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One of the dangerous minds in "Confessions of a Dangerous Mind" belongs to Chuck Barris, the creator of such immortal television shows as "The Dating Game," "The Newlywed Game" and, lest we forget, "The Gong Show." His mind is dangerous in a bad way; it's pretty spooky.

The other belongs to George Clooney, who co-stars in the film and is making his directorial debut as well. His mind is dangerous in a good way; it's pretty mischievous. You're never sure when he's having you on and when he's not.

The movie is based on Barris' 1982 memoir of the same title, in which he claimed not only to have single-handedly masterminded the beginning of the end of Western civilization but also to have worked, during that same time, as a secret assassin for the CIA and killed 33 people. That explains, I guess, why "The Dating Game" couples he often chaperoned occasionally went to places like "glamorous West Berlin" or "fabulous Helsinki" in the dead of winter.

We first meet Barris (Sam Rockwell) standing naked and unshaven in a seedy hotel room, staring at the television while a maid vacuums around him. Being a game show host or a government killer or perhaps both have proved too much and he's suffered some sort of mental disconnect. Of course, one of the movie's main themes is that the whole CIA thing was either a mental disconnect or, more likley, Barris goofing around. The more seriously the movie treats his spy games as being true, the goofier it is.

Through flashbacks, we see how he got in that room, beginning with Barris as an obnoxious go-getter in the early '60s, looking for any rock to crawl under as long as it's stamped Showbiz. First, he writes a minor pop hit, "Palisades Park," which gets play on "American Bandstand." (Dick Clark is one of the real-life personalities — including, eventually, Barris himself — who comment on Barris.)

TV is next. Though he's initially rejected, it happens that his inspired vulgarity is exactly in sync with the American zeitgeist of the time. As he notes when "The Newlywed Game" becomes a hit: "Any American would sell out their spouse for a new refrigerator or washing machine. Such was the respect for the institution [of marriage]."

Everything's going swimmingly -- he's got the Hollywood pool to prove it -- when a mystery man named Jim Byrd (Clooney) recruits him to serve his country, veeery secretly.

While his loyal hippie-chick girlfriend, Penny (Drew Barrymore), waits for him at home, Barris is globe-trotting with a slinky femme fatale agent, played by Julia Roberts.

Meanwhile, back on TV, Barris seems to be having a coast-to-coast massive media breakdown — or maybe breakthrough — as the host of "The Gong Show," a program that was like a sendup of "American Idol" decades before there was an "American Idol."

Whirling around the stage in his own Chuck World, Barris appears to be on speed or grass or probably both. It's like watching someone's very public shock self-therapy.

Anyone who witnessed these bizarre demonstrations back in the day knows exactly how very good Rockwell is. Jazzing by himself on some corner of the set, his hat pulled down Sinatra style, or warbling along with a succession of abysmal singers, the actor provides the sort of acid flashback some of us really don't want to own up to.

Rockwell is wonderful throughout, capturing Barris' inherent sleaziness and insecurity as well as, well, the vision of the man who could be called the godfather of reality TV (though I'd like to consider his contributions more on the level of surreality TV).

Barrymore is adorable; you really have to see her show up in bell bottoms and peasant shirt and wiggling, "I'm a hippie, man!"

Roberts is ever so slightly miscast — she's just too likable to do the Mata Hari thing. But she's having so much fun that you can't help having fun, too.

The one having the most fun of all, however, is Clooney. He certainly is as agent Byrd, with his silvery (not graying) hair, dapper mustache and clipped, dead-serious Joe Friday line readings. This is CIA spook as a maitre d' at an expensive restaurant or maybe an older actor on a long-running soap opera.

Is he real? That's where Clooney really rocks. As director, he toys with the movie's is-he-or-isn't-he coyness outrageously. He's clearly paid attention while acting for such talents as the Coen brothers or Steven Soderbergh.

His direction is nimble and imaginative — especially visually, which is not something one usually associates with actors-turned-directors. Plus, there's Clooney's Rat Pack-ish insider's verve; not only is Roberts hanging around, but he's got old pals Matt Damon and Brad Pitt as "Dating Game" rejects.

The script is by the cleverest writer in Hollywood, Charlie Kaufman ("Adaptation"). He and Clooney don't give a Rat Pack's butt whether Barris was truthful, delusional or just goofing off on the American public, as he so famously liked to do. They treat his supposed escapades as if they were spinning a tall tale. Who cares if Davy Crockett actually grinned a bear out of a tree or Geroge Washington couldn't tell a lie? The pleasure comes in telling the tale, getting people going, getting them to enjoy themslves.

Sure, it's a movie about nothing; wasn't that why we loved "Seinfeld"? Besides, what does it matter what something — I mean, someone — like Barris is or is not? Don't you want to share his epiphany in the underground grotto at the Playboy Mansion?