A boring 'Blonde,' a lovely 'Temple'; Monroe tale suffers by comparison to child star story

Depressing, dreary and dull as dishwater-blond hair, "Blonde" - a weird meditation on the life of Marilyn Monroe - confirms that the networks have run out of ideas for programming their big ratings months. Not content to let Court TV and the other cable channels have a monopoly on grisly crime tales, CBS this season has treated viewers to miniseries on the Nicole Brown Simpson and JonBenet Ramsey murders. A&E was surely the inspiration for an ABC special that showed Judy Garland crawling into a bottle of pills. They weren't just stomach-turning but channel-turning, as viewers fled these would-be blockbusters. And now we have "Blonde." Based on the 2000 novel Blonde by Joyce Carol Oates, it co-stars Wallace Shawn, Griffin Dunne, Patrick Dempsey, Titus Welliver, Eric Bogosian and Richard Roxburgh. With the possible exception of Dunne's character, they're all creeps. Poppy Montgomery plays the long-suffering Norma Jeane Baker, Monroe's real name, whose victimhood begins in childhood when she's tormented by her loony mother (Patricia Richardson). It continues through four bleak hours of drug addiction, sexual and physical abuse, an abortion and a mysterious demise that is skipped over here. In the opening frame we are told that, though based on actual events, "Blonde" is "a work of fiction." Oates did that for literary reasons. "I was trying to give life to Norma Jeane Baker," she told an interviewer last year, adding that she decided the best way to do it was by writing "a posthumous narration by the subject." In other words, when we see Montgomery and other actors speaking to the camera - as happens throughout "Blonde" - it's after Baker has died. I know there's great symbolism in all this just from the few grim excerpts I've read of Oates' 738-page book. For instance, Baker's second husband, Joe DiMaggio (Welliver), is referred to in the movie only as "Slugger" - and don't you know, we soon find out why. (Slug 'er get it?) Arthur Miller (Dunne), whose marriage to Baker seemed genuinely happy at times, is simply called "The Playwright." Oates never calls these husbands by their real names in the book. See, it's that symbolism thing. If she could, Oates no doubt would've created a single male character: impotent at best, savagely cruel at worst. If you've read some of Oates' other books, you may recognize the barbarism, particularly toward women, of other novels (notably Black Water, a tale of the Chappaquiddick incident told from the viewpoint of Mary Jo Kopechne). The question is whether "Blonde" is fit for one of TV's biggest showcases - Sunday nights on CBS. Last week in this time period was that reliable heart-tugger, the "Hallmark Hall of Fame." On the other hand, "Child Star: The Shirley Temple Story," airing as tonight's "Wonderful World of Disney" on ABC, is based on a book virtually made for the small screen: Child Star, the 1988 autobiography of Shirley Temple Black's years in show biz. Frankly I'm surprised it wasn't adapted for TV sooner. Too bad it comes on before "Blonde." No one was better at making downhearted Americans feel good again than Shirley Temple, and there's enough of the spirit of Temple in "Child Star" to make viewers forget the supreme bummer of "Blonde." Ashley Rose Orr (why are they all named Ashley?) plays the 6-year-old starlet with the 56 hair curls and the unstoppable smile. Fittingly, she steals the show here, though Connie Britton of "Spin City" and Colin Friels do a fine job as her parents. In the book Black reveals that her parents naively trusted the big studio bosses and made mistakes when negotiating her seven-year deals. Yet Black also makes it clear that the bigwigs acted in Shirley's interest in contract negotiations. The head of Fox set aside a trust fund for her. Darryl Zanuck gave her a big raise and tried to make her offstage life as normal as possible. The complexity comes out in the screenplay by Joe Wiesenfeld. Shirley has her precocious moments but adapts remarkably well to her instant, runaway stardom. (At first the Temples received fan mail at home; when the load reached 4,000 letters a week, the studio took over.) Britton touches the right key in every conversation with the cigar-chompers. Friels is a loving dad who's not afraid to be tough - yet it's clear he's hiding a terrible secret that's revealed at the end. But the big surprise comes in the production numbers between Shirley and her "Uncle Bill," Bill "Bojangles" Robinson. Whereas the Monroe musical numbers in "Blonde" are obviously lip-synced, Hinton Battle as Bojangles is the real deal. He's a joy to watch. And if Orr is faking it as Shirley, I couldn't tell. This is exactly what 21st-century TV should be doing - making you want to rush out and rent videos of the original stars. And don't worry, parents: Dad's dark secret won't make you wish you hadn't let the kids watch "Child Star." The same can't be said of "Blonde." You can reach Aaron Barnhart through the TV Barn Web site at www.tvbarn.com. @ART CAPTION:"Blonde," starring Poppy Montgomery, airs at 8 p.m. today and Wednesday on Channel 5. @ART CREDIT:CBS @ART CAPTION:"Child Star: The Shirley Temple Story," starring Ashley Rose Orr, airs at 6 tonight on Channel 9. @ART CREDIT:ABC @ART:Photos (2, color) >>>