(FORTUNE Magazine) – Woody Allen is stronger on comedic drama than public policy. We first gravitated to that cautious judgment 20 years ago, when he briefly walked out ) on the Broadway production of Play It Again, Sam to protest the Vietnam war, and we find naught but confirmation in his more recent remarks on film colorization. Testifying before Congress, Woody said colorized black-and-white films are ''cheesy.'' In a more theological vein, he added that the ''philistines'' responsible for them are ''sinful.'' As you have doubtless noticed, the anticolorizers have landslide support among the glitterati. George Lucas, Steven Spielberg, Jimmy Stewart, Burt Lancaster, and Ginger Rogers are among those stating that owners of old movies should not be allowed to chromatize them. If there is an Academy Award winner who ever heard of property rights, he has not yet surfaced in the debate. The case being made by the glamourpersons depends heavily on three lunatic notions: (1) that colorization is somehow causing the black-and-white versions to be destroyed; (2) that movie fans are somehow being euchred out of their right to see the great old classics in the original, which they would presumably prefer; and (3) that the actors, directors, and screenwriters who worked on those originals have a ''moral right'' to prevent the present owners from changing them. With respect to (1), the fact is that colorization does not involve any change to the original film. Some of those old films are indeed dying of celluloidal old age, but they are totally unaffected by the coloring process, which takes place on tapes of the movie, not on film. The implicit thought behind (2) is that elite artistes are better judges of the market than businessmen who have their own moola on the line. But the ideological heart of the argument is (3), the moral rights doctrine. As applied to colorization, the doctrine means that artists who have worked on salary -- or possibly under contract but without a contractual equity in the final product -- just naturally have an equity anyway. To colorize the film they helped create, the owner would need their permission. In its most extreme form, the moral rights doctrine is being applied even to films made many years ago and now residing in film libraries for which some capitalists -- Ted Turner, for example -- have paid through the teeth. You would think this idea would be laughed out of Congress, but the reality is otherwise. We have been unable to find a single solon, elephant or donkey, who is willing to buck the stars and state firmly that moral rights is baloney. Congress is in fact revving up right now to decide just how far it ) will go in supporting moral rights. It will probably not spring for the extreme form; the best bet is that legislation will affect only films made in the future. But wait: Why does Congress need to do anything at all? If the actors and directors want to retain residual rights in the films they make, why can't they -- or their unions -- negotiate for such rights? We asked this question of Wisconsin Democrat Robert Kastenmeier, who heads a House judiciary subcommittee that has been holding hearings on colorization. Bob's answer: They lack the clout to negotiate such deals. Does this mean Congress is about to give them the clout? Answer that sounds suspiciously affirmative: ''It may well be that some of us in Congress will try to serve as the instrumentality by which the parties can be brought together.'' Those guys are as bad as Woody, although less amusing.