About midway through Carol Reed's 1949 classic "The Third Man," Orson Welles and Joseph Cotten engage in a philosophical discussion atop a giant Ferris wheel in Vienna. Welles' Harry Lime is calmly explaining to a skeptical Cotten that making a healthy profit by selling tainted penicillin on the black market is not as bad as sounds.

"Like the fella says, in Italy for 30 years under the Borgias, they had warfare, terror, murder and bloodshed, but they also produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci and the Renaissance," Welles says. "In Switzerland, they had brotherly love -- they had 500 years of democracy and peace -- and what did that produce? The cuckoo clock."

While that gleefully cynical worldview -- the late screenwriter Graham Greene insisted that the speech was Welles' creation -- is difficult to take seriously given the context, it raises a fascinating question that undoubtedly will be debated for generations: Do troubled times produce better art?

If the discussion is narrowed to American film, then the answer might well be yes. From the first Golden Age that emerged from the shadows of World War I and the Great Depression to the fears and anxieties of post-World War II America that gave birth to film noir, social unrest arguably makes for more-compelling cinema.

A spate of recent and upcoming feature releases -- including Universal's "Jarhead," Warner Independent Pictures' "Good Night, and Good Luck" and Warner Bros. Pictures' "North Country" and "Syriana" -- suggest that Hollywood again might be mining our troubled political climate for source material. Citing as examples 1940's "The Grapes of Wrath" and 1976's "All the President's Men," Ricky Strauss, president of Participant Prods. -- executive producers of "Good Night" and "Syriana" and co-producers of "Country" -- downplays the notion that a discernible politically motivated movement is afoot, adding that the U.S. boasts a rich legacy of socially conscious filmmaking.

"Hollywood has had a long history of making socially relevant (and) politically minded movies," Strauss says. "(U.S. cinema) has always embraced good ideas that are well-told."

While that might be true, the mission statement displayed prominently on Participant's Web site -- "Changing the world one story at a time" -- suggests that a sense of idealism has crept back into Hollywood for the first time in decades.

No era underscores this principle of social change through cinema more than the 1970s. With Hollywood responding to upheaval -- specifically the conflict in Vietnam and the Watergate scandal -- the seemingly endless roster of major directors and landmark films that emerged during that decade is well-documented.

While "President's Men," 1978's "Coming Home," 1979's "Apocalypse Now" and other '70s movies addressed issues of the time head-on, comedies, thrillers and even horror films had political subtexts as well. Whether through Bud Cort and Ruth Gordon rejecting conventional notions of romance in 1971's "Harold and Maude," Jack Nicholson losing his battle against wealth and corruption in 1974's "Chinatown" (not to mention the defeat he suffers at the hands of 'the establishment' in 1975's "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest") or even Sigourney Weaver's plight in 1979's "Alien" -- she not only defeats a lethal killing machine from space but also fights off an android programd to do the bidding of an ominous off-screen corporation -- the restless zeitgeist of the '70s made its way to movie screens with unprecedented regularity, and by most accounts American cinema achieved a vitality that hasn't been seen before or since.

During the 1980s -- Oliver Stone notwithstanding -- the era of gritty, politically charged filmmaking gave way to special-effects extravaganzas, teen comedies and feel-good buddy pictures. Even Vietnam, the biggest target of filmmaking scorn during the previous decade, was reimagined for a new generation by Rambo and Chuck Norris. Biting social commentary seemed anathema during the "blockbuster age."

Three decades after Vietnam and Watergate, though, the American political landscape is experiencing deja vu: A Republican White House is embroiled in a scandal, and an increasingly complex war is dividing the nation while drawing comparisons to Vietnam. Can a return to overtly political filmmaking be far behind?

Stephen Gaghan, writer-director of "Syriana" -- a sprawling, densely plotted look at the international oil trade -- says he is not particularly fond of being labeled a "political filmmaker."

"I don't think politics have much place in films," he says flatly. "I think politics and 'political thinking' is pretty much the last refuge of scoundrels and, almost always, second-rate art."

Similarly, "Country" screenwriter Michael Seitzman contends that despite the political subject matter of his sexual-harassment drama, he was not driven by an agenda other than a desire to interpret and respond to a heightened political climate.

"I think topical films get made when the issues that dominate the news begin to dominate the dinner table," Seitzman says. "Filmmakers have a dinner table, too, and when there is so much going on in the world, you want to feel like you're doing more than just selling popcorn -- you want to try and add to a larger dialogue than the one on your computer screen."

Awards season customarily brings the release of "important" movies, but amid the nation's increasingly polarized political environment, many of this year's issue pictures share an undeniable sense of timeliness and urgency. Critics have been quick to note that the polarization depicted in "Good Night" parallels the manner in which today's media sector often intersects Washington, Hollywood and Wall Street.

In the film, famed CBS newsman Edward R. Murrow (David Strathairn) comes under fire from his corporate bosses during the late 1950s when he unapologetically questions the methods of vehement anti-Communist Sen. Joe McCarthy.

George Clooney, who directed and co-wrote "Good Night," says he was careful to avoid the very polemics that marked the McCarthy/Murrow showdown.

"I try to pay attention to everybody's point of view," says Clooney, who also plays a supporting role as Murrow's dedicated producer, Fred Friendly. "I happen to disagree with a tremendous amount of conservative points of view, but I also found that the only way to make 'Good Luck' was to take all of the conservative views that are out there -- (that) McCarthy was right about Communists (and that) Murrow did some editorializing -- and put them in the film, rather than ignore them."

Clooney also stars in "Syriana" as a troubled CIA operative involved in a murky plan to assassinate an Arab prince. Amid rising oil prices and the current conflict in Iraq, the film's complex look at an internecine world of spies, sheiks and oil barons could not be more prescient.

While it could be argued that "Syriana" (and, to some extent, "Good Night") presents a harshly critical take on a world governed all too often by corruption and self-interest, Clooney claims that the issues explored in the film stem from a need to make sense of an increasingly complex geopolitical landscape in which old rules do not necessarily apply.

"Basically, the point of it is this: We are at war, and we are at war not with a state that we can bomb the hell out of but with an ideal -- and you've got to understand that ideal," he says. "You have to understand why people are willing to kill themselves to kill us and why they're willing to do such horrible things; otherwise, we are doomed to forever try to bomb an ideal out of someone. ... So it's about trying to understand it, and that means taking a hard look at all of our involvement."

Gaghan echoes Clooney's big-picture view of "Syriana," but his reasons for making the movie might surprise those who would suspect a traditionally activist agenda.

"It sounds hokey, but I love the USA, first and foremost," he says. "The buildings came down on (Sept. 11), and I went into shock. ... In the 'numb '90s,' it seemed like capitalism and democracy had won, and there was nothing to worry about, ever again, except stock options and shopping. Now, (there is) an uber-villain out there, a virulent totalitarian strain of thinking that is religion-based (and) completely anti-American. I wondered: What are we up against? Why do these people hate us? What does this mean not only for me but also for my children?"

Seitzman adds that despite the film industry's long-standing reputation as a haven for left-leaning politics, movies like "Country" often fall victim to the labeling and name-calling that have become hallmarks of an increasingly combative relationship between Hollywood and its political adversaries.

"I feel like people misconstrue liberalism as populism when it comes to Hollywood," he says. "Movies are a populist art form; they have to be because they require so many people to embrace them in order for them to make a profit. Conservatives will often purposely confuse (liberalism with populism) because it serves their agenda. 'North Country' is not liberal or conservative; it's about the right to work, the right to make a living, the right to feed your family (and) the right to live free in a just society, regardless of the color of your skin. That is a populist message that applies to Democrats, Republicans and anyone else who wants to be treated equally."

Adds Gaghan: "Although I live in California now, I spent most of my life in Kentucky: I'm from the middle class on the middle of the block in a middle-of-the-road state in the dead center of the country. My parents still live in Kentucky, and there's no great gap between what they want and what I want: fiscal responsibility, a safe world for my children, less torture done in my name and the name of democracy (and) moral as well as strategic leadership. I think before you declare war on terror, you should first declare it on fear and misunderstanding because by the time I get to terror, I'm utterly useless."

Still, amid the "culture war" to which cable TV pundits frequently refer, one must wonder how the current crop of politically charged films will play in the red states. Boxoffice to date has been mixed: "Country" has been something of a disappointment, taking in only $17.4 million despite a wide release, but "Good Night" appears to be benefiting from strong reviews and word-of-mouth, having grossed about $14.5 million in limited release. "Jarhead" has been the group's strongest performer, taking in $46.5 million during its first 10 days in theaters.

Warner Independent president Mark Gill believes that after a recent domestic boxoffice slump that saw even big-budget action films underperform, the time is right to take more risks.

"What I think everybody can see is that retreads don't work," he says. "Whether it's the silly penguin movie (Warner Independent's hit documentary 'March of the Penguins') or 'Good Night, and Good Luck' or (New Line's hit comedy) 'Wedding Crashers,' all of those were really distinctive, original movies that were satisfying. I think because those worked, everybody now realizes ... (that) we have to do something different -- and this is where the opportunity (to make challenging films) comes in."

William Broyles Jr., who adapted for the big screen former U.S. Marine Anthony Swofford's best-selling 2003 book "Jarhead" -- a memoir of the 1991 Persian Gulf War -- notes that while the movie has an unavoidable political subtext because of its subject matter, audiences are responding based on its entertainment value, not its ideology.

"I think 'Jarhead' is deeply political precisely because we were so careful not to try to confirm anyone's preconceived political beliefs about what's going on now," says Broyles, adding that "Jarhead" is performing particularly well in theaters near military bases. "Anyone who has been in the military will immediately recognize themselves and get it: My 81-year-old stepfather said it took him right back to what it was like being a 20-year-old B-24 pilot in World War II, (and) my son said his Special (Operations) team members thought it spoke powerfully to them about what it's like being in the military now. ... I think Americans are hungry to be allowed to see something that is simply trying to be true and not trying to force them into certain political conclusions."

As for whether Hollywood is headed toward a '70s-like openness to issue-oriented cinema, Broyles is quick to cite a need for balance, adding that moviegoers traditionally look to the big screen for escape, not instruction.

"For me, you have to be careful about trying to be too topical," he says. "By definition, the present is a moving target; if you're trying to pin the tail on the donkey, you can take three years to make a movie and find the donkey has turned into a duck. Sometimes it takes time and perspective to understand things, but we are living now ... in troubled times, so I think we could use both movies that help us understand and also movies that help us laugh or remind us of innocence and joy."

Gaghan echoes that sentiment, adding that his desire to tell compelling stories will always trump his politics. "Politics is only interesting in how it's rooted in the choices that define an individual," he says. "To the degree that the macro echoes the micro, politics is interesting. (But) drama is about emotion; it's about seemingly tiny choices that have large consequences. Only occasionally does this intersect with politics."