In 21st century America, it is of course unnecessary to say that respect for humanity has taken its rightful place atop the list of tenets by which we live. Why, even your twenty-year-old manager at “Chickn Skinz” with two hyperactive children, an overweight spouse, a drug problem and no self-esteem knows he must subordinate his suicidal notions to ensure that his employees are treated with dignity and respect.

Yet in Hollywood, some have apparently yet to learn the lesson by which the rest of the country lives. It’s no stretch to imagine directors sixty years ago such as John Ford repeatedly putting their actors in physical danger or berating their skills in front of others so as to elicit the emotion necessary to capture that perfect shot. But today, for whatever reason, that lesson is only slowly taking hold in Tinseltown, a place where one would expect such values to have taken root long ago.

Which is why we were so glad to hear the accolades being foisted upon director Cameron Crowe. The helmer’s trademark style of putting his actors at ease has generated some of recent Hollywood’s most celebrated screen characters. Who else but a nurturing mentor could have taken Tom Cruise, worn down and nearly bankrupt from years of mistreatment at the hands of brutish directors who forced him to make awful, unsuccessful films, and coaxed him back to super-stardom in “Jerry McGuire,” where he was finally able to achieve the fame and fortune he deserved? It’s no wonder, then, that the heretofore desperate stars of Crowe’s new film “Elizabethtown” are reacting as though they’ve been given new life.

Kirsten Dunst was already famous, rich and beautiful when she signed on to “Elizabethtown,” but says she took the role for the chance to get the one thing she and all other actors clamor for: respect.

“Cameron is like a friend,” says Dunst from the comfort of her personal trailer. “I go to the set and my favorite music is playing. Between takes he’s making sure I’m comfortable and relaxed. It’s hardly like work at all.” Were it not for directors such as Crowe, of whom there are admittedly few, she says, “acting would be a real chore.” Indeed, Crowe was not the slightest bit miffed at the late arrival on set by Dunst who had been forced to personally telephone Los Angeles to ask a friend to call her assistant to notify her maid to fire her dog-walker.

In addition to the rigors of being told what to wear, what to say, where to stand, when to show up and occasionally having their picture taken, movie stars certainly don’t need the added stress of having a grumpy boss. “E-town” star Orlando Bloom adheres to this philosophy, saying that having a boss who’s also a friend gave him a taste of the kind of professional working atmosphere the rest of America has been enjoying for so long. Occasionally giggling due to the inexperience of his pedicurist, Bloom tells how a previous film set was fraught with tension because the director was less than friendly.

“He only wanted to do things his way. He didn’t want any input from the actors and treated us like ignorant underlings. Can you imagine how that made me feel? If corporate America was run that way, the people would riot and the very structure of our society would come unraveled. It’s a marvel that Hollywood manages to function at all.”

Shuttled to the set on an immense downy pillow resting atop an ivory chariot guided by God’s own angels so as not to accost the star with the slightest bump or bruise, Bloom is lifted into a chair where he undergoes the tortuous ordeal of having makeup applied. This excruciating but necessary evil not only makes the sex-symbol’s skin appear flawless, but reminds the viewing audience just how gruesome and shameful our own normal visages are when compared to our Hollywood betters.

Even those with smaller roles in the film, such as “Sexiest Woman Alive” Jessica Biel, are enamored of the director. Biel, whose perfect body is the object of envy and lust worldwide, said working for so long with no reward other than fame and riches had taken its toll, making her all the more grateful for the chance to work with Crowe. “He just naturally puts you at ease,” said Biel, who still received millions of dollars for her role even though her actual screen time was cut to less than one second and consists solely of the partial line “Sni…” “He really cares about his actors, unlike some directors. I’ve been on movies where the only way I could make it through the day was to remind myself that afterwards I could escape to my house of spun gold in the Hollywood hills where I would bathe in a pool of rejuvenating tears from the mythical Phoenix. And even then I sometimes had trouble shrugging off the memory of the literally two hours I’d spent slaving on that set.”

At the end of it all, the coddling, hand-holding and ego-stroking the rest of us take for granted at work is sure to result in a motion picture people will revere for decades. For all of their hard work - speaking for several seconds at a time, rushing from the set after each take to prevent the camera lights from damaging their God-given beauty, and perhaps even deigning to sign an autograph for one of the very vermin who forks over ten percent of his weekly paycheck for a ticket that helps justify their own orgiastic pay days – these actors will be rewarded with a gift far beyond the money, drugs, rampant sex and freedom from personal responsibility they already enjoy. They will receive the gift of a beautiful memory, one that will last a lifetime, or at least until the film is panned by critics and they are forced to save face by blaming Crowe for his lack of vision. Until that time, though, their surgically modified titanium super-hearts will be warmed by the memory of the brief, shining moment when they were at last treated like the rest of us.