Second-tier and loving it

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?

Auteurist amusement parks

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?

In memoriam x 6

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?

Who are your most-watched directors?

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?

Fun with Miis!

A few months ago, my boyfriend purchased a Wii. I'm not really into video games myself, but something we agreed on was that it provided lots of fun in terms of creating Miis. For those who don't know, a Mii is an avatar you design for playing certain games, and they're highly customizable. We first made ourselves, of course (mine is my Blogger avatar), but then being film geeks, we moved on to creating notable figures in the world of cinema, both real and fictional. I've provided some of our creations below, with hints to see if you can guess who they are. If you can't figure some out, don't worry - I'm sure that has more to do with either the limits of Mii creation or our own incompetence. You can peep part deux over on my boyfriend's blog.

Both a gangster and a song-and-dance man

French actress who's played everything from a prostitute to a matriarch

Just add hat and cane

Wanna flip a coin?

Famous, among other things, for her insistence on always wearing pants

With a Z

Her face has graced tacky merchandise first, movies second

Spaniard whose career is finally getting respectable

"Don't point that gun at him, he's an unpaid intern!"

Star of autobiographical show

Neurotic Jew

Why I don't get James Cameron

Recently, my boyfriend took it upon himself to give me an early blockbuster education of sorts, exposing me to all the big and beloved 70s, 80s and 90s movies that were integral parts of everyone's childhood except, for some reason, mine. The primary figure of study has been James Cameron. In a short period I've seen Aliens, The Abyss, The Terminator and T2 all for the first time. And what I'm about to say might prove very controversial.

I just don't get James Cameron.

I don't get why his movies are so loved - and note my word choice here - loved as opposed to just admired or widely enjoyed. I don't know why he's acclaimed so much as a director. I don't know why his films crack lists of bests along with undisputed classics. I will attempt to explain why.

First of all, while sci-fi and action are not the primary genres I'm drawn to, I have favorites in each - from Invasion of the Body Snatchers to the Bourne movies - and I'm always open to seeing these films when they're allegedly good. So this isn't a genre bias thing.

His primary motive seems to be not "I have this great story to tell," or "I have a creative vision to share with the world," but "fuck you, yes I can make this movie." I imagine that the reason he made The Abyss was that he was in a bar one day and someone mumbled something incomprehensible, at which point Cameron jumped up and yelled "Fuck you, I can too make a whole movie underwater!" and then stormed out and spent eight kerwillion dollars. This attitude seems better suited to a scientist or inventor - when I watch Cameron's films I always kind of feel like he's trying to prove things instead of entertain or inspire.

But my main problem is the technology issue. Cameron's films often seem like character and plot are secondary annoyances that are begrudgingly included. My thoughts on the frontiers of technology and cinema - and ergo, my beef with Cameron - were beautifully summed up by Andrew Tracy at Reverse Shot in his review of Public Enemies:

"As with directors of such disparate inclinations and scale as Steven Soderbergh, David Fincher, James Cameron, and Robert Zemeckis, [Michael] Mann’s films increasingly feel like vehicles for technological test-running and problem-solving—a preoccupation which is at least partially understandable, as filmmaking is a more or less ceaseless confrontation with technical decisions and challenges. However, the corresponding critical efforts to enshrine these endeavors as the most important content of the films that surround them—to pass over Benjamin Button’s inherent Gump-ishness or Che’s dramatic lifelessness or Miami Vice’s silly solemnity— willfully ignore the fundamentally mainstream (and often hopelessly vapid) tropes on which they are built. To claim that these technological adventures are broaching bold new cinematic frontiers is to pretend that these films aren’t the hobbled, intrinsically unbalanced works that they are." (You can read the whole thing here.)

Yes. This is it exactly. I was never in the habit of "excusing" or "overlooking" elements of films, particularly the story/script. After I saw The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, I noted how the dialogue (and the over-abundance of it) made me throw up in my mouth. This seemed to be the elephant in the room that critics didn't seem to mind because the effects were amazing, the cinematography beautiful, etc. I have two problems with this. Number one is that I always hold every element accountable, unless it was a decision that the filmmaker had no control of and even objected to (i.e. Production Code censorship and story mutilation). Number two is that if an element is so bad that it is taking me out of the movie, the movie as a whole is failing. If the dialogue is distractingly bad, I cannot just "forgive" that. The same would be true if I could see the zipper on the monster costume, or there are a glut of glaring historical inaccuracies, etc.

But this trend that Tracy is observing as a result of effects advancement and the digital revolution has, in my opinion, been the mindset that gave Cameron a career. No one talks about the ludicrous storylines, the storytelling cliches, the oft-flat characters (not all of them, don't kill me), the unironic saturation of 80s and 90s-ness that makes the movies age badly. They take the technological advancements in his films as evidence that the movie as a whole is great. That's like saying that fruit tastes good just because it was grown in space without soil or water. It's impressive, sure, but the evaluation of how it tastes is (and should be) completely separate. When I saw the making-of documentary for the The Abyss, it knocked my socks off. They had done things that seemed impossible, had worked around challenges I hadn't even considered when watching it. It made me appreciate it, but just because something is technically impressive does not make it enjoyable.

I can also appreciate that he goes all the way with his ideas, but there are plenty of other examples of filmmakers who do that to a better effect. That's because their visions are more cohesive, and I'm more willing to take a wild ride on something that's not just a self-indulgent display of technology. Additionally, sometimes directors with their wings clipped produce better results, so the "go all the way" approach shouldn't necessarily be praised as the purest form of filmmaking.

Furthermore, Cameron doesn't understand that if you don't have all the resources to do something, DON'T. For me, Aliens suffered from a visible effort to conceal that they didn't have the money to do everything they wanted to do. In many shots, there's supposed to be a lot of aliens, but they shoot it tight and shaky to hide the fact that there's not. It showed. If you don't have the money or resources to show a lot of aliens, don't create several situations where there's supposed to be. I understand that you need to up the ante from the first film, but maybe focus on one big alien that would be in your budget to construct and show, or several alien babies, or a meaner alien, or hell, wait several years until you can get more money. Similarly, in The Terminator, a lot of the effects are really good, but some, like the stripped-to-metal Terminator walking through the warehouse at the end look bad. With a mix of bad and good effects, you can't write off the bad ones as "well, they didn't have the technology then." They obviously had the technology to make some things look good, but they didn't know when to stop and overstepped their bounds. I'm not arguing for Cameron to become a minimalist - he directs action blockbusters, which are over the top in their nature. I get that. But if he learned to scale back in the right places, he could offer a tighter product that doesn't have spots which scream AND THIS IS WHERE WE RAN OUT OF MONEY AND/OR STAN WINSTON COULDN'T FIGURE IT OUT.

I think Cameron's bombastic audaciousness might have overtaken him to a point where it could be damaging. His new film, Avatar, comes out this December, and his method of creating hype is one of the most phenomenally stupid and self-defeating campaigns I've ever seen. He's spreading the word that the effects are so incredible and revolutionary that they can cure cancer and AIDS while raping your mind and changing your life. Usually, the biggest claim a blockbuster will make is "the best thrill ride of the summer" or something. That's very reasonable. It's not too outrageous to award that title to a movie. But what Cameron has created here is a situation where the movie cannot actually exceed expectations. It will either meet them, or, more likely, be lower. This very well could be a mind-blowing film, but the way Cameron has set it up will probably make it a disappointment. Already many critics and audience members at preview screenings are saying that the footage doesn't live up to this insane hype. Furthermore, it seems Cameron is under the impression that the entire world is waiting for this movie with bated breath - whereas in reality, no one outside of the film geek world knows about it. The trailer has only just debuted, and while "Avatar Day" - a worldwide screening of a 16-minute trailer - played to packed audiences, the verdict was very mixed. So to recap, virtually no one knows, and those that do know have expectations that are almost impossible to meet. What hath Cameron wrought? Is he actively trying to lose a lot of money?

If Avatar fails, that might dismantle the mighty Cameron, or at least put his ego in check and cause him to reevaluate his strategy. (Already he's dialing back the hype a bit - maybe he's catching on.) He's allegedly said before that he'd like to try his hand at an intimate drama - and I'd be interested to see what a James Cameron movie looks like without all the special effects and flash. Would there be anything left?

If these are the best female filmmakers, we're in trouble

My yearning to see more female directors / women's stories out there is one typically met with frustration and disappointment, but equally frustrating and disappointing is how this deficiency is approached and discussed. For instance, here's my response to the Women's Film Critic Circle awards, which in an effort to speak out against the lack of representation just ended up making us all look bad. And now, from across the pond, we have this embarassment: a feature in the Guardian about female directors. Now, if this was just an article proving that female filmmakers exist, it would be fine. All the ladies listed have made 1-3 feature films (with the exception of Gurinder Chadha, who has made 5), and of those, most have only one movie of acclaim or quality, or none at all. But what's this? They kick off the individual profiles with "These are six of the very best."

Whaaaaaaat?!?

Okay, let's break this down. Andrea Arnold won an Oscar for best short film, released her first feature, Red Road, in 2006 to okay reviews but no real recognition, and now has a film buzzing at Cannes. Little early to deem her a prophet. Nadine Labaki made only one movie, 2007's Caramel, which got pretty good reviews but again, is one movie. Her profile is suspiciously padded with influences and interests, and the suggestion that she doesn't have anything in the works. Chadha, the most prolific of the bunch, did make a huge splash with 2002's Bend it Like Beckham, which got good reviews and made, to use industry terms, an assload of money. But nobody really cared about her other movies. Kelly Reichardt is probably the most deserving woman on the list, since everything she's done has swept festivals and made the critics pee themselves with delight. Kasi Lemmons released a few features to big yawns, and Jennifer Lynch has one atrocious (like, 3.9 on IMDB and commonly found in the "Cult" section of video stores atrocious) movie under her belt, Boxing Helena, and another maybe okay one. Oh, and she has an upcoming fantasy/horror movie about snake people that doesn't exactly scream Oscar.

My point is, if the directors on this list were male, it would be pathetic. The list is almost condescending - it's bending down to these directors, patting them on the back and saying, "Oh, you made an okay movie or two, little female director? You are the future of cinema! You're so special, yes you are!" I would much rather that this article did not exist at all then have it exist but lower the bar. Equality will only come when we hold female director's accomplishments to the same standards of their male counterparts.

This article also, whether intentionally or not, gives a clue to why there are not as many female directors. After all, it's 2009. It's not like women don't stand a chance unless they sleep their way to the top. People aren't going to approach them on a film set and tell them to bake a pie. But there's a quote from documentary filmmaker Anne Aghion, who says "it would have been impossible to combine my career and the accompanying 16-hour days with any kind of family life." Bam. Even though it's 2009, most women still want kids. They want to raise those kids and be moms. I know this because whenever I say that I don't want kids, people are appalled and ask why, and then brush me off by saying I will inevitably change my mind. (But I digress).

Here's another radical idea: maybe not as many women want to be directors. After all, it's not like they're not afraid to be top dogs. There are female producers up the wazoo, with most blockbusters or Best Picture nominees sporting at least one. So I'm not sure we can still blame The System for keeping them down.

In conclusion, I just wish this issue was addressed with honesty. Don't sugarcoat someone's accomplishments just because they have a cooter. And don't act like every woman on earth would be a director if she could, but a vast government conspiracy is keeping them from it.

Marquee Makeovers: Imaginary Re-Dos of Current and Recent Movies with Classic Directors

I'm not going to take the fatalistic approach of many self-appointed film scholars and say that modern-day cinema is all crap. It's not. I've seen some great movies this summer - why just a few days ago, Superbad renewed my faith in the teen sex comedy. (The fact that it was written by a 14-year-old Seth Rogen and his friend - and has writing that kicks the ass of most of its peers - is a huge slap in the face to Hollywood. But I digress.)

Having said that, there IS a lot of crap out there. For everyone who moans about the demise of artistic, meaningful cinema, I have news for you: mad scientists in a volcano somewhere have discovered that these here moving pictures make MONEY. Money can buy you toupees and sports cars so people will have sex with you. As aging Hollywood bigwigs do not wish to remain celibate, they make crap. I know this is the system, but still a little part of me dies whenever somebody rents Wild Hogs at the video store.

I can't change the system. But I can create fantasies in this blog. So, without further ado, I present to you my dream "marquee makeovers" - pairing classic, talented directors with recent craptastic movies to see if they couldn't fix em up a little.

1. License to Wed, as directed by Alfred Hitchcock
The real movie: Sadie (Mandy Moore) and Ben (John Krasinski) are engaged, but a wacky reverend (Robin Williams) insists on putting them through a series of tests to determine their readiness for marriage.
The Hitchcock version: Hitchcock once lamented that he was a typecast director, and that if he directed Cinderella, "the audience would immediately be looking for a body in the coach." Well, sorry, Hitch, it's gonna continue here. Lovely Sadie has a whirlwind romance with dashing Ben, a man with a mysterious past. Despite knowing little about him, she enthusiastically accepts when he proposes. Her family doesn't approve of the union, so to get their approval, she enlists the blessing of a local reverend who is new in town. He agrees to bless the couple and perform the wedding only if they undergo a series of tasks to prove their devotion. Unbeknownst to Sadie and Ben, this man is only posing as a reverend to hide from the police, as he is wanted for several murders! The reverend's tasks are just an excuse for him to monitor their every move. Meanwhile, Sadie's relationship with Ben has become strained, as he has started acting strange. He is fed up with the tasks and just wants to elope somewhere and begin anew. One day, Sadie goes to the reverend to discuss the tension in her relationship, and he suggests they go for a walk. Back at the house, Ben is reading the newspaper and there is a picture of the reverend and a headline describing him as a wanted killer. Realizing that his fiancee is alone with this madman, he races to the church. By now, the reverend has already led Sadie into the woods, so Ben runs around like mad trying to find them. He sees them in the woods and shoots the reverend dead. He explains it all to Sadie, and they go to the police. Except you never know if the reverend was really trying to kill them OMG!

2. Blades of Glory, as directed by Billy Wilder
The real movie: Chazz Michael Michaels (Will Ferrell) and Jimmy McElroy (Jon Heder) are figure skaters disqualified from competing in the mens' singles anymore, so they compete as a pairs team.
The Wilder movie: Billy Wilder takes you inside the cutthroat and ethically ambiguous world of men's figure skating. Chazz Michael Michaels used to be the figure skating king back in the day, but an aging body, a flurry of scandals and a love of liquor caused him to fall from grace. Jimmy McElroy is the new kid to the sport, unspoilt by its demanding nature. Despite his skill and youthful optimism, Jimmy doesn't make the cut for the Olympic men's singles competition. Chazz, desperate to get back in the game and reclaim his glory, pounces on the naive Jimmy and offers to defy convention and become a pairs team with him. Jimmy idolizes Chazz and accepts the offer immediately. The trouble is, the public doesn't want any more of Chazz, and their partnership starts to tarnish Jimmy's image. Jimmy realizes this, but dumping Chazz would mean sacrificing his spot in the Olympic team. He tries to wait it out, knowing he'll lose the dead weight immediately after and be a star in his own right. Chazz, meanwhile, realizes that his plan to use Jimmy has backfired, and seeks his revenge. At the Olympics, Chazz gets violently drunk and takes several pills before he is to compete. He is a disaster out on the ice, dropping Jimmy in almost every lift and causing him to be seriously injured. At the end of the routine, Chazz collapses dead from the drugs next to a stunned and wounded Jimmy.

3. I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry, as directed by Woody Allen
The real movie: Chuck (Adam Sandler) and Larry (Kevin James) are two hetero firefighters who fake a domestic partnership for the benefits.
The Allen version: Chuck is Jewish, which is half the screenplay right there. Then add a lot of shots of New York. Then the two actually fall in love, and date for a while, but decide it won't work out.

4. Rush Hour 3 as directed by John Huston
The real movie: Jackie Chan and Chris Tucker are back, and now they're fighting the Chinese mafia in Paris or something. Whatever. Hey, isn't it funny that they have trouble understanding each other?
The Huston version: Chan and Tucker (does anyone even know their character names?) are jaded cops who reluctantly go to Paris despite fatigue and indifference. They're hunting for an enigmatic and charismatic mobster who is smuggling a valuable and stolen amulet across country borders. Their search takes them to the Swiss Alps, where they get lost among the terrain. There are signs that the mobster was there, but they are difficult to follow. The days are long and the pair engages in lots of intense dialogue about life. Chan starts to go kind of nuts and becomes suspicious that Tucker wants to kill him, so he runs away while Tucker sleeps to hunt the villains on his own. Tucker awakes and figures that the bad guys have captured his trusted partner, so he goes in heated pursuit. He encounters the mobster and his posse, who outnumber him and shoot him to death. Chan, meanwhile, sets up a complicated trap utilizing his natural surroundings, which the villains fall into nicely. Victorious, Chan delivers a scathing monologue to his captives, and then walks off into the sunset.

5. Evan Almighty as directed by Orson Welles (and yes, I am familiar with Welles' directing career outside of Citizen Kane)
The real movie: In this sequel to Bruce Almighty, God (Morgan Freeman) warns Evan (Steve Carrell) of an impending flood, and instructs him to build an ark, a la Noah.
The Welles version: Evan grew up poor, but has worked his way up and became a successful businessman. Now rich and arrogant, he believes that he begins to hear the voice of God telling him to build an ark. He does. He alienates his family and friends and becomes a huge jerk. But he also employs lots of people to help, and soon creates a thriving ark-building empire. The police get word of this profitable operation and decide to steal it from Evan and claim it as their own, because it's an Orson Welles movie so the cops are corrupt. Evan doesn't really notice this, because one of his workers has a femme-fatale-ish wife who hangs around all day and flirts shamelessly with Evan, who falls hard for her. They make secret plans to escape together on the ark. But then the woman's husband turns up dead, with Evan as the prime suspect. Scared for his life, he forgets all about the woman and runs away. He falls ill, and unable to seek medical attention because the police would surely find him then, he dies alone, leaving a trail of broken hearts and corruption. Did I mention that all of the above is shadowy and full of deep-focus cinematography?

What other good makeovers can you think of?