for restoration of the area. It would haventhe obligation to manage in a mannernthat enhances the ecological integrity ofnthe area while providing opportunitiesnfor sustainable businesses.nThink of this board as a publicninterest foundation representing bothnlocal and national interests. It wouldnbuild on more than eight hundred yearsnof common law experience with trustnrelationships involving colleges, hospitals,nand museums, extending this wellestablishednframework into a new ecologicalnarena. (Local and national landntrusts such as the Nature Conservancynhave already provided a model for restoringnabused ecosystems like IslandnPark.) This new management wouldnoperate under a congressional directive.nIt would combine elements of the newnfederalism embodied in the NorthwestnPower Planning Act, and a board ofntrustees such as that responsible fornoverseeing the Smithsonian Museumnand Colonial Williamsburg.nAmerica’s Founding Fathers and ournfirst foreign chronicler, Alexis denTocqueville, well understood that nonsingle set of institutional arrangementsnis appropriate for all tasks. Profit and lossnoriented corporations, by their very nature,ngive their managers incentives tondiscount costs and benefits not immediatelynreflected on the balance sheet.nElected politicians and governmentalnbureaucrats are notoriously shortsightednand provincial in their outlook, discountingnresults beyond the next electionnand impacts outside their jurisdiction.nBut the nonprofit public interestncorporation we propose, the Island ParknEcological Endowment Board, can bencarefully designed to avoid incentivesnthat give rise to the above pathologiesnand to maximize the restoration ofnYellowstone’s ecological heritage.nJohn Baden is chairman of thenFoundation for Research in Economicsnand the Environment in Bozeman,nMontana, and Seattle. Ron Coopernworks for The Wilderness Societynin Bozeman, and RamonanMarotz-Baden teaches at MontananState University.n46/CHRONICLESnFILMnPlaying WithnWickednessnby David R. SlavittnHenry and JunenScreenplay by Philip Kaufman andnRose KaufmannDirected and produced bynPhilip KaufmannReleased by MiramaxnTune in TomorrownScreenplay by William BoydnDirected by Jon AmielnProduced by John Feidler andnMark TarlovnReleased by Cinecom EntertainmentnReversal of FortunenScreenplay by Nicholas KazannDirected by Barbet SchroedernProduced by Edward R. Pressmannand Oliver StonenReleased by Warner BrothersnThere is a certain rightness to thenway it turned out, with Henry andnJune being the first movie to get thennew “NC-17” rating (which meansnthat no children under the age of 17nare admitted, parents or guardians ornno). But any grown-ups above the agenof 22 or so should be warned away,nwhich leaves the film with a verynnarrow spectrum for its tepid appeal.nThere is lots of writhing and lots ofndeclamahon, and we are reminded innboth instances how sublimely stupidnHenry Miller and Anais Nin were.nLegends, • admittedly, but their actualnnnaccomplishments were miniscule, justnas their ruttings seem now diminishednby the passage of time. Flower childrennavant la lettre, they spent a great dealnof energy posturing and, in a weirdnway, were successful at it. Posturing, asnAndy Warhol was later to demonstrate,ncan outweigh achievement and is elevennpoints in publicity’s law. Miller andnNin were in the right place at the rightntime, with just the right dopey earnestnessnto take in those literary journalistsn»n whose mistakes became the historians’n^ truths. The books of both were drearync and their lives were impossibly tedious.n•^ I found myself, therefore, admiringnHenry and June for the first twentynminutes or so. Fred Ward’s HenrynMiller is impressively crude and lunkheaded.nHe and his wife (UmanThurman is June Miller) speak with anheavy Brooklyn accent that makes theirngoofy comments even goofier: “Younwere supposed to be a Dusty Yevsky!”nshe complains, and I thought it wasnhilarious and that the movie was distancingnitself from its subject—a bold,nunusual, and therefore interestingnthing to do. But that expectation ofnmine turns out to have been eitherndelusional or else they toyed with it andnthen gave it up for the surer rewards ofna quasi-respectable or at least pretentiousnsoft-core romp. Soft-core pornographersnhave better sense, though, andndon’t intersperse their gropings withnlong sequences that attempt to makeninteresting what is clearly the mostnboring human activity in the universento watch — somebody typing. We seenHenry Miller typing what will one daynbecome Tropic of Cancer, and wenwatch him do this with his hat on, hisnhat off, his ashtray empty, and hisnashtray full. We see him pull a sheet ofnpaper out of the typewriter and read itnwith dissatisfaction; we see him flick anlarge cockroach off the top of a pile ofncompleted manuscript pages; we seenhim pull another sheet of paper outnand read this page with pleasure (whichnpage, we wonder, might this havenbeen?).nEvery two or three hours I wouldnlook at my watch to see that anothernfew minutes had elapsed. Without thenpressures of censorship — which isnwhat gave the Tropics an almost purelynextrinsic interest — there is preciousnlittie left. Stupid remarks about writingnand art do not justify or redeem evenn