plays - always upstaging the other actors.

After he graduated, Bessolo continued to pursue girls, sports, and acting at Pasadena Junior College. His mother, Helen Lescher Bessolo, convinced him to bow out of the Golden Gloves, where he had run up a tidy 31-0 record. She was afraid the punishment involved would hinder his chances of becoming another Errol Flynn.

At age 20, while appearing in a stage play at the prestigious Pasadena Playhouse, Bessolo was noticed by a Warner Brothers talent scout. Subsequently, he was signed to a seven-year contract. Reeves had charisma, even at this point. He was rushed into film after film. In 1939 he was loaned to MGM to play one of the Tarleton twins in GONE WITH THE WIND, a role that culturally upgraded his career. Jack Warner was immediately aware that he had a future he-man star on his hands. Feeling the name "Bessolo" was too sissified, Warner changed his name to Reeves.

Hollywood's renewed interest in reviving the Errol Flynn type role - to the delight of female theatergoers - would have seemed to play to Reeves' long suit, but for some reason it didn't. All the roles his agent went after for him at Warner Brothers ended up going to others. Reeves lost out to Ronald Reagan in SMASHING THE MONEY RING, and he was no match for James Cagney, who snatched THE FIGHTING 69TH role opposite Pat O'Brien away from him. Disheartened, Reeves jumped over to 20th Century Fox, where the opposition wasn't as tough. But he forgot about Tyrone Power who tested against him and won out every time.

So he signed with Paramount. He got a supporting role in SO PROUDLY WE HAIL (1943) opposite Claudette Colbert and Veronica Lake, with whom he allegedly had an affair. Called to war, Reeves entertained troops through the Special Forces detachment.

Following his discharge, Reeves returned to Culver City to continue his career. He found stars like Clark Gable, Humphrey Bogart, and James Cagney were dominating the genre. Roles his agent had carefully selected for him went to newcomers like Gregory Peck, Kirk Douglas and Burt Lancaster. Forced to take mediocre parts, he made a scant appearance in DeMille's SAMSON AND DELILAH (1949). His agent lobbied for the part of Samson, but Victor Mature won hands down.

Reeves served a long and tiring apprenticeship before he became a myth figure: BLOOD AND SAND, THE STRAWBERRY BLONDE, RANCHO NOTORIOUS, FROM HERE TO ETERNITY, and WESTWARD HO, THE WAGONS (1956). And then came, by a quirk of fate, the role that molded him.

Kirk Alyn was doing serials adapted from comic books such as BLACKHAWK and SUPERMAN. Offered the lead role for a new TV series called THE ADVENTURES OF SUPERMAN, he turned it down and went back to Broadway.

"They were only offering a few hundred dollars a week for less than four months work each year," Alyn recalled. Hence the search for a new Superman was on. Over 250 auditions for the part finally narrowed down to George Reeves. Although he had a muscular body, it was necessary to sew muscles of sponge and rubber into his Superman leotard.

"He took his Superman role seriously," said a fellow actor, "He really worked hard at being Superman."

The series was a smash and Reeves' salary jumped to a whopping $55,000 a year - plus royalties from Superman dolls, books, and miscellaneous whatnots. Still a womanizer, he spent money like Gene Autry never did. His home on Benedict Canyon Road became known as "Grand Central Station of Hollywood" with nightly booze parties, sex orgies, and ear-splitting music that brought complaints from his more staid Beverly Hills neighbors. Satisfied cops usually left with an autographed picture of Superman.

According to his TV co-star, Jack Larson, who portrayed Jimmy Olsen, Reeves was a sucker for a hard-luck story. "He loaned money to anyone with a sob story and he didn't seem to care if he got it back," Larson said.

After five years, THE ADVENTURES OF SUPERMAN was cancelled in 1957 and Reeves became a soul in abject misery, and his attitude reflected it.

In Hollywood, if one waits long enough the doorbell will ring. Reeves was offered a remunerative Dick Tracy series. It meant he would have to go on tour dressed as Superman and box former light-heavyweight champ Archie Moore in an exhibition match. Anxious to cash in on his Superman status, as well as display his boxing ability, Reeves told reporters, "The Archie Moore fight will be the highlight of my life. Immediately after the fight I will be married to the most wonderful girl in the world. We'll fly to Spain, then Australia for six weeks."

The Superman series had been sold to an Australian network and Reeves was slated to receive $20,000.

In April of 1959 Reeves signed a contract to do a movie in Spain. Also, the producers of the Superman series asked him to do one more season of the show. He didn't blah all over Hollywood about his good fortune. He celebrated by taking his bride-to-be out to dinner.

Ghoulishly, hard luck followed Reeves around like his shadow. In May, he was involved in an automobile accident, was thrown through the windshield. It required 27 stitches to save his life. Headache aftershocks could only be quelled by painkillers, which caused nervous setbacks. Finding himself persona non grata, he became an unsociable creature, making sour enemies and a reputation for ungovernability.

Reeves was to be married on Friday, June 19, 1959, in Tijuana, Mexico. His houseguests included his fiancée, Lenore Lemmon, and his best man, Richard Condon. On Tuesday, June 16, Reeves went to bed shortly after midnight while his three house guests remained downstairs, chatting and celebrating the coming event. At 1:20 a.m. the fatal shot was heard.

According to Police Detective Ron Johnson, prior to his death, Reeves came down from his upstairs bedroom and loudly objected to the early morning visit of William Bliss and Carol Van Ronkel. The couple was shocked. They explained that they had only stopped by to help celebrate the impending marriage. "Get out," Reeves snapped at his old friends. "It's too late for this nonsense." The intruders apologized. Lenore gave Reeves a tongue-lashing and told him to apologize. He did, reluctantly. Everyone retreated to the living room where they soothed their differences with Scotch.

All except Reeves. Complaining of a headache, he retired to the master bedroom.

According to the police report, Reeves' visitors were seated in the plush living room when Lenore suddenly looked at Condon and said, "He's going to shoot himself." Condon was too busy admiring a big color mounted painting of Reeves in his Superman costume to pay attention to her.

Without warning, a resounding boom echoed through the house. William Bliss darted up the stairs, leaving the others behind. When Bliss burst through the bedroom door, he purportedly saw Reeves, stark naked, sprawled across the bed. Blood drenched his head. His legs were looped over a robe at the foot of the bed. On the floor, and not within reach of the man, lay a .38-caliber handgun. Bliss rushed downstairs where he found the others still seated in the living room. "My friend is dead! My friend is dead!" he screamed.