MCCAIN'S PARTY.(John McCain)

Watched closely by a North Vietnamese guard, a dirty, feeble-looking young man on crutches, carrying a slop bucket, inched forward in slow, painful steps, and then, with a huge effort, hoisted the bucket, emptying it into an open, fetid trough. As cameras whirred, the white-haired John McCain, standing a few feet away, regarded this portrayal of his younger self intently. The Arizona senator had come to New Orleans to visit the set of a movie based on his 1999 book, "Faith of My Fathers"--an account of growing up with a father and grandfather who were both famous four-star admirals, and also of his experience as a prisoner of war in Vietnam. It will be shown on the A&E network on Memorial Day, with Shawn Hatosy starring. McCain remarked that the set, based that day in a dilapidated former brewery, looked a lot like the "Hanoi Hilton," where he spent most of his captivity: the interrogation room with long ropes hanging from the ceiling; the wretched infirmary cubicle; and the model hospital space, which the North Vietnamese displayed to visitors. "I spent about one and a half hours there," McCain, who was a prisoner for five and a half years, commented dryly.

As he made his way around the set, members of the cast and the crew surrounded him, asking him to sign copies of his book. A young Vietnamese actor wearing a North Vietnamese military uniform told McCain that he was one of twelve children and that his family had come to America when the war ended. At first, they lived in a three-bedroom apartment with a single bathroom, but they had saved money, and bought one house and then another, and today his family owns seventeen houses. "What a story!" McCain exclaimed; moments later, he was repeating it, word for word, to his longtime chief of staff, Mark Salter, who wrote "Faith of My Fathers" with him. A young woman asked McCain to sign a book for her father. "He said to tell you that he really hopes you're going to be the next President," she said. "Tell him I said thank you," McCain replied warmly, and wrote a lengthy inscription.

Accompanying McCain on this visit was Colonel George (Bud) Day, a leader of the P.O.W.s at the Hanoi Hilton and one of the men whom McCain credits with having saved his life. Day and a cellmate took care of McCain after he was put in their cell. Day was also prominently featured in ads prepared by the Swift Boat Veterans for Truth, which attacked Senator John Kerry's Vietnam service last year. In one commercial, Day addressed himself to Kerry, asking, "How can you expect our sons and daughters to follow you when you condemned their fathers and grandfathers?" When McCain defended Kerry and denounced the ads, Day was upset with his old comrade. "Something that made Bud such an ideal leader in prison was his tunnel vision," McCain told me later. "That makes him behave on the outside--well . . . " He trailed off, chuckling. "But in prison there were guys who would listen to the Vietnamese propaganda, they'd begin doubting their country. Not Bud! He's straight tunnel vision, screw 'em! He didn't join in philosophical discussions about whether the war, you know, was justified--and that's what you want in a leader in that environment. Whereas the other guys, we used to call them the political scientists, would sit around and discuss, 'Well, the Geneva agreements, you know--' But the time to debate and discuss all that was before you got shot down. Once you're in prison, then you're expected to adhere to the Code of Conduct." It stipulated that prisoners were not to disclose any significant information to their captors, and were to agree to be released only in order of capture. Day refused to listen to the North Vietnamese propaganda radio show featuring Hanoi Hannah, but McCain enjoyed it. As though reminiscing about some picaresque adventure, McCain continued, "I used to love to listen to Hanoi Hannah. Every once in a while, they'd play a decent song. Somebody left a bunch of old Louis Armstrong records in Hanoi for some reason, and if they played those it was great."

While visiting the set, McCain filmed an interview, to be used to publicize the movie. The makeup that is applied for his TV appearances softens the long scar that runs down one side of his face, from surgery he underwent nearly five years ago for melanoma, a virulent form of skin cancer. Dressed in jeans, boots, and a brown leather jacket, McCain, who is sixty-eight, looked like a much older but still jaunty version of the dashing aviator he once was. As a young man, he said, he had thought that all glory was self-glory, and that he was so strong he could achieve whatever he wanted; but he learned in prison that he was dependent on others. There he was the recipient of a thousand acts of courage and compassion and love, even as other prisoners--including Bud Day--"had it far, far worse than I ever did." And, yes, because his father was commander-in-chief of the Pacific, the Vietnamese saw him as a valuable propaganda asset (referring to him as "the crown prince") and offered him early release--something that he turned down repeatedly.

The A&E interviewer asked what relevance his story had to the present moment. "We're in a war on terror," McCain responded readily. "We have young Americans who are fighting and dying as we speak, and I would hope that, by seeing the film, maybe they might be a little bit encouraged, and recognize that what they are involved in is a very noble cause."

I asked McCain later whether he feels that he is especially well suited to lead in these times. "I do believe that I have the qualifications to address what is now the transcendent issue of our time," he said. He pointed out that his highest priorities have always been national security, armed forces, preparedness--"all of those issues that in earlier times may not have been so important, particularly all through the nineties, when we basically thought that, since the Cold War was over, we were just at peace." His qualities and experience would be most pertinent, he said, "as long as we face the threat that we do, which I think is going to be for quite a long time."

Whenever McCain is asked if he is running for President, he responds that it is too early to decide. But it appears to be the organizing principle of his life these days, evident in his assertion of his leadership capabilities, his positioning of himself, his relationship to President Bush, even his casual asides. Many of McCain's friends comment that he is far more serious and focussed than he has ever been, and that they rarely see the McCain they knew--irrepressible, occasionally outrageous, impolitic.