Hot Type, for the week of January 28, 2005 -- continued Kalman Kaplan, who used to run the suicide-prevention clinic at Michael Reese Hospital, sees a double standard at work in how society weighs the interests of the disabled. "My bias was to keep people from killing themselves," he says. "It's not a question of civil liberties. It's a question of why they want to do what they want to do and what can you help them do to find reasons to live. There's a dual system. If somebody is physically disabled and has the same psychological problems as somebody who's not physically disabled, the stance of the therapist might be very different." I have my own issue with Million Dollar Baby. It offers the familiar dynamic of a beautiful young woman enthralled with a vastly older hero. Not by coincidence, Eastwood made the movie, and his character is clearly the best thing that ever happened to Swank's: at the conclusion of every prizefight she leaps into his arms. The last time I saw Eastwood was in Blood Work, in which he and a much younger woman in distress promptly become lovers. Eastwood made that one too. The definitive geezer-babe flick was The Horse Whisperer, in which Kristin Scott Thomas is Robert Redford's for the taking but he sends her back to her husband. Redford produced and directed. From things Eastwood's said to the press since Million Dollar Baby came out, the movie he intended to make is the movie Ebert was imaginative enough to see. "The two characters made a decision," Ebert told me. "It may have been the wrong decision. It may have been the right decision. The movie invites us to decide." But Not Dead Yet didn't see that movie, and neither did I. Thanks to the star power of Swank and Eastwood, the film was an endorsement of Maggie's death. "Because it's Clint Eastwood, we tend to accept it as the right thing to do," Wilmington allows. The last reel is jammed with dubious plot points that might seem trivial to anyone who accepts the film on its own terms but inexcusable to someone who doesn't. There's the absurdly lax security at Maggie's nursing home; the bedsores that quickly cost Maggie a leg; the way she dies at Frankie's hands, which Not Dead Yet says would have been excruciating; the fact that she could have simply asked to have her ventilator disconnected; the priest's warning to Frankie that he'd never forgive himself, which to me was perfunctory and not a serious invitation to the audience to judge him. All these details were off-limits to critics because they came along in the part of the movie critics forbid themselves to talk about. "There's an unspoken rule you don't reveal reversals in the third act," says Wilmington. Ebert wrote me, "A critic who gives away something like that in his original review will have scorn and hatred heaped upon him by moviegoers. Believe me, I know." On Tuesday he obliquely weighed in on the debate by applauding the documentary Murderball, which is about quadriplegics who triumph as athletes. Ebert and Wilmington both loved Million Dollar Baby. Diane Coleman despised it, and her duty, unlike the critics', was to promptly and loudly say why. News Bites Doing research on Clint Eastwood's court case mentioned above, I found these fine samples of the writer's craft: From Business Week online: "Now, Dirty Harry is Gunning for the ADA." From BBC News: "According to his lawyer the case was about one thing -- Mrs. zum Brunnen and those who represented her, wanted a 'fistful of dollars.'" From E! Online: "Is Clint Eastwood feeling lucky? The movie star, director and former mayor hopes a jury will make his day." More notes on the writer's craft. Sometimes the wrong word is better than the right one. Syndicated columnist Kathleen Parker, who's carried by the Tribune, faced a predicament last week when she wrote about the extravagance of presidential inaugurations. She walked us through history, through the ebbs and flows of pomp. Jefferson "declined a carriage ride and walked to the Capitol for his swearing-in." So did Carter, who "instituted business suits instead of tuxedos" and spent only $3.5 million. Lest careless readers think she admired Carter, she immediately dismissed him as a "human snooze." And on to Reagan, "with the most expensive inauguration in history." But her summation returned her to Carter. "With a couple of exceptions -- notably Carter's hokey-pokey -- inaugurations have always been rich in snob appeal." Parker had written herself into a corner. As even the worst of conservative writers -- and Parker's a contender -- don't want to be caught gushing over snob appeal, she couldn't afford to insult Carter here. But terms such as "populism" or "thrift" would sound suspiciously like compliments. Parker's solution -- "hokey-pokey." Gibberish with a dismissive ring. Problem solved. Send tips, tirades, and comments to hottype@chicagoreader.com Copyright © 2005 Chicago Reader, Inc. All rights reserved.