If you believe John Travolta, President Bill Clinton gets up to weirder things in the Oval Office than even the kind of antics currently obsessing prosecutor Kenneth Starr.
Water-cooler gossip in the United States capital's various corridors of power last week took a turn from the name of Monica Lewinsky to that of Travolta, after the film star revealed how the President 'seduced' him by agreeing to take up his pet cause of the Church of Scientology.
It is being suggested that Mr Clinton offered to help push Germany to relax its strict ban on Scientology activities because he knew Travolta was about to play him in the movie Primary Colours and he wanted to woo him into a sympathetic portrayal. That White House meeting took place in April last year, and whether or not any Secret Service agents were outside eavesdropping, Travolta ended up spilling the beans himself.
In a magazine interview, the Saturday Night Fever and Face/Off star says that in a meeting with the nation's leader, Mr Clinton guaranteed his support on Scientology and said he had referred the matter to National Security Adviser Sandy Berger. And true to his word, the administration has indeed made occasional statements since then expressing concern over Bonn's Scientology ban.
Travolta said of the meeting: 'I was waiting for the seduction I had heard so much about . . . and after we talked, I thought 'Bingo! He did it.' Scientology is the one issue that really matters to me.' Advance reports of the forthcoming movie do indeed suggest it creates a far more positive persona for the character of the President compared to the Clinton-inspired, womanising politician featured in the Joe Klein book. That may also have something to do with the fact that its director, Mike Nichols, has been a guest of the Clintons during their summer vacations on the ritzy island of Martha's Vineyard.
Whatever the chummy relationship between Mr Clinton and his Hollywood friends, one has to wonder whether he had been properly briefed about Scientology before his decree. The religion, founded in 1953 by science fiction writer L. Ron Hubbard, is a long way from the southern Methodism Mr Clinton prefers. Hubbard got very rich flogging his teachings, which are rather like a cross between Buddhism, self-help books and Star Trek.
Germany is not alone in considering Scientology's aggressive recruitment tactics and high membership fees a problem: Britain also banned it for a while in the 1960s, calling it a menace to the public. Even in the US, the church fought a long battle with the tax man to be granted tax-exempt status, while some of its officials have been under investigation after a Florida member died in virtual captivity in a Scientology building.