A few weeks ago, one of the TV talking heads said that his or her parents had not been paying attention to the campaign or Barack Obama until the third Presidential debate. And it really surprised them. They said they thought they’d see Jesse Jackson on the stage with John McCain, but no… they saw Will Smith.

That’s a massive simplification but it’s still true on several levels.

First, there is a resemblance. Both men have a combination of physical and intellectual traits that appeal to wide American and international audiences. They have that lean look and quick wit that audiences respond to. It somehow goes beyond racial stereotypes. Conventional wisdom says that both of them are powerful figures who are, at the same time, “unthreatening” to white voters and moviegoers. I’ll accept that but from what I’ve seen, that quality, that desire to be accepted by a large number of people is not a pose or an act, it’s part of their personalities.

Second, other African-American celebrities paved the way for Obama. Most immediately, there’s the Oprah Winfrey endorsement. Who can say how much that meant? (By the way, I wonder what would have happened if Oprah had decided to endorse Hillary Clinton instead of Obama.) But in a larger sense, it’s not a stretch to say that Sidney Poitier, James Edwards (a “that guy” character actor in the 1940s and ‘50s), Woody Strode, Bill Cosby and Denzel Washington made it easier for white America to identify with a heroic black man.

Third, the whole campaign was a lot like a movie, wasn’t it? Or maybe a really good messy TV series with two fascinating antagonists and a huge supporting cast: Hillary Clinton, Mitt Romney, Ron Paul, Mike Huckabee, Cindy McCain, Dennis Kucinich, Pat Buchanan, Bill-O and Keith, Jeremiah Wright, Joe the Plumber (who’s used up about 14:59 of his fifteen minutes), Sarah Palin, the screwloose lady in the red shirt, Katie Couric, the first dude, Rachel Maddow, Chuck Todd and his maps, Tina Fey, Queen Latifa as Gwen Ifill (who knew?), and, of course, George W. Bush, the man who wasn’t there. For months, you never knew when you might turn on a radio or log onto a website and learn about the latest completely unforeseen seismic development.

Whatever else it might have been, the campaign was far and away the most entertaining, surprising and suspenseful that I’ve ever followed. I’m glad it’s over but I know I’m going to miss it. Someday it’s going to make a great movie—no doubt starring Will Smith.

“Saw V” opened last weekend with $30 million at the box office, but the most impressive thing about that might actually be the “V” in the title. Think about it. There have been five, count ‘em five of these movies that helped create the phrase “torture porn.”

As a fan of horror movies, I don’t care for this kind of thing. I didn’t really care for “Seven” either and the “Saw” movies are based on the same dark artfully grungy look and baroque plotting. Everything in them is so screwily complicated that I can’t suspend my disbelief the way you have to do for horror to work. If the filmmakers can create a believable world, I can buy vampires and monsters from outer space and giant spiders and zombies, but I just can’t get around the idea of some guy who must have spent hundreds of thousands of dollars and countless hours setting up these elaborate mechanical devices that are meant to exact justice on some other guy who didn’t pay his parking tickets, or whatever. Truth is, I’ve never really paid enough attention to follow those details.

But that has not been the case with many of my fellow horror fans. They’ve lined up for theater tickets to the “Saw” movies and they’ve bought and rented the DVDs and watched them over and over again. Because of that, the producers have been able to keep the franchise afloat in the same way that the “Halloween” and “Friday the 13^th” and “Nightmare on Elm St” kept chugging away literally for decades.

And those series weren’t the first. Far from it. Going back to the 1930s, the Universal studio recycled Frankenstein, Dracula, the Invisible Man, the Wolfman, etc. Jigsaw is simply the most recent example. Horror appeals to young viewers who like to see these formulas repeated over and over with inventive variations. Once a couple of movies with an identifiable character or premise have been successful, a built-in core audience has been created, and producers love built-in audiences above all others.

And it looks like next year, we’ll get a new version of “Creature from the Black Lagoon.” Don’t be surprised if we see the Gill Man return for the next series.

Think back to last year and you’ll remember that we had a full slate of exceptionally well-crafted sequels from the Bourne, Shrek, Harry Potter, Pirates of the Caribbean, Ocean’s 11 and Spider-Man franchises. As a group, they were some of the most expensive movies Hollywood has ever produced and all of them did well, both theatrically and on DVD. With the brilliance of hindsight, it’s easy to say that they were virtually sure things.

This summer has been different.

Looking at the sequels, it had been decades since the last Indiana Jones installment. Of the comic book characters, the most recent outings for Batman, Hellboy and the Incredible Hulk had not been strong enough to inspire massive confidence. Ironman had never been made into a movie before (and was hardly a Batman-level household name) and Sex and the City was a chick flick starring women—gasp!—over 40. Most of the big releases were definitely not sure things.

But as we approach the end of the season, we see that we’ve got three that have made more than $200 million (WALL-E, Hancock, Kung-Fu Panda), two that have topped $300 million (Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, Iron Man) and, of course The Dark Knight at $400 million and climbing. (And those are just the American numbers!)

And Mama Mia!, Journey to the Center of the Earth, Get Smart, Wanted, Step Brothers, Prince Caspian, You Don’t Mess with the Zohan and Sex and the City have either topped or approached $100 million.

Under-performers have been few: The Love Guru, The X-Files: I Want to Believe, Kitt Kittredge: An American Girl, and of course the dud that was Speed Racer.

Some have suggested that the weak dollar and the influx of European and Asian tourists has something to do with it; that these folks come to America, eat at the Hard Rock Café, visit Yellowstone and then catch a movie.

I can’t believe that visitors from foreign climes really mean much.

I suspect that we’re seeing a combination of two separate but related phenomena:

First, almost all of the big moneymakers are simply good movies. By that I mean that they have interesting characters played by excellent actors, well-developed conflicts, and special effects that don’t overwhelm the human element. You don’t have to be a Marvel fanboy to appreciate Iron Man, for example.

Second, I think that the biggest hits have had a lot of sell-out screenings and people who couldn’t get in to those movies have decided to go to their second or third choice instead of heading back home or playing miniature golf or whatever else it may be. They’ve been happy with those second and third choices, and maybe they’ve even seen a poster or a trailer for a third title and decided to make another trip to the multiplex. As a result, for a while at least, people are back in the movie-going habit.

Sure hope the studios can keep it going for the rest of the year.

Influential people in the movie business have been saying for the past year or so that 3-D is the future and they’re investing heavily in the process. James Cameron’s new 3-D sci-fi adventure “Avatar” is due in December 2009. Some studios have said that all of their new CGI animated features will be 3-D and there’s talk that George Lucas and Peter Jackson are re-jiggering their “Star Wars” and “Lord of the Rings” trilogies for 3-D.

I’ve been on record for some time as being a skeptic about the process. I am old enough to remember those dopey red and blue cardboard glasses that reminded me of particularly vicious hangovers. I’ve also seen one IMAX 3-D film that used much heavier glasses that were virtually a headset. They provided much more dramatic and realistic effects but after a few minutes, it felt like they were trying to suck my eyeballs out of my head.

So I went into the preview screening of “Journey to the Center of the Earth” with something of a chip on my shoulder. (It’s due in theaters July 11.)

I’m happy to report that I have been persuaded… at least in part.

First, I made a point of sitting where I normally do—left aisle seat, about 2/3 of the way back. The theater wasn’t that crowded and I could have moved to the center seats where presumably the effect would have been at its best, but I have my standards. The glasses use gray polarized film. They’re light, and large enough to fit comfortably over the conventional glasses that I wear. After a few minutes, I forgot about them completely.

The 3-D effects work well. You really do get a feeling of extra depth in conventional interiors, and you will jerk back during some of the things-flying-off-the-screen scenes. In most shots, you really don’t notice it one way or the other. I’ll leave a review of the film to Max, but the special effects had a certain crude quality, similar to the first CGI effects we saw a few years ago. Given the swift progress that Hollywood tends to make in technical areas, I expect that will change quickly.

So, I came away from the movie thinking that the process works much better than I thought it would. I’m still not at all sure that 3-D is the salvation of the theatrical business. It didn’t do that the first time they tried it in the 1950s, and even though it is so much more technically sophisticated now, it’s simply a tool that filmmakers will use well or poorly. I admit that younger viewers who have been raised on videogames see things differently, and doubtless they’ll be more receptive to 3-D.

For me, I’m not as resistant as I was, and I have to admit that there are some possibilities here.

You’ve got to give the American Film Institute credit for coming up with new ways to make up lists. Until now, they’ve done the “100 Best Whatever”—adventures, dramas, comedies. This week, though, they did 10 Best in ten categories—animation, romantic comedies, westerns, sports, mystery, fantasy, science fiction, gangster, courtroom drama and epic.

They assembled the usual combination of grizzled veterans and young puppies to talk about how wonderful these movies are, and they showed a bushel of mostly well-chosen clips. And their choices were fairly straight forward. There were no real surprises beyond some of the curious choices for classification. (“All Quiet on the Western Front” and “Saving Private Ryan” are epics not war movies? “In Cold Blood” is a courtroom drama?) And some of the rankings were head-scratchers. (“Blue Velvet” is the 9th best mystery and “L.A. Confidential” doesn’t even make the cut? Please.)

But the real purpose of these shows is to crank up interest in those older titles and, for me, this one worked. The new stack of DVDs That Must Be Watched Again includes:
Harvey
Hoosiers
Stagecoach
McCabe and Mrs. Miller
Dial M for Murder
Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid
Witness for the Prosecution
The Lion King

Now, if we can just figure out a way to end this unnatural preoccupation so many list-makers have with the number 10…

The full list is at http://www.afi.com/10Top10

Although I knew he was sick, so at least it didn’t come as a total shock, I’m tremendously sad about the death of director/actor Sydney Pollack, who succumbed to cancer yesterday at the too-young age of 73.
Sydney Pollack has directed two of my all-time favorite films—Tootsie (quite simply, a perfect comedy) and The Way We Were (a flawed, but perfect to me, political romance). And he co-starred in one of my favorite Woody Allen films, Husbands and Wives (he was just brilliant as a man whose mid-life crisis led to a highly inappropriate affair and a bout of hilarious self-loathing).
That’s three major film touchstones for me that this man was a part of. He’s best known for his directing—he won the Oscar for Out of Africa. But he was an underrated actor, I think. He was able to play a certain kind of under-represented character—the Jewish alpha male, if you will—and did so in an incredibly earthy, human way (he even managed to ground the loopy Eyes Wide Shut).
I felt like I knew him. Or at least, I wished that I knew him. Sometimes when a film icon dies it feels personal. This is one of those times.
RIP, Sydney.

I’ve been watching some odd DVDs recently—odd even by my standards. Here are three new releases and one blast from the past that you’ve probably never heard of.

Cave Women On Mars - 2 stars (Shadow Creek Productions)
This micro-budget black and white sci-fi lives up to its cheesy title with ‘50s era effects, the cheapest props imaginable and a guy-in-a-silly-ape-suit monster. In the distant future of 1987, two astronauts land on Mars where they find dueling tribes of matriarchal cavewomen and the aforementioned critter. Most of the fairly static action takes place in the woods. I’d guess that the cast and crew are all fans and that they had a lot of fun on the weekends when they made the kind of movie they used to watch on Creature Feature. Personally I prefer this kind of spoof when it’s done campier, flashier and trashier, and so these Cave Women are a bit too tame.

Night of Lust - 2 ½ stars (Microcinema International)
This one may have lived up to its title when it was made in 1962, but judged by today’s standards of exploitation, it’s thin beer. It’s also difficult to synopsize because large portions of the plot have been removed. According to the IMDb, the original French release ran 75 minutes. This version, which came to America after a court fight, has been cut down to 56 minutes. The story has something to do with nightclubs, strippers, drugs, gangsters and kidnapping but the producers decided to remove large chunks of footage for export. We’re left with grainy black and white scenes of mild violence and scenes of topless, bored looking French babes with bouffant hair-dos. Those parts are connected, sort of, by voice over narration that attempts to explain what’s happening but doesn’t really clear things up very much. And there’s also some smoky Chet Baker jazz. That’s nice, too. The whole thing is best enjoyed with appropriate amounts of alcohol and a group of friends who appreciate the humor.

Google Me - 2 stars (Killeen Films)
This curious documentary made its debut last month on YouTube and that’s probably the right place for what is essentially a feature-length vanity project.

One day, with nothing better to do, actor-Scientologist-poker player Jim Killeen decided to Google his name. He then contacted the other Jim Killeens that he found and managed to persuade six of them to be interviewed on camera with him. Accompanied by his attractive and often bemused producer Jeannie Roshar, he set off to visit an Irish priest, a New York cop, a Denver swinger, a St. Louis father of eight, an Australian social worker and a Scottish traffic engineer all named Jim Killeen. It’s not particularly compelling stuff though the first Jim Killeen is an amiable host. The structure is slightly reminiscent of the Jim Jarmusch/Bill Murray road movie “Broken Flowers.” It all ends with a Jim Killeen reunion that’s about as hokey and cringe-inducing as most big family gatherings.

The Flock - 1 star (Weinstein Company)
How bad could a thriller be if it stars Richard Gere and Claire Danes and if it was directed by Andy Lau, creator of the original Hong Kong “Infernal Affairs” (remade as “The Departed”)? The short answer is: Pretty bad. Imagine a hash of “Se7en,” “Silence of the Lambs” and “Saw” and you’ve got the major elements. Gere plays a sort of parole officer for sexual predators. He’s so enthusiastic about keeping his charges in line that he’s being forced out of his job. Claire Danes is his young replacement. While he’s showing her the ropes, a young girl is kidnapped.

The problems begin with one serious continuity lapse. Gere sports a prominent bandage on one hand that comes and goes from scene to scene throughout the film. Then there’s his haggard look and unfortunate haircut. And there’s director Lau’s curious fascination with helicopter shots of moving cars. Some of the desert locations are spectacularly desolate, but the resolution of the outlandish plot is simply laughable.

I have followed Max’s advice and went to see Iron Man and The Visitor. (For once and probably the only time, I am in complete agreement with both of her reviews.) Iron Man is about as good a summer blockbuster as you could ask for and The Visitor proves that The Station Agent was no fluke. It’s another story about several lonely people who become friends. That’s not the stuff of intense drama, but the film is never boring or slow. The reason is another low-key pitch perfect performance by its star Richard Jenkins.

Jenkins is a “That Guy!” character actor who’s probably best known as the dead dad in the TV series “Six Feet Under,” but he’s also done great work recently in Shall We Dance and literally dozens of other films.

There’s nothing surprising about a terrific performance from a character actor in an independent production like The Visitor, but it is surprising (a little) to fine a terrific performance in a summer blockbuster and that’s precisely what Robert Downey, Jr. brings to Iron Man. Sure, it has the neato-keen special effects and the familiar super-hero-learning-to-control-his-powers plot, but the best thing about the movie is Downey’s work.

A lot has been written about how his well-publicized personal problems add another dimension to the character’s situation and that’s certainly true. For my money, though, he created a guy who was much more complex and interesting than I expected to see in this kind of movie.

And that’s why I think it’s possible—possible, not likely—that both Robert Downey, Jr. and Richard Jenkins will get Oscar nominations for their work. Yes, they are longshots, but I think they’re legitimate contenders.

Remember, you read it here first…

Some theaters are now featuring older movies in place of conventional Hollywood first-run fare. I don’t know how widespread the trend is but New York’s Ziegfeld, one of the great movie palaces, has scheduled Back to the Future, E.T., Grease, and West Side Story recently, and they’ve got Planet of the Apes and Goldfinger coming up.

I hope they’re doing well, because as much as I love DVDs and the home theater experience, I’m afraid that the current generation of moviegoers really isn’t going to understand the recent past. I first came to understand that back in the 1980s and ‘90s when I attended the Virginia Film Festival. It’s a mixture of new and old films, and almost without exception, the older films proved their mettle. Thief of Baghdad (1924), Scarface (1932), My Fair Lady (1964) even Hitchcock’s rarely seen The Wrong Man (1957) were memorable experiences.

Oleanna (1994), The Good Mother (1988), Farewell to the King (1989)—I know I saw them but all that I can recall now are a few painful images.

I can’t count the number of times I heard people in the festival crowd say variations on “…but I’ve never seen it on a big screen.”

And if you haven’t seen Lawrence of Arabia or Ben-Hur or even Planet of the Apes on a big screen, you haven’t really seen them. Hokey as it is, the big finish to Planet of the Apes really needs that larger-than-life quality of a movie to work at all.

So, check out your local listings to see if any of your multiplexes have realized that there might be something more attractive to their clientele than Superhero Movie or Saw 7 out there.

And if you’re planning a trip to New York or live in the area, you could do worse than catching whatever is playing at the Ziegfeld. The theater itself is almost worth the price of a matinee ticket.

Here’s the link:
http://www.clearviewcinemas.com/cgi-bin/locations.cgi?id=042&flag=diplay_theatre

You know that much-maligned (and much read) feature in Us magazine: Stars: They’re Just Like Us?
Well, that’s the way I used to look at Jon Stewart. He reminded me of the guys I took AP English with—brainy funny; kinda cute in that nebbishy, doesn’t wear deodorant yet way; polite to the teachers; obsessed with the arcania of fringe pop culture—in short,  a nice Jewish boy.
But seeing him last night on stage at the Oscars, I began to perceive him in a whole new light. Maybe it was the greying around the temples (adding a certain gravitas?); maybe it was the confident way he took to the stage, trading barbs with George Clooney and  Jack; maybe it was the fact that he remained completely unflustered if a joke fell flat, just kept the patter going, knowing he’d have them laughing in no time.
Whatever it was, as I watched the entertaining (if unexhilerating) show, it was clear to me that Jon Stewart had become a man.
L’chaim!
(Sorry. Bad habit. . . )
His best joke? Gaydolf Titler, for sure. (Also loved the Norbit joke: “Too often the Academy ignores movies that are bad.”)
His best moment? Bringing Once’s Marketa Irglova back on stage. (Shame on you, Gil Cates, for cutting her off!)
Nicely played, Jon.

As for the show? I thought it was swift and smooth and relatively glitch free, but lacking in any of those “wow” moments that end up in montages. (and I feel like a freakin’ montagologist after last nite’s show.)
(Okay, Javier Bardem speaking in Spanish to  his crying mother in the front row MAY make the cut.)
My own prognostications were pretty mediocre (doh! I should’ve pulled the trigger on that Tilda Swinton pick. I was sooooo close to doing it, too. . .  I tip my hat to thee, Mike Mayo.) But I was largely happy with the winners. No Country For Old Men was the best film of the year—it deserved its honors.
One question: how is it that British people manage to be so gracious and articulate under pressure? One minute, Tilda Swinton is hyperventilating and appears to need oxygen. The next minute, she’s giving one of the world’s most smooth and witty acceptance speeches.

As for the aforementioned Once? Look, I was happy with their win for Best Song. But I had what can only be described as a “conniption” when Glen Hansard came out with that ratty, holey guitar of his. It reminded me of everything I didn’t like about that film—it was all so self-consciously twee and shaggy and under-doggish. It’s like, yeah, we know that you’re just a poor Irish lad with a song and a dream. But dude, you’re at the Oscars. Get a guitar without holes!

Having the members of the armed forces read the Best Documentary Short awards? A nice touch.

What else? Dresses. We had dresses! A lot of wickety wack, as my Project Runway pals might say. Is marabou suddenly in now? Please copycat designers of the world: make it stop before it even begins.
Rebecca Miller’s dress (she’s Mrs. Daniel Day Lewis) looked like she had forgotten to take it out of the gift wrap.
Marion Cotillard’s dress, while gorgeously fit, seemed to have gills.
Nicole Kidman’s ornate necklace might have been a winner, but it seemed to list toward one boob.
Tilda Swinton won the “my hair is so cool I can just wear a black potato sack” award.
Anne Hathaway’s dress, while a glorious red, appeared to have a giant lei on the shoulder.
Cameron Diaz’s pink dress was adorable. But her hair and makeup screamed: just back from the mall.
I was dying to see what kind of cute, funky dress Ellen Page would come up with. I wanted to see how a stylist would incorporate her tomboy chic look into her gown. Their solution? By giving her the most boring, non-descript look on the red carpet. Boo!

My favorites?
Hilary Swank was NEAR perfection (but again with the feathers?) in a black Versace gown.
Her prettier doppelganger (or is just me?) Jennifer Garner WAS perfection in an Oscar de la Renta taffeta gown.
Katherine Heigl filled Charlize Theron’s blonde Amazonian goddess shoes nicely in her red Escada number.
I also liked Amy Adams in that emerald classic gown. (But way to pull the Miley Cyrus switcheroo in the Enchanted waltz—for the record, that WAS Amy Adams singing in Happy Working Song but NOT her dancing in So Close.)

Speaking of Miley Cyrus: Who knew? That kid was so poised, so sassy, so loveable when she introduced one of the best songs, I may have to start TiVoing Hannah Montana.

And speaking of guys I went to high school with (that may be the longest distance between original reference and the “speaking of” to ever appear in written form), how cute was the Seth Rogen/Jonah Hill bit? “I have Halle Berry hands.” Har.

All in all, a good, if weirdly “international” night. It’s America’s most glamorous night!—featuring a whole lot of more talented people from Europe.

I love the smell of milkshake in the morning. It smells like… victory.

After the writers’ strike, it’s good to see all the glitz, glitter, glamour and superficiality back where they belong—up front at the awards ceremonies. Much as serious critics may decry the silly side of the business, that frivolous, sexy side of things really is important. It sells tickets and builds interest in the movies in general. Renee Zellweger looked particularly hot.

Best moment of the night was when Marketa Irglova came back after the commercial break to finish her speech. Really liked that song, too.

Daniel Day-Lewis should lose at least one earring. He looked really silly with two hoops. Denzel Washington with one diamond stud—just fine. Any guy—even the studliest NFL jock—who wears two big dangly earrings looks like a cross dresser who just took off his evening gown before his wife got home.

Should we have been so surprised by Marion Cotillard’s win for La Vie En Rose? I thought that the Academy would have been leery of giving the big acting awards to non-English speakers after Roberto Begnini pranced across the seats, but perhaps all of the nominees now have to swear to stay off the furniture. A quick check of Ms. Cotillard’s entry on IMDb shows that she’s already “attached” to two big-budget American projects—Michael Mann’s Public Enemies opposite Johnny Depp and Rob Marshall’s Nine—so the studio executives have already recognized this young woman’s talent.

They’ve done the same with the other big winners: Daniel Day-Lewis, Javier Bardem and Tilda Swinton. I don’t think that there is anything unusual to have four European actors winning the acting awards. Hollywood recognizes talent regardless of national boundaries and is quick to appropriate it.

I still have problems with No Country for Old Men—even more, actually, after a second viewing—but I’ve got to give the Coen brothers credit for keeping it real. I think these guys are going to continue to make the movies they want to make no matter what awards they win or lose or how successful they are at the box office. Can’t wait to see what their next one is like.

This whole Heath Ledger thing reminds me so much of River Phoenix, it’s eerie.
Another handsome, somewhat brooding, enormously talented young man cut down in the prime of life, apparently of a drug overdose. (Although reports have now surfaced that Heath was also suffering from pneumonia.)
Both actors COULD have had successful mainstream careers as heartthrobs and leading men but clearly didn’t give a damn about such things. Instead, they chose to take roles that were darker, less fan friendly, and more challenging.
Both actors chose parts that submerged them in drug culture. (River, My Own Private Idaho; Heath, Candy).
Both played a gay romantic interest to a popular, dark-haired leading man (River with Keanu in Idaho; Heath with Jake in Brokeback Mountain.)
Both were Oscar nominated (River for Running on Empty; Heath for Brokeback)—they leave behind an incredibly frustrating sense that their best work was ahead of them.
Both favored the urban, messy, indie rocker look—lots of caps and torn jackets and unwashed hair.
Both were involved with actresses (River with Samantha Mathis and Martha Plimpton; Heath with Michelle Williams and Naomi Watts).
Both had a physical beauty, as well as a sensitivity and depth and a kind of native sadness that really touched me.
I was closer to River’s age, so his death affected me more deeply.
But Health also had that beautiful little girl.
Damn. My heart is crushed just thinking about her.

Seven random observations:

1. Did anyone else notice that Tommy Lee Jones and Barry Corbin have virtually identical conversations in No Country for Old Men and In the Valley of Elah? In both, they ruefully admit that they’re over the hill and don’t understand what’s going on in this crazy old world. With the success of Alvin and the Chipmunks, I often feel that way myself these days, but it’s certainly odd to have the same scene in two movies. And both I Am Legend and There Will Be Blood feature agonizing scenes where the main characters crawl on their backs after their legs are injured. Curious.

2. Much as I admire Juno, I have to agree with Variety editor Peter Bart who noticed that Juno didn’t really sound very much like a 16-year-old girl. A lot of the time, she sounds more like a really smart script writer.

3. Why does I Am Legend have the wrong ending? Without giving anything away, the story reaches a nice twist when it appears that the vampires are hunting Will Smith. Until that point, they’ve been presented as essentially mindless beasts. Then, BAM!, there’s a lot more to them. But nothing is done with that development. Instead, a couple of new characters are introduced along with a sentimental and completely unsatisfactory conclusion. What happened?

4. And speaking of bad endings, how about No Country for Old Men, Atonement, The Golden Compass, and In the Valley of Elah?

5. Good endings: Juno, Lars and the Real Girl, Sweeney Todd, Michael Clayton.

6. Great ending: Eastern Promises.

7. Daniel Day-Lewis’s performance in There Will Be Blood certainly is mesmerizing, but it’s a bit less mesmerizing when you realize that he’s channeling John Huston. The character he’s playing also owes something to Gerald McRaney’s brilliant portrayal of George Hearst in the third season of Deadwood. Both are monsters of capitalism who are driven to own everything they can dig out of the ground.

Next: Max and I make our fearless Oscar nomination predictions.

 
I feel so lost today.
Normally, the day after the Golden Globes is a joyous day for me. So many websites to peruse, so many gowns and tuxedos to get catty over, so many fond memories of red carpet missteps (did Isaac Mizrahi just touch Scarlett Johansson’s boobs?), awkward on stage antics (Christine Lahti was where?) and Elizabeth Taylor hopped up on God knows what to reminisce over.
But noooooo. They took that all away from me.
Who’s they? Well, the stupid studio chiefs, I suppose. Can’t really blame the writers for wanting their deserved piece of the pie. But secretly, if I were strapped to that lie detector machine from Fox’s The Moment of Truth (can’t wait to watch that train wreck!), I’d probably reveal anger at the writers, too. My resentment, apparently, has crossed the picket line.
And it’s getting dire.
If missing out on the Golden Globes is like missing out on the AFC Championship Game (speaking of which: the Patriots vs. the . . .Chargers? way to step it up, Colts), missing out on the Oscars (which is becoming more and more of a real possibility) will be like missing out on the Super Bowl.
Studio chiefs, writers, do whatever it takes. Grab Jimmy Carter, Bill Clinton, Jesse Jackson, Rosie O’Donnell, whomever. Lock yourselves in a room and work this shit out. It’s getting personal now.

Oh, as for the actual awards? Atonement’s big win proves that the Best Picture race is on. I’d always suspected that No Country For Old Men (which had been cleaning up most of the pre-Oscar awards) was too highbrow, too dark, too clinically cold-blooded for the Oscars. The sweeping, gorgeous Atonement is much more their typical fare. So yeah, it’s waaay early for my final prediction, but Atonement is looking like the real deal right now.
It’s going to be one hell of a press conference.

The Critics’ Choice Awards took place last night and here’s the list of winners, along with my thoughts. Oh, and for the record, the big loser of the night was host D.L. Hughley. He was just consistently unfunny. 

Best Picture – No Country for Old Men
Given our organization’s track record over the past few years, this one has to be considered a favorite for the Oscar.

Best Actor – Daniel Day-Lewis, There Will Be Blood
DD-L never turns in a bad performance, and when he’s in a big production like this, he becomes the front-runner almost by default.

Best Actress – Julie Christie, Away from Her
I think that young Ellen Page may overtake Ms. Christie for an Oscar, simply because Juno is catching on with audiences at precisely the right moment and Away From Her did not do well at the box office.

Best Supporting Actor – Javier Bardem, No Country for Old Men
I still think that Hal Holbrook has an excellent shot at an Oscar in this category. He’s got the career and the respect and, unlike Julie Christie, he has never won.

Best Supporting Actress – Amy Ryan, Gone Baby Gone
I have to admit that Ms. Ryan did a brilliant job playing a thoroughly despicable character in a terrific, but flawed movie.

Best Acting Ensemble – Hairspray
Yes! Yes! Yes! The most enjoyable movie of the year gets a little respect.

Best Director – Joel and Ethan Coen, No Country for Old Men
I’d agree with the Coens’ win here for their brilliant and varied career, if nothing else, but I still wish that this movie had a better ending.

Best Writer – Cody Diablo, Juno
It says a lot that Ms. Diablo beat out the brothers Coen, Sean Penn and Aaron Sorkin to win this one. A very competitive category.

Best Animated Feature – Ratatouille
Despite the fact that the category also contained “motion capture” animation in Beowulf and conventional hand-drawn in The Simpsons and Persepolis, the Pixar guys are still the gold standard.

Best Young Actor – Ahmad Khan Mahmoodzada, The Kite Runner
I was sure that Michael Cera was a lock for this one since he was nominated twice for Superbad and Juno.

Best Young Actress – Nikki Blonsky, Hairspray
My vote put Ms. Blonsky over the top.

Best Comedy Movie – Juno
Another exceptionally competitive category with solid hits at every position. The win here bodes well for nominations at the next level.

Best Family Film (live action) – Enchanted
I voted for Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, but I can’t argue with the winner.

Best Picture Made for Television – Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee
I voted for Ken Burns’ The War and I was right.

Best Documentary Feature – Sicko
I voted for No End in Sight and I was right.

Best Foreign Language Film – The Diving Bell and the Butterfly
No love for Ang Lee’s Lust, Caution? Big sigh.

Best Song – “Falling Slowly,” Glen Hansard, Marketa Irglova, Once
I can’t say that I completely loved the movie or that I’m a huge fan of “singer-songwriter” stuff, but for my money, there was no question about this one. Their performance of the number in the film is one of the best moments of the year in any movie.

Best Composer – Jonny Greenwood, There Will Be Blood
I was really surprised that Clint Eastwood didn’t take this one home for Grace Is Gone.

The awards season is now officially upon us. The National Board of Review and the New York Film Critics Circle have tapped No Country for Old Men as the best film of the year; the Los Angeles Critics went for There Will Be Blood, and now our group, the Broadcast Film Critics Association has announced our nominations. (The winners will be named on January 7, 9:00PM, ET on VH1.)

If past years are any indication, we’ll be a pretty good predictor for the Oscars, but this is a very tough year to read, particularly where the women are concerned.

Note, for example, our ten nominees for Best Picture: American Gangster, Atonement, The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, Into the Wild, Juno, The Kite Runner, Michael Clayton, No Country for Old Men, Sweeney Todd, and There Will Be Blood.

Now look at the six nominees for Best Actress: Amy Adams (Enchanted), Cate Blanchett (Elizabeth: The Golden Age), Julie Christie (Away from Her), Marion Cotillard (La Vie En Rose), Angelina Jolie (A Mighty Heart), and Ellen Page (Juno).

There’s only one title on both lists—Juno. I guess that tells us that strong performances by women don’t make for strong movies, or at least the kind of movies that get the big nominations. And there’s only one solid big-budget commercial hit—Enchanted. (It’s nominated for Best Family Film.)

With the guys, it’s different. We’ve got George Clooney (Michael Clayton), Daniel Day-Lewis (There Will Be Blood), Johnny Depp (Sweeney Todd), Ryan Gosling (Lars and the Real Girl), Emile Hirsch (Into the Wild) and Viggo Mortensen (Eastern Promises) up for Best Actor. The only two that are not up for Best Picture are Lars, a small-budget indie, and Eastern Promises, an exceptionally dark and violent suspense film from David Cronenberg. Both are far enough from the mainstream that it’s really no surprise they wouldn’t be up for Best Picture.

Who’s going to win? Right now I have no idea, but I will be making my semi-infallible predictions soon.

Other ruminations:

Echoing Max’s blog, how did Laura Linney not get nominated? O.K., maybe The Savages is a bit too uncompromising for her to cop a Best Actress nom, but what about her terrific support as Mrs. X in The Nanny Diaries?

Juno is quickly turning into this year’s Little Miss Sunshine, and deservedly so; it’s a smart, funny movie.

Sean Penn’s Into the Wild got more nominations (seven) than any other film. Juno got six. Atonement, Michael Clayton, No Country for Old Men, Sweeney Todd and Hairspray were tied at five. Given that list and the Motion Picture Academy’s more conservative tastes and five-nominee limit per category, I think we’ll see Atonement, Into the Wild, Michael Clayton, No Country for Old Men and Sweeney Todd duking it out for the big awards, with Enchanted and Juno as dark horses (dark fillies?).

The nominees for Best Animated Feature show just how diverse the field has become. Bee Movie, Beowulf, Persepolis, Ratatouille, The Simpsons Movie. How do you compare those?

Nothing against the Dames (Judi and Helen) or the K(C)ates (Winslet and Blanchett) or even the Aussie twins (Nicole and Naomi)—all brilliant actresses, indeed—but it’s time that we started valuing an acting treasure on this side of the pond.
Quietly, and with little fanfare—annoyingly little fanfare—Laura Linney has been amassing one of the great film careers of all time. And yet where is her Oscar love? True, she got nominated for her breakout role in You Can Count on Me. And she was also nominated as Best Supporting Actress for 2005’s Kinsey. But she certainly should have been nominated for her role as the actress/wife on The Truman Show. All cheerful detergent commercial on the outside, Linney’s Meryl was in fact this close to a complete meltdown. (And when she finally blows, oh how she blows.) She played a similar role in this season’s underrated The Nanny Diaries as a Park Avenue Mother from Hell. No actress is better at showing the brittle side of American bonhomie. She brings that certain kind of well-bred perfectionist neuroticism to great comic heights—both hilarious and heartbreaking.
She was weak-willed yet defiant in P.S., as an insecure college administrator who played cruel games with her cocksure young lover. She was nearly perfect in The Squid and the Whale, as a loyal wife who chose not to be so loyal anymore. She was tragically smitten as the dutiful sister in Love, Actually. She is fearless when it comes to showing female sexuality—playing characters that are sexually brazen, sexually needy, or sometimes both. And yet, nothing.
But we can remedy that this season. Linney gives what is possibly a career-best performance in The Savages, as a pushing-40 playwright who is having a joyless affair with a married man, and who takes perverse pleasure in both her own lies (she drops them like tiny, conversational atom bombs), and her own melodramatic sense of nobility (it’s her martyr complex that allows her to lie with such guilelessness.) Watching Linney work with Philip Seymour Hoffman, who plays her world-weary brother—a man who hides his own vulnerability behind a baggy parka and pounds of girth—is a rare cinematic treat. We’re get to watch two of America’s great actors play off each other, in a script that is worthy of their gifts.
Oscar wins rely on a bit of luck. You need to be in the right film, in the right year, with of course, the right amount of studio muscle behind your bid.
To Fox Searchlight, I say this. This can be Laura Linney’s year. As of today, her biggest competition is Marion Cotillard in La Vie en Rose (and she’s—gasp—French!). And Julie Christie in Away From Her (uh oh, another Brit). So do what you have to do: Take out full page ads in Variety. Send The Savages (plus a clip reel of all of Linney’s great overlooked work) to every voting member of the Academy. Make her a Dame if you have to. (Is there an American version of becoming a Dame? An Oprah Winfrey endorsement perhaps?). It’s Laura Linney’s time, people. Make it happen.

The guys at KFTK in St. Louis asked me join them on the air for Halloween to talk about horror movies and to come up with a Sweet-Sixteen list.

I decided to go with titles that are mostly out of the ordinary, but still really really scary:

1. Pet Sematary (1989) Superb adaptation of one of Stephen King’s most frightening novels. (Warning: Avoid the sequel.)
2. Re-Animator (1985) The infamous “head” scene is a milestone of modern horror.
3. The Untold Story (1993) Hong Kong import originally titled Human Meat Roast Pork Buns.
4. Videodrome (1983) David Cronenberg’s disturbing exploration of sexy violence and violent sex. With James Woods and Deborah Harry.
5. Afraid of the Dark (1992) Young Lucas is worried that his mother might be a victim of a slasher. Or is he?
6. Pumpkinhead (1988) Special effects wizard Stan Winston’s directorial debut. With Lance Henriksen.
7. Trilogy of Terror (1975) Adaptations of Richard Matheson stories with Karen Black including the famous Zuni Fetish Doll.
8. Parents (1989) Are Mom and Dad cannibals, or is their darling little boy extremely disturbed? With Randy Quaid, Mary Beth Hurt.
9. Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer (1990) Loosely based on the “confessions” of Henry Lucas with a Michael Rooker
10. Near Dark (1987) Think The Wild Bunch with vampires and (again) the great Lance Henriksen.
11. Dead and Buried (1981) Small town with a secret has never been done with more warped imagination.
12. Basket Case (1981) One of the great low-budget horrors set in Times Square at its seediest.
13. The Brood (1979) Early David Cronenberg horror features very spooky children. With Oliver Reed.
14. Shallow Grave (1994) What to do with the new roommate who turned up dead? With Ewan McGregor.
15. An American Werewolf in London (1981) Still one of the scariest, funniest and sexiest. From director John Landis.
16. The Believers (1987) Mainstream director John Schlesinger’s tale of cultists preying on children still works. With Martin Sheen.

Rob St. Mary is an independent filmmaker in Michigan. A few years ago, he made Tainted, a horror movie that I liked. More recently he made a documentary called The Separation on State Street. It’s about what happened when a self-proclaimed witch named Anonka opened a museum in a small, deeply religious town. Later she became upset about a crèche on town property and wound up suing the town.

Sounded interesting and I asked Rob to send me a copy. But after I’d watched the film, my immediate reaction was negative… no, actually not negative; I found that I was angry for reasons that I didn’t understand. I emailed Rob and told him that I didn’t like the film, but something about it stuck with me, and we began an email conversation about State St. Here’s a condensed version.

MIKE MAYO:
I think that part of my problem is that I went into the film with the wrong expectations. I’m thinking we’ve got a story about a witch–nice, friendly, kinda kooky middle aged woman who wouldn’t harm a fly–but then she turns out to be darker than that. She’s not darker in a traditional “witch” way, but her “Inquisition Tour” is filled with crudely hand-lettered, grammatically incorrect poster boards and bad bloody models. I cannot imagine anyone paying to see something that amateurish. And then to put it in the middle of a conservative small town is like opening a butcher shop in a vegan commune.

It’s clear that she trusted you and gave you a lot of access to her interests. How do you want us to take Anonka?

ROB ST. MARY:
I told her flat out, that if she were willing to be the subject of what would eventually become The Separation on State Street, I would more than likely find out things she might not like and even wish that I didn’t put in the final film. I made it clear that I was going to follow this story wherever it would take me. In the end, she was open, honest and gave me full rein to shoot and ask anything.

But if your aim is to look for a hero in State St. you won’t find it in a person. It’s in an idea. That idea is the right for all — regardless of their ideas or religious philosophy — to speak before their elected officials without fear. In the end, I feel that I didn’t shape Anonka. Her movements, ideas and philosophy are her own. I just showed what happened in her life — as unusual as it may be — for those few years.

MM:
You would have had a completely different film if the people on the other side of the debate had agreed to be filmed. As it is, the traditional Christians come off well. How did you work around their decision not to take part?

RSM:
The issue was a tough one for me. At one point I didn’t know if I could go forward with what I had because it seemed to be “all Anonka, all the time”. But where I received help in bringing the opposition’s words, thoughts and feelings to the fore was with the news reports (television and print) and speaking to people connected to aspects of the case — like two local religious leaders and a former State Representative.

As for the film being completely different if some of the people had talked to me, maybe. I think the idea was to follow the case. To that end, I read every document filed by the attorneys on both sides. I have about a copy paper box full of legal documents.

But I think you wanted an answer on how I was able to work around people who didn’t want to talk to me. Well, there is always a paper trail of comment that you can find, especially on something in the media when you are a public official. When it becomes a legal case, there’s even more. I’ve found this in my own work as a reporter.

As for your comment that the traditional Christians come off well, I never really saw this film is a battle between religions. I saw it as someone’s right to ask a question, someone’s right to argue. If they happened to be a Christian, I still would have made the film. To me, dissent is important in this country. When we refuse the right of one person to speak, we refuse the rights of all to do so.

MM:
In the end, did you wind up making the movie that you thought you were going to make?

RSM:
In a way it’s what I expected and in another way, it’s nothing like what I expected.

I knew Anonka’s story was interesting. Why would this senior citizen open an Inquisition museum in the middle of a rural, conservative, religious American town and why would she complain to the county about the plastic baby Jesus on the courthouse lawn? Then, what would happen in the town after her shop opened and there was the complaint? This was playing out as the cameras rolled and I believe it’s a fascinating look at small town politics and the thousands of little cases you hear about in the news all the time, but don’t have the time to spend with each one.

Also, as an individual, whether you find her appealing or not, you have to admit Anonka is interesting. Whether you agree with her complaint or not you have to consider it an interesting piece of yarn, at least how the legal case twists and turns.

Which leads to… how did it come together? I shot over three years (from the fall of 2002 through the summer of 2005), shot guerilla-style, paid for out of my own pocket while working next to minimum wage, at times, and then I had to haul in about 50 hours worth of footage before my editor.

My editor, an award-winning filmmaker in his own right, Michael Pfaendtner spent about two years with me shaping the footage and with suggestions on pacing and other tweaks.

So, if you don’t mind — maybe a few questions for you, Mr. Mike?

What made State St. stick with you? What did you like/didn’t like about it? And, I think we may have talked about this before; how/why did your opinion change on reflection?

MM:
I think it was my reaction to Anonka that accounts for my unusual reaction to the film. I agree with you that she is an interesting character, but the more I got to know her, the less I cared for her. I really felt that her wounds were self-inflicted. Yes, she was denied the right to speak at the Council meeting, and the editor of the local newspaper did not publish letters that took her side. But in the end, I thought she was more interested in being the center of attention than anything else.

That bothered me, but the story stuck with me and I realized that my immediate reaction was too limited.

The Separation on State Street is playing at some festivals in the midwest this fall and may soon be available on DVD.

For more information go to www.knowsaint.com

Wow. The Emmy’s really sucked last night, huh?
Of course, had I uttered that phrase on the actual telecast, my words would’ve been muted and the camera would pan to a completely random disco ball hanging over the stage.
What exactly did that disco ball signify?
a. If you distract the people with a pretty glittery ball, maybe they won’t notice the censorship?
b. We didn’t need censorship in the ’70s, we were too busy dancin’?
c. This was the only stock studio image that Murray, the steady-cam guy, had available?
We’ll never know.
But okay, let’s get past the censorship. It was on Fox, after all.

The broadcast still blew.
Why does it seem that the Emmy’s are always a day late and a dollar short of the zeitgeist?
•Lost is clearly not the “it” show anymore, yet Terry O’Quinn wins for best supporting actor?
•The Amazing Race hasn’t been the “it” show, well. . . ever. And it beats out Project Runway and American Idol?
•Katherine Heigl isn’t even the best supporting actress on her OWN show (Sandra Oh takes that prize) and yet she beats out Aida Turturro and Lorraine Bracco?
•I love me some Jeremy Piven but he is sooo last year. Rainn Wilson (of The Office) is clearly the man THIS year.
•Also clearly the wrong James (Spader) beating out the right James (Gandolfini) for Best Actor in a Drama. Even Spader seemed a tad chagrined. (And for the record while, yes, I am a shameless Sopranos apologist, I would not have been grousing if Hugh Laurie had won. . . Again, House: hot show with hot star. Boston Legal: middling show with a ZERO water cooler quotient.)
•Finally two words that summarize what’s wrong with the Emmy voting system: Jaime. Pressly. (What? Pia Zadora wasn’t available?)
Grrrrr.
(Props, though, to the awards for Ricky Gervais, 30 Rock, America Ferrera, and, of course, my Sopranos.)

General thoughts:
•No, Ryan Seacrest was never going to rock our world as host, but I thought he did a fine job. (Although this whole, “is he or isn’t he gay?” shtick is getting old—just come out of the closet already. Or be straight. Or don’t disclose anything. . .whatever. Just stop flirting with Hayden Panetierre one moment and name-checking Christian Louboutin heels the next. It irks.)
•Robert Duvall was the winner of the evening’s “Someone Get Grandpa His Meds” award for his rambling non sequitor of a speech which included not being able to come up with the word Canada (“you know, up north. . .”) and referencing the “five Chinese girls” who helped with Broken Trail.
•Tony Bennett’s heartfelt homage to. . . Target (sponsors of his television special) was quite moving.
•Someone needs to put Lewis Black back in his cage.
•That Jersey Boys Sopranos tribute—with “You’re Just Too Good To Be True” being sung while images of Tony whacking people played in the background—was beyond surreal.

What else? What else?
Here’s how I rank the montages for “best writing in a variety, music, or comedy series” (always a highlight of the show) from best to worst:
1. Real Time with Bill Maher: Because I don’t want to live in a world where Larry Craig bathroom jokes ever go out of style.
2. The Daily Show: I also don’t want to live in a world where self-servingly amnesiac politician jokes ever go out of style.
3. The Stephen Colbert show: I really don’t want to live in a world where hitting someone repeatedly on the nose for laughs ever goes out of style.
4. Dave Letterman show: The same (admittedly funny) Bush shtick we’ve seen on the show just seemed lazy, if you ask me.
5. Conan O’Brien: Borderline offensive shtick involving migrant workers. Conan, you can do better.

Elaine Stritch, wanna come over for dinner?
That’s all I got.