Column: Hot off the press

12/04/08 - Normally, Cigar editorial space is reserved for serious matters like education, homelessness and biting comments about the U.S. government. As editor-in-chief, I feel obligated to comment on these topics of utmost importance on various occasions.But let me just say, that while I've obviously been keeping tabs on everything from the New York Times' foreign affairs reports to the Providence Journal's local color (Cranston High Schools East and West came together under one roof to produce High School Musical? What is this world coming to?) what I'm about to admit to a rather large audience is something both shameful and incontrovertible: I can't stop thinking about Britney Spears and her comeback.

Oops, sorry, Britney. I forgot you don't like the word "comeback"-obviously you never went away.right.

Honestly, MTV couldn't have picked a worse time to air "Britney: For the Record," the real-life documentary of Britney Spears' comeba-I mean, life-leading up to her new album, Circus.

Here I am, trying to study for my upcoming final exams (see today's editorial for good studying tips, one of them being to ignore distractions like this one) and I'm receiving promises from Ms. Spears herself that she's going to spill her guts about it all-Justin, Kevin, stupid decisions, the Britney babies-everything.

After the final episode of "Total Request Live," there was a half-hour special promoting her documentary, with clips from behind the scenes of her new music video and a bunch of former teenyboppers expressing their undying love for the pop superstar.

"For the record" previews suggested that everything would be laid out on the table for us, and even though I can honestly say I haven't donned the Catholic school girl skirt since at least 2001, my curiosity soared.

Also, with all of this talk about coming back lean and clean, who wouldn't want to know the reason behind her mental breakdown?

The answer? Not in the documentary.

After all of that waiting, all of that staring at my books hopelessly while contemplating: "Do I dare watch?" the Titanic might as well have sunken again and dragged my brazen love of '90s pop music with it.

The film is an hour of vague, self-deprecating "confessions" about her personality flaws and depression. It was like the first time you watched "Blair Witch Project"-the whole time you're thinking things like "Is this really happening?" "Why did I pay to see this movie?" and "Oh, who the hell am I kidding? I can't rip my eyes from the screen." It was something along those lines, with the exception of more hair extensions and better dance beats.

If anything, all the movie did was prove how unstable she really is, and to make matters worse, mommy and daddy Spears are all about pushing the blond train wreck straight into a world tour. Somebody needs a how-to book on parenting. But that's no shock to most.

She doesn't go into detail about her breakup with Justin, and while surprisingly she puts the Kevin Federline break-up at the top of her shit list, she gives very little detail about why they broke up. Most of the documentary was spent toiling over her longstanding feud with the paparazzi and repeating herself. Loneliness, paparazzi, rinse, repeat. And then sometimes there's a shout out to her kids.

The mysterious man behind the lens seemed to try a journalistic approach to the film, but it's obvious he didn't ask hard enough questions. This was Britney's movie, bitch, not some intense truth-telling saga like documentaries are supposed to be.

And I can't believe these words are appearing in print but, despite it all, I'm on Team Britney.

Yes, your eyes don't need checking and I don't need to make a trip to the URI Counseling Center. I'm serious.

Because even though it was obvious she was crying for a pity party, I can't help but feel bad for the girl. She might be messed up on drugs, but what great entertainer wasn't? I wouldn't go as far to compare her against the likes of the great Led Zeppelin, The Beatles or Elton John ("Bennie and the Jets," anyone?) but she still has this astonishing ability to make the best dance beats I've ever heard.

Many a night I've been caught speeding down Route 108 to "Womanizer" at maximum volume in my car, at least enough to drown out my pitchy-at-best vocal chords.

As long as she doesn't turn out like Brian Wilson from The Beach Boys (I'm still trying to figure out that mess-his last solo album sounds like it was sung in a foreign tongue), I think Britney will do just fine.

Besides, isn't she "stronger than yesterday?" At least she seems to think so, and that's the first step toward overcoming her problems. The next is growing her hair back, but like most things in life that are worthwhile, that takes time.