Malden was instrumental in pushing the Motion Picture Academy to give a lifetime achievement award to writer-director Elia Kazan, who directed Malden in perhaps his best and most memorable role, that of Father Berry in “On the Waterfront.”

Kazan had been an outcast in Hollywood for several decades before the 1999 award, because of his opposition to communism. Malden’s support of him carried a great risk of ostracism by Hollywood’s political correctness police.

A measure of Malden’s integrity is that he was married to the same woman for seventy years and was surrounded by family members when he died.

By no means handsome or dashing, Malden was seen by critics as an Everyman type, but he did not settle for allowing his characters to be ordinary or dull. Having grown up in no privileged environment, he knew just how much strength it often took for ordinary people just to survive. Thus he invested his characters with real strength, regardless of whether the person was basically good or not. He succeeded purely on the strength of his acting ability and the availability of roles playing real adult human beings in real, dramatic stories.

Malden clearly made an effort to understand why his characters did what they did, and as a result his performances emphasize the characters’ freedom of moral choice and consequent moral responsibility for their actions. Thus his performances worked against the prevailing cultural notion that our actions are determined by our circumstances.

Malden had numerous memorable film roles, including Gen. Omar Bradley in “Patton,” the complex sheriff and former bank robber Dad Longworth in “One-Eyed Jacks,” the cuckolded husband in “Baby Doll,” the domineering father in “Fear Strikes Out” (an awful film), and of course as Lt. Mike Stone in the 1970s TV series “The Streets of San Francisco.”

Knowing full well what it would mean, it was Karl Malden, a former Academy President, who proposed and publicly pushed for Kazan to receive this long overdue tribute. And that, along with a 70-year marriage, says an awful lot about the man.

The actor was just as impressive. The simple way to describe him would be as a beefy everyman, but that too easily dismisses a natural and very real screen presence that made him one of the most recognizable faces in the country. Malden worked with some of the most powerful actors of the last fifty years, Brando, McQueen, George C. Scott, Burt Lancaster, and yet he never got lost in the scene. He knew how to watch another actor, he knew how to listen and this kept our eye on him as we waited for what he’d do next.

His voice was also distinctive; one second deep and rich with authority, but on a dime unspeakably cruel towards a Blanche DuBois or hilariously needy calling after Baby Doll. Malden had the range of a character actor but could carry a film as well as any matinee idol, and in a career that lasted six decades, inevitably there were duds, but you always felt in good hands when he arrived onscreen.

Malden’s performance as the domineering, perfectionist father of real-life baseball player Jimmy Piersall in “Fear Strikes Out” (1957) is the one that most stands out in my mind. John Piersall may be something of a monster, but Malden never lets us forget he’s also a man who lacks self-awareness. Even at his most cruel, Malden allows us to pity a father who might not wake up to the effects of his behavior until it’s a too late, and when this moment does arrive, thanks to the back-filling provided by a measured, nuanced performance, it is devastating and unforgettable.

A WWII veteran, Oscar and Emmy winner, Karl Malden died yesterday at home. He was 97.

I knew they were going to get punked! They were going to Punkedville! In fact, I was so sure of it, I was the one who broke the story in the US off the French wires to Drudge and Nikki Finke.  One Hollywood Jihadi PR roadside bomb detonated. War Is Hell.

Look at their trip from my POV. I remember the whole balls-to-the-wall anti-Apartheid campaign from the mid-eighties. ‘I Ain’t Gonna Play Sun City,’ remember? By the way, wasn’t Little Stevie great in that video? Love him! Point being, if the racist South African apartheid regime was unworthy of cultural exchange, why was the gay-hanging, women-stoning, child-executing, blogger-killing, hostage-taking fascist regime in Iran worthy of a gold-plated Academy PR kiss?

But let us start at the beginning. I first started dabbling in screenwriting about ten years ago. Had a couple successes with short stories in years before, but started getting some movie ideas. Lot less words, too. Way less typing. So I’m lazy, okay? I admit it! Anyway, I got my first real success in Hollywood out of the blue back in early 2005, with a script I’d been working on for five years. My first.

Did very well in amateur competitions all over. Even passed a gauntlet of judges comprised of some of the top talents in the industry. Made the Top Ten out of well over a thousand scripts submitted to that contest, and it was a Big One! Yahoo!

My first Hollywood Scream. From here in New Hampshire. Probably could have heard me in Hollywood, too! Anyway, it resulted in a couple jaunts to the Friendly Skies of A-List Red Carpet bashes at the WGA Theater as a screenwriting finalist. Open bar! Something else to Scream about! Rubbed elbows, did the whole Jed Clampett thing, you know? Total rube first trip out. Duh-h-h! But I thought I was a lock in Hollywood now.

Took me a year of grueling pitching and marketing to finally option my script. Have finished two since, one of which resulted in my own ill-advised tangling with my two coverage providers, with whom I strongly disagreed on their assessments of my Great American Screenplay.

Know better now. They’re in, I’m not. There’s a reason for that. Got it. Regardless of the difficulties, and the fact that my option has since lapsed (not unusual for this vicinity), my successes with amateur contests and an option had me feeling pretty good. Inspired me to go forward.

My coverage providers and I are now BFF. On the same page. They even say now my work is getting much better. Dialogue, in particular. And that’s okay. We seek progress, not perfection. And more open bars. By the way, as a conservative Republican, I was a little shaky heading into the Lair of the Beast. Though very excited over the Awards Galas, I somewhat feared that one wrong word could end my screenwriting career very quickly. In fact, I was ecstatic to discover a total disinterest in politics with all the people I met.

And they were ALL phenomenal people, especially all the ground-level types like me trying to take off. Actors and actresses, filmmakers, fellow writers. It was all about living life and the dream, all the time. Better than Viagra. I could have no higher opinion of the real worker bees in Hollywood. And a number of A-listers that were generous enough to give my Jed Clampett the time of day. And let us not forget the Open Bar. Screams all around!

Had even more Screams at the 2006 Screenwriting Expo, to which I got a great Gold Pass discount as a Semifinalist in their competition. Alas, no Open Bar. But a Human Circus Par Excellence!

So here I am in the present day, working on my fourth script, IMHO the best of the bunch, a contemporary, high-concept, low-to-medium budget screwball romantic comedy that is actually a loving tribute to the Oscars and the Academy itself. Really crazy stuff, but all in fun. Treated everyone special, the Academy in particular. And I could not have been more inspired by the story, the concept and the absolutely crazy characters I had populated it with.

See, what REALLY made the Academy special to me were board members like Karl Malden, Eva Marie Saint, Producer Kathleen Kennedy, even the Great Fonz, Henry Winkler. Loved their work, loved their efforts for the Academy, and just loved who they all were, and are. Cream of the Crop. It broke my heart to have to use the instrument of my Hollywood dreams as a weapon of war against them.

I don’t want to rehash all that. It’s beating a dead horse now.

But any Hollywood illusions I had about some of the top names in Show Biz being the human rights champions they claimed to be have been thoroughly shattered. Dustin Lance Black has been dead silent on Iran’s Gay Holocaust, Penn even worse. Not only was Mr. Penn sending flowery Mad Mullah PR dispatches from Tehran, the epicenter of today’s Auschwitz for Gays, back in 2005, he now pals around with Hugo Chavez even as gays are persecuted in Venezuela. Some hero. Like this article states correctly, Sean Penn may not be a gay rights advocate, but he plays one on TV.

Like Annette Bening praising women’s rights in Iran, both have done extraordinary damage to the cause of gay and women’s rights there. Not only did they completely overlook or ignore the real horrors of modern-day Islamist Iran for women and gays, they gave that extremist Hitlerite regime its PR blessings with not one word of condemnation. And Team Oscar is just as guilty as they are, giving theirs and the Academy’s PR blessing to today’s Third Reich. None could deserve it less.

They may say they separated politics from art (and have), but in an all-powerful Hitlerite regime, there is no separation of anything from ideology. Not only does Iran have a film industry worthy of Goebbels, they’ve even sentenced filmmakers to death for celluloid slanders!  Iranian-American filmmaker Esha Momeni is now awaiting trial in Iran on the same charges.

What makes Iran worthy of cultural exchange and South Africa not? South Africa wasn’t sentencing filmmakers to death or exterminating anyone. Certainly not the gays Hollywood Heroes like Penn and Black so profess to represent.

And I said I wasn’t going to beat a dead horse. I’m a writer! Whattaya want?

All that said, I do want to praise, rather than bury, some top-shelf Hollywood players who could not be more honorable in their outspoken, and out-of-pocket, humanitarian efforts to help the helpless and make the world a truly better place, at least for some.

Jim Carrey. Angelina Jolie. Brad Pitt. Matt Damon. Don Cheadle. Jerry Weintraub. George Clooney (though I am upset that he didn’t slam Team Oscar for staying in Iran during this) and father Nick. Mia Farrow. The list in Hollywood really is a long one.

And all that doesn’t even take into account all the Hollywood heroes to our heroes in uniform: Bruce Willis, Gary Sinise, Scarlett Johansson, Robert Davi, Ben Stiller, Robert Downey Jr. and Jack Black. Again, far too many to mention. But I thank them all. Cream of the Crop Every One!

But boy, are the bad apples really stinking up the joint! And you can tell who they are. They visit dictatorships to fawn over strongmen like stooges once fawned over Hitler. They praise systems or heroes that are abject failures or worse while denying or deriding our own worthy heroes and endeavors. They talk a great story, like Penn and Black, but all it takes is a few Google searches to sniff out the BS.

By the way, Venezuelan strongman Hugo Chavez kicked Human Rights Watch out of the country, but still welcomes with open arms Sean Penn, Danny Glover and Harry Belafonte. Don’t answer, it’s a rhetorical statement. Although I do believe now Mr. Penn will make a great Stooge. Practice makes perfect. You can call it the Stalinovsky Method.

So there it all is. This officially wraps Adventures in the Scream Trade. Tired of the bad screaming. Wishing for a lot more good. All things considered, I’m expecting a lot more of the former than the latter. I can only say Thank You to John Nolte and Andrew Breitbart et al here at Big Hollywood for giving me this forum to address you, My Dear Hollywood Readers and Fine Human Beings Everywhere, on the important issues of our day.

And how to know BS when you smell it. Hell, I’m choking on it. Stinks to the Hollywood Hills!

Champagne Wishes and Caviar Dreams!