J K Simmons

that too-easy metaphor for beer-swilling, flag-waving, gay-marriage-hating, Iraq-war-supporting denizens of the South -- isn't supposed to make you cry. And so it is with some confusion about my manhood that I inform you I wept a little during "3," an ESPN original movie about the auto racing legend Dale Earnhardt that premieres Saturday night at 9. I went to an Earnhardt race once, the Southern 500 in Darlington, S.C., and I was not reduced to tears.

He says it with a voice so near and dear, Vin Scully meaning so much to so many while the team no longer does. "It's time for Dodger baseball," and yet Monday was dedicated to the battle looming between Bud Selig and Frank McCourt . Friday belonged to Judge Scott Gordon , Jamie and Frank McCourt, and a whole lot of lawyers. PHOTOS: TheDodgers and the McCourts Ever since the McCourts announced their separation during the team's 2009 playoff run against Philadelphia, the focus onDodgers baseball has shifted to the errors the McCourts have made.

Neil Simon's one-liners have never been more appropriate than in "Laughter on the 23rd Floor." The play at the Doolittle Theatre is about a bunch of comedy writers--stray quips go with the territory. The characters frequently salute their own jokes with the exclamation "Ba-dum-bum." Before the evening is over, there are a lot of these verbal rim shots. And there's also a lot of laughter.

Despite a history as long as humanity itself, erotica remains a dangerous and delicate area of interest. Subjectivity rears its head with special intensity, especially where eroticism merges with the art world. The line between prurience and sensuality, between aesthetics and baser provocations, is a thin blue one. Coming away from "Erotikos," the current celebration of erotic/artistic instincts at Art City II, you leave with an ambivalent impression.

The timing couldn't have been better for a romantic comedy with a love-among-the-financial-ruins theme to come along. But if you're looking for a welcome mat for "New in Town," you won't find it here. The new comedy starring Renee Zellweger and Harry Connick Jr. is flat, the romance is listless, the pacing is sluggish, and the fish-out-of-water flops -- flip-flop, flip-flop, I can hear it still.

Gary Archer Dental technician Specialty: Providing dental prosthetics for movies, television and commercials. Latest project: Creating J.K. Simmons' choppers in "Spider-Man 2." What the job entails: "It takes me 15 minutes to take a set of impressions. I do on-the-set consultations and do fittings either here or in my studio," he says. "I also travel all over America and Canada and England."

After the coffee. Before figuring out who forgot to send me a valentine. The Skinny: I'm in D.C., where a tiny bit of snow and rain has frozen the roads and created distress. In my youth that meant snow day! Now it's just a pain in the you-know-what. Thursday's headlines include Time Warner looking to unload many of its magazines and a review of the new "Die Hard" movie. Daily Dose: Actor J.K. Simmons is doubling down on his TV options. Set to star in an ABC mid-season comedy called "Family Tools," he has now also been cast in a new NBC sitcom in development for next season.

In a perfect world, every theatrically released movie would have the exact same chance to compete each year for the Academy Award in its worthiest categories. But just like with the lottery, you have to play to win, and when it comes to the Oscars, many smaller, independently made films just can't afford to play. Fortunately, as a Times film reviewer, Netflix devotee and overall movie junkie, I see a number of strong features each year that fly so far under Hollywood's radar as to barely exist.

Do you believe that the pitcher's mound is "the loneliest spot in the world"? Do you consider "The Kid From Tomkinsville" the greatest novel ever written? When an athlete says the only time his heart's been truly broken was when his team lost the pennant in 1987, do you nod your head in sympathy? "For Love of the Game" has your name on it.

A couple of years ago, Diablo Cody called her parents in suburban Chicago to tell them she was getting her first book published. That was the good news. "Then I have to say, 'Wait, the book is about something that I did for a year that I didn't tell you about, that will horrify you,' " recounts the author. "My mom started guessing. I guess the term 'crack dealer' came up."