While women, blacks, minorities and other second-class citizens in this great land vie for crumbs from Hollywood's table, isn't it fun to read Jack Mathews' puff piece about our $60-million white male movie star's exploits, girlfriends, toys and other gratifications? The adulatory tone of the article was positively sickening, given the fact that Nicholson's acting has far more to do with bravado and image than any real work on character, and he's basically played the same role--himself--in every picture he's ever appeared in.
The article was practically a textbook on the arrogance of stardom: the string of cars, the ostensible worship by former co-workers, the parts he's gotten for his bedmates. Naturally, as do the offspring of other "stars," his daughter also gets a facilitated entree into show business.
Mathews makes the stars' philandering sound practically poetic ("enough dalliances to quench the fires below") and typically challenges Nicholson on nothing. Well, you don't get lucrative writing assignments from The Times being a troublemaker, I guess.
JOANNE G. MURPHY