ICH BIN EIN MAGAZINE EDITOR

By BRUCE HANDY

An era when more and more Americans are claiming to be repelled by politicians--an era when even politicians say they're repelled by politicians--would hardly seem an auspicious time to launch a self-described "fan magazine" about politics, a Rolling Stone for the arts of governance and electioneering. But here it is: George, a slick bimonthly named for our nation's first President. More memorable than the twee title is the name at the top of George's masthead: John F. Kennedy Jr., a former assistant district attorney who is now Manhattan's most glamorous editor in chief, Tina Brown and Anna Wintour notwithstanding.

He's also a selling point. Last year Kennedy and partner Michael J. Berman, both editorial novices, brought their "postpartisan" concept to Hachette Filipacchi, a publishing company whose executives were impressed enough to sink $20 million into the enterprise. Since then, George has been stirring the same sort of buzz among journalists that Waterworld generated in Hollywood: a golden boy--maybe not the brightest fellow in town--seemed to be in way over his head on a slightly nutty project, and a delicious disaster was probably in the offing.

Well, George's first issue was introduced at a packed press conference last Thursday (copies will hit newsstands Sept. 26), and the Waterworld parallel holds. George, it turns out, is pretty decent, by turns knowing and witty. But the question remains: Can a glossy, expensive-looking magazine devoted to profiling the likes of former Democratic National Committee chair David Wilhelm justify the big investment and an initial press run of 500,000 (an optimistic figure that would give George a circulation roughly equal to Details').

The cover, a Herb Ritts photo of Cindy Crawford decked out as a bare-navel George Washington, could put off anyone--it's an image that doesn't so much suggest a new and insouciant political magazine as it does a Bicentennial-era issue of Cosmopolitan. Fortunately, George is mostly uphill from there. One piece analyzes the leaking styles of various Clinton Administration officials; another offers a wonderful series of photos from New Hampshire in which a Pete Wilson operative snatches a BOB DOLE button off the shirt of a child who is posing with the Californian.

The slightly creepy centerpiece is a Q. & A. between Kennedy and a deaf, pain-wracked George Wallace (the disturbing photos, again by Ritts, testify to Wallace's discomfort). The interview isn't particularly informative; rather, it's fascinating as an encounter between two very different American icons. Kennedy's nervy if occasionally J-schoolish questions annoy Wallace; the unforthcoming replies stymie Kennedy. Q. "Do you think we'll see a black man elected President in your lifetime?" A. "Well, my lifetime is very short--I'm 75 years old. So, no..."

What George lacks is a point of view. In his editor's letter, Kennedy writes, "[W]e suspect that Americans want to know more about the people who seek to govern and less about the correctness of their politics." It's an odd observation, given the common complaint that the media focus on personalities and campaign strategy while ignoring actual ideas. The editor thinks otherwise: "Politics has migrated into the realm of popular culture, and folks can't turn away." Or can they? With campaign malaise setting in more than a year before the next national election--yum! more Gramm!--Kennedy has his work cut out for him.