Aural pleasure

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?

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

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

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

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

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

Let's keep it simple, people.



Happy Oscar watching! May you win your betting pools!

Movie nerd wall!

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

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

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...

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

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!

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!

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

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?