On February 13, the Berlin Film Festival will premiere Filth & Wisdom, the feature-length directorial debut of the inimitable Madonna. The “low-budget music-based comedy” concerns a young musician (Eugene Hutz of the punk band Gogol Bordello) who moves to London to follow his dreams, only to become swept up in the sexy sexy world of S/M. Perhaps. No one really knows what the film’s about for sure. No matter the plot, here’s hoping she’s better at telling people how to act than she is at ... you know ... doing the acting herself.

OK, so maybe that’s a little harsh. She put in decent performances in both Desperately Seeking Susan (basically playing herself) and A League of Their Own (basically playing herself as a 1940s baseball player). But for every wonderful comic turn she’s done on Saturday Night Live, there’s an is she really pouring candle wax on a bare-chested Willem Dafoe agggh I need to go bleach my eyes turn in something like 1993’s Body of Evidence.

Don’t get me wrong — I loves me some Madonna. No, really — I loves me some Madonna, and I only care a little bit that admitting it might make me uncool. She’s been around so long that I can barely remember life before Madonna; it just so happens that I feel the same way about Darth Vader— make of that what you will.

I distinctly remember the first time I ever saw Madonna. I was spending the night at my grandma’s, and she let me watch the very first MTV Video Music Awards — yes, this was way back in 1984. Madonna performed “Like A Virgin” — and of course, by “performing,” I mean “she rolled around on the stage in a trashy bridal dress,” but to my young, impressionable eyes she was a revelation. Girls weren’t supposed to act like that, after all, and I was instantly hooked.

For more than twenty years now (crap, that makes me feel old) I’ve been a die-hard Madonna fan, though I can proudly say I’ve never once tried to imitate her style. At times in my life, I’ve worn my Madonna fanship on my sleeve, like the day my mom let me skip school so I could buy True Blue the second it hit stores, while during other times — like when I was so totally punk rock that I wore a Butthole Surfers pin on my jacket, man — Madonna was my dirty little secret.

There’s never been a time I haven’t loved her, though; I’ve stuck with her through all the dizzying highs, the depressing lows, and the creamy middles. Yeah, I bought Sex (the book, I mean; come on, I’m not that desperate ... yet). Sure, I’ve spent more money than Switzerland’s GNP on concert tickets (but last time I was so close, I could see her crow’s feet!). I sacrificed an hour of my life watching the shot in ’79 but released in ‘85 stinker A Certain Sacrifice. I still hit the record store the day a new release drops, and while her output certainly hasn’t all been gold, there’s never been a time she hasn’t made me happy. She’s still a revelation. Love her or hate her, there’s no denying that Madonna isn’t one of the most remarkable women to have walked the planet.

She’s been so maligned for her acting skills — not always unfairly — that I’m really rooting for her and Filth & Wisdom ... and I’ll absolutely be the first in line when it hits the states.