Misfortune Cookie Blog

Best overlooked and underappreciated performances of 2011

2012-01-05T16:17:00.000-08:00

Well, kids, it's that time of year again - lists are sprouting up left and right of the year's top achievements in cinema. And although there's been a refreshing lack of consensus so far, you're going to see the same names and titles popping up again and again. Most of them have earned it, so I'm not complaining. But as is my tradition, over here in the peanut gallery I like to give a shoutout to the ladies and gents whose fine work this year was undervalued. Thus I present my annual list of overlooked and under-appreciated performances. As always, I offer my disclaimer that these are not necessarily replacements or alternatives for this year's batch of nominees/winners - they're simply worthy of more attention. Onward!

BEST ACTOR

Rainn Wilson as Frank in Super
Dwight Schrute has always had a bit of a crazy streak, but Wilson takes that all the way here as a passionate but misguided vigilante. Believing he has been literally touched by God, he starts attacking thugs as part of a greater quest to win back his wife. By day, he's the ultimate sad sack, but by night he can be found bludgeoning people with a wrench for increasingly minor offenses. You know it's wrong, but you can't help but root for him.

Joseph Gordon-Levitt as Adam in 50/50
The danger in making a "disease movie" is that the sick person can easily come off as a bland victim. I'm not diminishing the severity of cancer here, but it doesn't really make for compelling drama. Adam does have cancer, yes, but he also has a problem of letting the wrong people into his life and shutting the good ones out. Through JGL's skillful blend of comedy, pathos, and realism, the cancer story becomes a vehicle for a tale of a man letting others in.

Tom Hardy and Joel Edgerton as Tommy and Brendan Conlon in Warrior
Both Hardy and Edgerton should really be on your radar if they aren't already - if nothing else, they're your new Bane and Tom Buchanan, respectively. This film showcasing their great fraternal chemistry slipped unjustly through the cracks, with many blaming a perceived similarity to The Fighter. While it's true that both films feature brothers who participate in ring-enclosed sports, the similarities end there - Warrior is an almost mournful film about a severely damaged family, and how MMA (mixed martial arts) might be the only thing that could bring them together. Edgerton brings a natural realism to the role of the family man with the rowdy past, and Hardy is riveting as the enigmatic, uncommunicative drifter.

Conan O'Brien as himself in Conan O'Brien Can't Stop and Steve Coogan as himself-ish in The Trip
Cuz like, isn't life just a performance, you guys?! In all seriousness, the fascinating thing about these two films (the former a documentary, the latter a mockumentary) is that it's sometimes challenging to discern what's real and what's not. I doubt Coogan is a reckless womanizer, for instance, but is he actually that dismayed by the state of his career? O'Brien, on the other hand, seems like someone who is always "on" and is especially aware of the cameras, making it seem like he's always performing. One thing's for sure: both of them are very, very funny.

BEST ACTRESS

Saoirse Ronan as Hanna
I never saw the point of classifying child actors separately - you've either got the goods or you don't. Ronan towers above others two or three times her age in this electrifying tale of a girl raised by her father to be an assassin. Although somewhat of a kindred spirit to Hit-Girl in last year's Kick-Ass, Hanna has been raised in the wilderness and never known anyone but her father. Thus scenes of her instinctively annihilating adults are mixed in with tender scenes where she tries to have the childhood she was denied.

Kristen Wiig as Annie in Bridesmaids

Aside from a surprise Globes nom, all of the acting love for this film has been directed solely at Melissa McCarthy. I'm not saying she's unworthy, but the fact that everyone is treating a woman doing gross-out humor as a comedic breakthrough is kind of sad. Frankly, I think Wiig's work here is much more nuanced and daring, as she's not only hilarious but fairly despicable and destructive throughout.

Jenna Fischer as Laura in A Little Help
As Pam Beesly on "The Office," Fischer plays nice. For her uglier side, turn to this indie, which is a bit uneven but shows off her acting chops. A former high school beauty turned hometown hot mess, she has petty and insulting fights with her young son and everyone else in her family, but she just wants them to like her. Fischer explores what it's like to have your life be in shambles, but not in the cutesy romantic comedy way (as in "oh no, my job is hard and I trip a lot!").

Mia Wasikowska as Jane Eyre

Confession time: despite being, ostensibly, a girl, this was my first introduction to the tale of Jane Eyre. I therefore have no basis of comparison, but I dare anyone to play the role better than Wasikowska. Naturally, it's unfortunate that we have to go back over 150 years to find a female character this strong without an obvious hook (e.g. an assassin), but I'm grateful to Wasikowska for reviving her with such intelligence and passion.

BEST SUPPORTING ACTOR

Sacha Baron Cohen as the station inspector in Hugo

Cohen does not do subtlety. And really, would you want him to? Playing a man who could easily be a cousin of his garish barber in Sweeney Todd, Cohen is operating in his typically alternate plane of existence, which dovetails nicely with the world of Hugo. And yet, he does find a balance - despite possessing utter dominion over the train station, he is still rendered helpless by a lovely shopkeeper.

Armie Hammer as Clyde Tolson in J. Edgar

Not content to rest on his laurels as a man so stunningly gorgeous it's scientifically impossible, Hammer has been one to watch lately. Here, he plays nicely off DiCaprio's Hoover, being the more socially adept half of their ambiguous partnership. But the most impressive part of his performance is how well he pulls off old age. So often when actors play older, they're going through the motions but something just feels off. Not the case here - I completely bought the athletic, 25-year-old Hammer as the 70-something, post-stroke Tolson.

Ezra Miller as teenage Kevin in We Need to Talk About Kevin
Since the titular nightmarish offspring ages from 0 to 16 in the film, he is portrayed by multiple actors, including two talented children. But it's Miller as the teenage Kevin that really steals the show. Kevin is a nature vs nurture study about the origin of sociopaths that offers no clear answers, and Miller dominates every frame he's in with an utterly chilling and compelling presence.

Jon Hamm as Ted in Bridesmaids

Some people have all the luck...they're gorgeous, talented, AND hilarious. One would never expect the man playing Don Draper to have killer comedy skills, but lucky for us, he does. And they're on full display here, with Hamm as the filthiest, most degrading man you could ever date.

BEST SUPPORTING ACTRESS

Keira Knightley as Sabina Spielrein in A Dangerous Method
Frankly, I'm surprised that awards-bestowing entities aren't all over this. She plays a historical figure with both physical and mental problems, for crying out loud! But it's never for its own sake - Knightley skillfully depicts Spielrein's journey from stuttering, hypersexual patient to insightful doctor, and walks away as the true focus (and star) of the film.

Jennifer Morrison as Tess Conlon in Warrior
Typically in sports movies, the love story is in the courtship phase (i.e. Rocky, The Fighter, etc). Warrior takes a different approach here by having one of the protagonists be married, thus showing the strain of his career decisions on a preexisting relationship (with kids). Morrison transforms what could have been a throwaway role into something remarkable, balancing a love for her husband with an urgent need to sustain her family.

Ellen Page as Libby in Super

My boyfriend always explains his unconditional adoration of Tom Cruise as an actor by saying that he completely commits to every role he plays, no matter how slight. Perhaps that's why I always love Page - she has an intense "there"-ness apparent in roles from normal to deranged. And boy, this is deranged - Libby gleefully attacks people, rapes men twice her age, and generally revels in chaos. In anyone else's hands it might have just been embarrassing, but Page knocks it out of the park.

Colette Wolfe as Sandy in Young Adult

Playing a gawky townie, Wolfe only has a few minutes of screen time at the end of the film, but she certainly makes her mark. In those few minutes, she summarizes the moral of the film (which isn't quite what you'd expect), makes you laugh with her deadpan comedy, and tugs at your heartstrings.

OVERLOOKED ENSEMBLES

Attack the Block
Ever wonder why aliens only seem to invade the suburbs? Joe Cornish did, so he wrote and directed a film about an invasion in a South London hood. Unofficially tasked with defending the streets are a teenage street gang and the young woman they terrorized earlier in the night. Cornish's cast is comprised almost entirely of inexperienced actors making their debut (with the righteous exception of Nick Frost), and they bring a great energy and camaraderie to the film while replacing time-worn alien-fighting archetypes.

Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy
Gary Oldman is being rightfully recognized for his performance here, but it's really more of a group affair. It's a who's who of British actors working together beautifully for the sake of the story - not even recent Oscar winner Colin Firth has that big a role, but everyone is an important piece of the puzzle.

The Ides of March
This cast is an embarrassment of riches that could easily fill a trophy case with their combined awards. Stars like Marisa Tomei and Jeffrey Wright chip in mere minutes of screen time to this well-crafted, simmering political tale. Additionally, many of the players are going against type - George Clooney as a semi-villain, Ryan Gosling tapping into his dark side without killing anybody, and Paul Giamatti being only somewhat pathetic.

What are your favorite performances of the year that you feel aren't getting enough love?

The year in dog

2011-12-01T10:50:00.000-08:00

Movies and dogs are pretty much my two favorite things in the world. So when you combine the two of them, I'm in hog heaven. This year, some canine talent burst onto the scene that could easily be compared to the star power of Asta or Lassie. Beyond those career-defining roles, various films this year were positively peppered with pooches. I'm not just calling them out for being cute, but I truly believe that they were all strong screen presences, even those with limited screen time. Oh, and they're cute!

THE STAR TURNS

Uggy in The Artist

We'll start with the pup that won big at Cannes. Yes, Uggy is the lucky recipient of this year's Palm Dog award, which the Cannes jury awards every year for best canine performance. (I pretty much died when I found out that this was a real thing). To call Uggy a scene-stealer would be to call Citizen Kane a pretty good flick. Director Michel Hazanavicius knew the star he had on his hands, so he cleverly cast him as a spunky sidekick, both onscreen and off, to the film's actor protagonist. When I saw the film at the AFI Fest gala event, Uggy was in tow with the film's cast, as if to scoff at the notion that he wouldn't be.

"Arthur" in Beginners

Not only does it appear to be the year of the dog in cinema, but more specifically, the dominance belongs to the Jack Russell terrier. The breed is no stranger to showbiz, having popped up in everything from The Mask to "Frasier," but 2011 was the year it would really shine. In addition to Uggy, Cosmo the Jack Russell gives a great leading performance as Arthur in Beginners. "Leading performance" was not a typo - this dog is in nearly every frame, and has the expressiveness of his fellow actors. Costar Ewan McGregor was so taken with him that he wanted to adopt him after filming, but his trainer wouldn't let him go. And honestly, who would?

The Doberman and dachshunds in Hugo

You'd think that anyone would disappear into the shadows acting alongside the theatrical Sacha Baron Cohen, but someone found him in a perfect foil in the form of a stone-faced Doberman. Cohen's character essentially regards the dog as a human sidekick, and their relationship is all the better for it. There's also a single shot of the two of them that I won't spoil, but it might be the most delightful doggy moment I've ever seen onscreen. The film also features, in a much smaller role, a hot-tempered dachshund that finds love.

THE SUPPORTING PLAYERS

"Skeletor" in 50/50

Although Rachael (Bryce Dallas Howard) is hardly the best girlfriend to cancer patient Adam (Joseph Gordon-Levitt), she does bring an adopted greyhound into his life as a coping mechanism. Adam doesn't quite take to Skeletor at first, but the dog's mournful eyes from his past life in a shelter radiate empathy, and the two become inseparable. There's a part where the two are snuggled up in bed where I seriously thought I was going to cry. As a doggy bonus, I believe Skeletor also briefly encounters a bulldog when out on a walk.

Laika in Le Havre

Even though the Palm Dog went to Uggy this year, a special jury prize was given to Laika. I'm not sure if that means Laika is a runner-up or actually superior, but either way, the adorable mutt provides a reassuring and super cute presence in the film.

"Jankers" in Tucker and Dale Vs. Evil

(Full disclosure: the spelling of that name is a rough approximation extrapolated from a hillbilly accent.) Like the scary-looking but sweet titular characters, Jankers' odd exterior (indeterminate bulldog mix, different-colored eyes) hides a mellow and sympathetic disposition. Correctly assessing how much he means to Dale, one of the college kids even takes the dog hostage! (Jankers comes through okay though, don't worry.)

The bulldog in Hipsters

Ever wish "Glee" was more like Grease, and in Russian? Have I got news for you! Hipsters is a charming little film about the rockabilly subculture of Russia in the 50s, complete with some of the catchiest songs and swell fashions of the year. Cool cat Fred, self-appointed leader of the hipsters, extends his style even to his dog, who has dyed fur and accessories for every occasion.

Rowlf in The Muppets

He plays the piano. Nuff said.

Also notable, though I couldn't find a picture: the mutt in Take Shelter. Despite its totally laid-back demeanor, the mentally unstable Curtis (Michael Shannon) starts perceiving it as violent and keeps distancing it from his family. And let's not forget the veritable cornucopia of Golden Retriever puppies appearing as party favors in Bridesmaids! Despite the one pup per guest rule, feisty bridesmaid Megan (Melissa McCarthy) helps herself to a whole armload, and later admits she might have gotten carried away.

And even though I haven't seen Young Adult yet, I'm going to go ahead and include its featured pooch. Just look at it!

Did I miss any? What were your favorite dog performances of the year?

Films that should have been something else

2011-11-04T21:15:00.000-07:00

It's rare that films come into being because the idea was best suited for that particular medium. Adaptations obviously happen, as well as transformations during development ("Glee," for instance, was originally envisioned as a film), but it's not like a variety of artists are all chasing the same material. Consequently, it occasionally happens that you wind up with a film that (at least in my opinion) should have been something else, where the strengths play to a different medium entirely and the choice of art form drags it down. Here, then, are some films that I think were "born into the wrong body," so to speak.

Scarface (1932) as a graphic novel
When I finally got around to seeing Scarface, I felt like I was missing something. I love a good gangster picture as much as the next guy, and even Scarface's notable contemporaries like Little Caesar and The Public Enemy seemed much more lively. To me, the film lacked the manic energy that made similar films work. There was too much dead space, too many awkward stretches, too much focus on plot. So I propose it would feel right at home as a graphic novel, where the pace can be more relaxed while still holding interest. The machine gun fire would explode in big graphic rat-a-tats, and stylized artwork (black and white, perhaps) would do the heavy lifting instead of mostly novice actors. I'd read it!

The Producers (1968) as a musical
Now, I'm aware this is sort of cheating, since the film HAS been made into a musical (albeit one I haven't seen, so I'm counting it). It's perhaps because I am aware of the musical that the film felt to me like a musical with the songs cut out. The plot is oddly arranged, the shtick gets old fast, and the vast majority of it is two actors stuck in a room getting hysterical at each other. The fundamental premise is so goofy that I think the full musical treatment would really highlight it and bring the absurdity to the max. (I'm clearly right, if a six-year Broadway run and 12 Tonys are any indication).

Beetlejuice (1988) as an art exhibit
Unlike many, I neither unconditionally love nor blindly hate Tim Burton - I take him one film at a time. My frustration with Beetlejuice was that it had wonderful production design - and that's it. The acting, directing, cinematography, editing and story were indifferent. He probably knew that he could get more financing for building a whimsically gothic collection of giant beasties if he shot a film with them. I've been to the recent Tim Burton art exhibit that's been touring the world, but the focus there is more on two-dimensional works and isolated movie props. Ideally, the world he created for Beetlejuice would have been transplanted into an immersive gallery environment where you experienced it firsthand, not once removed through a movie screen.

Once (2007) as an album
Once is about music. Any plot developments or character arcs, most of them minor, are entrenched in the music. So why not just leave it as music? The film plays like a long music video, although that's not even the best description because music videos exploit their visual component. Once does not - the characters just sit around either playing music or just kind of hanging out. Make no mistake; the music in question here is absolutely fantastic. They just didn't need to build a movie around it.

The Man From Earth (2007) as a play
I had heard a ton of great buzz about this little indie, but it proved to be a huge disappointment. There's an interesting premise buried underneath terrible acting, shoddy production values and elevator music: an immortal, non-aging man has seen all of human history unfold. Instead of being a 20-part history epic, however, the format is a bunch of intellectuals sitting in a room and talking. I don't have an intrinsic problem with this format and have seen many films that use it well, but TMFE is a textbook example of what not to do. Take a few of the sillier indulgences out of the script, cast a powerhouse ensemble of actors, and it could be a pretty great stage play. (Frankly, the way the film is made I was surprised to learn it wasn't adapted from one.)

Black Swan (2010) as a ballet
I'm well aware that the film uses the ballet Swan Lake as a launching point. But Aronofsky's dark, sexy, weird version of the ballet at the end of the film is like no Swan Lake I've ever seen. The offscreen drama of the finale is fantastic too, a virtuosic opera of madness that melds perfectly with the ballet performance. Unfortunately, the rest of the film is Natalie Portman whimpering and clipping her toenails. I'm not dismissing the film entirely, since the ending was one of the more inspired moments of cinema I saw last year. So why not combine the ballet of Swan Lake with the story of a ballerina going mad preparing for it? The histrionics fit the tone of "dance-acting," the production design can remain the same - just cast actual dancers who have been trained to emote through their bodies.

Le Havre (2011) as a photography series
Aki Kaurismäki's latest film immediately pulls you in with its stunning lighting. It's a strange thing to single out, but it's highly theatrical and makes the rainbow palette of the film really pop. The rest of the film, however, isn't nearly as notable - flat characters, a story that overestimates its importance, and barely enough energy to keep the thing moving. But viewing stills from the movie, they look like a carefully choreographed photography series spring-loaded with possibilities. I can totally picture them in a gallery or museum. The nature of film as a moving picture really does these compositions an injustice.

What do you think? Can you think of any films that seem destined to be something else?

Second-tier and loving it

2011-10-19T16:21:00.000-07:00

They can't all be winners.

Even the strongest, smartest, most talented directors will misfire occasionally. It happens, and it's forgivable. But what about the works that lie between masterpiece and failure? The films that, far from being nonentities, are proudly second-tier? It often seems that you can learn more about a director from these films than from their best works. Sometimes in plumbing the depths of a director's filmography I'll discover a film that I either consider generally underrated or actually superior to the anointed classics. But that's not what I'm talking about here - today I'm celebrating films that, despite being far from the big leagues, are still worth your time. After all, you have to have SOMEWHERE to turn after you've seen all of the best and brightest. So here are some of my favorite second-tier films, listed by director - because "minor (name of director)" doesn't always have to be an insult.

Alfred Hitchcock

Masterpieces include: Psycho, Rear Window

But do check out: Foreign Correspondent (1940)

I've long contended that a Hitchcock film is never a waste of time. Even if it's not a classic, there will be memorable scenes, shots, and tricks from the Master of Suspense. FC takes a bit of time to get going, but its greatest strength is that you never know who you can truly trust. Joel McCrea is fine in the lead, but it's the suave support team of Herbert Marshall and George Sanders who truly shine. Hitch's keen eye for imagery also gives us visual treats like a chase through a sea of umbrellas, and a tense encounter in a windmill. It never quite coheres in the manner of, say, North by Northwest, but it's entertaining nonetheless.

John Huston

Masterpieces include: The Maltese Falcon, The Treasure of the Sierra Madre

But do check out: Key Largo (1948)

Humphrey Bogart and Edward G. Robinson face off as a hurricane traps them (and others) in a hotel. It's Bogie being Bogie and EGR being EGR, but I could watch that all day. Lauren Bacall's unique appeal is held back to "generic female" levels, but Claire Trevor steals the show as a pathetic, boozy broad (and won an Oscar for doing so). It's stagy, and not quite as tense as it perhaps should have been, but sweaty gangsters pointing guns at each other while the wind howls outside does cast a certain spell.

Michael Curtiz

Masterpieces include: Casablanca, Mildred Pierce

But do check out: Young Man with a Horn (1950)

Curtiz' output is divided into two categories: Casablanca, and all the other stuff. In picking through the "other stuff," however, I've discovered that he was one of the most talented of the studio system's journeyman directors. Even without a distinctive style, per se, the consistent quality of his films suggests more than coincidence. So while I could go on and on about, say, Four Daughters or Life With Father, I'll focus on one of his more modest successes. YMwaH stars Kirk Douglas as a troubled jazz trumpeter (based on 1920s cornetist Bix Beiderbecke), and he elevates the film from the "forgettable studio system film" gutter it might otherwise occupy. He modulates perfectly between charm and pathos, all against a great soundtrack. Lauren Bacall costars as his tempestuous wife, and Doris Day is also on hand to play a shyer, more nervous version of herself. Even though the film opts to have the protagonist reform instead of dying the early death that Beiderbecke did, it's still fairly intense in its depiction of downfall (considering the era).

Otto Preminger

Masterpieces include: Laura, Anatomy of a Murder

But do check out: The Moon Is Blue (1953)

Preminger is associated with noir and drama, not sex comedy. So it's a pleasant surprise to watch his deft handling of the latter. Known more as a curio that significantly weakened the Production Code, it's actually quite funny. The trio of William Holden, David Niven, and the otherwise unknown Maggie McNamara outwit and outflirt each other as they get into increasingly ridiculous situations. Oh, did I mention the main plot is that they're both competing to deflower her? The bad news is that it's pretty talky and starts to drag, and one can't help but wonder what it might have been like in the hands of a Hawks or McCarey. Still, it's quite amusing, with a knockout performance by McNamara as a horny ingenue (in 1953!).

Stanley Donen

Masterpieces include: Singin' in the Rain, Charade

But do check out: The Pajama Game (1957)

Donen is one of my favorite directors, a man who, like Curtiz, has a body of work riddled with hidden treasures (Two for the Road and It's Always Fair Weather, for instance). So after watching The Pajama Game, I didn't think too highly of it. But later, in describing it to someone else, I found myself saying "Yeah, it's okay except for this one part. Well, and this other part. Okay, so just these three parts. Well..." The thing is, Donen can stage a musical number better than anyone in town. Add in choreography by Bob Fosse and the numbers here are truly special, from the sultry sizzle of "Steam Heat" to the no-holds-barred insanity of "Once-a-Year Day." If the film was all song and dance, it might be truly sublime - but since it isn't, the end result is rather uneven.

Nicholas Ray

Masterpieces include: Rebel Without a Cause, In a Lonely Place

But do check out: Party Girl (1958)

My boyfriend prefaced my first viewing of Party Girl with "It's like, not that good objectively, but there's just something about it." Frustratingly vague as that is, I was forced to agree. Cyd Charisse is luminous but not exceptional, Robert Taylor is good but not memorable, and Lee J. Cobb is just straight-up hammy. Charisse's two dance numbers are bizarrely incongruous but entrancing. The plot is thin, but it all looks gorgeous. It's campy, tense, sad, and fun all at once. There's just SOMETHING about it!

Joseph L Mankiewicz

Masterpieces include: All About Eve, Julius Caesar

But do check out: Suddenly Last Summer (1959)

This somewhat campy offering is unusual fare for Mankiewicz, known for his solid studio films. On one hand you have Katharine Hepburn absolutely feasting on the scenery as a demented and delusional recluse, and on the other you have up and coming star Elizabeth Taylor giving a heartbreaking and shattering performance (with Montgomery Clift pulled between them). And let's not forget about homosexuality, cannibals, and lobotomies - oh my! It's based on a Tennessee Williams play, and it was as faithfully and competently adapted as possible considering the weirdness of the source material. It's been viewed alternately as a cult classic and just a regular classic, so watch it and decide for yourself!

Billy Wilder

Masterpieces include: Sunset Blvd, Some Like It Hot

But do check out: Irma La Douce (1963)

Does reuniting the leads from The Apartment, relocating the action to Paris and making everything ten times sillier sound like fun to you? It is! Irma lacks the sophisticated sparkle of Some Like It Hot, the dark bite of Sunset Blvd, and the pathos of The Apartment, but it does have Shirley MacLaine as the world's cutest hooker and Jack Lemmon as a suitor pretending to be different customers so he can have her to himself. The humor is broader than in Wilder's other films, which isn't a bad thing but might seem that way to those familiar with his work. Some sources claim it's the first major Hollywood film to address prostitution head-on, and consequently there's a bit of a giggly feel to it all - but you'll giggle right along with it.

Pedro Almodóvar

Masterpieces include: Talk to Her, All About My Mother

But do check out: Pepi, Luci, Bom y otras chicas del montón (1980)

It seems a bit improper to put a debut film on this list, but of the many Almodóvars I've seen, this seems to fit the bill best. Perhaps that's because it meanders amiably without getting into the more twisted stuff he became known for (although people DO pee on each other). It's good-natured anarchy that stays enjoyable, not awkward, as you watch an auteur find his voice.

Woody Allen

Masterpieces include: Annie Hall, Hannah and Her Sisters

But do check out: Everyone Says I Love You (1996)

I still can't believe that Allen has essentially cranked out a movie a year for the past four decades. When you're that prolific, you have the opportunity to touch on a variety of genres: slapstick, drama, crime, romance, mockumentary - and the musical! Despite the typical trappings like pop songs and choreography, this is hardly a traditional musical - his ensemble cast was told about the musical element only after they signed on, and he made everyone use their own singing voices, no matter how unimpressive. Viewers consequently discover that Edward Norton and Alan Alda are rather good singers and Julia Roberts is not, while navigating a feather-light plot through lovely locales (and a Groucho Marx party). Directors often trip up when working in homage, but Allen takes a relaxed enough approach here that everyone (audience included) has fun.

Joel and Ethan Coen

Masterpieces include: The Big Lebowski, No Country for Old Men

But do check out: Intolerable Cruelty (2003)

The Coens' track record is so damn near perfect that any slight fall from grace is especially glaring. I actually avoided this film for a while because of its bad reputation, but was quite surprised to find it was a perfectly charming homage to screwball comedy (if there's such a thing as cool, even-tempered screwball comedy). Perhaps it's just my low expectations talking, but George Clooney steps nicely into the archetypal Cary Grant role (what an original comparison, right?) and Catherine Zeta-Jones proves to be an effective foil. Unlike classic screwball cinema, however, the Coens have some trouble maintaining the needed level of energy and rhythm of dialogue. Yet it's a nice throwback to a genre that peaked 70+ years ago.

What are your favorite second-tier films of acclaimed directors?

Eight outrageous Pre-Code moments

2011-10-03T20:36:00.000-07:00

When you watch a lot of movies, like I do, it really takes a lot to shock or surprise you. I can sit through the most depraved sexuality or most graphic violence and not blink an eye - it's just a matter of expectations. A sudden blood-soaked battle royale in a Pixar film, for instance, is going to elicit double takes from even the most jaded viewers because you're not expecting to find it there. Fans of cinematic dissonance, then, would be well-advised to check out some Pre-Code cinema.

Long-time readers are probably familiar with the Code, but for those of you just joining us, The Production Code was a system of Hollywood film censorship in place from 1934 to 1968. Naturally, the existence of said Code means there was an era before it, which is generally considered to be between the birth of talkies and the strict enforcement of the Code (it was technically implemented in 1930, but without teeth). Consequently, films of this era could get away with a lot. Pre-Code transgressions, at least for me, fall into two categories: dryly anachronistic ("ah, since it's Pre-Code, that criminal act can go unpunished") and the truly startling ("WTF? I'm rewinding that!"). I'm not expecting that the average viewer would be scandalized by a lack of petticoats, but just to prove you can really get some kicks from the early 1930s I've compiled some of my favorite "wait - WHAT?" moments from Pre-Code cinema.

Lesbian kiss in Morocco (1930)

Marlene Dietrich, who was probably personally responsible for at least one film censor's heart attack, plays (what else?) a slinky cabaret entertainer who eventually falls for Gary Cooper. But before that, she finds time to plant a smoldering kiss on a female patron, mid-performance, FOR ABSOLUTELY NO REASON. My use is of all caps here is not to express indignation or disgust, but rather to underscore how profoundly random this moment is. It doesn't serve the story and is never mentioned again - it's just Marlene being Marlene. She was openly bisexual and added the kiss to the script herself - and insured its inclusion by taking a flower from the woman that would create a jarring continuity problem if the shot was cut.

Oh, and she's wearing a top hat and tux.

Laughed-off murder in Night Nurse (1931)

The perfect film for those who enjoy seeing Barbara Stanwyck prance around in lingerie, this film has it share of sordid and tawdry moments but none top the ending. Stanwyck's Lora has been engaged in courtship with a gangster, whose method of conflict resolution is sending a couple of thugs to rough up the person in question. Being a kind and reasonable person, she's initially horrified at this approach. But in the very last scene, a dead body (I won't say whose!) is delivered to the hospital, and we cut to the gangster admitting it was his thugs' doing as the two of them drive away smiling into the sunset. It's hardly prudish to say that a nonchalant murder makes a strange ending to a film that has otherwise upright morals.

"Jazz Up Your Lingerie" from The Smiling Lieutenant (1931)

If your lover abandoned you for someone else, you'd probably be pretty upset and/or angry. Franzi (Claudette Colbert) is both of these things when she loses the lieutenant in question to a virginal princess (Miriam Hopkins), but by some insane twist of logic she figures that the guy might as well have good sex. So naturally she sings a song to her rival called "Jazz Up Your Lingerie" that is exactly what it sounds like. Really, it's the only logical outcome when one woman demands of another, "let me see your underwear."

This will be stuck in your head all day. You're welcome.

Cocaine use in Three on a Match (1932)

I would expect to see cocaine use in a movie (even a Pre-Code one) about the dangers of drugs. I was not expecting it to casually pop up as a byproduct of one woman's moral decline (particularly seeing as she is part of an ensemble cast). After her character is offscreen for a while, she reappears with dark circles under her eyes and a distinct nose-wiping twitch. Lest you think you're imagining it, a hoodlum played by Humphrey Bogart (!) chides her with "Oh, that" while mimicking her gesture. Her lover and some of his underlings appear to have the habit too, making their apartment a bona fide 1932 crack den.

Marijuana in Jewel Robbery (1932)

Before Danny Ocean, before Thomas Crown, you could get your sexy, suave criminal fix from William Powell. Playing a jewel thief whose heists are like acts of seduction, he has Kay Francis at hello. But since not all of the witnesses are equally charmed, he subdues them with his secret weapon - marijuana cigarettes! They're not explicitly referred to as such, but the giggly behavior of those smoking them makes it pretty obvious.

The dress gag in This Is the Night (1932)

This film opens with Thelma Todd snagging her dress on a car door and having it ripped off. This causes virtually the entire population of Paris to stop what they're doing and excitedly sing "The lady has lost her dress!" Throughout the film, it seems that the inanimate objects of the world are conspiring to see Ms. Todd in her skivvies, as her dress is ripped off over and over. In fact, the film is wryly summarized in the BFI database with the single sentence "Comedy in which a flirtatious wife keeps getting her dress caught in doors."

The premise of Design for Living (1933)

What if you were in love with two people and didn't have to choose? That's the notion put forth in the film adaptation of the Noel Coward play, though one of the lines of the love triangle (the one connecting the two men) is removed. Scheming Gilda's solution to the fact that she's been sleeping with two best friends is to have the three of them move in together. They explicitly declare that there will be no sex in this arrangement, but let's just say that if they were successful at maintaining that rule, the film would be a lot shorter. The scandal is somewhat lessened by the fact that Gilda somewhat staggers the ensuing affairs and has them in different locations, but ultimately the film seems to endorse polyamorous relationships.

The premise of Baby Face (1933)

I almost didn't want to mention Baby Face because it's so obvious - anyone can tell you it's basically THE Pre-Code film. But you can't avoid it. It's about Barbara Stanwyck sleeping her way to the top of a corporation. It makes "Mad Men" look subtle and progressive. Some of the setups seem like the start of pornos, except the characters shut the door on the audience instead of letting them watch.

I also want to give a shoutout to Ecstasy (1933), which I can't technically include since it's not an American production, but it features gratuitous female nudity and an extended scene of female orgasm. In 1933!

Let me offer the disclaimer that not all Pre-Code films are this racy, or even very good. But there's a lot of fun to be had, and with many of these films running about 60-80 minutes in length you don't have much to lose.

What are the most outrageous Pre-Code moments you've seen?

I know it's wrong, but I prefer...

2011-09-06T20:48:00.000-07:00

In my interweb travels, I have picked up a fun little meme called "I know it's wrong, but I prefer..." (scientists are working round the clock to come up with a catchier name). Basically, you name a universally revered film, and then offer up the name of a similar but less-acclaimed one (same director, similar plots, etc) that you like better. The "I know it's wrong" element could reflect either actual guilt or just reinforce the fact that you're in the minority. So here are some of mine...feel free to debate, berate, etc., but offer yours in return!

I know it's wrong, but I prefer...

Of Kurosawa: The Bad Sleep Well to Rashomon
Of Ford: The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance to The Searchers
Of Fellini: Nights of Cabiria to 8 1/2
Of Altman: 3 Women to M*A*S*H*
Of Bogdanovich: Paper Moon to The Last Picture Show
Of early Jimmy Cagney: Picture Snatcher to The Public Enemy
Of Jack Nicholson: As Good As It Gets to One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest
Of hobos: O Brother, Where Art Thou? to Sullivan's Travels
Of absurd comedies: Zoolander to Airplane!
Of musicals with dramatic heft: Pennies from Heaven to West Side Story
Of Brontë adaptations: Jane Eyre (2011) to Wuthering Heights (1939) (and yes I realize those are two different Brontës)
Of 30s screwball comedies where a rich and daffy matron hires a hobo butler who falls for her daughter: Merrily We Live to My Man Godfrey
Of courtroom dramas: Either Judgment at Nuremberg or Inherit the Wind to To Kill a Mockingbird
Of 2009 animated films: Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs to Up
Of early Universal horror films: The Invisible Man to Dracula and Frankenstein
Of expressionist German cinema: Pandora's Box to Metropolis
Of this year's releases: The Green Hornet (Hornet, not Lantern!) to almost any of this summer's blockbusters except maybe X-Men: First Class

What do you prefer, despite knowing (or being told) that's it's wrong?

What's in a CinemaScore?

2011-08-25T22:06:00.000-07:00

Every so often, an entertainment journalist rediscovers CinemaScore and declares it to be a near-perfect predictor of box office performance. For the unfamiliar, CinemaScore is a simple survey passed out to filmgoers who give the movie in question a letter grade (typically administered in the very beginning of a film's run). Recently, much fuss has been made over the fact that The Help received a coveted and rare A+ rating, and the guaranteed box office success that entails. It's a tempting analysis to make - what better indicator of a film's resonance can you find than man-on-the-street opinions?

It's true that many high-rated releases performed well and vice versa - you can't overlook the correlation. But I think for the most part, analysts aren't looking at what CinemaScore data actually measures. They're a bit too hasty in dismissing the results that don't support their hypothesis. The entertainment industry at large likes to rely on shortcuts and trends to guide their decisions, and they hear what they want to hear. It's a lot easier, for instance, to interpret the success of The Dark Knight as an audience hunger for an easily replicated "gritty feel" than to admit that a particular film had a certain alchemy that people responded to. Similarly, it's nice to be reassured that your newly released film will have a long and fruitful run. But I think they're missing the point.

First, let's look at the participants. These are paying customers that want to see the film anyway, and so much so that they're there on opening weekend - predisposed fans, essentially. I'm guessing that Justin Bieber: Never Say Never got an A not based on its objective merits, but because the audience was filled with diehard Bieber fans. Tyler Perry films always have glowing CinemaScores, because the man has a devoted empire. Most kids' movies score pretty high too, probably because they're mostly attended by kids.

So what about the failures? It's true that there aren't a whole lot - on the whole, the reviews typically hover between A- and B-. Because of that fact, a C or less is considered a kiss of death. Here's a list of some films that haven't fared with with CinemaScore: The American (D-), Rango (C+), Hanna (C+), Priest (C+), the remake of Solaris (F), The Box (F). Do you notice anything these releases have in common?

I do - these films were all either deliberately or accidentally misrepresented to audiences in their marketing campaigns. The American, which plays like a contemplative European film of the 60s, made a risky grab for its opening weekend by marketing itself as an action movie with lots of running. Rango was assumed to be a kids' movie because it's animated, but it's a bizarre spaghetti western full of grotesque characters. Hanna features a slew of elegant Oscar-nominated talent coming together for an violent action thriller. The very title of Solaris conjures up images of a space adventure, but it's really a moody melodrama that's rather coincidentally set in space. I haven't seen the other two films listed, but my understanding is that their advertising contained ambiguities that left people disappointed.

From this data, it's hard to see CinemaScore as anything other than an evaluation of expectations versus reality. I suspect that the A+ for The Help stemmed from the fact that it was based on a best-selling book, and fans of the book rushed out and received exactly what they expected and wanted. I'm not being cynical - many films receive the CinemaScore they deserve - but with this system set up as it is, I can't really fathom what else it might measure.

The best objective measure of any film's quality would probably be to show it to a group of people in some remote tribe that was unfamiliar with it and all affiliated talent. After all, how often are our feelings toward a film just a reflection of our expectations or preexisting prejudices? Audiences were downright angry with Inception when, despite being a solid film, it failed to be the savior of a remake and sequel-filled industry. Conversely, movies that people have low expectations for often turn out to be hits.

And what about that outlying data I mentioned? Not every well-CinemaScored film is a hit - far from it. Many films garner enthusiastic responses in niche or sparse audiences and nowhere else. Akeelah and the Bee, Cinderella Man, Scott Pilgrim vs. The World, Lottery Ticket, Life As We Know It, Burlesque, Soul Surfer, and Monte Carlo all scored within the A range (many with a perfect A+) but failed to set the box office on fire - some didn't even make back their budgets. There's also plenty of films that scored in the B range that didn't gross a fraction of what comparable B-scoring films did (True Grit and The Next Three Days both received a B+).

Will The Help be a hit? Yes, but I'm guessing it's because it's based on a book that just about every woman in America has read. Unfortunately for studio bigwigs, there's no crystal ball - sometimes you just have to sit back and see what happens.

War of the sexes

2011-08-17T19:06:00.000-07:00

***Friends and countrymen, I have returned! The excuse I offer to my millions of devoted fans is that I got a job at Paramount - yes, that Paramount - and have been going through a grueling training process. But I'm back, and ready to dish up more of the wit and biting insight that you all adore. Onward!***

It's no secret that the media influences (and reflects) society. Most people agree on that point, but can't reach a consensus on the what or how. The most famous argument is that movies and TV (but also video games, commercials, etc) promote and glorify violence. Conservatives complain that the media is too liberal, and vice versa. Minorities lament their poor representation, or complete lack of it. TV shows like "Glee" are accused of promoting a gay agenda. You could have endless debates on any of these points, but I'm not going to focus on any of them for the time being. Instead, I'll direct your attention to a media trend I not only find quite troubling, but very insidious and rarely addressed.

I worry that the media is driving men and women apart.

Let me back up a bit and refer to some history. In films of the late 1930s and into the 40s, men and women were quite often equals. No matter how different their backgrounds, they could typically spar, scheme, and dream on the same wavelength. Screwball comedy comes to mind as the best example of this, but film noir typically had a dame that was just as cunning and deadly as her leading man. It's no coincidence that this period in cinema coincided with WWII - women were supporting most of the homefront war effort and leading scrappy, independent lives.

Then the war ended and, as we all know, Americans retreated into the suburbs and women retreated into the kitchen. Rosie the Riveter was dead; long live the housewife and mother. The cinema of the time reflected this change, and many romantic comedies become downright antagonistic. The plot was typically that the woman was trying to trap a man into marriage, while he was trying to trick her into sex (the films that Doris Day and Rock Hudson made together are a perfect example of this). To paraphrase the author of a great article that I unfortunately cannot find, the cinematic couples of the 30s-40s played with each other, but in the 50s they played against each other. So that brings me back to my main point: when you turn on a TV or walk into a movie theater these days, the gender dynamic is often 1950s 2.0.

This dynamic is usually played out in stereotypes that make both sexes look bad, but typically the onus is on the woman, depicting the Castrating Wife. The CW can take one of two forms: 1) a woman who makes totally unreasonable requests of her male significant other, or 2) a woman who makes totally reasonable demands, but it still portrayed as unreasonable and controlling. Having a character be the former is lazy; having her be the latter is just unfair.

Leslie Mann's character in Knocked Up is a good example of the first type of CW - many criticized Judd Apatow for creating that type of character, but he's hardly alone in doing so. Stu's fiancee in The Hangover is so strict that he flees into the arms of a stripper. Nick's wife in Hot Tub Time Machine somehow bullies him into hyphenating his last name after their marriage (because they can't just discuss it like adults, apparently). In Grown-Ups (or the trailer, anyway - I respect myself too much to watch the movie), Kevin James looks on in helpless disgust while his wife continues to breastfeed their four-year-old son against his pleas. In The Proposal, Sandra Bullock forces Ryan Reynolds to marry her for a green card. These are not little indie movies. These are movies that made a ton of money. I also watched a couple episodes of the new ABC sitcom "Happy Endings" recently and, despite the otherwise sharp writing and younger, hipper audience, the character bio of Brad on Wikipedia is just that "he does whatever his wife says."

The other type of CW is found more frequently on TV, in both shows and commercials. The main premise of "According to Jim" was essentially that Jim Belushi hates women. Debra Barone on "Everybody Hates Raymond" looks like a jerk for trying to get Ray to help around the house. As much as I love "Scrubs," Carla would sometimes fall on this spectrum. In the five or so minutes I saw of one episode of "Two and a Half Men," Charlie is annoyed that his girlfriend wants to do something other than have sex, so he pawns her off to his brother so they can do totally lame shit like see movies and have meaningful conversations. The CW also runs rampant in advertising (as does her counterpart, the Castrated Man), such as the Coors Light commercial where a man lies to his girlfriend about studying for the bar exam so he can go out drinking. Dockers' "Wear the Pants" campaign blames disco and salad bars for "leaving men stranded on the road between boyhood and androgyny." There was a similar commercial a couple years back (I don't remember what it was for) about reclaiming your manhood by rejecting your wife's requests to do completely reasonable things like clean your hairs out of the sink after shaving.

These are just what I can think of at the moment. How many times on screen has a man chafed at a request to do housework? How many times has a woman made it her mission to keep her man from attending guys' night out? Why do men and women seem to hate each other so much?

I want to blame the predominantly male writers. But the new NBC show "Whitney," created by comedienne Whitney Cummings, is being promoted with nuggets like "women are like emotional ninjas." So that can't be it. Plus, it hardly helps my crusade to point my finger just at men.

Is it the chicken or the egg? In real as well as reel life I wonder why men hitch themselves to women they seemingly can't stand, or the other way around. Men tell their sons things like "the woman is always right" and try to prep them for dating high-maintenance women; mothers tell their daughters that they can expect men to be infantile and need constant care (my own mother said as much). We perpetuate and enable the worst of each gender by creating conditions in which the bad apples thrive. I always joke that if men knew that women like me existed - women who don't really like girly stuff and take an uncomplicated, rational approach to life - the diva types would die out, Darwin style.

You may notice the pattern that all the examples I cited are comedies. I think another reason that these archetypes rub me the wrong way is because I think that comedy of differences doesn't really make sense in modern culture. I think comedians of all stripes have fully explored all differences between races, sexes, ages, etc. - there's nothing left to say, and in a fragmented society like the United States, why would you want to keep saying it? I'm not saying everyone has to hold hands and be super PC all the time; I love offensive humor as much as the next guy. I just feel that comedy of "isn't it silly when men do this" or "ever notice how all black people do this" is stale and played out. My favorite comedians, sitcoms, and comedic films focus on the humor in either specific individuals or the human race as a whole.

So what, you say? Well, this is a movie blog, and I'm always fighting the good fight for better content on our screens. But furthermore, despite all the real-world knowledge we acquire to the contrary, people still draw on fictional media characters on which to model their own relationships, whether it be a notion of a fairytale Disney romance or the procedure and biology of sex. Honestly, a fair share of couples in sitcoms or comedies are fundamentally mismatched and dysfunctional and are only together for comedic value. But it seems entirely plausible that single and/or younger people viewing this media mistake these relationships for healthy ones. Or perhaps commercials that side with men in saying that cleaning your hair out of the sink is too much to ask will subconsciously bolster their resistance against their wives. It's hardly the downfall of Western civilization, but I do believe that these types of signals are absorbed and digested in ways that can't be quantitatively studied. Pushing past these types of depictions might provoke not only unity, but more creativity as well.

What do you think? Have you noticed this phenomenon, or am I just overthinking it?

The renter's lament

2011-07-06T18:11:00.000-07:00

Remember when Netflix had everything?

Or more accurately, remember when Netflix was enough?

My history with movies by mail goes all the way back to 2005, when my local Blockbuster couldn't keep up with my hunger for classic films. My subsequent subscription to their online division kept me more than satisfied, and after returning home from my freshman year of college I resumed the service. Although the local library made a noble effort, my little Massachusetts burg had virtually nothing to offer the film lover, so Blockbuster Online was an embarrassment of riches. I rented everything from the Chaplin classic The Kid (1921) to the Emir Kusturica epic Underground (1995). I received every blue envelope in the mail with a kind of bashful gratitude - "Really? For me?"

When I started dating my boyfriend in college, I "married into" his Netflix account by default. He still made all the final decisions, but he weighed my input and together we sampled everything Netflix had to offer. He made the leap to the Blu-ray plan when the time came. Around the time we moved in together, Netflix started offering their streaming service. It was a cinephile's heaven, and for a paltry monthly sum!

As the honeymoon phase wore off, some of Netflix's faults became more apparent. We had forgiven it the occasional out-of-stock film in the past. We found ourselves having to go to Movie Madness (our local video store at the time and probably the best one in the universe) to get the preferred version or edition of some titles. We could live with these concessions. But then my boyfriend began to get quite peeved at their omission of some Criterion (and other classic titles) on Blu-ray. From my perspective, there was hardly enough evidence to constitute an epidemic, so I dismissed his concerns as nitpicking.

But time proved him right. Several months later, Criterion announced that they were formally "divorcing" Netflix in favor of Hulu Plus. This meant that Netflix would slowly remove all Criterion titles from streaming and stop purchasing physical copies, whereas Hulu would eventually be streaming the entire Criterion library (plus hundreds more titles that Criterion has the rights to). Coupled with the fact that we were already relying on regular Hulu for TV shows (but skirting the fee by connecting my laptop to the TV set), we started plunking down the $9 a month for Hulu Plus.

THEN one of us noticed that the revamped Blockbuster Online (now Blockbuster Total Access) carries all the Criterion Blu-rays. We went ahead and snagged their free two-week trial, but didn't cancel it in time and now we have it for the next month. Or two. Or three...

When does it end? Currently we have three subscription services, as well as a membership to a local video store and cards for three local library systems. And that's not even considering that we live in LA and see at least two movies in a theater per week. By my count, that's eight different means by which we can watch a movie at any given time. And we don't even have cable - but when we can afford it, you'd better believe we're snatching it up for TCM and AMC. (And that's not even counting single-serving options like Comcast On Demand or Amazon Instant, which we've dabbled in.)

Look, I'm all for competition - it's the cornerstone of capitalism. I'm not one of those people who think that the wide variety of ketchup brands in the supermarket is the downfall of civilization. But at present, all systems of media rental seem to have been ingeniously designed by some evil overseer to each lack a key feature, which necessitates having all of them. Netflix lacks Criterion titles. Hulu lacks movies of any value outside of Criterion (and now Miramax). Blockbuster lacks unlimited streaming. Cable lacks a wide movie selection. Video stores lack flexibility. Libraries frequently lack Blu-rays and can have a limited rotation of new releases. You try to play Jenga and see which services you can add or remove. Maybe getting cable would remove the need for Hulu? Nope, because of the Criterion thing. Well, maybe the library would suffice instead of Netflix? But then you lose streaming.

Again, let me state how grateful I am for the opportunity to see more movies and TV shows than ever before. But with that opportunity comes a compulsion in the hearts of all cinephiles to keep every possible avenue of media open in order to maximize consumption. It's exhausting, and it gets expensive.

What configuration of media services do you have? Is it working for you? Do you want to add or cut down?

Nuggets

2011-06-15T10:56:00.000-07:00

Today's IMDb Hit List spurred me to two film-related discoveries you might want to check out - one for residents of Los Angeles, and one for anyone with a computer.

First, I just found out today about the Debbie Reynolds Hollywood Memorabilia Collection. It appears that Reynolds has been collecting bits of classic Hollywood for decades now, with the hopes of turning it into a museum. Bizarrely, despite featuring over 5,000 props, costumes, and even whole sets from some of history's biggest hits, no investors were interested and the collection is instead headed for auction. Now, again, let me emphasize that this is not obscure ephemera - the collection contains, among other things, Charlie Chaplin's bowler hat, Dorothy's ruby slippers from The Wizard of Oz, and Marilyn Monroe's famous white dress from The Seven Year Itch! There are rumors that her insistence on having her son manage the collection destroyed many potential deals, but that's neither here nor there. Starting this Saturday, these pieces of movie history can go home with whoever ponies up the most cash. "But," you protest, "I am but a shallow-pocketed cinephile who sits around reading second-rate movie blogs! I cannot afford such decadence!" Of course not. But luckily for you, the collection will be open to the public at the Paley Center in Beverly Hills, today through Friday. You can find details here and here. I happen to work nearby, so you better believe that I'll be sneaking over on my lunch break!

For non-Angelenos, here's something everybody can enjoy. NPR has a neat piece about the "secret musical life" of Jack Lemmon, who apparently was never very far from a piano. The article briefly mentions that he released an album of jazz and standards called A Twist of Lemmon in 1959. Intrigued, I hopped on Amazon and found that the 25-track album is available for download! Even if you're just mildly curious, you can check out a preview of each track. It's pretty surprising to discover that the man who played perpetually flustered and nebbish characters is quite the crooner, and a pretty slick pianist as well. I wasn't even totally convinced it was him, until his very recognizable voice crept through in bits. Download one or download em all at Amazon.

Between the lines of "His Girl Friday"

2011-06-14T09:34:00.000-07:00

I found this gem yesterday and just had to share. Somebody edited out all the parts of His Girl Friday (1940) that feature someone talking, leaving an 8-minute short film that still essentially communicates the plot and humor of the full-length version. If you're not familiar with HGF, it's a screwball comedy known for containing one of the highest ratios of dialogue per square inch. It constantly overlaps and barely offers the cast (or the audience) a chance to catch their breath. The wordless version, then, reads kind of like an alternate reality, even though the material is all pulled from the original. Whether or not you've seen the film, you'll love this (particularly if you're a fan of the funny noises Cary Grant makes in his comedies). I've embedded it below for the lazy, or you can find a higher quality version here. Either way, enjoy!

Auteurist amusement parks

2011-05-31T12:04:00.000-07:00

Today's IMDb Daily Poll asks an intriguing question: which filmmaker's work most deserves its own theme park? "Deserves" is probably the wrong word choice, but I got to thinking about which directors' oeuvres are most suited to a theme park. Cinephiles and thrill-seekers alike, rejoice!

Steven Spielberg
Main attraction: By my count, at least four Spielberg films have been adapted into actual theme park attractions. But none of them compare to the thrill of the Minority Report Tilt-A-Whirl, which boasts consistently short lines because anyone who even thinks about riding it is preemptively arrested.

Martin Scorsese
Main attraction: Travis Bickle's Taxi Ride. An animatronic Bickle guides you through the seedy underbelly of a small-scale New York. Hopping out and providing guidance to the various underage prostitues scattered about is encouraged.

Steven Soderbergh
Main attraction: It's hard to say...all the rides are so different...are you sure this is all the same park?

Federico Fellini
Main attraction: The 8 1/2 Coaster. Enjoy the delightful Nino Rota music in the background and pay no attention to the fact that they're building the coaster as you ride it.

Quentin Tarantino
Main attraction: Quentin's Scrambler. The ride itself is an homage to this obscure underground Scrambler that Tarantino rode once in Japan.

Christopher Nolan
Main attraction: Inception Teacups. You're spinning around in a teacup...which is inside a bigger teacup...inside a bigger teacup...

Lars von Trier
Main attraction: Lars' Freefall. It's an excruciating descent into the ground and upon impact, everybody dies.

Robert Altman
Main attraction: Altman's Bumper Cars. Up to 30 people can ride it at once, frequently crisscrossing and interacting.

The Coens
Main attraction: Rooster Cogburn's Wild West Show. With a script completely devoid of contractions!

Woody Allen
Main attraction: Woody's Wooden Kiddie Coaster. See, it's small cuz uh, I get indigestion and the scary rides remind me of my mortality, ya know? JEW already go on it?

Alfred Hitchcock
Main attraction: Hitchcock is the most obvious candidate for his own theme park - where to begin? Get soaked on Marion Crane's Psycho Shower Water Ride. Swing on the Lifeboat Pirate Ship. See the whole park from the Strangers on a Train Miniature Railway (comes with one free murder of your choice), or L.B. Jeffries' Observation Deck. There also used to be a Vertigo roller coaster, which has since been torn down and replaced. Butif they just gave it a new coat of paint, it'd be a dead ringer for the old one...

Stanley Kubrick
Main attraction: Humbert Humbert's Carousel. You must be less than this tall to ride.

What auteur amusement parks would you like to see?

Tick tock

2011-05-17T11:11:00.000-07:00

Be honest - hearing the phrase "24-hour video installation" makes you recoil a little. It sounds like work, not fun - something you experience because it's "good for you," like medicine or exercise. But if you're lucky enough to see a part of Christian Marclay's The Clock, it may be one of the more fun and exciting cinematic experiences you can have this year or any other.

The Clock is a 24-hour film that assembles thousands of movie clips to create a cinematic clock, with shots of timepieces and/or characters stating the time. It also corresponds to real life - when a clock in the film shows 2:37 pm, it's really 2:37 pm. Now, that might be a bit of punishing exercise if that's all there was, but Marclay also lets most clips run a little longer, letting viewers in on the action, suspense, comedy, romance, or horror that made the source film compelling in the first place. Additionally, at least half the clips feature a clock in the background where you'd never notice it otherwise, meaning the primary focus is elsewhere. LACMA (LA's primary art museum) played the film in a good-size theater for an uninterrupted 24 hours, and I managed to head over and watch an hour and a half's worth. In that time, (5:30-7:00 pm), I watched Derek Zoolander and Hansel puzzling over files "in" the computer, Bernstein reminiscing about Charles Foster Kane, George Wells explaining his time machine, Roy Munson making out with Claudia, Guy Haines playing tennis, Rose Loomis getting a refund on a now unnecessary train ticket, Margo Channing taking a car ride, Troy and Gabriella running down the hall, Mr. Banks singing about the consistency of his life, and more. It's the ultimate movie montage, starring every actor and actress imaginable. (Plus, you never need to check your watch!)

I think that's why it's such a hit - when it screened in a tiny gallery in New York, people waited for hours in the cold to catch a glimpse. It doesn't talk down to you. It's egalitarian. It gives equal weight to undisputed classics and throwaway B-movies. You can ponder what its structure means about the passing of time, or you can just have fun trying to identify the clips. You can watch as much or as little as you want. There's truly something for everyone, and as an LA Weekly piece noted, it's rare that a single work generates this much interest.

Anything popular receives an inevitable backlash, however, and many in the art world scowl that it's mundane, unoriginal, or - gasp! - too accessible. I say that anyone complaining about people coming out in droves to experience art is way off base. If nothing else, you can make the Harry Potter argument - "hey, maybe the books aren't masterpieces, but at least it's getting kids to read." To me, The Clock has the earnestness and transparency of, say, an 18th-century portrait; the artist in both cases is saying "I used my skills to produce something aesthetically pleasing that I hope you enjoy."

And lest you think Marclay is merely a passive curator, let me stress that his editorial skills are indeed stunning. With grace and humor, he intercuts clips to create themed sections or new meanings. Characters from different films have telephone conversations, eyelines match, someone opens a black and white door to a color world, various cinematic train stations are cut together as one. The audience loved, for instance, when crosscutting made it appear that Helen Morse in Picnic at Hanging Rock was flirting with Kurt Russell (in some film I couldn't identify). A surge of chimes, shrieks, and whistles often signal the change of an hour. I'm also told that it gets really exciting at midnight, but I can't verify that personally.

So why am I telling you this, since it was a one-day only engagement that has just ended? To gloat! (Kidding, kidding!) Seriously, though, if you live in LA, you still have a chance to catch The Clock, at least partially. Apparently LACMA formally acquired the piece, and will have it playing in some capacity in their Art of the Americas wing through the end of July. Unfortunately, it will only be during regular museum hours, so the 9 pm to 11 am portions will remain a mystery. And don't hold your breath for a DVD release - holy rights issues, Batman! I could see it having sort of a roadshow presence in years to come, however, in a similar fashion to the similarly clip-laden Los Angeles Plays Itself. Basically, if any opportunity arises to see it, GO! Even the most modest of cinephiles will get a kick out of it.

Angelenos, New Yorkers, or Londoners: have you had a chance to check out The Clock? Or would you want to?

USA Network's Character Project

2011-05-15T23:07:00.000-07:00

A couple of weeks ago, I received an email inviting me to to the exclusive LA premiere of the USA Network's Character Project short films. It seemed pretty legit - eight new short films produced by Tony and Ridley Scott, a discussion moderated by Elvis Mitchell, non-transferable invitations, and free hors d'oeuvres. I immediately assumed that I had received this email for one of the following reasons:

1. By mistake
2. As part of an elaborate murder plot devised by someone who knows I am unable to resist free hors d'oeuvres

I ruled out the first reason pretty quickly, since I have a pretty unusual name and the person inviting me was citing my blog in some detail. The second seemed more accurate, but since the screening was at the Arclight (10 minutes from my apartment), I figured it was worth a shot (but I brought along my boyfriend for security).

I am happy to report that there were no murder attempts - at least as far as I could tell. Rather, I was treated to a delightful evening of entertainment courtesy of a network that I must commend for trying something different.

For six years now, "Characters Welcome" has been the slogan of the USA Network. In recent years, the network decided to move past it as a mere catchphrase and actually use it as a springboard for a concept, and thus the Character Project was born. Last year's incarnation was a photography exhibit, where 11 renowned photographers took to the streets to capture the character of America. This year took it a step further, as the network commissioned eight short films about interesting characters, both real and fictional. I'll admit that I'm totally oblivious to the world of short films - it's such a huge, uncurated mess that I tend to ignore them entirely. Technology like digital cameras and YouTube have provided great platforms for shorts, but they've also chipped away at the legitimacy of the form - after all, doesn't a Funny or Die sketch or a montage of your dog technically count as a short film? But I have to give kudos to the USA Network for reminding its audience of the prestige and quality that shorts can have. Below is a rundown of each film, accompanied by my thoughts.

Duck (dir. Jakob Daschek): Duck features no quacking animals but instead tells the story of 10-year-old Emmanuel, who suffers from an extreme fear of being touched (haphephobia, as it's apparently called). Now, it's normal to not be a touchy-feely person, but Emmanuel goes to great lengths to avoid even brushing by someone on a crowded bus. Fearing for his development and facing complaints from teachers, Emmanuel's mother signs him up for boxing lessons. Now, I know this is a short, but the film offers no explanation as to why his mother chose this strangely specific course of action - she just suddenly drops him off at a gym. There, Emmanuel discovers that his supposed weakness could work for him in a way he never knew. The film was well-acted, especially by the surprisingly soulful boy in the lead, and aesthetically confident except for a bit of an over-reliance on the handheld camera. Daschek did say in the Q&A, however, that a lot had to be cut to keep it within the time limit, and there was somewhat of a pervading feeling that the film was fighting against its short length.

Fish (dir RJ Cutler): Cutler is best known for helming the documentary The September Issue, which takes a behind-the-scenes look at editor Anna Wintour's efforts to assemble said issue of Vogue. He provides another entry in the people-doing-their-job genre with Fish, which documents chef Jon Shook's efforts to get his new seafood restaurant off the ground. Now, Shook isn't just any chef - with partner Vinny Dotolo and virtually no experience, he opened Animal, which quickly became LA's hottest restaurant. Shook is a fascinating contradiction because on one hand, he's a dudebro from Florida who opened the restaurant because he "never really felt like working for anybody else," and on the other hand his skills and expertise have made him one of the top chefs in the world. The seafood restaurant Son of a Gun is his latest venture, and in keeping with his dedication to providing fresh and local food he goes out fishing and sees what he can make from his catch (which ends up being some bizarre fish I've never heard of). Cooking, like nuclear physics, is one of those disciplines that I am completely unable to wrap my head around. And I get frustrated by recipes - cooks have to invent their own, and unlike other art forms the result has to look AND taste good. My boyfriend lamented that the film seemed a bit "reality show-esque," but for all the junk on Bravo and TLC these days, their earlier shows like "Project Runway" are truly compelling displays of professional skill and creative problem-solving. That kind of problem-solving also creates suspense and drives a narrative - hell, it's basically the meat of the Bourne trilogy. Plus, Cutler resisted the urge of many documentarians to crowd the film with intertitles, graphics, and over-editing, letting the story tell itself organically. Coming from someone who can barely boil water, I have to say that I quite enjoyed Fish.

Love Without Regret (dir. Tomás Peña): This film was listed in the program, but not shown. So yeah. The only explanation I can think of is that the synopsis seemed to prominently mention the use of a Lexus CT Hybrid, meaning perhaps it was more of a commercial...?

Monster Slayer (dir. Caskey): This film is a narrative that tells the story of Ben, a young man suffering from an unspecified psychiatric disorder. It opens with his girlfriend calling him out for avoiding his medication, the outcome of which becomes apparent as Ben starts seeing a host of fanciful characters. It begins innocently enough in the form of a cute little girl with wings (who, it should be noted, appeared in costume at the premiere), but the characters intensify in size, aggression, and construction, eventually putting him face-to-face with menacing stop-motion beasts. Somewhat reminiscent of an indie A Beautiful Mind, the audience starts out wondering why on earth Ben wouldn't take his medication, but we come to see how much a part of him these characters are. On paper, this film sounded obnoxious - the combination of stop-motion animation and mental illness sounds like a student film gone wrong. Turns out, however, that it navigates a tricky subject well and avoids the obvious pitfalls. The characters are sympathetic and real, the creatures are imaginative, and it doesn't overstay its welcome.

Perfect (dir. Amie Steir): Of all the films, Perfect was the most traditional narrative and seemed the likeliest candidate for expansion into a feature, but without feeling abridged. It's also the most star-studded of the bunch, featuring Carla Gallo (recognizable for having a kooky bit part in almost every Judd Apatow production) and Tony Hale ("Arrested Development"), as well as talented newcomer Maria Blasucci in the lead. Unless you're an only child, you can probably relate in some way to the story, which concerns Anne (Blasucci) being overshadowed on her wedding day by the arrival of her beautiful, perfect sister Sara (Gallo). Steir mines some great comedy from Sara's hyperbolic achievements, amplifying them in the context of the small-town setting. Events take a hilarious and rather touching turn as Sara hogs more and more attention...but not for the reasons you'd think. I'd also have to say that this film was the most confidently directed of the night, possibly because Steir was, surprisingly, the only director to have helmed other shorts (also featuring some big names, which would explain her ease with actors).

The Dude (dir. Jeff Feuerzeig): Everyone knows the character of the Dude, immortalized by Jeff Bridges in The Big Lebowski. But did you know that he was based on a real person? Indeed, film producer Jeff Dowd served as the inspiration to his friends Joel and Ethan Coen in creating the character. Unfortunately, Feuerzeig has so much faith in the appeal of his subject that he slacks in the director's chair. There are many aspects to Dowd's personality and life, and Feuerzeig tries frantically to touch on all of them in the film's short running time. We hear about his political activism and involvement in the Seattle Seven, his film career, his friendship with the Coens, follow him to a Lebowski Fest, and even see him re-enact the beginning of Lebowski shot-for-shot, all while being drowned in excessive camera angles and other stylistic choices. For all of that, the film barely touched on what about Dowd led to the creation of the Dude - there's little more than a throwaway sentence about the Coens picking up on some of his mannerisms. Now, it may seem harsh to say that Feuerzeig mismanaged his subject, and I might not lay all of the blame on him if I hadn't seen Dowd in person. He was the rock star of the premiere, liberally distributing hugs and being trailed by an ever-expanding pack of groupies. Even before we knew who he was, my boyfriend and I could just tell that he had to be somebody famous. In a way, I learned more about Dowd from just seeing him mill around than I did from the film. Although I was the most excited for this film coming in, I found it to be the most disappointing.

The Fickle (dir. Bryan Poyser): There's not much to say about this one other than the fact that it's a simple concept done incredibly well. Expanding on the conceit that all your insignificant sexual and romantic encounters kind of blur together, the film is a SINGLE SHOT depiction of a morning with a nameless hookup, as portrayed by about two dozen different men. The choreography is so seamless that I didn't even realize until the director mentioned it later that it was in fact a single shot. It's the very definition of short and sweet, and truly embraces the form.

Wyckoff Place (dir. Lauri Faggioni): Based on a highly unscientific assessment of buzz, this seemed to be the crowd favorite. The film is a documentary chronicling several children of various racial, ethnic, and socioeconomic backgrounds living in harmony in a Brooklyn apartment building. I know that sounds like a cheesy 80s TV show that exploits kids of different backgrounds for laughs and "awww"s, but it didn't play that way at all. I can't stand children and wince whenever they're used for cuteness or comic relief, but Faggioni seemed genuinely interested in discovering what makes these kids tick. She explained in the Q&A that she expected the kids to be more aware of each other's differences, but said that their primary concern was the impenetrable Berlin Wall of boy vs. girl. That isn't to say that the boys and girls didn't play together and get along, but they were constantly aware of that insurmountable divide. As someone with a great interest in psychology and sociology, I loved watching the scenes of the kids playing together and seeing the complex social and power structures that formed. Special mention goes to scene-stealer Clark, an eight-year-old with the vocabulary and awareness of someone three times his age. In all likelihood, based on his behavior and speech patterns, he had Asperger's or ranked higher than average on the autism spectrum, but he was still liked by his peers and had apparently captured the hearts of all the girls. For all this rich material, Faggioni seemed a bit overwhelmed by the task of editing, and mentioned that she had hours and hours of footage she regretted having to leave on the cutting room floor. Indeed, this could easily be a feature, and seemed to struggle against its length. Consequently I also had some trouble keeping the kids straight, since the editing made it unclear who the "main" kids were supposed to be and other kids meandered through without so much as an introduction. Ultimately, however, Faggioni's hands-off approach provides a good (if somewhat uneven) platform for the great material.

Lucky for you commoners who don't get invited to premieres, you still have a chance to catch these films. If you live in LA, Chicago, or San Francisco (or New York and you have access to a time machine, since it was this past weekend), you can attend a touring roadshow that apparently takes place in tiny, state-of-the-art screening rooms made from shipping containers WHAAAT?! True story, folks. If you do not live in the aforementioned cities, you can check them out online. Although that may seem like the more appealing choice, those tiny magical screening rooms sound pretty sweet. Anything and everything can be found at the Character Project website. Support USA Network's effort to be more than "that channel with the Law and Order reruns!" (I'm not being facetious - I think it's really cool of them.)

Check out the films and let me know what you think!

(Special thanks to Emily Garvey of 360i for inviting me to this event. All images courtesy of USA Network.)

TCM Classic Film Festival wrap-up - Part II

2011-05-08T09:05:00.000-07:00

When we last left our intrepid heroine, she was leaving a screening of Pennies From Heaven and talking in the third person. I went straight from there to La Dolce Vita. I had seen the film before and been underwhelmed, but at my boyfriend's urging (it's one of his favorites), I decided to give it another shot. Mankiewicz introduced the film by saying that "la dolce vita" is Italian for "Donald Trump is an idiot" (heh), but on a more insightful note he said that you could watch the film without subtitles and still understand everything that was going on. I bore that in mind while viewing, and it turned out to be surprisingly true.

Lobby card provided at the screening

The technical details deserve special mention. The presentation was a joint restoration by the Film Foundation and Gucci, and it looked GORGEOUS - the FF does not mess around. Even better was the fact that we were sitting fairly close and the screen was huge, so we were positively enveloped in the shimmery silvery goodness. Since the film (at least for me) was mostly an aesthetic experience, the nature of the viewing really made a difference. There was trouble in paradise, however - just before the famous fountain scene, the sound cut out! It turned out to be a problem with something on the projector called the "exciter" (Mankiewicz: "I can't believe there's something called the exciter"), but they fixed it, rewound it, and all was right with the world again.

As for the film itself...well...

Going back to what Mankiewicz said, perhaps the film would have been better off without dialogue. To me, it just reads as a serious of vignettes in a short span of one man's life, but you keep expecting that with a three-hour running time it's going to add up to something. It doesn't, really. I'm okay with that type of film in theory, but I guess that for the amount of time invested, I wanted to know more about the character of Marcello; he seemed like more of a vehicle to take us through the events. There are certainly some indelible images and great scenes, but perhaps I just don't have the stamina for whatever brilliance lies within.

I hadn't planned on attending anything on Sunday, but then I received word that two of the films I had regrettably missed were getting encore showings. Thus, I headed on down to the craziness that calls itself Hollywood Blvd and got in line for This Is The Night. The film has been nearly impossible to see for decades, and although I hadn't heard of it prior to its inclusion in the festival, the promise of screwball misunderstandings and a young Cary Grant was all I needed to hear. The crowd received a warm introduction to the film by film scholar Foster Hirsch, who provided some historical background and said of its sauciness, "if you think 'wait, did I just hear them say that?' - you really did."

Three men and a javelin

And indeed, like the best pre-Code flicks it had scandalousness to spare: unpunished adultery, allegedly heterosexual men drunkenly saying they love each other, women's dresses constantly being torn off, javelins as phallic symbols, and enough double entendres to make Michael Scott blush. It's far from perfect - far too much screen time is given to the cardboard Lily Damita, in a role that really could've been something with a talent like Joan Blondell or Carole Lombard. Plus, although it was Grant's screen debut and he's fifth-billed, you can't help but want to see more of him. Having said that, it's a lot of fun, with great gags and one-liners set against a beautifully fake Paris and Venice (tinted blue for night scenes). It's like Lubitsch lite, and there are far worse ways to spend 80 minutes. If that sounds good to you, you're in luck: TCM has rescued the film from obscurity and released it as a double feature with the Marlene Dietrich rarity Song of Songs.

Speaking of Dietrich, I returned to the theater that evening to see MoMA's restoration of the final Josef von Sternberg / Dietrich collaboration, The Devil Is A Woman. Minutes before it started, my boyfriend told me the news about bin Laden (he has an iPhone), and it was strange to possess that knowledge in a room full of classic film fans who didn't. I put that aside to mentally process later, and settled in for some von Sternberg lusciousness. The print looked beautiful, as did Marlene, of course. The character of Concha is in some ways the quintessential Dietrich character - seductive, alluring, destroyer of men - but she's also borderline sociopathic. I don't mean that as a criticism of the character or the film; rather, it's the simplest way to convey Concha's proclivity for toying with human lives for pure amusement. Typically the Dietrich character's soft spots and desires are revealed throughout a film, but here she doesn't appear to have any.

No words necessary.

It's fairly bleak, but surprisingly lively, and somewhat humorous to the absurd extent that men let her betray them repeatedly. Not only is Marlene beautiful, but everything that surrounds her is too - from the extravagant trappings of Carnival Week in Spain to the unbelievably ornate costumes and accessories that only she could pull off. It's a must for Marlene fans, and probably a good introduction for neophytes as well.

I left the theater that night lamenting that the festival was over, and wishing it could go on year-round. My boyfriend pointed out, however, that living in LA basically is a year-round film festival. I had to agree. But that doesn't mean I won't be totally amped for next year's fest.

Did you attend the festival? What was your experience? If you couldn't make it, what would you have liked to see?

TCM Classic Film Festival wrap-up - Part I

2011-05-03T11:14:00.000-07:00

Last year, while the first-ever TCM Classic Film Festival took place in Hollywood, I followed the proceedings online from several thousand miles away while seething with envy. This year, I walked 10 minutes from my apartment and experienced it firsthand, and I was in absolute hog heaven. As is the case with many festivals, everyone's experience is different, so I thought I'd share mine.

THURSDAY

I didn't attend any screenings, but I half-coincidentally stumbled upon the red carpet arrivals for the festival. I planted myself on the sidewalk opposite the action, and before long I spotted the silver stallion known as Robert Osborne ("Bobsborne," as I call him). As my boyfriend can tell you, I have an utter obsession with Bobsborne that frequently manifests with me screaming "HE'S A NATIONAL TREASURE!" In all seriousness, though, as the face of TCM he really has done great things for the world of classic cinema, and I know even my boyfriend begrudgingly respects him. Unfortunately, I didn't have my camera, but I savored his classiness from across the street.

Before long I heard two girls behind me wondering what they were witnessing, and I told them. We got to chatting, and I learned that they were visiting from Wisconsin and had only been here for an hour. In that hour they would go on to see more celebrities than I had seen in three months of living in LA. We became celeb-spotting buddies, teaming up with other people around us to deduce the identity of the faraway and partially obscured faces. Ultimately I saw Peter O'Toole, Kate Flannery (Meredith from "The Office"), Ben McKenzie, Tippi Hedren, Ben Mankiewicz (the other TCM host), Illeana Douglas, Priscilla Presley, and Hugh Hefner with his fiancee (also flanked by an additional Playboy Bunny, presumably for symmetry). Later internet research revealed I had also seen Ann Rutherford, Hayley Mills, and Patricia Ward Kelly (Gene Kelly's widow). That sated my craving for celebrity sightings for a while!

Hef and his ladies (picture courtesy of someone with a significantly better view)

FRIDAY
I had work during the day, but the night was dedicated to a screening of Spartacus in the legendary Grauman's Chinese Theater - with Kirk Douglas in attendance! Not being a passholder, I got into the line for mere mortals (standby) over an hour early and there were 50 people ahead of me. They managed to get the whole standby line in - no small feat, considering that the 1100-seat venue was completely sold out. I had never been inside the Chinese, and lemme tell ya, they hold all the premieres there for a reason. Bobsborne took the stage, and as far as I was concerned, I was seeing the Beatles circa 1964.

Then Kirk came out, to thunderous applause and a standing ovation. He's slowed down by age and by the stroke he had many years ago, but his mind and wit are as sharp as ever and he has the same twinkle in his eye (or so I presume - I was sitting pretty far back). He was quick to point out that he was only 94 and wouldn't be 95 until December, and finished all his rambling trains of thought with a cheeky "did that answer your question?" Though it's common knowledge to many film buffs, it was great to hear the man himself rehash stories of how his devil-may-care attitude merged with his social conscience to implement changes in Hollywood. Specifically, he recalled his insistence that blacklisted screenwriter Dalton Trumbo be properly credited for Spartacus, and his reaction upon reading the script for Paths of Glory: "This picture won't make a nickel, but we have to do it." Douglas also said that his personal favorite film he did was a 1962 curio called Lonely Are the Brave, where he plays a cowboy unable to adjust to modern life. I've seen the film and didn't really care for it, but Douglas was great as always and I could see how it's a role an actor could really connect with. He concluded by expressing humble gratitude to the hordes of people who came out to see a film he made over 50 years ago.

Despite the darkness and 10x digital zoom, I assure you that this is Kirk Douglas and Bobsborne.

The film itself, which I hadn't seen before, was predictably great. The famous Alex North score hooks you from the overture and doesn't let go. Although I have a short attention span and long movies typically make me fidgety, this one held my attention pretty well (although I was rather sleepy at the end from having worked that day). As with most epic films, I enjoyed the first half a lot more, since it contained the origin story part (as compared to the second half of this or any epic, which usually consists of large battles and cramming in huge chunks of time and plot). The film was infamously a director-for-hire gig for Stanley Kubrick and is derided for not being very Kubrickian, but there were definite echoes of Paths of Glory in the stark life-and-death reality of the gladiators' lives. Douglas' charisma anchors the thing, but the supporting cast is one for the ages, and was apparently made possible by Douglas basically lying to each actor about the size of his part. Peter Ustinov in particular stands out, providing comic relief in an Oscar-winning role, as does Charles Laughton and a delightfully miscast Tony Curtis bringing his Noo Yawk accent to ancient Rome. I was glad I hadn't gotten around to seeing the film before, because this was certainly the way to do it!

SATURDAY
I decided that I didn't have the energy for a 9:30 A.M. showing of This Is the Night, so I hung tight until the 3:30 showing of Citizen Kane. It was my fourth or fifth time seeing it, but my first on the big screen. Ben Mankiewicz came out to introduce the film, and while I grumbled at being deprived of my beloved Bobsborne, I had a change of heart after remembering that Kane was cowritten by Mankiewicz' grandfather (which BMank made a point of mentioning several times, as Welles notoriously took full credit).

Also present was Norman Lloyd, an actor who appeared in a range of films as well as being a member of Welles' Mercury Theater. Asked to compare Welles to Hitchcock (who directed Lloyd in Saboteur and Spellbound), Lloyd said that Hitchcock was essentially a storyteller, while Welles was more invested in the theatricality of cinema. He also shared a great anecdote about Welles: upon discovering ex-partner John Houseman's plans to produce a film adaptation of Julius Caesar (which the two had previously staged for the theater), Welles threw a can at Houseman's head in a restaurant and shouted "you stole MY play!" Extreme, sure, but as Lloyd noted, the world needs people who are that passionate about their material.

Norman Lloyd and Ben Mankiewicz (I promise!)

Kane was presented as a digital restoration, but I was somewhat disappointed to discover that the picture quality wasn't anything exceptional (maybe it was just me?). Nonetheless, time spent watching Citizen Kane is always time well spent. For the intimidating behemoth of cinema that it seems to be, it's actually quite compulsively watchable (and re-watchable). Once you're familiar with the "meat" of the story, you can savor the little details, like Agnes Moorehead's brief but chilling performance, Jed Leland saying "dramatic crimicism" while drunk, or Bernstein's great anecdote about the lady in the white dress.

From there, I scrambled off to catch Pennies From Heaven. Illeana Douglas introduced the film, which I hadn't seen before, and offered some amusing Christopher Walken stories. Apparently he has a penchant for breaking out into song and dance not only on set, but while cameras are rolling. She also recalled that they used to carpool to a film set together, and one morning he wasn't in the car. About half the ride passed before she realized he was in the backseat, to which he replied in his typical Walken manner "Sometimes I like to disappear. I don't tell anyone."

The film was fantastic, and I'm glad the festival gave it some love. It's pretty much a Fred and Ginger musical with all the harsh realities of life (and the Depression) thrown in - poverty, prostitution, sexual fetishes, adultery, murder, and hopelessness. It sounds like a strange combination - and it is - but it works on a meta level, combining the escapist entertainment of that time with the lives of the suffering people viewing it. Steve Martin is great in the lead, walking a line between pathos and comedy, and is ably supported by Bernadette Peters and Jessica Harper. And let's not forget Christopher Walken, playing a sleazy pimp with a knack for tap dancing. Now, I had heard about his performance in this film and figured that people were grading on a curve - that is, praising his ability because it's more than you'd expect of Christopher Walken. Not so. Had he been born earlier (and had a different mug), he would have been Gene Kelly. Peters and Martin show off their moves too - Martin spent months in training, and it shows. The only thing that was somewhat odd was that none of the actors sang their own songs, despite being notably capable singers. Instead, old recordings are used, which does lend a nice period vibe but still seems like a waste. Also a bummer was that the film print, which was allegedly new in honor of the film's 30th anniversary, looked like a VHS dub. Even though the theater was only about half full, the crowd was great, applauding enthusiastically after every dance number.

A still from Pennies From Heaven...look familiar?

In the next installment, I'll cover Saturday night through the end. I know you can only handle so much of me at once.

Aural pleasure

2011-04-25T15:35:00.000-07:00

Tired of what's on your iPod? Craving something new for your boring workdays or commute? If you meet that criteria AND consider yourself a fan of classic Hollywood, then I have a solution for you.

Having exhausted my music library while working at my data entry job, I thought I'd try to find some old-timey radio shows streaming online. The results fall into two basic categories - narrative shows and variety. The narrative shows can be a lot of fun too (frequently adaptation of popular movies, often with the original stars), but today I'm really into a variety show called Command Performance.

It appears to have been a wartime show that ran in the 40s, and was transmitted directly to troops overseas. There was no regular host - the hosts and guests were "nominated" every week by the requests of servicemen (although a small batch of usual suspects tended to dominate hosting duties). The roster of talent is a who's who of the era - Crosby, Hope, Garland, Sinatra, Bogart, Bacall, you name it. Although some of the humor hasn't aged so well, it's surprising how much of it has. It's great to hear these stars letting loose and ripping on each other - I learned, for instance, that Frank Sinatra's small build was a source of great amusement among his peers (seriously, every episode he was on was a merciless assault on his manliness). Even though the shows are scripted, the constant teasing, giggling, and in-jokes of the stars makes you feel like a fly on the wall at a Hollywood party.

Listen in here or here, or download episodes via iTunes. (Note: some of the shows seem to consist almost entirely of musical performances, so you may have to shuffle around a bit.)

This discovery has definitely brightened my Monday. And if that wasn't enough, apparently one of their special episodes was an hourlong musical adaptation of Dick Tracy! Enjoy!

Does the communal aspect of moviegoing really matter?

2011-04-07T11:25:00.000-07:00

There is no doubt or disagreement that movies are best viewed on the big screen. If you present people with the option to view a film any way they choose, if all methods were equally priced and equally convenient then the theater would win out every time. Even all the kids watching movies on their iWhatsits wouldn't argue that point. Unfortunately, however, the iWhatsits - along with various other forms of digital and personal media - are killing off movie theaters, as every critic and blogger is quick to note.

But many are also quick to note (Manohla Dargis, most recently) that the death of theaters doesn't just extend to the physical structures containing large screens, but the communal viewing experience. We're watching movies sequestered away in our homes, or on tiny screens that only one person can view at a time. Many articles cite this phenomenon as the biggest casualty in the shift away from traditional moviegoing. I am alone, then, in wondering why it's such a big tragedy?

Dargis' article spells out in numerous ways how audiences are becoming fragmented, but doesn't really explain why that's a bad thing. She boasts that she spent two hours waiting in the cold to see Raging Bull with other eager beavers, but doesn't really articulate why or if that made the viewing experience better. I watched Raging Bull by myself on DVD and it was still fantastic. Ultimately, she just comes off as scared and resentful that times are changing.

The biggest argument in favor of communal viewing is shared emotions, which I don't entirely disagree with. However, there are really only some genres that benefit. Comedies obviously receive a boost when a whole crowd is laughing along, and some shrieks and gasps might enhance a horror flick. But that's about it, and even then an audience doesn't always improve the experience. I've seen comedies where the jokes weren't connecting with anyone in the audience but me, and the silence surrounding my laughter was stifling. Similarly, an excessively vocal viewer can deflate the tension in a suspenseful film.

But what about drama? Documentary? Mystery? Isn't the best you can hope for that people just shut up and you forget that they're present? The whole notion that you're, like, sharing an emotional mindspace or whatever is a bit new-agey for me. How often in a theater are you really existing in that mindspace instead of thinking "wow, that's incredibly sad" or "LOLZ" or "so it's a dream WITHIN a dream?!" The best case scenario, at least in my opinion, is that the film is absorbing enough that you forget everything else.

People can be assholes at the theater. Even in the earliest days of cinema, moviegoers had to contend with women's ornate headpieces. Those days are gone, but we still have talkers, texters, shushers, hecklers, chewers, coughers, latecomers, indiscriminate laughers, crazy homeless yellers, and crying/screaming children. And let's not forget the occasional patron who stabs people with a meat thermometer. The odds are really stacked against you when you enter a theater, and yet most people manage to behave themselves. But are they really adding anything to your experience? Would an empty matinee showing be less enjoyable than a packed evening one, even one packed with perfectly behaved viewers?

I've had many solo or intimate viewing experiences that I wouldn't trade for the world. I watched the entire five and a half hour TV version of Ingmar Bergman's contemplative Fanny and Alexander with my boyfriend in our gloriously quiet apartment. I've watched comedies with a handful of friends that share my exact comedic wavelength. I've helped my boyfriend plan around his then-roommates' schedules so we could watch certain films in a sacred zone free of interruption. I've watched some kooky and/or culty films alone or with my boyfriend, knowing full well that the mysterious spells they cast would have been violently obliterated by nonstop seizures of laughter from audience members who interpret anything slightly off as riotously funny. Some films need room to breathe, and a packed house can suffocate it.

The line is also blurry when you consider television. Another favorite topic of bloggers these days is how we're in a TV renaissance, with content like Mad Men and Breaking Bad resembling, rivalling, and often surpassing what we can see in a theater. Where's the demand for these shows to have a communal experience? Why do we need to watch all films (even subpar ones) in a theater for the full experience, but no one questions that we're watching similarly (or more) cinematic content at home on TV? Probably because, like movies in a theater, that's just how it's always been done.

I'll keep going to the theater, because I want to see films sooner and because the presentation is better than it would be at home. I don't just dismiss the whole experience in one fell swoop - none of this "stupid kids and their Inceptions and textphones and it all costs a million dollars and I'll just stay home!" nonsense. (And by the way, all those articles saying that a night at the movies for a family of four costs more than a Porsche can suck it. Go sometime other than Saturday night at 7:00pm, find a coupon, bring your own damn food, and quit whining.) But when I strike it rich, I'm building myself my own personal Arclight and shipping in new prints every day for myself and my closest friends. You should probably start sucking up to me now, just in case.

What do you think? Is the communal aspect of moviegoing important to you?

Movie Memories: Dunston Checks In

2011-04-01T14:58:00.000-07:00

In the last edition of Movie Memories, I teased an upcoming feature involving a very minor celebrity. And now that time has come. Get pumped.

It just so happened one day that I found myself watching Dunston Checks In, a kiddie flick detailing the escapades of a rascally orangutan and the patrons of a luxury hotel, with its star. Unfortunately I'm not referring to the monkey, but rather its child star, Eric Lloyd.

How did this come to pass?

I never went to a sleepaway camp in the traditional sense, but in the summer before my junior year of high school, I went to film camp. The knee-jerk reaction of comparing it to band camp upon first hearing the phrase is actually rather apt - it's a group of teenagers with raging hormones thrown together in a residential environment to hone a craft. It was a one-month program at Harvard where we produced several short films on 16mm, from soup to nuts. And man, it was a wild ride. I had crushes on at least four guys, at least four had crushes on me, and three of those ended up going somewhere (four if you count the guy who intermittently stalked me for years afterward). There were friends and enemies, heartbreak and rapture, celluloid and digital. I learned a lot about myself. And I learned who Eric Lloyd was.

Barely two hours after arriving at camp, buzz started to circulate that there was a celebrity in our midst. It wasn't immediately obvious, because the individual in question was known primarily as a child star, but it was soon revealed that our fellow camper was "the kid from the Santa Clause movies, y'know, the one who plays Tim Allen's son." He tried to downplay this fact in his introductions, but begrudgingly admitted that it was true. He said he was interested in being on the other side of the camera, however, and we mostly respected that and dropped the subject.

Until the last night, that is.

We were all high off the accomplishment of finishing our final projects, which we had screened earlier that day. In the final week, someone figured out that our dorm building had a "secret" basement with a huge TV and foosball table that no one had bothered to tell us about. Despite the fact that over the course of the session, the campers had sort of split into two factions (myself being one of the few people who could claim membership in both), we all came together on this joyful night. While debating how to celebrate, someone suggested that we watch Dunston Checks In. This would have been a very strange suggestion indeed, if not for the fact that we would have the unique opportunity of watching it with its star, seven years after its release. Everyone jumped at the idea - except Eric, naturally. I have to say, however, that he proved to be a tremendously good sport about the entire affair. He was actually a really nice guy, and seemed immune to the cool kid repellent I seem to have mixed into my bloodstream.

I'm not even sure why this movie was so readily available (perhaps someone had rented it just in case?), but someone got it and popped it in. Eric was planted front and center on the couch, so everyone could watch him squirm. Watching embarassing home movies is hard enough - imagine if your childhood antics and awkwardness were preserved as major theatrical releases? He really took it in stride, though. Whenever we glanced at him after a particularly groan-inducing bit, he just gave a shrug and a chuckle. We really weren't trying to humiliate him - it was more for the trippy experience of watching the screen, then turning around and seeing the same person seven years older. (Cries of "he's on the screen! he's right here!" punctuated the first third or so of the movie). He even provided behind-the-scenes commentary - we learned, for example, that costar Jason Alexander is a trained masseuse and offered massages on set. (Seinfeld fans, insert "it moved" joke here.)

So there we were, a bunch of cinema-loving teens, watching an unapologetically bad kids' movie on our last night together. Yet instead of the snarky irony that usually accompanies such occasions, the mood here was strangely warm and affectionate, possibly because we would all be parting ways the next day. It's possible that I'm just remembering it incorrectly, but it remains in my memory as a happy ending to a crazy month.

In defense of this year's Oscars

2011-03-09T06:31:00.000-08:00

In the wake of the 83rd Academy Awards, a disproportionately large wave of outrage and disgust swept the interwebs. Apparently, so many viewers felt utterly violated by the ineptitude of hosts Anne Hathaway and James Franco that the head of the Academy more or less issued an apology. In a hyperbolic Fox News poll, 57% of respondents said it was the worst Oscars ever. Was the show really that bad?

Of course it wasn't! In fact, I found it to be quite enjoyable and well done (especially compared to last year, with hosts Alec Baldwin and Steve Martin off their game and the sullen-looking stars of Twilight presenting a random horror movie montage). But the main problem with the Oscars these days is that it's locked in a standoff between the producers and the viewers.

The producers are bending over backwards trying to appeal to younger viewers, and in doing so are alienating and ignoring the older viewers who make up the majority of the audience. They're also constantly on the defense, hiring different creative personnel every year and trying to distance themselves from whatever came before. But then instead of actually trying to figure out what viewers want - reaching out to the public through focus groups, polls, what have you - they just come up with ideas in a vacuum and hope for the best.

The viewers, for their part, seem to approach the awards unwilling to like them. They refuse to like any host except for the all-stars of 20+ years ago. They say the hosts don't have enough good banter, but then they complain when the show gets too long. Maybe this seems cynical, but it reminds me of people who declare that "they don't make movies like they used to" but then shut out modern movies entirely and thus miss many that they would actually enjoy.

Basically, it's all a tangled mess of wrong moves and prejudices, so viewing the actual show objectively can be near impossible. However, if you can manage it, I think you'll be pleasantly surprised. Here's what I was digging this year:

- KIRK DOUGLAS! When they brought him out, I nearly plotzed. I don't care that he took forever - he's a 95-year-old legend who still puts moves on the ladies. They should have him host next year - the show will be 12 hours long, and AWESOME.

- Every year they spend millions of dollars on the set...and it ends up looking the same. It was great, then, to see them do something different (projecting different movie scenes and backgrounds onto the multi-layered arches).

- The Inception-based intro was seamless and hilarious.

- I had a good chuckle every time Hathaway blurted out "It's the young, hip Oscars!"

- And speaking of the hosts, yes, maybe they won't enter the hall of fame, but that's no reason to burn them at the stake. Hathaway was effervescent and charming as always, and Franco was...Franco. He wasn't high, he wasn't insane, he was just being James Franco. I'm not sure what the Academy thought they were getting when they hired him - you need only Google him for five minutes to find out about his, uh, "personality" - but I kind of enjoyed watching him have the last laugh by just being his kooky self.

- Whoa, it's Barack Obama! And he loves "As Times Goes By"!

- Presenting the awards in groups of two gave things a nice flow.

- I'll agree that the two-year experiment of having former winners say nice things about the nominees was a bit much, but I thought it was really nice to have one person dish out all the compliments. Having said that, I fully concede that it probably only worked because the presenters in question were the endlessly warm and lovable Sandra Bullock and Jeff Bridges. If the duty fell exclusively to, say, Sean Penn, that would just be terrifying.

- I'm glad they scrapped the little presentations of each Best Picture nominee. They're basically just trailers, which by Oscar night everyone's seen a hundred times already. And yeah, maybe John Doe somewhere doesn't yet know the plot and cast of The Kids Are All Right, but that doesn't mean that they have to take up broadcast time pandering to him. But I loved what they did instead, which was the...

- MEGA-MONTAGE! Having seen all the nominated films (and naturally, their trailers) already, it was neat to see the new life they took on when combined. Showing the differences, but mostly the similarities, shed a whole new light on the race. I hope they stick with this.

- Bringing out all the winners at the end was a nice touch.

Unfortunately, the things that really got me down this year were pretty important - namely, the winners of Best Director and Picture. Can somebody actually explain to me, in concrete, logical terms, why The King's Speech is a) the best picture of the year and b) a good movie at all? And you can't just say "it's inspiring," because if that's all that matters in filmmaking (and it isn't) 127 Hours or The Fighter should have won. Those films are EXPONENTIALLY more inspiring than a low-stakes story of a man overcoming an impediment that somewhat hinders but doesn't even remotely jeopardize his personal life or (token) career. Really, it could have been called "The King's Mild Inconvenience." On top of that, Tom Hooper's direction was actively bad. That's pretty difficult to achieve in a straightforward type of film like this one. Every frame was packed with unmotivated choices. Oh well, I'm sure history will have the last laugh when TKS is forgotten within a year.

And as a final, rather irreverent thought, I had been proposing ever since Colin Firth's win became inevitable that he conduct an Oscar swap with Jeff Bridges. It's like this: Firth's nominated performance last year in A Single Man was better than both Bridges in Crazy Heart and Firth himself in TKS. Bridges, on the other hand, won his Oscar for the tepid and uninteresting Crazy Heart but was incredible this year in True Grit. Basically, both men did great work but got Oscars for the wrong role - one too early and one too late. Usually the Academy has a displacement problem - they give Actor X the award the year Actor Y deserves it, Y the award the year Z deserves it, and so on - but this would be a simple, clean fix. Just sayin.

What did you think of this year's show?

Just lovely

2011-03-07T19:11:00.000-08:00

For those of you who need an antidote to the toxic train wreck calling itself Charlie Sheen, here's 150 cc's of elegance:

“Once after a dinner party, Gregory Peck and I drove Fred Astaire home. Fred lived in a colonial house that had a long porch with many pillars. When we dropped him off, he danced along the whole front porch, then opened the door, tipped his hat to us, and disappeared.

Wow! Greg and I couldn’t speak for a few minutes. It was a beautiful way to say thank you.”

-Kirk Douglas

(via Old Hollywood)

The conundrum of the long movie title

2011-03-01T22:53:00.000-08:00

Despite having a MOST IMPRESSIVE psychology minor indicated on my college diploma, I don't pretend to understand the mysteries of the human mind. But after a year and a half working at a video store and countless conversations with people of all stripes, I can claim some insight into the way the average brain remembers movie titles.

This may seem like insignificant nonsense to you - after all, how hard is it to remember movie titles? Take some recent Best Picture nominees, for instance - Inception, Black Swan, The King's Speech. What's so hard about that? On the whole, movie titles are pretty straightforward, and what they lack in everyday language (i.e. Inception) they usually make up for with brevity.

But occasionally you'll see a film with an unusual or long titles, particularly among indies. That's fine, and I'm all for artistic individuality, but it's very possible that that naming choice could cost the film its audience.

How?

From working at the video store, I learned that the average consumer (and I'm excluding movie nerds here) can remember about 2-3 words of a movie title. That's why most movie titles aren't longer than that. If they are, the extra words get cut from their recollection. For instance, the Kevin James and Adam Sandler laff riot I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry was shortened in the collective memory of our customers to just Chuck and Larry. We actually had to re-file it under "C" because no one could find it under "I." People were also much more likely to remember a unique word in a title, i.e. "Prada" in The Devil Wears Prada. If all they could ask for was "you know, the Prada something" then the process of elimination was pretty simple. Occasionally, you'd even get someone who could remember the approximate grammatical or thematic structure of a longer title, but nothing else. I once spent nearly half an hour with a man who kept insisting he wanted the Jodie Foster movie The Last House on the Left despite the clear absence of Ms. Foster on that film's IMDb page, until I finally pieced together that he was actually talking about The Little Girl Who Lives Down the Lane.

Now that video stores are all but gone from the typical consumer's lifestyle, the importance of remembering titles increases significantly. If the aforementioned man had been searching for that movie on Netflix, he probably would have hit a brick wall since the two titles don't have any words in common except "the." Of course, he could have just searched the filmography of Jodie Foster, but I'd have a whole lot of nickels if I got one for every time someone would swear on their dead mother's grave that a movie had Jodie Foster only to later admit sheepishly "although y'know, I guess it MIGHT have been Meryl Streep..."

So this brings us to the film 45365. The number refers to the zip code for Sidney, Ohio, which is the town depicted in this slice-of-life documentary. It's kind of a cool idea for a title, and I'm behind it conceptually. But I can't help but feel that the directors and producers just shot themselves in the foot. No one is going to remember a movie title that's just a sequence of five numbers, even a devoted cinephile. Maybe an interested viewer will remember that the title is a zip code, and go back and try to find that article where they first heard about it, but are unable to find the article. They'll Google "ohio zip code movie," as I did when trying to recall its title for this post, and won't find anything relevant. Only when you search "ohio zip code DOCUMENTARY" do you get what you're looking for, but perhaps the mildly interested viewer has already given up. A potential viewer lost on a technicality.

Here's another: the recent Sundance hit Martha Marcy May Marlene. The average person will probably remember that the title contains a series of names starting with "M." That alone could probably find you what you want with the help of a video store employee, but Netflix won't be so understanding. You'll have to remember at least one of the names, and in all likelihood you'll probably figure that one of them is "Mary." Or "Maggie." Or you might misremember Marlene as "Maureen." If you can't get at least one word correct, then you're out of luck and once again the film has lost a viewer.

Long titles don't always present this problem. For example, The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford has two things going for it that people would probably remember: the mention of an identifiable figure (Jesse James, or Robert Ford if you know your history), and the fact that it stars Brad Pitt. That's why longer titles hit indies harder, because people can't look them up by star.

So, again, I'm all for artistic freedom and integrity. I just sometimes wonder if filmmakers realize that their titles could cost them viewers, and if that's a tradeoff they're willing to make.

What do you think? Is a consumer's desire to see an oddly-named film hindered by the limits of human memory?

The only Oscar prediction you'll need

2011-02-27T13:30:00.000-08:00

Let's keep it simple, people.

Happy Oscar watching! May you win your betting pools!

Movie nerd wall!

2011-02-17T21:13:00.000-08:00

I may not be the most gifted or inspired when it comes to interior design, but I'm pretty proud of this. Behold, a newly decorated wall of our new apartment! The images were found almost entirely at Carteles de Cine and printed out on regular paper.

Context-free delight #4

2011-02-02T23:34:00.000-08:00

Now that I live in La-La Land, I was lucky enough to catch a program called "Cartoon Noir" at the Silent Movie Theatre, featuring Hollywood cartoons that mock, imitate, or otherwise pay homage to film noir. It was mostly familiar faces (i.e. Daffy and Donald Duck) or otherwise anthropomorphic creatures, but there was one that was unlike any cartoon I'd ever seen. It's a mostly musical cartoon rendition of "Frankie and Johnny," more sexy than silly, complete with unique animation and a credited choreographer (!). It's pretty impossible to describe - just watch it!

Best overlooked and underappreciated performances of 2010

2011-01-29T15:14:00.000-08:00

It's that time again...for me to complain about what everyone got wrong! Not really. But I realized that I've developed this now annual tradition because come awards season, I never feel like I have anything terribly compelling to add to the discourse. For as much as people hate on the awards circuit, they get a lot of things right, and at this point I hardly have any worthwhile contributions on the terrific work of Bale, Bening, et al. So instead I'll continue to champion the lesser-known underdogs and point out some of my favorite performances of the year that flew under the radar. Some went completely unnoticed, others got attention but no awards. Once again, I offer my disclaimer that these are not necessarily replacements or alternatives for this year's batch of nominees/winners - just ones I think deserve more love.

BEST ACTOR

Ben Stiller as the titular Greenberg
Stiller is actually a talented actor when he puts his mind to it, which is basically never. Seemingly content to churn out Night at the Museum and Fockers sequels for the rest of his life, he came out of nowhere to deliver a career-best performance as the neurotic and wholly unlikable Greenberg. The film was a divisive one that raised questions about the need for likability in protagonists, with audiences so dismayed by the character's self-destructive behavior that they were booing and demanding refunds. That's an absurd and limiting viewpoint, and those who could get past it were rewarded by a rich, subtle, and hilarious performance that made the midlife crisis seem fresh again.

Patrick Wilson as Barry Munday
This is one of those films that would be completely forgotten while viewing it if not for the overwhelmingly charismatic performance of its lead. Wilson is an actor I've been championing for years, with bona fide talent to back up his blinding attractiveness. The film is a kookier, darker Knocked Up, with Wilson essentially playing a loser who doesn't identify himself as such and is just trying to make the best of any situation. A wholly lovable lead in a fluff movie...stars have been born from less.

Robert Downey Jr. as Tony Stark in Iron Man 2
Look, whiners: you know why everybody says that the Iron Man sequel is inferior to the original? Because the element of surprise was gone - the "wait huh Downey is a superhero I thought he was still in rehab and Gwyneth Paltrow is actually kind of sassy and appealing and Favreau is directing the hell out of this whaaaaaa AWESOME!". Instead, they crammed the sequel with enough character development to fill a dozen superhero flicks. I'll steal a line from my boyfriend's review on his blog: that the writers came up with "the great conceit that just because a narcissistic, live-for-the-moment playboy has become a superhero doesn't mean he isn't still narcissistic and unable to confront the real, pressing issues in front of him." We were stunned and delighted when the second-act low point came not from the nefarious plans of an antagonist, but from Tony's own flaws. And even with all this going on, Downey still maintains the sprightliness of Cary Grant. (And for those who complained that Iron Man outshone the villains, isn't that a good thing? Didn't you complain that the villains in The Dark Knight snatched the rug out from under Batman? No pleasing you people.)

Michael Douglas as Ben Kalmen in Solitary Man
The two things that Michael Douglas got attention for this year were throat cancer and his revival of the Gordon Gekko role, respectively. Less conspicuous, then, was his terrific work in this little indie, which is hardly original but boasts a great cast giving it their all. As the solitary man himself, Douglas spends nearly the whole film's running time digging himself deeper into a hole (he starts out pretty deep already) and making bad, self-destructive decisions. His interactions with supporting players like Jesse Eisenberg, Susan Sarandon, and Imogen Poots enrich the character and make you remember why everyone likes him as an actor. He puts up a solid struggle against the audience's sympathy, but wins it anyway.

Jim Carrey as Steven Russell in I Love You, Philip Morris
I'm so glad that this film finally debuted stateside after over a year of delays - it's hilarious, outrageous and even rather sweet. You get kind of immune to the phrase "based on the incredible true story" after it's abused by very believable movies about underdog sports teams, but trust me when I say this is one of the most unbelievable stories I have ever seen. It concerns the affairs, escapades and numerous jailbreaks of a gay con man played adroitly by Carrey, channeling his typical comedic elasticity into his portrayal of this glib genius (Russell has a rumored IQ of 163). Carrey can really knock it out of the park when he's not just phoning it in for paychecks, and here he's found a role that seems positively written for him.

BEST ACTRESS

Greta Gerwig as Florence in Greenberg
I haven't extensively explored the oft-maligned "mumblecore" genre, but if history relegates it to nothing more than a training ground for talents like Gerwig, that'll still be a pretty good legacy. Much as her costar Stiller breathes new life into the midlife crisis-ing male archetype, Gerwig rejuvenates the manic pixie dream girl as a figure with her own concerns and dreams. Sure, she helps shake Greenberg out of his funk, but she's pretty damaged herself (although thankfully, not from excessively dramatic life circumstances but rather just the typical pitfalls of the aimless soul). Plus, she's got great comedic timing.

Emma Stone as Olive in Easy A
I was skeptical when I first saw advertising for this film, seeing nothing to differentiate it from other nondescript high school comedies. But following the trail of good reviews it received, I saw it in theaters and was pleasantly surprised. My boyfriend said that the resonance and success of similar movies comes from having a protagonist that the audience wants to be. I guess I never quite clicked with the Brat Pack films because the characters were too one-dimensional to be relatable - I mean, Ferris Bueller is cool, but in the cartoony way that Bugs Bunny is. Olive, on the other hand, is incredibly smart and witty (without being a nerd stereotype), has a great relationship with her awesome family, and doesn't need any kind of "makeover" from the film except to boost her own self-respect. Stone plays the character with a great, fresh energy that should rightly propel her into the ranks of leading lady.

Noomi Rapace as Lisbeth Salander in The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo (I haven't seen the other two)
Rapace's performance(s) was hardly overlooked in the traditional sense - it won her a slew of awards in Sweden, sent Hollywood scrambling after her and inspired an American remake of the first film. Yet come awards time, everyone was curiously silent. I'm sure it doesn't help that the films themselves are not Typical Oscar Material, and they're foreign-language ones to boot. But that's a shame, because Rapace burst through the narrow mold of femininity that American films pull from and presented a fierce, brilliant, aggressive, and unusual-looking woman constantly fighting to stay afloat. The "tattoo" scene (not pertaining to the dragon tattoo, but I'll leave it at that), among others, is one of the most dynamite of the year, but I know that due to ratings restrictions the remake is going to have to be a lot tamer. So kudos to Sweden, for letting their actresses "go there."

BEST SUPPORTING ACTOR

Paul Rudd as George in How Do You Know
This movie isn't all that good, but it's not the train wreck some critics are making it out to be - I think it would be an ideal movie to watch on a plane, for instance. But Rudd continues his decades-long streak as one of Hollywood's most affable second bananas, bringing charm and even a dash of pathos to a movie that hardly deserves him. I've been a huge fan of Rudd for years - sure, he's no Brando, but he can really light up a room. And he really makes the tepid dialogue dance - the Play-Doh scene, for example, would probably have just fallen apart in someone else's hands.

Harrison Ford as Mike Pomeroy in Morning Glory
It's almost hard to believe that the charismatic Han Solo of the Star Wars trilogy is the same person who's been sulking through bland thrillers for years now. His attempts to play grim-faced determination have just come off as cranky. But romantic comedy director Roger Michell, of all people, seems to have figured out what to do with the 21st-century Ford: poke fun at his grouchiness. Ford plays a once-great news anchor reluctantly roped into hosting a morning show, and displays surprisingly adept comic skills in mocking his recent screen persona. He evens brings back some of that old charm to serve as the linchpin in the surprisingly sweet finale.

Justin Timberlake as Sean Parker in The Social Network - Frankly, I'm surprised that the awards-givers aren't all over this...a singer in a flashy supporting role? Jennifer Hudson, anyone? Timberlake clearly has a blast gnawing on Aaron Sorkin's delicious dialogue and playing a pretty outrageous true-life figure, proving equally adept when Parker starts to break down near the end. The only real indication of his acting prowess prior to this film was his lamentably infrequent appearances on SNL, but here he proves that he could pursue this path if he so desired.

BEST SUPPORTING ACTRESS

Olivia Williams as Ruth Lang in The Ghost Writer
Making it onto my list for the second year in a row is the consistently wonderful Williams. To call her a bright spot in this amiable but unexceptional thriller is an understatement; she's nothing short of a supernova. Ruth is a woman of contradictions: confident but jealous, straightforward but secretive. At first she just seems like another stereotypical political wife, but Williams is great at peeling back the layers to show how complicated and dynamic the character really is.

Michelle Williams as Dolores in Shutter Island
It's already hard to discuss a twisty film like this in much detail and keep things spoiler-free, so praising Williams' brief but crucial screen time is nearly impossible. I can tell you that she plays the main character's deceased wife and is seen only in flashback - and that's about it. Just watch it already...as if you need another reason to see this fantastic and underrated film.

Jemima Kirke as Charlotte in Tiny Furniture
The film itself is pretty insufferable - it starts as a spot-on satire of New York cliches, but then goes down in flames when it tries to make you care about its one-dimensional, poorly acted characters. It's a cast of "non-actors," which I don't mind as long as they're watchable, but everyone on screen seems uncomfortable and downright...itchy. The lone bright spot in this mess is perfectly calibrated Kirke, who nails her every punchline like a pro while everyone around her trips over theirs. She plays a daffy, ditzy sidekick whose earnestness and good intentions leave the audience no choice but to love her.

Chloe Moretz as Hit-Girl in Kick-Ass
It's a shame that so many audience members couldn't get past the fact that an 11-year-old girl was saying "the C word," because that's really unfair to the immense skill that Moretz displays here. Her physical performance alone is staggering - my understanding is that she did a fair share of her own stunts, and over the course of the film she takes out at least a football team's worth of grown men. Her performance is hardly subtle - it's demented pop art, and it's all the more impressive that someone of her precocious age can work on that wavelength.

SPECIAL MENTIONS

Ensemble Award: Scott Pilgrim vs. The World
The awards circuit has been honoring films like The Town, The Social Network and The Fighter for their ensembles, and while all those films have terrific casts, each of them still rests primarily on just a few characters. Scott Pilgrim presents a different type of ensemble, which became clear when I tried to single out some of its performances for special mention - and couldn't. This thing is a well-oiled machine, with each cog seeking no greater glory than the make the film as a whole run. It's cast to perfection, down to the tiniest part - I lamented afterwards that I wanted it to be longer, just to afford all of these great talents more screen time. Names like Anna Kendrick (fresh off an Oscar nomination) and Chris Evans (our future Captain America) show up for mere minutes, and the film is better for it.

Dynamic Duo: Stanley Tucci and Patricia Clarkson in Easy A
At first I was going to honor Tucci and Clarkson separately in the respective his and hers categories, but I realized that that would be missing the point. As the lovable dropped-a-bit-too-much-acid-in-the-60s parents of high schooler Olive, they have an energy and chemistry that makes it seem like they've been married for years (it probably helps that they also played a couple in 2007's Blind Date). The power of their performances hangs in the air between them. How come it really took this long to have parents in a teen movie that are ridiculously sweet, supportive, and hilarious?

So there you have it. What are your favorite overlooked/underappreciated performances of the year?

A little tidbit while you wait...

2011-01-27T22:07:00.000-08:00

Apologies for the hiatus...but in the time since my last post I've moved from Portland to Los Angeles! This whole business of moving is rather time consuming, so I hope you'll forgive me. A mega-post is forthcoming, but in the meantime, I thought I should let you know that this exists (photo taken at the California Science Center)

My movie-related resolutions

2010-12-26T17:12:00.000-08:00

Let me preface this by saying that I don't believe in New Year's resolutions. They're doomed to fail because you're picking an essentially arbitrary date to change something in your life. If you have not been able to make that thing happen previously due to any combination of guilt, rewards, punishment or ambition, then a day on a calendar isn't going to do jack. So really, the following are just movie-related goals that, due to the year being nearly over, I will almost certainly accomplish next year.

- I need to see The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly. I have no excuse. My boyfriend owns it, even. I realize that not having done so makes me a wretched human being unfit to interact with most of society. But I want to make amends! Let's set this right!

- I would like to continue my exploration of Westerns, a genre I had previously avoided whether intentionally or not. I've made good progress this year, seeing essentials like Stagecoach, The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance, Once Upon a Time in the West, Red River and Unforgiven. With those down, I have more room to "play" and explore lesser-known Westerns that appeal to me. Shane and The Wild Bunch still loom over me unseen, though.

- I'm afraid I've been rather Eurocentric in my exploration of foreign films, but this year I dipped my toes into Kurosawa and knocked out some of the biggies (Seven Samurai, Ikiru, Ran). Ikiru didn't really work for me, but it encouraged me to seek out more Kurosawa with a modern setting, so I'm going to make Stray Dog, Drunken Angel, The Bad Sleep Well and High and Low priorities in 2011. Also Ugetsu - not a Kurosawa but an Asian classic I need to see.

- This year, for the first time in my life, I achived the dream of getting Turner Classic Movies. It's been fantastic. However, since it was a prized commodity that we would have for a potentially limited time, it took priority over other ways of viewing films - notably Netflix Instant. I want to make more use of that feature in the coming year (which shouldn't be difficult, since they're trying to switch to an all-streaming format) because they have all kinds of great stuff. That said, we'll probably get TCM again at the first possible opportunity!

- I need to see Tootsie and Harold and Maude. Progress has been slow in this arena because my boyfriend doesn't want to see these films but feels that he must, and somehow responsibility for making this happen fell on me. He said I need that I hold him hostage and use all kinds of bullying and threats to force him to watch them (and I can't watch them by myself because then he'll NEVER see them). Needless to say, that's not a very appealing proposition, so we've hit a stalemate. Hopefully there is a peaceful resolution to this in the future. (LOVE YOU BABE!)

- As detailed in a couple of earlier posts, I have been working on seeing all the films that everyone but me saw in their youth. I've made good progress this year, but Raiders of the Lost Ark (well, all Indiana Jones movies) and Return of the Jedi still elude me.

- I've missed going to repertory screenings this year, since I lived in a city that had very few of them (Portland, OR). But after my move to the City of Angels in the new year, I plan to absolutely gorge myself on the repertory scene!

- My movie-watching guide is an ever-expanding Google Doc of several hundred titles I've collected over the years that I want to see. Its primary purpose is making sure I don't forget about any of them, but as an unfortunate byproduct I sometimes feel stressed that I'll never get to them all. This need to catch up on numerous decades of cinema history often pushes any desire to rewatch a film to the back burner, and consequently I'm pretty much a single-viewing gal. So in 2011, I will try to discover and indulge in the joys of the multiple viewing. (Is it a step forward or backward that a section of my list is "films to rewatch?")

What are your movie-related resolutions?

I'm goin' Hollywood!

2010-12-16T15:27:00.000-08:00

I've given my notice at work, so now I can share the news without fear of it leaking - I'm moving to Los Angeles! I always swore I never would, but over time I was convinced that the normal people living there outnumbered the tanorexic Barbies and that there's a richer culture than there appears to be. This will be the fourth state I've lived in since August 2009 - I didn't plan on being so nomadic, but that's just how it worked out. I'm sure this will lend my posts an air of glamour, and I'll be reporting on my close friendships with the stars by about...a week after moving, would you say?

Cinematic rainbow!

2010-12-07T10:02:00.000-08:00

Meme alert! A cinematic rainbow for a gloomy winter day! (As always, I have seen and can recommend all of these).

Red River (1948)
    A Clockwork Orange (1971)
        Golddiggers of 1933 (1933)
            The Night of the Hunter* (1955)
                The Moon is Blue (1953)
                    The Purple Rose of Cairo (1985)
                        Grey Gardens (1975)
                            Black Narcissus (1947)
                                The White Ribbon (2009)

* Hunter is totally a shade of green, you guys. What? The Green Hornet and The Green Lantern don't come out til next year. JUST LET ME HAVE MY RAINBOW, DAMMIT.

Favorite dance films

2010-12-03T12:22:00.000-08:00

I absolutely love the art of dance. From the time I could walk, I was twirling and leaping. I had a brief stint of little-girl ballet, and then took up the discipline seriously at age 11 and continued through high school. Tough auditions and a lack of non-competitive opportunities at college forced me out of the sport, though I remained an ardent spectator. But dance shows are expensive, so when the art form is captured on celluloid I'm in hog heaven. In anticipation of the impending release of Darren Aronofsky's ballet horror freak-out Black Swan and in honor of the fact that dance just roolz, here are some of my favorite dance-themed or dance-centric films. To make things interesting, I'm going to assume that anyone remotely interested in this post has seen the "obvious" choices here (i.e. Singin' in the Rain, The Red Shoes, Fred and Ginger musicals). I have divided my picks into three somewhat ill-defined categories for your convenience.

The Biz - what it takes to be a pro

Limelight (1952) - People often forget that Charlie Chaplin had a career post-1940, and while it was hardly prolific he did produce a couple more gems, including this bittersweet showbiz story. Echoing A Star Is Born, it chronicles the friendship between a ballerina on the rise (Claire Bloom) and a vaudeville star on the decline (Chaplin). The final scene at the theater will have you reaching for the tissues, but also laughing - it's the only onscreen pairing of Chaplin and Buster Keaton.

The Band Wagon (1953) - Do you love film noir and musicals? Well, I have got news for you! It's not a film noir musical (though at least one exists for the stage), but rather the glorious "Girl Hunt Ballet" that serves as the big number in this film. Fred Astaire and Cyd Charisse slink through a 12-minute tour-de-force surrounded by trenchcoats, gats, and impossibly versatile sets. Aside from that, though, the film offers many other delights, such as the self-conscious mockery of Astaire's failing career, a zippy script by the crack team of Betty Comden and Adolph Green (perhaps you're familiar with their work on a certain Singin' in the Rain?) and the leads' lovely pas-de-deux in the park.

The Turning Point (1977) - This film is now remembered mostly as a bit of Oscar trivia - it's tied with The Color Purple (1985) for the greatest amount of nominations (11) without any wins. That's a shame, because it's actually quite good and a real treat for dance fans. You have Anne Bancroft and Shirley MacLaine turning in incredible performances as former rival ballerinas - their scenes together are an absolute feast for anyone who loves great actresses. You have dancer Leslie Browne as MacLaine's daughter, showcasing her wonderful talent. And you have Baryshnikov! Most of all, though, it's a thoughtful look at the inherent tragedy of an industry that pushes its stars into retirement at a relatively young age.

All That Jazz (1979) - There aren't a lot of death-obsessed musical auto-biopics out there, so I think it's pretty safe to say that this one reigns supreme. Director/choreographer Bob Fosse gives the audience a look at his troubled but incredibly fruitful life, from popping pills to creating masterpieces to sharing tender moments with his daughter. A lot of the dancing is incidental and casual, but there are two show-stopping numbers - a vaguely airplane-themed bit where the dancers are almost naked, and the final showdown with death that features women dressed as...aortas, I guess? Roy Scheider is terrific in the lead role, but you'll notice that he manages to avoid any real dancing himself!

Center Stage (2000) - Okay, full disclosure: I am in no position to objectively discuss this film's merit (or lack thereof, as the case may be). It came out around the time that I started dancing myself, and became inextricably intertwined with that part of my life. Everyone in dance class knew all the lines and quoted them frequently, and my ballet teacher borrowed liberally from its moves on more than one occasion. With the exception of Zoe Saldana (and bless her multi-talented soul), the dancers of the film are played by real dancers - aka not actors - so you're not exactly gonna find the next Brando here. But despite the uneven acting and the ludicrous and melodramatic plot, it always stays fun and funny - whether intentionally or unintentionally. And the dancing is fantastic and plentiful - from ballet to salsa to the knockout final number with a little bit of everything (including simulated dance sex!)

Talk to Her (2002) - You shouldn't need another reason to see Almodovar's universally acclaimed masterpiece, but for dance nuts it might interest you to know that one of the characters is an aspiring ballerina. It's hardly a focus of the film, but you do get rehearsal scenes, two beautiful and unconventional performances at the ballet, and a choreographer played by the inimitable Geraldine Chaplin (yes, daughter of Charlie).

I Just Wanna Dance! - dancing for funsies or narratively ignored reasons

The musicals of Stanley Donen that don't end in "Rain" (1949-1958) - While director Donen will probably be mostly remembered (dude's still alive!) for Singin' in the Rain, his other musicals deserve attention and praise too - and the man knows how to stage a dance number. I've previously expressed my affection for On The Town (1949), which in my opinion is nipping at SitR's heels in terms of quality and, like its more famous cousin, features an elaborate fantasy ballet conceived and executed by Gene Kelly (plus Ann Miller's incomparable tap dancing!). Seven Brides for Seven Brothers (1954) needs a boatload of charm to compensate for the fact that it essentially endorses kidnapping as a dating technique, and it delivers in spades with the mind-boggling "barn-raising" number. Funny Face (1957) teams Audrey Hepburn and Fred Astaire for a fun romp that features dancing of both the dreamily classical and brashly modern variety. And The Pajama Game (1957) boasts not only Doris Day, but the sultry "Steam Heat" and absolutely bonkers "Once-a-Year Day" sequences. I still haven't seen all of Donen's musicals, but I'm inclined to say that you can't really go wrong.

My Sister Eileen (1955 - not to be confused with the 1942 non-musical version) - I found myself pleasantly surprised when I recorded this on TCM earlier this year. Janet Leigh and Rosalind Russell star as sisters coming to New York to make it big, and while that setup has been exploited infinite times this incarnation is fresh, funny, and sweet. On hand to play their paramours are a young Jack Lemmon and a young Bob Fosse, who also provides choreography and dances a springy, effortless interlude. But if that's too highbrow for you, there's also a huge conga line at the end.

The Young Girls of Rochefort (1967) - It would appear that director Jacques Demy appropriated my fantasy of life being a happy dancey musical, went back in time, and made it a film. In this candy-colored wonderland, people dance through the streets and sing their feelings, and besides the radiant Catherine Deneuve we also have none other than Gene Kelly himself (speaking fluent French and still moving marvelously at age 55!). The songs are infectious and while the dancing by the leads is rather light, Demy packs the Rochefort town square full of extras to pull of some big numbers.

Sweet Charity (1969) - It always comes back to Fosse. Bob directed this adaptation of Fellini's Nights of Cabiria, starring Shirley MacLaine as the titular girl who just wants to be loved. MacLaine, trained as a dancer, is a joy as always, as are the quintessentially Fosse "Rich Man's Frug" number and the awesome psychadelic "Rhythm of Life" with Sammy Davis Jr.

Forever Fever aka That's the Way I Like It (1998) - Okay, tough guy who's been smirking through this post thinking all my choices are obvious, I raise you this DISCO MOVIE FROM SINGAPORE! I watched it in an Asian Cinema class, and although it might have just been due to relief that it wasn't another morbid or disturbing film like everything else in that class, it was a real crowd pleaser. It's a quasi-adaptation of Saturday Night Fever, in which John Travolta's character from that film steps out of the screen and serves as a disco mentor to dorky Hock. Yeah, it's a bit silly, but it's got killer moves, some serious subplots, and it's always interesting to explore the popular entertainment and culture of a lesser-known country (although the film is in English, one of Singapore's two official languages).

Hairspray (2007) - I'm sure most people are aware of this film...but are they aware of how downright awesome it is? Even though musicals are still being made, most of them are afraid to plunge headfirst into the classical tradition - they'll use pop songs instead of showtunes and create logical reasons for anyone to be singing and dancing. But Hairspray just GOES there. A fantastic ensemble cast shines down to the smallest part, the songs are groovy, the dancing is retro-wonderful and John Travolta in drag isn't quite as disturbing as you'd think. A film about integration on an "American Bandstand"-type show shouldn't be this fun, but I think it would be right at home in MGM's Golden Age.

Non-Narrative/Other

Gene Kelly: Anatomy of a Dancer (2002) - What makes this documentary great is that it not only gives a thorough account of Kelly's life and career, but it really probes his technique and creative process. Despite being a fervent admirer of Kelly for some time, I didn't quite realize how relentlessly innovative he was when it came to dance on screen, and how hard he pushed to integrate dance with the story and emotional arcs of the characters. And of course, it'll have you queueing up his movies like crazy!

Dracula: Pages from a Virgin's Diary (2002) - Ignore the abysmal title that denotes bargain-bin horror - this is actually a silent film adaptation of a ballet adaptation of Dracula directed by Guy Maddin. If that sounds trippy - well, it is. Maddin evokes the look of a highly stylized silent film (but with more cutting) to film this hallucinogenic combination of cinema and ballet (but on sets, not a stage). It's like nothing you've seen before - and I mean that as a compliment.

La danse (2009) - There are two very niche audiences for this minimalistic three-hour documentary about the Paris Opera Ballet - serious dance aficionados (like myself) and those who are endlessly fascinated by watching people practicing their trade (like my boyfriend). There's no interviews, intertitles, or narration - just footage of the company preparing a season of shows and snippets of the resulting performances. It's an unprecedented look inside possibly the best ballet company in the world, and if you've got the stamina for it, it can be a very rich experience.

What are your favorite dance movies?

Black Friday, Harold Lloyd style

2010-11-23T21:14:00.000-08:00

As I was watching this scene from Safety Last! (1923), I couldn't help but notice the parallels to Black Friday shopping madness and was reminded why I feel no need to participate. Enjoy!

De-Coding films

2010-11-17T16:41:00.000-08:00

I just finished reading the fantastic 1958 novel The Best of Everything by Rona Jaffe. Often cited as a possible progenitor of "Mad Men," it chronicles the hardships and personal entanglements of working girls in 50s Manhattan. It sounds like fluffy chick lit, but instead it's a thoughtful and well-written exploration of how the gender roles and social mores of the time doomed women who strayed from the proper path. I knew before I started reading it that there had been a 1959 film adaptation, but as I read on I started to wonder what small percentage of the novel could be transferred to a 1950s screen.

Yes, folks, the Production Code - everybody's favorite Hollywood censorship doctrine and a subject of personal fascination - was still in full swing. In adapting a story focused primarily on the matters of infidelity, premarital sex, marital dissatisfaction, unwanted pregnancy and subsequent abortion, obsession, and serious critique of a woman's role in mid-century America, what could you preserve? Very little, if the synopses of the film are any indication. It glosses over everything that gives the novel weight - spouses are conveniently removed, the abortion becomes a miscarriage, sex becomes attempted sex, all moral ambiguity is eliminated and at the end of the day, it emphasizes that all women should just be wives and mothers. It's an adaptation of the book only so far as a ransom note comprised of magazine letters is an adaptation of that magazine. True, I haven't seen the film, but there's nothing really motivating me to do so.

Now, unsatisfactory film adaptations happen all the time. But they are the result of deliberate decisions, not mandatory excisions. The film was the way it was because the filmmakers literally had no choice. And that bums me out, because I feel that a faithful adaptation of the book would really be something special. Of course someone could always make another version, perhaps piggybacking on the success of "Mad Men," but the opportunity to tell the full story from the unique vantage point of the era in which it takes place is unfortunately gone.

The degree to which the Code interfered with a film's effectiveness was widely varied. The fact that any of James Cagney's gangsters had to die at the end of the film was an awkward add-on, but didn't change the fact that until that point he could be as gloriously sadistic and violent as he wanted to be. It was still a gangster picture that delivered all the proper thrills of the genre. But with something like The Best of Everything, the fabric of the story is fundamentally altered, and in trying to adapt a bestseller they neutered everything that made it so.

I know it's impossible, but it would be amazing to see a "de-Coded" version of The Best of Everything from its own time. So think hard and share your filmic fantasies: what films would you like to see de-Coded? (Reminder: the Code was in effect from 1934 until a slow death in the mid-60s.) And I realize that you can't miss what you never knew should have been there, so most of these cases of longing will happen in adaptations of some sort.

Unusual endorsements of the classic stars

2010-11-16T11:56:00.000-08:00

For as long as celebrities have existed, they've been hawking products to the public. The integration of sponsors into TV or radio programs further blurred the line between advertising and entertainment, so it was quite common to see a top box office star promoting something. Most often it was cigarettes, with beauty and hygiene products a close second. They're glamorous and fun - I have a Chesterfield (cigarette brand) ad with Rita Hayworth hanging on my wall. But in browsing the great site Vintage Ads and Stuff, I came across some odd ducks - famous faces lending themselves to ads for unexpected products, or some ads that are just downright strange. I thought I'd share some of my favorites. If you like what you see, I should note that the thousands of ads seen on the aforementioned website are originals available for sale (mostly at under $5 a pop!). Click any image to enlarge.

Joan Crawford for Fleers Gum - it's kind of hard to read, but it seems like Joan has a personality test to determine if you're a good person, and you should buy gum, and those are unrelated thoughts.

Arlene Francis for The Wallpaper Council (!) - I'm thinking about making "Wallpaper is smart!" my catchphrase.

Zsa Zsa Gabor for Paper-Mate - Sex sells...pens?

Susan Hayward for Sunsweet Prunes - Ms. Hayward is a beguiling young lady with a lovely figure, but despite the claims of the text on this I don't think she maintains it by having a GIANT BOWL OF PRUNES for lunch on set.

Bob Hope for Texaco - Just Old Ski Nose relaxing at home with a cold glass of sponge. And ya know, I never questioned Texaco's competence at doing their job until they placed an ad to convince me...

William Bendix for the American Meat Institute (?!) - "On the air for MEAT!"

Sammy Davis Jr. for Alka-Seltzer - No words.

Joan Blondell for Auto-Lite - Both Joan and Auto-Lite spark plugs have rhythm and perfect performance! That's probably better for Joan than saying that the spark plugs are cheap and easy to use.

A couple of Woody Allen ads for Smirnoff - before Scarlett, before Mia, before Diana, there was Smirnoff.

Documentary subject matter vs. quality

2010-11-09T10:51:00.000-08:00

Recently, I saw two of the most buzzed-about documentaries of the year, Waiting for "Superman" and Inside Job. Despite the extremely urgent and pertinent subject matter (education and the financial collapse, respectively) and the universal critical praise, why did I find the net result to be rather underwhelming?

While some might grumble that narrative films about wars or social issues get a lot more love at Oscar time, the disparity becomes jacked up so much in the documentary world that a nonfiction film can coast on its subject alone. In an article over at Cinematical earlier this year, Christopher Campbell notes that despite its worthy topic, he found the documentary Food Inc. to be downright mediocre. He claims that "the majority ignored the problems with its storytelling, editing and narrowness of testimony because they favored the cause," and offered excerpts from critics who were essentially unable to defend the film on its own merits but just kept stressing that people should see it. Despite the opportunities offered by the cinematic medium, he concludes that the film offered nothing beyond the book on which it was based.

Now, I will say that making a documentary about an issue as opposed to a specific person, group or event poses great challenges. Do you include lots of facts and figures? Interviews with experts, the common man, or both? What stance do you take? These questions have no right answers, but with Inside Job and Waiting for "Superman" I can't help but feel that something was wrong about the approach.

WfS must be making serious bank off the guilt of the privileged and insulated, because the chatter in the ladies' room afterwards seemed to indicate certain viewers' lack of awareness of the state of American education. Listen, I don't expect everyone to know the details and statistics, but as far as I'm concerned knowing that education here is awful is as basic as knowing that we went to war with Iraq. But I guess if everyone knew that, not as many people would be finding the film so eye-opening. As a way of demonstrating its point, the film follows a handful of students in different cities in their quest to escape the public school system and get into a private or charter school. I had trouble getting involved in these stories, because of the distance maintained by the constant reminder that the education of these kids isn't what's really at stake, but they're Representative of a Larger Issue.

I also understand a documentary's desire to convey a specific stance, but even with my limited knowledge of the situation I know that nothing on earth is as binary and straightforward as the director, Davis Guggenheim, makes it out to be. Basically, the take-home message is that everything is the fault of the cackling, nefarious cults known as teachers' unions, and we just need to send all kids to charter schools because charter schools are perfect. But how convenient that all the charter schools they feature are excelling, which is not entirely representative of how they're actually faring nationwide. And how convenient that it's entirely the fault of the unions, and has nothing to do with politicians, government, parents, or anyone else. Look, I'm fine with biased documentaries, and if you're Michael Moore you're sure as hell going to leave out any information that hurts your cause. But if a film is urging reform, I think it's actually detrimental to say there's only a single cause and single solution. Why was there no mention, for instance, of Brockton High School, which went from performing dismally to outperforming most of the state by an aggressive implementation of literacy and writing lessons in every class, including gym? There was no government involvement, no unions got their feathers ruffled, it didn't cost a thing, and no personnel was shuffled. Did I mention that this was at a school with 4,100 students? Where's the documentary on that? I suppose that ultimately, this film can be galvanizing and startling to those who genuinely believe that the American education system is peachy. For everyone else, however, it's clunky and simplistic, and its likelihood of winning the Oscar because the voters feel guilty about sending their kids to private school bums me out.

Inside Job, conversely, could never conceivably be described as simplistic - it's a barrage of information that's actually pretty well organized. The problem, though, is that the movie has no exclusive information. Oh sure, there are plenty of interviews, but they don't offer anything new - economists and scholars reemphasize that they predicted the meltdown, and the fat cats squirm in the spotlight and act like nothing happened. All the information is already out there - frequently on the front page - making the film simply a synthesis. That's fine, I guess, but I tend to agree with critic Shawn Levy's assessment that it hasn't "been rendered in a way that's genuinely worth paying contemporary movie ticket prices to learn about." I couldn't help but wondering if it was really more of a TV special, something in the vein of 20/20 perhaps. Had it been produced and aired in that format, it probably would have reached a significantly wider audience. But instead they had Matt Damon narrate it, released it in theaters and cinched a Best Documentary nomination.

Look, I'm always glad when any form of media gets people talking, especially about issues and current events. I just don't think that should be confused with good filmmaking, and if the best-made documentary of the year is actually about a cute kitten with a funny hat, it should be recognized as such. What do you think? Does subject matter trump all? What was your reaction to these films?

Halloween picks for fellow Halloweenies

2010-10-28T12:33:00.000-07:00

As I've previously mentioned on this blog, I will happily watch absolutely any genre except super-scary horror. For both scholarly and entertainment reasons I wish I could bear it, but despite a perfect tolerance of violence and suspense my overactive imagination goes into hyperdrive when viewing anything aggressively terrifying. A film like The Shining, The Exorcist or even more recent fare like the Saw films would leave me unable to sleep or function for several weeks. I have refused, however, to let this handicap impede me from enjoying a marathon of spookiness every Halloween, and I thought I'd share some of my favorite discoveries. I feel that movie weenies do not receive adequate support in this arena - any Google search for non-scary Halloween flicks just leads you down a path of family-friendly animated specials. So here's suggestions for my cinephile brethren who enjoy the mysterious and macabre, but don't derive pleasure out of being utterly petrified. (But don't think for a second that these films can't also be enjoyed by non-weenies!)

The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920) - Oh hello, possible singlehanded launch of German Expressionism and inspiration for Tim Burton's entire career. If you like shadowy, lopsided sets with unusual angles and very unnatural-looking people (and who doesn't?), this one's for you. Full of twists and turns and years ahead of its time, you'd be doing yourself a disservice by skipping out on what some consider the film true horror film. And don't avoid it just because it's a silent film - it's short, sprightly and could give any number of talkies a run for their money.

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1931) - The story has been filmed countless times, but I can only vouch for this version, which is regarded as (one of) the best. Fredric March is in fine form, winning a deserved Oscar for his dual performance. Miriam Hopkins is also a standout for her work as the prostitute Ivy, and their scenes together are incredibly risqué (gotta love that pre-Code era!). And let's not forget the transformation scenes - instead of taking the easy way out and cutting around it with timid camerawork, director Rouben Mamoulian employed a spinning 360-degree shot where the transformation happens progressively before our very eyes (and kept the mechanics of his technique a secret for decades).

The Old Dark House (1932) - As the title suggests, it's your classic oh-noes-our-car-broke-down-in-the-rain-let's-take-shelter-in-this-foreboding-mansion flick, but with a great sense of humor and irreverence. The all-star cast includes Charles Laughton, Boris Karloff, Melvyn Douglas and Raymond Massey (among others) as the kooky/creepy residents of the house and its unfortunate but impeccably witty visitors.

The Invisible Man (1933) - Hard to believe, but Claude Rains' breakout role is one in which he's only momentarily visible. This being The Invisible Man, however, Rains is still very much the main character, and he takes viewers on a snappy and suspenseful ride. The special effects are still astoundingly good today, and I can't even fathom how they were able to create intricate interactions with all kinds of props and people.

Bride of Frankenstein (1935) - To be honest, I was pretty underwhelmed by the original Frankenstein (1931). It's certainly an important chapter in cinematic history, with some good moments and of course Boris Karloff's iconic performance, but it hasn't aged very well as entertainment. On the other hand we have the sequel, which somehow manages to be funny, sad, spooky, campy, and genuine all at once. Some people griped about Karloff's monster learning to speak (only up to about a caveman level), but I think it adds depth to each of the character's many facets - dryly humorous, lonely, destructive, monster, man. (And if you're wondering whether you can skip ahead to Bride without seeing the original, you'll be fine if you have even a totally basic understanding of the Frankenstein story.)

Cat People (1942) - Meow! I thoroughly enjoyed this feline flick, which is considered emblematic of producer Val Lewton's approach - high gloss on a low budget, implying things instead of showing them, and coating the whole affair in dark, dripping shadows. If the presence of 40s psychology, ancient Serbian curses, giant wildcats and bewitching actress Simone Simon doesn't sell you, then believe me when I say that director Jacques Torneur's manipulation of the suspenseful scenes honestly rivals prime Hitchcock.

Gaslight (1944) - No ghoulies or beasties here, but it's a shadowy Victorian thriller that chronicles a descent into madness. Ingrid Bergman nabbed an Oscar for her great leading performance, including a marvelous final scene, and she's ably supported by Charles Boyer, Angela Lansbury, and Dame May Whitty - not to mention a spooky house that seems to be turning on her. Director George Cukor proved himself to be just as skilled with Gothic chillers as with the urbane comedies he's known for.

Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1956) - Invasion flicks from the 50s that may or may not have symbolized fears of Communism are a dime a dozen, but this is arguably the definitive one. What sets it apart, I think, is that while many of its peers succumbed to hysteria and (perhaps unintentional) camp, IotBS keeps a pretty detached and serious approach despite its modest means. There are no giant ooky creatures, just plant pods that eventually turn into people identical to ones you know. There's no blood and guts, just a barely perceptible transformation into a high-functioning zombie. Very tense, taut, and effective. "You're next!"

Horror of Dracula (1958) - Eager to delve into the world of Hammer Horror, I started with one of their most famous titles and was not disappointed. With all due respect to the original Lugosi Dracula from 1931, that film - like the original Frankenstein - reads more as a historical artifact than entertainment (at least to me). Hammer's version has two major things going for it: sumptuous Technicolor and a lack of American prudishness. Thus we get to witness bold erotic undertones and gloriously bright red blood spurting out of the staked chests of numerous victims. The plot's pretty twisty too - the focus keeps shifting between characters, and I'm not sure that there's ever a definite protagonist. Plus, the ending kicks ass.

Cape Fear (1962) - Not exactly a horror movie, but Max Cady (Robert Mitchum) is one of the most deliciously sinister villains ever, and the ominous lighting turns otherwise friendly suburbs and lakeside cabins into claustrophobic nightmares. But the scariest part is the well-exploited truth that police can't really protect you from a dangerous person swearing revenge until they actually strike, leaving the audience feeling as helpless as the terrorized Bowden family.

The Raven (1963) - Roger Corman directs the holy horror trio of Boris Karloff, Peter Lorre and Vincent Price - plus an insanely young Jack Nicholson! And it's kind of a spoof comedy! All the fixings are here - dark castles, black magic, nefarious schemes - but with hammy performances and a hearty wink to the audience. You could probably even watch it with kids, if they're okay with the somewhat relaxed pace.

Plus a couple of recent picks:

Shaun of the Dead (2004) - Horror and comedy may seem like strange bedfellows, but it was a natural and common pairing in the 30s. Shaun rocks it like it never went out of style, combining the British comedy trifecta of Simon Pegg, Nick Frost and director Edgar Wright for what was called a "romzomcom." It does get rather scary and even heartwrenching at times, but it's balanced well by the fantastically smart comedy and I'm sure most weenies can stomach it. Did I mention it's hilarious?

Zombieland (2009) - Another romzomcom (who would have thought that that phrase could have multiple applications?), but with a lighter tone than Shaun despite its more dire circumstances. The talented cast has great chemistry, and of course there's That Cameo which despite being spoiled all over the internet is still amazing.

And to augment your viewing, might I suggest a liberal sprinkling of Looney Tunes? I've been getting back into them lately due to my boyfriend owning all the giant box sets, and I promise that they're as funny as ever. Plus, it can be fun to pair shorts with features. This link offers some viewing ideas to get you started, but make sure you include one of the two cartoons starring the supremely underrated character of Gossamer. Because he's a giant red monster that wears only sneakers.

This is truly only the tip of the iceberg and includes just the movies I can vouch for personally. However, my Halloween list for future years keeps growing, and if you too are hungry for more I've included some links for exploring other fantastic but weenie-friendly fare.

Classic Universal horror
Val Lewton's RKO films
Hammer horror
Films directed by Roger Corman

Happy Halloween, everyone! I've got a full slate of flicks lined up for the weekend, but I'm afraid that those will appear in next year's installment. In the meantime, what are your favorite Halloweenie flicks?

Catching up on a lost cinematic childhood - #2

2010-10-15T14:37:00.000-07:00

Some months back, I shared with you the terrible secrets of my movie-starved childhood. It wasn't that I wasn't watching movies; I just somehow managed to miss all the culturally important ones. But since I belive that 70s-80s blockbusters are just as important to film fluency as some of their loftier brethren, I'm holding myself accountable and trying to set things right. In my last installment I shared my progress catching up with classics from Star Wars to Dumb and Dumber, and here's more that I've either seen since or forgotten about for the first round. Again, these are films that seemingly everyone of my generation saw as a child or young teen (except me!).

Beetlejuice (1988)
Earlier this year, there was a Tim Burton exhibit at the Museum of Modern Art in New York that has since gone on tour. The exhibit featured drawings, designs, props, costumes, and any other film-related paraphernalia imaginable. Why do I mention this? Because sadly, I feel that Beetlejuice would have been more entertaining as an exhibit of this nature than as a film. The overall look of the thing is classic Burton and is a joy to revel in, but nothing seems to be gained from inserting people into the sets and costumes. I also found the character of Beetlejuice to be exceptionally grating. Sorry, Tim.

Big Trouble in Little China (1986)
This was my first John Carpenter movie, and I was pretty underwhelmed. Everyone has a different definition of good silly and bad silly, and I'm afraid that this was bad silly for me. The undeniable charisma of Kurt Russell is a strong point, but mostly it felt like an 80s arcade game with some arcane depictions of women and Asians. I didn't give up on Carpenter, however, and discovered that The Thing (1982) was much more on my wavelength.

Die Hard (1988)
And speaking of charisma, holy 80s Bruce Willis! For as epic and explodey as this gets, it effectively milks a really simple premise of one man against a handful of others. Many action films undercut their own impact by having a lot of characters, locations, and plot details, but less is definitely more here. Willis is at his peak, conveying not only gruff charm but the rare notion that the physical hell he goes through actually takes a toll on him (most action heroes perpetually seem like they've done nothing more than lift a gallon of milk). I was a bit underwhelmed by Hans Gruber, to be honest (maybe the notion of a sophisticated villain just isn't as novel to me?) but that might be partially because instead of experiencing the memorable debut of a new talent as 80s audiences did, it was more "why yes, that is noted thespian Alan Rickman."

Pee-Wee's Big Adventure (1985)
I ran hot and cold on this one. I think a lot of it depends on how on board you are with the Pee-Wee Herman persona, and while I could mostly dig it I think I was held back a critical 10% or so. That said, I did enjoy spending time in a completely uncensored Burton world that predates his seemingly interminable "kooky macabre" phase. I probably could have enjoyed it as a kid, but only if I had a special edition that edited out the Large Marge scene, thus preventing the need for years of therapy.

Rocky (1976)
I admit I approached this one with apprehension, because its reputation as a corny-but-classic underdog sports flick wasn't really doing anything for me. Why it has that reputation I have no idea, because this is first and foremost a romantic drama and a terrific one at that. It's just a superbly written, acted, and directed blue collar love story, with Sylvester Stallone acing the role of a talkative dork who is rather incidentally a boxer. It's telling that after the big fight, Rocky seems somewhat disinterested in the outcome and is focused solely on finding Adrian. Definitely deserves its classic status.

Who Framed Roger Rabbit? (1988)
A movie that combines film noir and cartoons? Where has this been all my life?! A combination that shouldn't work is a true delight, laden with cheeky references and wonderfully wacky characters of both the real and animated variety. Special effects that could probably be done pretty effortlessly today still hold up well despite how much harder it must have been to create them, and the animation and live-action meld seamlessly. Seeing it when I did was definitely for the better, though, since the villain (Christopher Lloyd) would have scared the crap out of me.

Return of the Jedi, the Indiana Jones films and the Bond films remain embarassingly unwatched by me, but I feel that I am slowly earning back my right to be an American child of the 80s. Have you seen any childhood staples for the first time as an adult? What did you think?

In memoriam x 6

2010-09-30T16:42:00.000-07:00

The Hollywood deaths need to stop, because it's bumming me out.

Seriously, though, I'm not usually one for eulogizing (or eugooglizing, if you're Derek Zoolander), but they've been happening so fast and furious lately that I figured I should say a few words. There's plenty of biographical information out there, so I won't bore you with that, but rather I'll relay my personal thoughts and feelings on each person. In chronological order:

Kevin McCarthy (age 96...he died a bit outside of the current "wave" but I'm including him anyway)
I'm not gonna lie and pretend that I've seen his work outside of Invasion of the Body Snatchers (although apparently he had a small role in The Misfits). But the film is a favorite of mine - I don't have much nerve for horror films, but I love this one for its eerie restraint. Nothing jumps out at you, there's no blood, and the villains are carbon copies of people you know. McCarthy makes a great transformation from suave and charming to frenzied and terrified. And apparently he had no qualms about parodying or referencing his most famous role in other films.

Gloria Stuart (age 100)
Three digits! You go, girl! I haven't actually seen all of Titanic, where she played her most famous role (I was watching it with a spacey friend who fast-forwarded through any part she found boring, which included all of Stuart's screen time). However, I can heartily recommend two of her earliest films - The Old Dark House (1932) and The Invisible Man (1933). Throw them both on at Halloween and bask in a time where horror was mixed with humor and snappy writing. (Side note: she was kind of a babe pre-Titanic, huh?)

Sally Menke (age 53)
A week ago, I could not have told you who Sally Menke was (to be fair, I probably only know a few editors by name, one of which [Roderick Jaynes] isn't even real). I obviously knew who Quentin Tarantino was, and I guess I could've figured that SOMEBODY edited his films. It's great to hear that they developed the working relationship that she did - she's edited all of his films from the start, and it almost makes you wonder how much of the Tarantino style is actually hers. From the chop-socky cuts of Kill Bill Vol. 1 to the tight but meditative pacing of Inglourious Basterds, it's clear that she was very talented. I imagine that his films won't be the same without her.

Arthur Penn (age 88)
Enough has been said about Bonnie and Clyde that I doubt I could really add anything meaningful, especially since I saw it a long time ago. But we may never know the full extent of its influence. He seemed like a visionary guy, and I'm definitely bumping Night Moves and Little Big Man up on my list of movies to see.

Tony Curtis (age 85)
I'm ashamed to admit that I've only seen Sweet Smell of Success and Some Like It Hot from Curtis, but that's all you'll need to adore him. That, and his fantastically irreverent personality and swagger. Oddly enough, I was reading his Proust questionnaire in Vanity Fair the day before he died and chuckling at his witty answers. When asked how he'd like to die, he said "Alone." He also wishes to be reincarnated as the son of Ali Baba. Let's hope he gets his wish...

Greg Giraldo (age 44)
I'm not really familiar with Giraldo's ouevre, but I'm mostly including him because it's just senselessly sad. Accidental prescription drug overdose. I take medication, and there have been times that I almost took too much in a day because I can't remember if I took it already. He died from that. May he judge "Last Comic Standing" in heaven.

Which of these people (if any) affected you, and how?

Is this actually a movie? #8

2010-09-21T16:32:00.000-07:00

It's been a while since I did one of these, but this one's a special retro edition taking us all the way back to 1989. Now, everyone knows that the 80s produced an abundance of schlocky, ridiculous or otherwise questionable films. However, only one of them starred Meryl Streep.

Ladies and gentlemen, I present: 1989's She-Devil.

There's not even anything that weird about this movie on paper - sounds like a pretty standard comedy about a jilted wife enacting zany revenge after catching her husband cheating. But it's all in the execution, I guess...you just have to watch the trailer, embedded below, in all its glowing-red-eye glory...

I guess they can't all be winners. But then again, as a testament to the fact that anything Meryl Streep touches turns to gold, she was nominated for a Golden Globe for her performance here. She even manages to look good on the poster while Roseanne threatens to eat her alive. Even when she does wrong, she can do no wrong. Damn you, Streep!

A to Z #3

2010-09-10T16:50:00.000-07:00

Hey, I'm getting pretty good at the alphabet! Today's rule is that the films must be from 1981 or after. Again, I picked a film for each letter that I like and would recommend, aiming for variety and trying to stay away from more obvious choices whenever possible. And thanks to the powers of the X-Men, I didn't even have to cheat this time! Click, explore, enjoy!
A The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford (2007)
B Barton Fink (1991)
C Confessions of a Dangerous Mind (2002)
D Dogville (2003)
E Election (1999)
F Fast Times at Ridgemont High (1982)
G Good Night and Good Luck (2005)
H Happy Together (1997)
I The Ice Storm (1997)
J Jackie Brown (1997)
K The King of Comedy (1982)
L The Lion King (1994)
M Mishima (1985)
N Night on Earth (1991)
O Office Space (1999)
P The Purple Rose of Cairo (1985)
Q ¿Qué he hecho yo para merecer esto!! (1984)
R Ran (1985)
S sex lies and videotape (1989)
T Three Kings (1999)
U Up in the Air (2009)
V A Very Long Engagement (2004)
W Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown (1988)
X X2 (2003)
Y The Yes Men Fix the World (2009)
Z Zodiac (2007)

#inadequatemovies

2010-09-10T16:20:00.000-07:00

So I'm a bit late to the game on this one...I stumbled upon the Twitter hashtag "#inadequatemovies," where the idea is to change a film title to something rather less enticing. Twitter was being finicky, so I found a goldmine of them in the comments section over at Glenn Kenny's blog. Does it get any geekier than having to stifle your laughter (in the workplace) from reading these? My favorite might be "Intern Zhivago," with "The Nifty Ambersons" a close second. And for some reason, as I was falling asleep last night and then commuting to work this morning, I couldn't stop thinking of my own. I share with you the fruits of my excessively nerdy labor. Throw down your own in the comments!

Jackie Beige
Reservoir Puppies
Permanent Resident Kane
M. Hulot's Staycation
Breakfast at Zale's
Last Jitterbug in Paris
The Passion of Joan of Arkansas
Schindler's Grocery List
The Spy Who Only Liked Me As a Friend
Big Trouble in Little Malaysia
Catch Me If You Feel Like It
The Prunes of Wrath
Pedicab Driver
Who's Afraid of Emily Brontë?
A Dozen Perturbed Gentlemen
Mandibles
Rebel With Justifiable Motivation
Assistance!
My Own Private New Mexico
Night of the Gatherer

Great comedic roles by dramatic actors

2010-09-09T14:39:00.000-07:00

It's fairly common for comedically inclined actors to take dramatic roles, particularly if they can sense awards buzz. Audiences tend to love when actors do this, gasping with shock and delight at the previously unseen depths of Jim Carrey or Robin Williams (and rightfully so). But a less ubiquitous and less-discussed jump is that of dramatic actors to comedic roles. It's a very risky move from their perspective - where funny guys and gals have everything to gain from making the leap, their more serious counterparts could lose major credibility. Another factor making these cases rare is that for better or worse, most actors from past to present have more than a few comedies on their resume, usually at the beginning. I started digging into the filmographies of stoic types like Gary Cooper and Fredric March - figuring that their gigs in the comedy Design for Living (1933) were anomalies - only to discover that they both got their start in a string of frothy yukfests. So I took up the task of finding great comedic roles from stars that did very little comedy in their careers (excluding voice work). Here are my picks, in chronological order:

Greta Garbo in Ninotchka (1939)
"Garbo Laughs!" proclaimed the tagline for this classic Lubitsch film. A modern reaction to that might be "so what?", but you have to understand that prior to this point, Garbo had been as serious as a heart attack. She starred exclusively in costume dramas and epic romances, always playing an enigmatic and devastating woman. For the first half or so of the film, she continues being deadly serious (in a role of a no-nonsense Russian official) but to the point of absurdity - my boyfriend and I were doubled over from laughing. After Garbo laughs, the humor slows down to make way for romance, but she's still charming and delightful in a way that audiences hadn't seen from her before.

Gene Tierney in The Mating Season (1951)
Known primarily as a femme fatale or seductress in films like Laura (1944) and Leave Her to Heaven (1945), Tierney gets to show her lighter side in this sprightly comedy that also features Thelma Ritter. Tierney plays Maggie, a girl from a rich family who tries to keep everything together after marrying a man she's known for a day. She's bouncing all over the place, particularly in an early scene where she makes the old gag of several simultaneous cooking disasters seem fresh. Perhaps it's unfair to single out this movie since it's unavailable on DVD and I only happened on it via TCM, so I'll also add that she has fun, saucy chemistry with Don Ameche in Heaven Can Wait (1943).

James Cagney in One, Two, Three (1961)
It was hard to pick just one for Cagney, who despite playing mostly tough guys also excelled in his relatively limited funny roles (see also The Strawberry Blonde and The Bride Came C.O.D.). Cagney's comedy is that of a man endlessly frustrated by the ludicrous circumstances he finds himself in, and he usually fights back by scheming, bellowing, or punching. In this criminally underrated Billy Wilder flick, he's a smarmy capitalist who has to keep his boss' daughter away from Communists in Berlin. He talks ten miles a minute leading up to the breathless third act, where he pulls out all the stops to rectify his situation. How lucky for audiences that he found another outlet for the rapid-fire delivery he cultivated in gangster pictures.

Edmond O'Brien in The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance (1962)
The town drunk in a western might be the oldest cliché in the book, so it's a testament to O'Brien's skills that the character of Dutton Peabody is not only bearable, but lovable. Known mostly for noirs, O'Brien doesn't do anything particularly unusual in his depiction here, although it surely helps that Peabody publishes the town newspaper instead of just lounging around. The film is not really a comedy, but for once the obligatory comic character doesn't feel like an awkwardly inserted drag.

Sterling Hayden in Dr. Strangelove: Or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (1964)
Here's a film that needs no introduction, but I feel that Hayden's contributions have often been overlooked in appraising it. Hayden starred almost exclusively in serious films (typically crime or noir) both before and after Strangelove, but his foray into comedy here is unforgettable. As Brigadier General Jack D. Ripper (subtle, eh?), he brings the perfect mix of swagger and demented insanity to a character who can deliver lines about the Commies' intent to "sap and impurify all of our precious bodily fluids" in a hysterically genuine way. He might just be my favorite character in the movie. I'll also give a shoutout to George C. Scott's work as Buck Turgidson, but his resume is surprisingly filled with quite a few comedies.

Natalie Wood in Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice (1969)
Wood was rarely a purveyor of laughs, but somehow she was a perfect fit for this sex satire. Maybe it's just me, but I've always found it hilariously incongruous when wide-eyed, innocent-looking ingenues speak bluntly and authoritatively about sex (see also: Maggie McNamara in The Moon Is Blue). Having absorbed perhaps the wrong message from a totally 60s spiritual retreat, she faces her husband's extramarital affairs with overwhelmingly zen acceptance. The "suburban housewife who has veered slightly off the path" role can be tricky, but Wood pulls it off with aplomb.

Robert Duvall in Apocalypse Now (1979)
No, I am not under the impression that this film is a comedy. But I love how in the midst of all the unfathomable warfare, we have the utterly irreverent Lt. Kilgore, who loves surfing, Wagner, and napalm. Someow in the chaos of the Vietnam War he's completely in his element - as casual as if he were sprawled on the couch at home. Just as the rest of the film dials it to 11 in terms of the horrors the men witness, Coppola lets Duvall go way over the top. And yet I don't doubt that Vietnam saw men just like Kilgore...

Sean Penn in Fast Times at Ridgemont High (1982) and Sweet and Lowdown (1999)
I'm hardly the first person to comment on Penn's unbelievable Spicoli-to-solemn evolution. But...damn! Nowadays he seems like the most humorless person alive, but his breakout role was as everybody's favorite stoner. With pothead characters a dime a dozen, it's telling that Spicoli has endured in our collective memory. And let's not forget his second comedic outing (and hopefully not his last - let's hope his on-again off-again relationship with the Three Stooges film in development turns permanent!) as jazz musician Emmet Ray in Woody Allen's Sweet and Lowdown. He dons a sort of manic persona - not entirely unlike Allen himself - and works up a frenzy opposite Samantha Morton's completely mute character.

Nicole Kidman in To Die For (1995)
Kidman has starred in a handful of...um...attempted comedies, but by far her most successful outing is as Suzanne Stone Maretto in this deranged Gus Van Sant film. She plays a sociopathic career woman to perfection, with perky renditions of lines like "you aren't really anybody in America if you're not on TV." Her strangely gleeful manner while plotting the murder of her husband is almost reminiscent of Alex DeLarge, and she won a well-deserved Golden Globe for her performance.

Jeff Bridges and Julianne Moore in The Big Lebowski (1998)
Bridges hadn't done much comedy before Lebowski, but something magical happened the minute he put on that robe. The result was one of the funniest and flat-out best characters of our time. To quote the film's mystic narrator: "Sometimes, there's a man, well, he's the man for his time and place. He fits right in there." Over a decade and dozens if not hundreds of Lebowski Fests later, it's pretty clear that Bridges did something right to make The Dude such an icon. Offering backup is Julianne Moore, proving she should really do more comedies (The Kids Are All Right is a step in the right direction, but it's really more of a drama). The "weird feminist artist" archetype is a pretty tired one, but Moore gives it just the right deadpan sensibility.

Mark Wahlberg in The Other Guys (2010)
After seeing this film, my boyfriend made the interesting observation that Wahlberg acts exactly the same in both comedies and dramas. In every role he has an overwhelming sense of earnestness and honesty, which Andy Samberg nails in the "Mark Wahlberg Talks to Animals" sketch - "Wahlberg" truly wants the donkey to say hello to his mother for him. In The Other Guys he's doing angry man comedy, a style that's often grating (I'm looking at you, Adam Sandler) but that Wahlberg can pull off because he actually seems like the type who would be angry all the time (whereas it seems rather misplaced with Sandler - maybe his characters are just constipated?).

What other performances can you think of? (And before you chime in with "I CAN'T BELIVE YOU MISSED ______", please note that for all of these actors I went painstakingly through every single film on their IMDb page, and had to cut out several that I would have included otherwise due to a higher comedy presence than expected.)

Poster fail

2010-08-30T15:59:00.000-07:00

It's not uncommon for various countries to produce misleading or incorrect advertising for American films. Perhaps the film hasn't premiered there yet or maybe someone's just plain lazy. Whatever the case, it can lead to hilarious results such as these (if you don't want to click on the link, you should know that there's a French poster for King Kong that heavily implies that the ape faces off against a giant shark). It's understandable how these things might happen in other countries. What I don't understand, however, is how an American poster would completely misrepresent an American film. Now, I know that sometimes advertisers will make a film appear a certain way to lure audiences, but that explanation doesn't really jive in the following case.

I was cruising around on movie poster site Carteles de Cine today, which is an incredible resource for high-res movie posters from around the world (albeit in Spanish - you can navigate it fine without knowing anything beyond "taco," but search by actor or director since English titles trip it up sometimes). I was on the hunt for a poster image for On the Waterfront, which as you probably know is a gritty drama that won a boatload of Oscars including Best Picture. But you can hardly tell from these bizarre American posters, which seem to believe the film is a...

...horror movie about Satan! (I'm not even sure who the red dude is supposed to represent, since he doesn't look like anyone in the film.)

...Looney Tunes cartoon and/or 60s beach movie!

And to complete the triumvirate of failure, here's another American poster that isn't quite as misleading as the other two, but does seem to indicate that Marlon Brando either appears in drag or plays the Joker...

Explanations? Conspiracy theories? Mocking comments?

Movie Memories: Hot Fuzz

2010-08-24T15:18:00.000-07:00

It's March 2007, and I'm outside my beloved Brattle Theater with a group of friends. The occasion is a free preview screening of Hot Fuzz, and we could not be more excited. We all love Shaun of the Dead, with some being "Spaced" fans as well (I hopped on that bandwagon later). Not only that, but director Edgar Wright and stars Simon Pegg and Nick Frost will be in attendance!

We get there probably about two hours early - eating, schmoozing, and goofing around in the (thankfully!) nice weather. The line of nerds grows longer and longer as we wait. A few promo people cruise through the line, and while a couple of my cohorts are out getting food the rest of us score T-shirts that inexplicably read "Grow your fanbase without having to sleep with gross people!" It was advertising something - not sure what, but it hardly matters. (I still have the shirt somewhere - I could check, but why ruin the mystery?) Our friends were mad jealous of our oversized duds when they got back.

And then, release the nerds! We crowd into the vintage theatre, scoring less-than-ideal seats even after being so early. We settle in the watch the flick and it couldn't be better - I even liked it more than Shaun, to be honest (seriously, if you like...anything, see this movie). The crowd is great too, responding enthusiastically to the action, comedy, and gross-outs. Afterwards, there's a Q&A with the three Brits (of which I can't claim to remember much), and then they indulge the crowd in requests for autographs and photos. This is where my absurdly bad luck reared its ugly head.

I push myself into the pulsating mob of geeks - I have nothing I want autographed but I'm vying for a picture with Pegg. A slight semblance of order and hierarchy forms, and I wait patiently as various fans get their DVDs and posters signed (including my friends - my now-boyfriend's boxset of "Spaced" bears the John Hancocks of two of the three lads, I believe). Then I hear the distant voice of the event organizer saying that the guys have to wrap it up. My turn hasn't come yet, and I might have resorted to some light pushing and shoving. It seems like I can still make it. Finally, I'm next - but then Simon declares the girl before me to be his last and starts walking away!

I panic, and since I still want something to show for my efforts but have no interest in physically dragging a celebrity into a photo op, I quickly toss my camera to one of my friends and say dammit, just get me and him in the same frame. He did, just as Pegg was making his exit across the stage. I got my picture with him...sort of.

I've posted the resulting picture below, which I find kind of hilarious. It makes it seem like I'm posing in front of animals at the zoo that I know damn well would never make an effort to pose with me. Due to being somewhat uncomfortable with plastering pictures of myself across the internet and/or destroying the illusion that I'm blindingly hot, I've blacked out my face. I promise I'm not on any wanted posters...just a bit shy in the photo department. I also added a couple of other pics from the event. Sorry for the low quality!

Pegg is the fellow with the hat that appears to be emerging from the right side of my head, Frost is the one is the blue striped shirt. Click to enlarge! I promise it's really them!

Blurry Nick Frost.

Three Amigos

For more proof the universe hates me, this wasn't even the first time that this had happened - a couple of years before, I was just squeezed out of an elevator (as in I would be the first person too many) containing Denis Leary. And one of my friends was in there, thinking the whole time that he was Willem Dafoe. Clearly I deserved to be there more than her! (But I'm not bitter).

Tune in next time, when I will regale you with a Movie Memory involving a much more minor celebrity...

A-Z #2

2010-08-20T13:56:00.000-07:00

Here's another solid 26 for ya...this time they have to be from between 1951 and 1980. The same rules apply - I'm going for a variety of years, genres, and countries, and for the tricky letters (Q, X, Z) they just have to be somewhere in the title. I endorse and recommend all of the below for your viewing pleasure!

A Alien (1979)
B Big Deal on Madonna Street (1958)
C Charade (1963)
D Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie (1972)
E Executive Suite (1954)
F F for Fake (1973)
G Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (1953)
H The Hustler (1961)
I In the Heat of the Night (1967)
J Judgement at Nuremberg (1961)
K The Killing (1956)
L The Last Metro (1980)
M The Misfits (1961)
N The Night of the Iguana (1964)
O On the Waterfront (1954)
P Picnic at Hanging Rock (1975)
Q EQuus (1977)
R Room at the Top (1959)
S Scandal Sheet (1952)
T The Thomas Crown Affair (1968)
U The Umbrellas of Cherbourg (1964)
V Vivre sa vie (1962)
W What a Way to Go! (1964)
X TaXi Driver (1976)
Y The Young Girls of Rochefort (1967)
Z All that JaZZ (1979)

Disturbing...

2010-08-18T14:21:00.000-07:00

The lovely nerds over at Total Film posted a list of what they consider to be the most disturbing movies ever - and based on the synopses alone, it's hard to argue. The link is here, but it's that annoying thing where you can only see one at a time - plus, the accompanying photos may be more than you asked for. For impatient types, a cheat sheet of the list is below:

25) Antichrist
24) Blue Velvet
23) Shivers
22) Martyrs
21) Man Bites Dog
20) Begotten
19) Aftermath
18) The Human Centipede
17) A Clockwork Orange
16) Flower of Flesh and Blood (aka Slow Death: The Dismemberment)
15) The Last House on the Left
14) Irreversible
13) Nekromantik
12) Men Behind the Sun
11) I Spit on Your Grave (aka Day of the Woman)
10) Happiness
9) Funny Games
8 ) Visitor Q
7) Salò, or the 120 Days of Sodom
6) Cannibal Holocaust
5) In a Glass Cage
4) Eraserhead
3) Audition
2) Threads
1) The Exorcist

I haven't seen very many of these films, and the ones I have seen are the more conservative or "commercial" of the bunch (you know, relatively speaking). In trying to establish my own limits on the freaky, gross, or upsetting, I realized that there's no firm line. An act of violence that's extremely disturbing in one film may be deliciously vengeful, perhaps even comical in another. The fact that I have an overactive imagination that fixates on the frightening means I have to stay away from horror for the most part. It's really just to protect my sanity and mental health - like a pregnant woman who would otherwise enjoy drinking alcohol avoiding it for the sake of the baby. I do like myself some dread and suspense, but most of the films on this list have provocations of the more visceral variety.

But in pondering this topic further, I realized that I can tolerate a fair amount of disturbing content in two situations. The first is if the tone is anywhere from silly/funny (Shaun of the Dead) to pulpy/entertaining (The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo). The second is if it has a point. I'm fine with a realistic war film, for instance, but few people would take issue with that (or they'd make themselves sit through it because it has historical importance). But taking it a step further, it just needs to have a point within the narrative. The violence in A Clockwork Orange works because you see Alex both as an aggressor and a victim, and the film uses that to paint a picture of moral ambiguity. In Happiness, where all of the horrors are spoken or implied (I think the worst thing you actually see is a guy masturbating), the characters are all three-dimensional and have both good and bad qualities (yes, even the child molester). Blue Velvet weaves a nice-guy-gets-in-over-his-head tale that seeks to unmask the hypocrisy of the suburbs. Even the infamous Audition has only two or so upsetting scenes, which underscore and enhance what is really a dramatic satire of gender roles in Japan.

Compare these to something like Salo or Antichrist, which from my understanding through the reading of detailed synopses consist primarily of psychosexual torture scenes, leaving you without much to compare against or build on. Who are these people other than that they do sick things? What does it mean? What purpose does it serve? Personally, I don't have much interest in watching disturbing content for its own sake. Obviously these films are trying to shock and provoke you, but I feel that goal is undermined when it's a 2-hour barrage of horror as opposed to some of the lines quietly uttered by characters you sympathize with in Happiness. There are plenty of cinephiles that would defend the examples I just listed, but what about #19, Aftermath, which is a documentary-style short film depicting nothing except a man doing horrible things to a female corpse? Would it make me close-minded to say that I'm not really sure what the merit of that film is?

Ultimately, I think that messed-up stuff in movies should serve the same purpose as cinematic technology - it should enhance the film, not be the film. Just as "I can shoot it in 3-D!" is not and should not be a movie pitch, neither should "There is so much necrophilia!" even if it's a movie about necrophilia (Almodovar's film Matador is about necrophilia, but in a balanced sort of way that explored what it meant to various characters and their relationships). A movie overloaded with viscerally provocative material can often come off looking like it has nothing to say.

What do you think? Do you enjoy or loathe disturbing films? Furthermore, how do you even define "disturbing" in terms of cinema?

Who are your most-watched directors?

2010-08-13T14:30:00.000-07:00

Whether by accident or on purpose, have you devoured a significant percentage of any one director's filmography? If you're not sure, tally them up - the totals might impress you! Sometimes you catch on to a director early in their career and can follow their releases theatrically; other times they are long gone and you have a lot of catching up to do. I never really made it a point to see every work by a certain director (except perhaps Pedro Almodovar), since there are usually a few duds holding me back. But through some vague combination of effort and coincidence, here are the directors whose films I've seen the most of, either by quantity or percentage - and I suppose they do paint a pretty accurate picture of my tastes. For my purposes, I am only counting feature-length narrative films that they directed all of (i.e. not just a segment), and requiring that the person in question directed at least five qualifying films (I mean, I've seen all of Jason Reitman's movies, but that wasn't very hard, now was it?).

The Whole Enchilada
PT Anderson - all 5 (including his debut film Sydney aka Hard Eight from 1996)
Wes Anderson - all 6
Christopher Nolan - all 7 (including his debut film Following from 1998)

Almost the Whole Enchilada
Quentin Tarantino - 6 out of 6.5 or 7 (I haven't seen Death Proof/Grindhouse, so however you'd count that)
Charlie Chaplin - 8 out of 11
Stanley Kubrick - 8.5 out of 13 (the half is for The Shining, which I watched with some friends in high school but was so terrified that I was looking away for a considerable amount of the running time. I heard the whole movie though...)
Orson Welles - 9 out of 11 (I'm counting F for Fake, his 1973 documentary/fiction hybrid)

The Double Digit Club
The brothers Coen - 12.5 out of 14 (the missing one is The Ladykillers, which is supposed to be terrible but I might watch someday to be a completist, and the half refers to the fact that I watched Intolerable Cruelty on a plane with varying degrees of attention)
Pedro Almodovar - 14 out of 17 (a number that will unfortunately remain the same until the final three get Region 1 releases or play at a rep house)
Woody Allen - 15 out of 39 (this excludes You Will Meet a Tall Dark Stranger, which comes out in September)
Billy Wilder - 17 out of 26
Alfred Hitchcock - 23 out of 58ish (the ish is because there's some unfinished, uncredited or co-directed business)
Special thanks to the various rep houses that helped me fill in some gaps!
How about you? Who are your most-watched directors?

Which is worse - trying and failing, or not trying at all?

2010-08-11T16:58:00.000-07:00

How do bad movies happen? In the most general sense, bad movies are born in one of two ways - either the filmmaker/creative team doesn't put in any effort, or do they try very hard and fail. But are all failures created equal?

I'm not sure. One on hand, these lack-of-effort films (think empty, loud blockbusters) seem to be easier to sit through. They're kind of dull and uninvolving, but they will never actively offend or agitate you, and you might even get a couple of laughs or thrills. You'll forget them quickly. The spectacular failures, on the other hand, can get under your skin. Their (subjective, sometimes) badness is confrontational and forces you to become involved (to cite an extreme example, some who have seen and disliked Antichrist seemed to have felt violated by the experience).

And yet, I find that deep down, I always have a begrudging respect for artistic failures. I could never accuse these films of being easy cash grabs - I know they were works of passion and vision. Sometimes I even find myself feeling a bit bummed out that a promising idea wasn't executed to its full (or correct) potential - I almost want to rescue the good parts from the flames and find them a loving home in a better film.

Of course there can be grey zones, particularly in determining the artistic intent of the filmmaker - you don't want to psychoanalyze. James Cameron said that he had been developing Avatar in some capacity since 1994, which prompted many snide remarks about his inability to write a half-decent script even over a 15-year span. But was he even that concerned with the script as opposed to the technical side? Maybe he really did just want to make something dumb and explodey that just looked really really cool (and a closer look reveals he only worked on the actual screenplay for about a year). Also, was Christopher Nolan even trying for the complexity and depth of emotion and psychology that some critics claimed he failed at? (There are also the unclassifiable oddities like Tommy Wiseau's infamous opus The Room, which he originally made thinking it was a masterpiece but eventually came around and embraced its cult status as one of the worst movies ever made.)

So why does any of this matter? Well, I believe in giving credit where credit is due, and it's frustrating when people push a film like Inception aside with the same indifference and snark as Transformers. That's completely unfair. Christopher Nolan made a film that, even if it wasn't the gift from heaven that we all expected it to be, is an exciting and well-crafted thriller. Like Avatar to Cameron, Inception was Nolan's pet project for years, and he built it with loving care and intelligence. Entertaining the masses while trying to offer something beyond robots and explosions is a noble goal, and even if the final product didn't work for you I can't really see how it deserves downright scorn. It probably has something to do with certain people's compulsion to shoot down popular films with a venom that would be absent if the film were more obscure. At any rate, I would hope that my esteemed colleagues would know better than to fall into that trap...but perhaps they need the reminder!

Multiplexes are loaded with no-effort failures that come and go (typically without being missed). But really, we need more noble failures (particularly of a mainstream variety)because they prove that filmmakers give a damn and think audiences are more than just dumb walking wallets. And even when people don't like a film that tried, we still get discourse. It's been heartening to see all the honest-to-god discussion of Inception, which is far more evolved than the usual "Iron Man 2 was okay" or "Clash of the Titans was gay and if you liked it you're gay." Here we have analysis, conspiracy theories, interpretations - what was the last mainstream film that could possibly have multiple interpretations?!

Ultimately, it's important to support these films even if they're not perfect, and tell Hollywood that you like to see them take risks. What do you think? Does it matter how a movie fails?

A to Z

2010-08-06T14:18:00.000-07:00

Here's a fun idea I found courtesy of Raquelle at Out of the Past - naming a movie you like/recommend for every letter of the alphabet. I started to compile my list, but I quickly realized that leaving it open to every movie ever made wasn't very interesting or challenging. Therefore, I gave myself a theme to work with, so that in the future I can come up with new themes/rules and see how long I can go without running out or doing repeats (if possible). My restriction on this round was that the movie had to be released during or before 1950. I stayed away from the more famous or obvious choices (as much as I could), and aimed for a mix of decades, genres, and countries. For the impossible letters, I tried to just find a title that included them. And this isn't a definitive list of favorites, but rather just films with my coveted seal of approval - all IMDB-linked for your pleasure. Off we go!

A - Adventures of Robin Hood, The (1938)
B - Brute Force (1947)
C - Children of Paradise (1945)
D - Diary of a Lost Girl (1929)
E - Ecstasy (1933)
F - Five Graves to Cairo (1943)
G - Gold Diggers of 1933 (1933)
H - Heiress, The (1949)
I - The Invisible Man (1933)
J - Jezebel (1938)
K - Kid, The (1921)
L - Lifeboat (1944)
M - Midnight (1939)
N - Night Train to Munich (1940)
O - On the Town (1949)
P - Panic in the Streets (1950)
Q - Quai des brumes (1938)
R - Rope (1948)
S - Stage Door (1937)
T - Trouble in Paradise (1932)
U - Bringing Up Baby (1938)
V - Visions of Light (Okay, I'm cheating. This is a documentary from the 1992 about cinematography, but they have extensive coverage of classic Hollywood. There's also a Ginger Rogers and Jimmy Stewart movie called Vivacious Lady that's not on R1 DVD and I saw that it was on TCM but this was before I had TCM but my mom's boyfriend did so we recorded it there but her DVR was messed up so it didn't work. So if I had actually seen that movie and enjoyed it, I'd put in here instead. But alas.)
W White Heat (1949)
X Pandora's Box (1928)
Y Yankee Doodle Dandy (1942)
Z Girl Crazy (1943)

Movie Memories: John Q

2010-08-04T19:33:00.000-07:00

If the name of this film is unfamiliar to you, don't worry. It's a lame Denzel Washington drama/thriller that's completely forgettable - to everyone but me, that is. For you see, what was just another paycheck to Denzel set the backdrop for a milestone in my adolescence.

It was February or March 2002, and I was 14 years old. I'm pretty sure it was a Monday, even though I hadn't gone to school that day - a snow day perhaps? February vacation? At any rate, I was just lounging around in my pajamas when I got a call from my boyfriend Andy. Now Andy was my boyfriend only so far as a 14-year-old could be anyone's boyfriend. The grounds of the relationship was that we declared ourselves to be dating, and talked on the phone almost every day. We were comically mismatched in every way imaginable - isn't it just always the case that at that age, you confuse the notion of "compatible suitor" with "available warm body?" (and you can't blame hormones, because these were typically very chaste relationships). So anyway, Andy calls and asks if I want to go to a movie. My first official date.

We decide on John Q somehow, and make the necessary driving arrangements with our parents. I hurry to get ready, throwing on my favorite shirt - a little airbrushed and rhinestone-studded number that says "FREE" across the chest for some reason. It's all so sudden that it takes a little while to realize what this night could mean. I have never been kissed before, and I'm quite aware of the long legacy linking movie theaters with hanky-panky. It's not long before I'm insanely nervous.

We get chaffeured to the theater by my mom, and soon the movie starts. Now, apparently this movie is terrible and boasts a whopping 22% on Rotten Tomatoes, but at the time I had no way of judging it objectively. For all its flaws, it's almost preposterously tense and manipulative. The suspense of Denzel running around a hospital with a gun and trying to save his dying son melded with my intense fear that I might experience my first kiss. Not anticipation or excitement. Fear. So imagine Mia Wallace immediately after the adrenaline shot in Pulp Fiction, but sustained for two hours. As far as date movies for 14-year-olds go, it couldn't have been more appropriate - they were plentiful opportunities for being jolted into clutching the other person.

So the climax of the film comes and goes, and I find myself literally paralyzed with terror, a terror so palpable that I can almost feel it again as I write this. I truly cannot move. Andy, meanwhile, is all too aware of the opportunities that this outing might provide, and he's staring at me with his face so close to mine that we're almost touching, albeit in a perpendicular fashion. I'm so terrified that we end up watching the entirety of the credits this way. Yup, right from Denzel to the very last intern, with Andy joking that I must find these credits exceptionally fascinating. Finally, the lights come up and the theater staff comes in to clean. I made it! A huge feeling of relief comes over me and I leap up to leave. Andy follows, and we make for the exit. But then a very unexpected thing happens.

We're in that narrow passageway that you have to walk through to get to the seating in a typical multiplex theater. I'm a woman on a mission, bolting for the door. Suddenly I hear Andy say "Wait," and then softly grab my arm and pull me in for a kiss. Now, admittedly from an outsider's perspective, this all sounds very suave and romantic. For me, however, it was a nightmare. He went in for the kill, and my body froze. I think it's fair to say that I did not participate whatsoever. We both had braces, which could not have helped matters. When my gal pals later asked if tongue was involved, I said I didn't know, which was the truth. It seemed to go on for hours, and yet it's as if I blacked out. One thing was for sure, however - the second it was over, I knew I didn't want to be his girlfriend any more. It had nothing to do with his kissing skills, but I guess that moment just crystallized that we had nothing in common and no spark.

Andy went on to date my best friend for four years (we had an amicable breakup, so I hardly considered it betrayal) and now he's in the Marines. I'm not in touch with him anymore, but no matter what, he'll always be my first. It happens to everyone - for me, it was Andy and John Q.

Underrated child performances

2010-08-02T15:23:00.000-07:00

Kick-Ass comes out on DVD tomorrow, which reminded me how awesomely bonkers Chloe Grace Moretz was in it. She plays an 11-year-old assassin whose fierce performance got somewhat overshadowed in the media by the fact that she says some bad words. I thought she did a great job, especially with the demanding physicality of the role (she fights grown men!), but acting-wise, I think she delivers more roundkicks than actual lines. She's a promising young talent with an interesting slate ahead, including the remake Let Me In and the Scorsese fantasy Hugo Cabret. But until then, I thought of some of my favorite child performances that were more, shall we say, verbal/emotional.

Here's the thing. I hate children. I absolutely loathe them. So if they're just sitting there osncreen looking cute, that's not enough to win me over. But at the same time, I cut them slack because, well, they're kids. Acting is hard at any age, and especially when they're young you just can't really expect them to be exceptional. So I don't hold it against them, but that makes it even more of a treat when one shines.

When I started looking into this topic, I saw a lot of the same names/roles come up again and again. Your Portmans, Fannings, Osments. So since I don't want to just regurgitate those, I thought I'd highlight some of my personal faves that don't seem to get as much digital ink. For my purposes, I define "child" as age 12 or younger - 13 or older definitely counts as "teen" and that's a whole other barrel of monkeys.

Peter Billingsley in A Christmas Story (1983)

RALPHIEEEEE!!! Seriously, though, I think the credit here might actually go to Jean Shepherd as the narrator. Without Ralphie's adult reflections on his childhood, watching him ham it up might be a bit too cutesy. But still, the kid's got a knack for comedy, and Ian Petrella as his younger brother is pretty great too.

Mason Gamble in Rushmore (1998)

Gamble is great as Dirk Calloway, the very young friend of protagonist Max Fischer. He is mature and sensible beyond his years, but the bitterness he projects when Max betrays him is extremely heartfelt and well-projected through the prism of little boy rage. Dirk has a special place in my heart because he's the closest cinematic equivalent to what I was like as a kid - an extremely smart, mature (hey, it's what my teachers said), and curiously deadpan outcast.

Jeremy Blackman in Magnolia (1999) [Note: I can't find his birthdate, but he's listed as a 2009 college grad, which would probably make him either 12 or 13 at the time of filming. Whatever, I'm counting it.]

As isolated child prodigy Stanley Spector, Blackman delivers a heartbreaking and inspiring performance of a kid who just wants to be taken seriously. From softly telling his dad that he has to be nicer to him or standing up to a game show host after a denied bathroom break causes Stanley to wet himself, his is a triumph for children everywhere. And no one appreciates the (appropriately) bizarro ending more than Stanley.

Grant Rosenmeyer and Jonah Meyerson in The Royal Tenenbaums (2001)
Though their screen time is relatively brief, this duo is very sweet as the identically-dressed sons of the overprotective Chas Tenenbaum, who constantly makes them run safety drills and never lets them have fun. They comply, but sadly and begrudgingly. So when their wacky grandfather takes them on a day of "forbidden" adventures, it's one of the most joyful moments in the film.

Maude and Iris Apatow in Knocked Up (2007)
Somtimes nepotism DOES work, as it does with Apatow casting his two daughters as the children of Leslie Mann (their actual mother) and Paul Rudd. What could have been essentially two glorified extras, these two imps are true scene-stealers, opting to play it a little more outrageous than you'd expect from little girls. Case in point: Maude's absurd and surprisingly graphic explanation of where she believes babies come from (it involves "your butt falling off").

Bill Milner in Son of Rambow (2007)
As I've mentioned previously, the whole "young innocent child" shtick has to really stand out for me to be taken with it. And here, as Will Proudfoot, Milner crafts just such a character. He belongs to a sort of Mormon/Quaker/Amish religious group that forbids him from numerous activities such as seeing movies. But life changes forever when a rebellious classmate named Lee Carter (Will Poulter, also great but disqualified from my list due to his age) shows him a bootlegged video of Rambo. From then on, we live vicariously through Will's thrills and mishaps of trying to recreate Rambo's adventures himself while bonding with the unpredictable Lee. Will has boundless energy and a sweet demeanor, and he serves as a great portal to one's own childhood memories of discovering taboo delights.

Kodi Smit-McPhee in The Road (2009)
Okay, so I didn't read the book because I am a bad person, but even just from seeing this movie I could tell that if you didn't have the right kid, it wouldn't have been worth making. I thought Smit-McPhee was incredible at maintaining the delicate balance the character needs. He has to be pretty frightened by certain events without being screechy and grating, and at the same time depict a character completely accustomed to a post-apocalyptic world without being unrealistically stoic. I was apprehensive going into the film, predicting that he would just be clinging to Viggo Mortensen and screaming "PA I'M SCARED!!!" the whole time, but I found myself very impressed.

The children of The White Ribbon (2009)
Maybe it's the stark black and white cinematography, or the austere 1910s clothing and environments, but I don't think I've ever seen more sinister-looking children outside of a horror movie. The young cast has an array of very interesting faces, made all the more creepy by the fact that their expressions are usually blank. There's an array of ages here, some of which are too old, but they all kind of meld together into an ominous ensemble.

I know that this list skews very recent, which is a total coincidence. Some of my older picks, such as Virginia Weidler in The Philadelphia Story (1940) and Diana Lynn in The Major and the Minor (1942) and The Miracle of Morgan's Creek (1944) turned out to be above the age limit. Oh well. So fill me in - what are your favorite performances by youngsters (under age 13)?

The 5000 Fingers of Dr. T

2010-07-27T06:23:00.000-07:00

Theodore Geisel, more commonly known as Dr. Seuss, created words and images that seemed like a great fit for the silver screen. Yet strangely, the full cinematic potential of his work was rarely explored, and almost all of his adaptations were for TV. There are three theatrical features adapted from his books: How the Grinch Stole Christmas (2000, live action), The Cat in the Hat (2003, live action), and Horton Hears a Who! (2008, animated). The latter two were critical failures and caused Audrey Geisel, Seuss' widow and current holder of licensing rights, to forbid any future live-action adaptations of her husband's work. It's a shame, because there is a lot of great stuff in those books and the films ruined them with overacting and shoddy CGI. But there remains another, much more obscure film in Seuss' filmic canon...

In fact, it's not based on a book at all, but rather an original screenplay (his first and only) by Seuss. It's The 5,000 Fingers of Dr. T (1953) and it's just as wonderfully demented as it sounds. The plot is more or less that young Bart has to thwart his nefarious piano teacher from imprisoning 500 boys (x 10 fingers each = 5000 fingers) to play a giant piano in unison for all eternity. While the film is definitely uneven, it's certainly worth a watch to revisit your childhood days when every unlikable authority figure was an evil supervillain. But an even more compelling reason is that the imagery is incredible - it's what a Seuss film should look and move like. Instead of digitally grafting comedians' faces onto CG renderings, we get charmingly organic sets and costumes shot in the brightest, most glorious Technicolor. This is how Seuss' world moves in (non-animated) three dimensions. Oh and did I mention that it's also a musical with lyrics by the Doctor himself? I've included images below to whet your appetite for this wacky masterpiece...

There aren't a ton of stills from this online...so just watch it! (For as much as it sounds like a lost treasure, it's actually on a Region 1 DVD and available from Netflix and Amazon VOD. So you have no excuse!)

The Office: a show for our times

2010-07-20T14:31:00.000-07:00

I know I don't usually write about TV - in fact, I'm not sure I ever have - but, um, there's a first time for everything!

Obviously "The Office" is in the off-season right now, but it's been on people's minds lately because Steve Carrell has announced that this upcoming season will be his last. Many are calling for his exit to signal an end to the show, but they'll probably just beat it into the ground unless enough key castmembers leave. The general consensus is that it jumped the shark long ago, and has been limping towards death ever since. I agree to an extent, but that doesn't mean I'm not emotionally invested in the characters and still chuckle a fair amount during each episode. I'm seeing this thing through to the finish. But with the end ostensibly in sight, I don't think it's too early to start eulogizing, analyzing what the show has meant and represented. And honestly, the more I think about it, this show has been goddamn revolutionary - not really in content or style, but message. And the message is this: the world doesn't give a shit about you and doesn't owe you anything.

What is this crazy lady talking about? It's just a funny show where Steve Carrell acts silly, right? Well, let me explain.

Every scripted television show I can ever think of has had it one of two ways: the show itself cared about its characters, or it just made them caricatures and didn't (and in both cases, it makes the audience agree). The former category covers all dramas and almost any sitcom made before the 90s - when something bad happens to the characters, either the other characters come to their aid or the music swells and the God of that show's universe seems to say, "I may not be able to help you right now, but I feel your pain." The latter category is much more rare, but a good example would be something like "Arrested Development" or even "30 Rock" at times, where the tone is just sheer absurdism and "feelings" don't really factor into the equation. "The Office," however, does have it both ways - the show doesn't care about the characters, but the audience does. What results from this is a veritable manual for coping in the modern age, a guide to finding values and priorities in a mediocre life.

When I say that a show doesn't care about its characters, I mean that the characters have misfortunes that are presented in a fairly serious light, but not resolved. A good example of this is Michael's loneliness and sense of failure in his personal life. In the Season 2 episode "Take your Daughter to Work Day," Michael excitedly shows the employees' kids a video of when he was on a children's show as a boy. On the show, young Michael says he wants to "get married and have 100 kids, so I can have 100 friends, and no one can say 'no' to being my friend." This clearly never happened in real life, and Michael is visibly upset. This becomes a theme that runs through the seasons, and while he will almost certainly be granted a happy ending, he's been miserable trying to get there.

The the real emotional hooks of the show, however, are Jim and Pam, and their evolution is closer to the average American life than anything else right now, on TV or beyond. It's unglamorous, painfully realistic, and has been teaching the audience to focus on what's important. Let's take a look at the two key episodes here. Even if you've seen them already, it might be worth a refresher, and these synopses aren't exhaustive but hit the major points for my argument.

- "Niagara." This is the episode where Jim and Pam get married. She is already pregnant, a fact she is trying to conceal from her conservative grandmother. Her grandmother eventually finds out and we actually never see them reconcile - for all we know, she doesn't attend the wedding at all. The night before, Andy tears his scrotum (!) and Pam is the only one sober enough to take him to the hospital. Right before the ceremony, Pam rips her veil and starts crying because her wedding isn't anything like she thought it would be. Jim cuts his tie in a show of solidarity; cue my tears. They realize that all these people they wanted at their wedding are just ruining it with their selfishness, so they run off and get married on a ferry that goes through Niagara Falls (and then return to the church to get married again in front of everyone). The newlyweds can't even get a moment's peace on their honeymoon - in the next episode, they have to deal with Kevin accidentally canceling Jim's credit card.

- "The Delivery." Three guesses as to what this one's about...Pam goes into labor but tries to postpone her admittance to the hospital until after midnight so their insurance plan gives them an extra day. Her contractions get closer together and she and Jim start fighting about what's best for her. Suddenly the contractions are very close together and she has no choice but to go. After the delivery, the staff is extremely terse with her - after all, she's just another patient to them. She has trouble getting the baby to breastfeed, so she requests a coach, who turns out to be male, causing great discomfort with Jim. It still doesn't work, and the two have a restless night. They are promptly kicked out the next day, and Pam finally gets the baby to breastfeed.

Here's the revelation: "The Office" dismantles the myth that anyone on earth other than you gives a damn about the most important moments in your life. Now, perhaps that's being a bit harsh, as surely close friends and family share your joy. But you are surrounded by others, from caterers to nurses, for whom this is just another day. The world doesn't stop for them. Compare Pam's delivery with the baby-having episode of "Friends" (which I guess I caught in syndication, even though I never watched the show otherwise), where the entire hospital appears to be at our heroes' disposal. Rachel has some trouble getting the baby to nurse, but this is quickly resolved and the whole scenario is played out mostly for Joey's humorous reactions. Really, having a baby just seems like a goofy good time and Rachel is still the center of the universe. On "Sex and the City," Charlotte's wedding to Harry is a disaster, but throughout it they just kind of chuckle and shrug and it never appears to be a real tragedy. Compared to these and other shows, the treatment of these milestones on "The Office" is pretty bleak.

The real message here, however, is just that you have to distill these moments in your life to what really matters. Will your remember your wedding day because of the perfect floral arrangements and bridesmaids' meticulously identical outfits? No, you'll remember being in love and being happy, and that's what Pam and Jim realize on the ferry even when everything else is falling apart. Is the birth of your first child supposed to be a thoroughly radiant experience from start to finish? No, nothing is guaranteed and every small accomplishment is a huge success (like when Pam finally gets her baby to nurse at the end). In this time of economic failure and an uncertain future, many people are readjusting their priorities - letting go of superficial things and learning to just be thankful for their loved ones and basic necessities.

For those of you whose response to this is "duh," well, good for you - but some people still don't get it. I remember reading an article (which, unfortunately, I can no longer find) about a family of four who couldn't afford to buy a house due the recession. It had the potential to be tragic, but I read on and discovered that they were not consequently homeless or even jammed into a tiny apartment. They were renting a large apartment (or maybe even a small house) and both parents had jobs, but they still considered themselves victims that were simply annihilated by the recession. The article even quoted the oft-repeated mournful cry of their young daughter: "Mommy, when can we buy a house?!" These people are still fixated on home ownership as some God-given right, completely ignoring the fact that their own neighbors might be facing eviction or poverty. These are people who need to hear what "The Office" is preaching.

I read an article last year that called the show "the most depressing on television," and while the author makes good points I disagree that you have to interpret the data negatively. She says it's depressing that Jim and Pam will never escape their dead-end jobs which they're not even that good at, and that they don't have any friends. Well, there are plenty of people like that - perfectly nice people with mundane lives and small social circles. Hell, I count myself among them. So what should those people do, jump off a bridge? Can't it instead be heartening to show that they can still find happiness with each other? Homer and Marge Simpson have been doing it for decades, and I don't see anyone complaining about that.

Now, obviously "The Office" isn't the first show to tackle serious facts of life. "Scrubs" is a good example of a funny show (not necessarily a sitcom, though) that masterfully deals with topics like ethics and dying. But what other show has really confronted mediocrity head-on? "The Office" shows viewers that if even people in a sitcom can't lead an easy life, then you sure as hell can't. Jim and Pam work a crappy job with a crazy boss, live in an ugly house, are exhausted from raising their baby, and have probably never shared a single Kodak moment. That sucks, and they know it and convey it. But they also have a happy family, and they celebrate their small victories. And in the end, that's what it's all about.

What do you think? Am I over-analyzing, or does "The Office" tap into a raw and critical part of the zeitgeist?