STARRING Jack Black, Matthew McConaughey, Shirley MacLaine
WRITTEN BY Skip Hollandsworth, Richard Linklater
PRODUCED BY Liz Glotzer, Dete Meserve, Judd Payne, Celine Rattray, Martin Shafer, Ginger Sledge
DIRECTED BY Richard Linklater

SHOT BY Dick Pope
EDITED BY Sandra Adair
MUSIC BY Graham Reynolds
DISTRIBUTED BY Millennium Entertainment

Screened 2012-04-11

Submitted: The Case of the Sunny Mortician. Bernhardt Tiede, an effulgent pillar of the tiny Carthage community, and his admitted murder of Carthage’s legendary old buzzardess, the wealthy widow Nugent. After the debacle was publicized in 1997, Skip Hollandsworth would write an article titled “Midnight in the Garden of East Texas” for Texas Monthly and detail Tiede’s beloved status in the community and the frustration of local DA Danny Buck in prosecuting him. Tiede did, after all, confessedly murder an octogenarian under highly incriminating circumstances. Nugent had become so dependent and adoring of Tiede that he had power of attorney over her, access to her bank accounts (which he charitably distributed to the community behind her back), preference over family members (recent Will tinkering left Tiede the sole heir to her not immodest fortune), as well as a kind of icky level of intimacy with her. And then there is the curious and hush-hushed tidbit about the 40+ videotapes featuring numerous Carthage males engaged in “misconduct” that were seized from Tiede’s home after the confession – this, btw, is omitted completely from the film (because, I imagine, Bernie is so well-liked). Danny Buck did successfully prosecute him and Tiede has been serving out his life sentence in a Texas Prison ever since, visited now and then by doting old Carthage dames, sweets and sweetness in tow.

Richard Linklater adapted Hollandsworth’s article with the writer’s help, and I wouldn’t be surprised if the primary reason was just to give Black a chance to play Tiede (which he does with relish). Bernie is not quite a mockumentary, not quite a dramatization, really just an indulgence in the quirkiness of Bible-thumping, bumble-eff East Texas and that glorious inexorable good will that we’d like to imagine elevates Tiede to the status of archetype. Jack Black does a marvelous job as Tiede, never ceases being watchable. It’s funny, because it’s easy to imagine how Black acting like an effeminate goody-two-shoes could wear on a viewer in short order, since Black (no offense) is more of a personality than an actor, getting by for over a decade just being himself. Yet his Bernie is very pleasant to watch from his first moments, singing (or perhaps proclaiming) a Christian pop tune to himself while cruising his sensible Lincoln through sunny, blank Carthage. And Linklater knows just how to use him, and how to make this story enjoyable (for better or worse). Apropos, the film is enjoyable and likely should not be, framing Linklater as a Blue-Square-level opportunist – not unlike Mr. Tiede. Taking advantage just enough, trusting that the good intentions and focus on positivity would prevent true damnation – primarily via some disgusted Carthage citizens who are not thrilled about sensationalizing Nugent’s sordid tale, even for the sake of laughter. It would be nice to imagine that Mr. Linklater endeavored to make this his point, his private polemic, but I’m surely seeing what I want.

written by David Ashley

STARRING Robert Downey Jr., Chris Evans, Mark Ruffalo, Chris Hemsworth, Scarlett Johansson, Jeremy Renner, Tom Hiddleston, Clark Gregg, Cobie Smulders, Stellan Skarsgard, Samuel L. Jackson, Gwyneth Paltrow, Paul Bettany
WRITTEN BY Joss Whedon, story by Joss Whedon & Zak Penn, based on The Avengers by Stan Lee and Jack Kirby
PRODUCED BY Kevin Feige
DIRECTED BY Joss Whedon

SHOT BY Seamus McGarvey
EDITED BY Jeffrey Ford, Lisa Lassek
MUSIC BY Alan Silvestri
DISTRIBUTED BY Walt Disney Studios Motion Pictures

Screened 2012-05-01

Extra! Extra! Whedon Services Fans!

With this intonation your adventure begins: “Put your 3D glasses on.” It’s appropriate enough, I spose, and unlike 3D venture Avatar there is no pretense of depth, we’re here to go on an expensive, amusing ride. If you know you like superheroes, well, you know you’ll like it. I don’t like to imagine a viewer’s experience who had not previously seen Iron Man, Iron Man 2, Thor, Captain America and The Incredible Hulk – surely a minority of Avengers viewers – but given Whedon’s love of formula, few will feel outright lost. I do like to imagine this film without any exposition or foreknowledge, one extravagant character after another being introduced, a preposterous chain of events unfolding without apology… could’ve been quite surreal.

The story’s central elements come from Thor: Thor’s angst-ridden brother, the demi-god Loki (Hiddleston), and his abuse of a Duex ex Machina called the Tesseract, a supernatural cube containing unlimited energy and a dimensional gateway (as well as an unfortunate similarity to Transformers‘s silly “Allspark”). Loki uses this Tesseract to travel cosmic leagues to our world with the intention of enslaving humanity, his previous pissy-ness now being bent to the will of a super-super-super-super-super-villain, some malevolent cosmic antagonist who comes off a bit like a ‘prequel Sith Lord,’ if you will (less critical pundits may call him Lovecraftian). Loki earns the wrath of superhero spy Nick Fury (Jackson) and his superhero secret agency, S.H.I.E.L.D., whose goal becomes the assemblage of the superheroest crack team of superheroes who will protect the whole Earth from ‘the big stuff.’ By the damn numbers, Whedon assembles his usual suspects:

1: Fiery Russian spy Anna Chapman – I’m sorry, Natasha Romanov (Johansson) – whose superpower is the ability to crush men with her thighs. Johansson has no trace of an accent and when her characters says, “I’m Russian, I’m used to revolutions,” the cognizant audience member cannot help but display visible consternation.

2: Elite military… archer?… known to us as Barton (Renner). That one’s never explained.

3: Genius geneticist Bruce Banner (Ruffalo) and his spotlight-stealing Hulk, who generally earned full house applause with every appearance.

4: “Genius playboy billionaire philanthropist” Tony Stark, the lovable Iron Man, played with usual relish by Downey Jr. Hands down the franchise’s cash cow (any successful ensemble needs its Han Solo).

5: Order-following goodie-two-shoes Steve Rogers (Evans), Captain America.

6: “God of thunder” Thor (Hemsworth), seemingly from a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, back when men were men.

A few quantifications… Two major locations are featured extensively: Nick Fury’s floating fortress, an aircraft carrier taken flight (for reasons unfathomable to anybody but a villain wishing to down it) and New York City, that endless metropolitan terrain every viewer subconsciously expects/wishes to see decimated. Obscene amounts of time are spent watching the characters: struggle to prevent the flying fortress from crashing – an event whose ramifications seem totally irrelevant; exchange glib, sarcastic, oh-so-Whedon banter (in fact, a surprisingly large plot point involves getting them to bicker); and, naturally, battling one another in mortal combat which never, ever takes any lives. There are three levels of acting present in the film: the very satisfying acting out of the always charismatic Downey Jr. and Ruffalo, who I seem to like very much, and probably Renner, though we’re used to him having more to do than just look angry (or are we?); the passable performances by Jackson and Hiddleston; and the ‘alright, alright’ performances of Evans, Johansson, Hemsworth and Gregg. It wouldn’t be a big deal if each character weren’t given equal screen time, which of course is often considered an asset in this production.

Now… after all that nitpicky bitchiness… I kind of enjoyed myself. I grinned, I chuckled, I winced as the sycophantic adult fanboy next to me had his Christmas seven months early, laughing louder than anybody in the full theater (that’s the main grievance of writing for the internet: the company). I entered grimacing, a child dragged along to a chore, and in the interest of enjoying myself decided to [legally] drink during the screening. And wouldn’t you know it, it was not a miserable experience! This is how I would recommend seeing this film to anybody else who is not already convinced he or she will like it, and you all know who you are, and you all know what your opinion already is. Anybody else, get a mallet, an anesthetic, or a cadre of children to host, as you would at an amusement park, and get in line.

written by David Ashley

PS – To the man sitting next to me: I can understand the desire to assert your dominance over lesser nerds, but I was not interested to overhear you regale the single males to your right about how you saw Dawn of the Dead the first time it was ever (apparently) shown in a fucking mall.

The Greta Gerwig Interview
for Damsels in Distress

My first interview in over 3 years. Quite nervous going into this one, primarily because I’ve known Whit Stillman intimately for some years yet was unenthusiastic about this recent endeavor. Was relieved to learn I would only be speaking to Greta Gerwig and not Mr. Stillman, though clearly it would’ve been a tremendous pleasure to have met him.

The Peninsula: swank hotel on Chicago’s North Side, glad I had an excuse to learn of it. Pacing nervously in the 15th floor hallway, smiling contritely and thoroughly overpreparing myself. Chatting with a young critic (it would be just he and me in the smallest possible ’roundtable’) who commutes in from Peoria for his screenings, god bless him. The door is opened and I am freed into Greta’s suite. Two young women (surely publicists/comrades) and Greta mill in a room for a lone minute between her interviews, and myself and my commuting contemporary prepare to take our expensive seats. Coffee is coming, Alex the PR Princess is very nice.

Greta steps out looking very smart in a dark navy suit-dress-thing and stands an inch or so taller than I in pink heels – I being 5’9″ and a half, and you’re damn right I’m counting that half. Of course as we’re led to believe, Greta comes off as down-to-earth, lacking pretense, smiling and always speaking in a charmingly nervous, stilted manner, demonstrating the effort she is putting into remaining natural while nurturing her burgeoning celebrity and the social power it grants. I shake her hand and say that it’s a pleasure to meet her. And from this point on – while the interview went very well – I would later feel guilty about acting too familiar with her. I was psyched, what can I say. Lots of slow contented smiling, lots of eye contact, lots of subtextual nourishment and encouragement. Anything I can do, Greta. I’m so happy for you. (Take me with you.) It means very little, altogether, and will not be recalled.

Rock ‘n Roll Ghost: Were you familiar with Whit’s work?

Greta Gerwig: Yes, I was. I was too young to experience his films as they came out in the 90′s. Last Days of Disco came out in 1998 when I was a freshman in high school… so… I saw Last Days of Disco first, toward the end of high school, and then all of Whit’s other films later. And I was friends with all film nerds in college and everything is so quotable… it’s really nerdtastic. So I love the films and I knew him really well, and he was totally iconic and important to me. I was really thrilled he was making another movie.

RRG: Did they find you or did you seek it out?

GG: Well weirdly, I had put [Whit] on a list of filmmakers that I was, like, “I’ll work with these filmmakers no matter what, I don’t care what it is, I don’t care how small the part is.” He hadn’t made a film in so long, I didn’t think that was a possibility… then I got a call from my agent, and she was like, “You’ll never guess who is making a movie, and it’s about girls, and you could potentially play one of these parts!” I then I think they figured it out with the casting director, and then I met with Whit. He had originally met with me for the role of Lily – which I would’ve been happy to play – but then I realized I was really falling in love with the role of Violet. So I wanted to play Violet, and I talked [Whit] into letting me audition for it, so I could “prove myself.” And in my audition I tap danced and sang, and that was not something they had asked me to do, I just wanted to prove I could do it, cause I knew it was part of the script.

RRG: I was wondering how Whit gets you to do his “trademark meticulous dialogue.”

GG: Yeah, he is totally meticulous. I mean, I think we worked out a good relationship in figuring out the performance, because I would do it bigger, like my first take or two would be a little bit bigger and more emotion, more over the top, more invested, and more “acted” in a way. And he will kinda just say, “Can you just do it normal? Can you just say the lines? You’re not bad, I don’t care about that.” And he would kind of continually damp it down. But I just thought, “You’re gonna want options. You won’t always want it to be like this.” So I just thought I had to give him these others things… he could be the one who… it’s much easier to bring someone down than to bring them up. So I figured… that would be the way we’d do it. And it seemd to work out pretty well. And part of it is, Whit as a person is not demonstrative and he’s not emotional and he’s pretty calm, and says these things very easily, in a considered tone of voice, so he’s looking for that.

RRG: I get the impression the atmosphere around there was very light, pleasant.

GG: Yeah, pleasant… it was like you were being invited to Whit’s Garden Party every day. He was always wearing a tie… every day he wore a tie… and a sport jacket, and his hair was always… He wasn’t even really sleeping and he always looked very put together. And it was always like, “Thank you for coming to work today.” (laugh) And it was very polite, and when we broke for lunch he would always take the time to sit down and eat his lunch, he wouldn’t be running around. He’s very meticulous, and that was really helpful because his characters are kind of extensions of himself, in a way, and [something] for ideas he has and just being around him informs the way you perform.

RRG: Did you just work with Woody Allen?

GG: (smiling) I did, yeah.

RRG: Kind of ridiculous.

GG: I know, it’s super ridiculous. It was awesome. It went by too fast, though.

RRG: What kind of role did you have?

GG: Well, I… it’s… I mean it’s not like Deconstructing Harry, but it is more vignettes…

RRG: In Rome, right?

GG: In (disbelieving exhalation) Rome. Yeah. It was completely surreal. I was in… my storyline was with Jesse Eisenberg, Ellen Page and Alec Baldwin, so it was just the four of us. And… I can’t really reveal more, cause…

RRG: Sure sure.

GG: You know, he wants it to be a surprise. But I will say it went by too fast. That’s the problem with these things, they go by too fast. They really do. It’s just the nature of it. And you never take more time to make a movie than you need to…

RRG: Well, you ostensibly have a long career ahead of you.

GG: Yeeeah, ostensibly… (laughs) You know, when you don’t make movies, you have no idea how long it takes to make. Like I would believed someone if they had said, “It takes a year.” OK, it takes a year to make a movie, I have no idea. So I just… love movie sets, and I’d like to be on one every day.

RRG: I get the impression those dance scenes were, maybe, the funnest scenes in the film.

GG: They were so fun to do. They were… I mean, it was like ridic… We filmed a lot more than what was in the movie. That’s always hard when you see a movie and you’re like, “There’s so much more crazy dance!”

RRG: I saw an interview with Whit where he said it was originally going to be much more of an actual musical, and it was taken down from that…

GG: Yeah… I mean I think by the time I read the script it wasn’t, but there was still more musical than ended up being in it. I would love to do a full, full-on musical, but, em… they don’t really make those anymore…

RRG: Not the Astaire stuff that Whit likes.

GG: No. I mean, I think the last… I think there was a moment when [They] were like, “Musicals are back!” around, like, Chicago and that movie with Penelope Cruz and Kate Hudson (Nine), that didn’t work…So I think that [They] were like, “Never mind.”

RRG: Last night I saw Aida…

GG: Aida, yeah.

RRG: At the Lyric Opera.

GG: Is that.. Puccini?

RRG: Uh, Verdi.

GG: Verdi.

(ego doing cartwheels)

RRG: I have this theory that modern musicals are a sort of shrunken, pop music version of what operas used to be… everything’s been going toward a slightly shortened attention span.

GG: Right. Well, originally when musicals started in the 20s and 30s, they really were these individualized [performances?] that these songwriters worked on, and then they’d tie it together with, like, a really sad story. Rodgers and Hart were a songwriting team and they wrote My Funny Valentine and a variety of other songs. Certain musicals that came out… like Babes in Arms, totally doesn’t make sense. Because it just had all these really great songs, and they were like, “We’ve gotta tie it all together!” So, like, “An aviator… who’s a communist… who smashes into a barn, in the middle of…” It’s so weird! And it’s got weird political undertones. But then it wasn’t until after World War II that musicals became Rodgers and Hammerstein, like South Pacific, and stuff like that, became like the whole story they told became an opera. And then in the 70s you have [...] . Fucking great. I love musicals. I’m a big musical fan. Love em.

RRG: I was gonna ask a “dream” question, too… Do you have a dream director you’d like to work with?

GG: Umm…. I have lots of dream directors I’d like to work with. I mean, I’d like to work with Woody Allen again, cause I couldn’t get enough. But, I mean… I have a list that everyone has: I wanna work with the Coen brothers, and Wes Anderson, Gus Van Sant, and P.T. Anderson, and all those dudes… and Kathryn Bigelow and Sofia Coppola…

RRG: How about crazy people like Von Trier or Haneke?

GG: Those are secret wishes! But Haneke doesn’t make English language films that often, so it’s like “I’m not gonna be in The White Ribbon…” …although I would totally be in The White Ribbon (laughs) Oh yeah, like Von Trier and Haneke, and like, look Bela Tarr wants to use me, I’d love to be in a Bela Tarr film. If Apichatpong wanted me to be in movie, I’d be in an Apichatpong movie. I guess my like Dream dream director is Mike Leigh, who’s my favorite director.

RRG: Greatest ever.

GG: Yeah, he’s the best ever. Another Year, when it came out, made me… it was like, I hadn’t seen anything really good in a while, and it just reminded me that things could be really really good. That people make good movies, and there are great actors, and… when you see something great, it’s almost like you can’t fake it to yourself. There are great things. And I wanna be making them… and I’m not always doing that. (laughs) That movie… Kenneth Lonergan. I loved Margaret…

GG: Whatever movie he does next. I have so many people that I like, and so many writers I think are amazing. The world feels very rich, even though it’s easy to get depressed about films and think, “Oh, nothing good is being made,” so many good things are being made. You just have to look a little.

GG: Movies that are good are entertaining. They’re not hard to watch, they’re fun to watch. It’s not like you have to be especially smart or educated, they’re just better. They’re better and they’re more fun cause they’re just really entertaining.”

RRG: I blame the marketers. If people were given the better choices, there’s no reason they wouldn’t choose…

GG: Sometimes in New York I feel so out of touch with the world. At Film Forum, where I go all the time, they’ll have like a Bresson festival and it’s always the single dudes there looking for girlfriends! (laugh)

The interview is concluded as I tell Greta that I was one of those single men at the Bresson retrospective recently here in Chicago. She finds this amusing, and I don’t blame her.

written by David Ashley

STARRING Greta Gerwig, Adam Brody, Analeigh Tipton, Megalyn Echikunwoke, Carrie MacLemore, Hugo Becker, Ryan Metcalf
WRITTEN BY Whit Stillman
PRODUCED BY Martin Shafer, Liz Glotzer
DIRECTED BY Whit Stillman

SHOT BY Doug Emmett
EDITED BY Andrew Hafitz
MUSIC BY Mark Suozzo
DISTRIBUTED BY Sony Pictures Classics

Screened 2012-02-24

“Precious Moments”

Greta Gerwig stars as one of Whit Stillman’s collegiate Flower Girls: Violet alongside Rose, Heather and Lily. When Violent isn’t espousing laminated high-minded rhetoric, she and her Future Uhb Club run an extracurricular Suicide Prevention Center whose simple-pleasure coping suggestions are clearly near to Stillman’s heart: coffee, donuts (Dunkin), pop music and dancing (in this case, tap). Like each of Stillman’s other films: any plot is loosely defined; the story seems to extend over about a year of personal growth; narrative beats fall on interpersonal revelations; and all character action centers on alternating eyelines and lovelines within sets. Each Flower Girl – except for the black one – has a romance which distresses her, and which she patiently, eloquently attempts to verbally work out for our amusement. And in Stillman fashion there is a Chris Eigemann-typed character played by Adam Brody, a sort of amoral wild card who knowingly deceives his adorably earnest contemporaries, yet somehow remains friendly with them. Unfortunately it is not Chris Eigemann, but Adam Brody does fine work. Did I already say Gerwig was fantastic? Maybe it goes without saying. She’s fantastic.

Violet, Miranda, Samantha and Charlotte content their collective righteousness by engaging in “Youth Outreach” which involves condescending to mingle with dimensionless frat boys – some of which are so dumb they do not “know colors” – mostly for the purpose of improving the school’s olfactory misdemeanors. Violet dates one such frat boy, partly to avoid the perils (hitherto mused on by Stillman) that come with dating a person who is “too attractive.” After this frat boy is caught in flagrante delicto with a potential new Flower, Violet tailspins, pouts, and becomes the customer at her own shop. Violet’s recovery starts when she becomes infatuated with the magical scent in a cheap motel soap bar and falls for the town liar. (Hm, in The Last Days of Disco Sevigny’s character also became depressed, then bounced between the liar and the mentally unstable character. Interesting.) Despair is finally trounced when Violet achieves her lifelong ambition (one I sense that Stillman shares) of starting an international dance craze. Be sure to say it the way Violet does, with ample enunciation: “International Dance Craze.” Like it’s sprinkled with fairy dust.

It’s hard to say exactly what this film is ‘about,’ and usually with Stillman this is not an issue. His output in the 90s chronicled the reactions of those maturing into adulthood, step by step – characters who are extraordinarily perceptive yet charmingly blind, and always well-spoken. Damsels, though, feels like it could’ve been the first script Whit wrote, one that sat on his shelf all this time and which he’s finally decided to make manifest. One feels a significant lack of meat; at 98 minutes it is quite loose, fluffy, insignificant – easily Stillman’s #4 – awkwardly paced, filled with strained silent moments, and, I’d say, far too reliant on the viewer’s adoration of Damsel Cuteness. Of course they’re cute, they’re cute as hell. I will not, cannot deny it. Creations of this sort could tempt you to admire Stillman’s ingenuity, but I am beginning to wonder if he merely likes penning cute characters a little too much. From the film’s opening moments I was instantly reminded of, actually, Wes Anderson and his meticulous cuteness, and I found myself pondering that maybe Stillman’s hiatus resulted from impotence caused by the proliferation of the adorable hipster bastard children that swarmed like bedbugs in the early Aughts (I’m sure that’s not the case). The mannered, elaborate dialogue was believable in the previous films because we had a sense that it came from over-educated, esoteric cliques. Here it feels considerably more cartoonish, emphasized by the lack of dimension to certain characters and the essentially broad-stroke-palette of the digital photography. Stillman clearly loves people, people-watching, and actors, and much (if not all) of the humor in his films comes from the viewer taking pleasure in watching a character be utterly caught up in her own drama. She stares forward, as so many of us do, taking her life oh-so-seriously, and the viewer can only imagine the shape of her inner emotional tumult. Like any pleasing work of art it is reliant on the viewer’s inference; Stillman is not daft enough to tell us what to think. Except, that is, when he thrice flatters the video distributor Criterion for their star treatment of his work. That you can’t miss.

written by David Ashley

Links:
Film’s site
Trailer
My interview participation with Greta Gerwig

WRITTEN BY Cynthia Lowen
PRODUCED BY Cynthia Lowen, Lee Hirsch, Cindy Waitt
DIRECTED BY Lee Hirsch

SHOT BY Lee Hirsch
EDITED BY Lindsay Utz, Jenny Golden, Enat Sidi
MUSIC BY Ion Furjanic, Justin Rice, Christian Rudder
DISTRIBUTED BY The Weinstein Company

Screened 2012-04-10

Bully follows an extremely awkward twelve year old boy named Alex who looks suspiciously like Butthead (of the duo) and, I’m sorry to say, has just about as much social capacity. It’s hard to tell exactly why Alex is so antisocial, so unquestioningly accepting of the abuse he receives; but I sensed more nature than nurture. Yes, bullying may make a boy introverted, shy, defensive, but Alex is seemingly oblivious in a way sensitive children are not, appearing more like a kid with a condition (Asperger’s, autism, who knows). Alex’s regular old American parents view video footage of him being abused on his morning bus route, realize the scope of his problem and take it to the school’s assistant principal, for the Nth time. Director Hirsch paints this woman as a monstrous, doublespeaking, hypocritical shrew, though admittedly it would be hard to edit that footage to make it appear otherwise. The result? A disconnected grandmother figure gives a quiet “good talking to” to a few bad apples from the bus route. And that is it for The Alex Problem.

There’s a black girl named Ja’Maya and a very happy and healthy lesbian named Kelby who we cut back to during the film about three times apiece – to follow their progress? No, nothing really changes in their lives… Ja’Maya gets the good ol American Black Bootheel and we are meant to become infuriated… Kelby gets the good ol American Gay Boothell, and we are meant to become infuriated (even though Kelby looks like she’s thriving with an adorable lesbian girlfriend and sensitive, supportive group of friends who follow her around like she’s Christ). And a few other times we cut, without reason, to young victims of abuse or parents of those victims – everybody is crying, wounded, pained, lost. “We’re nobodies,” say the shattered parents of a 12 year old suicide case. “I bet if it were some senator’s kid, they’d be doing something.” If I were a betting man, I’d bet Hirsch thinks so too – Hirsch, who was bullied as a child.

Is there a bullying problem in America? Sure. Clearly it’s only the tip of the Iceberg of American Emptiness, that old mystery. It is insinuated that there is a general lack of enforcement, that the children are utterly distracted and really quite out of control. Insinuated, but, like every other idea within this Pity Party of a film, never remotely elaborated upon. Lee Hirsch is not inclined to investigate The Bullying Problem and would prefer to spend the entire film lingering on one sad soul after another, our eyes quite unable to ignore his blatant heartstring twanging. These moments are like the simperingly saccharine manipulations of Michael Moore, yet lacking Moore’s social conscience. Just think about how unbearable that sounds. Hirsch only lets us see situations as he does, forgoing the camera’s objective eye, never standing back and letting us watch like proper voyeurs (as cinema would have us be). He gets down on his hands and knees and sticks his face uncomfortably close to the thing he’s looking at, not unlike a dog or cat sniffing an object of interest. This analogy further helps to explain Hirsch’s method of videography which is conceivably meant to emulate “the perspective of a modern child,” one whose focus never stops bobbing, shifting and blurring. I do wonder if he knows what he’s doing. Cutting to “birds in flight” is, after all, a disqualifying move for a contender.

A few other flies buzz around this production: the exclusion, wouldn’t you know it, of a dead child’s status as autistic, and the Weinstein rating debacle (blown completely out of proportion). I’m starting to think the problem is the press. Nothing is important – but since every person now has a voice, a complete reevaluation of the processes of media must be undertaken lest we drown. I suppose this was inevitable. I am hopeful – I do tend to believe that progress is a human inevitability. Provided we survive. That’s really all it boils down to. Nuke the Whales.

written by David Ashley

STARRING Iko Uwais, Joe Taslim, Doni Alamsyah, Yayan Ruhian, Ray Sahetapy, Pierre Gruno, Tegar Satrya
WRITTEN BY Gareth Evans
PRODUCED BY Ario Sagantoro
DIRECTED BY Gareth Evans

SHOT BY Matt Flannery
EDITED BY Gareth Evans
MUSIC BY Aria Prayogi, Fajar Yuskemal, Mike Shinoda, Joseph Trapanese
DISTRIBUTED BY Celluloid Nightmares, Sony Pictures Classics

Screened 2012-02-21

The Raid has met with some published critical acclaim thanks largely to the Toronto International Film Festival – but you’re either interested in the subject matter or you’re not. I seem to recall the last time I made an effort to watch Asian men be unstoppable with martial arts, I was about 21 and was wondering why I had bothered to purchase Enter the Dragon – the first time such thoughts had entered my mind. The film has happily sat on my shelf, untouched, since then. I would’ve sold it but found the profit would not be justified against the time spent. If anybody out there is listening and wants my copy, let me know and I’ll mail it to you! For free! I’d be happy to see it put to good use. So I’m sure that The Raid is an impressive martial arts film against the current standard, but for this viewer there was simply nothing to be seen, nothing to hold my interest – except my notepad in front of me, where most of this review was distractingly penned… I had to occupy my attention somehow or I would’ve become very depressed, after all. I felt better afterward.

So, here we are. A SWAT team arrives at a large slum apartment complex to enter and capture an apparent kingpin drug lord, HQed there. The complex is thought to have been impenetrable, even by the police – this is because it is populated by about one thousand agile young machete-wielding kung-fu supermen, who still incredibly fail to survive more than a few seconds when they meet our “protagonist” (somehow having a pregnant wife places us on his side). He’s just another SWAT team member, but he survives considerably longer than every single other team member, who are exterminated as rapidly as the fodder who careen down the same blank apt complex hallways at our hero. His survival may have something to do with his absolute and immediate command of any environment he enters, and any useful prop, or prop whose destruction creates a new prop. Our hero, btw, is Iko Uwais, a 29 year old silat expert who is quickly gaining international notoriety for his impressive physical prowess. Despite my mounting boredom with fanciful combat choreography, the film manages to be equally dulling when the action halts and we’re left with a story composed not by the writers of video games, but the fans of those writers. Such a film has the potential to be, maybe should be, fun. But it is less than fun, it takes itself quite seriously and is much more concerned with appearing cool. No humor to be found here. And when the end finally comes it’s somehow an anticlimax.

What was most disturbing to witness was the profusion of ultra-violence and its sale as sex. We, by the way, have CGI technology to thank for regular violence’s graduation to bombarding ultra-violence, an infinitely more capricious madness in which it is so much simpler to speedily knife every viewable part of the human body (there are enough warm bodies on which to practice), to add those bullet wounds in post-production so even less attention need be paid during the moments when those guns are pointed and fired (I would estimate the shell casings one could find on the complex floor during the events of this film would top 10,000). Uwais is a super soldier who, in melee mode, is attacked one man at a time, murdering the interchangable non-player-characters with the efficiency and omniscient foresight of Jason Bourne. I swear, the film is little more than a testing ground for murder variety, and for scenes of endless hand-to-hand combat where no hit makes an impression unless it is “impressive.” Welsh director Gareth Huw Evans clearly is largely inspired by violent video games, and I would’ve rather played The Raid than have experienced it. The film is best viewed by non-thinking, non-feeling, primarily youthful males – admission should require proof of Xbox purchase. Apropos, I can see it being best utilized as a tool of further indoctrination for military infantry, if one were so soulless. I, at least, was indoctrinated further into this belief: every Asian can fight and black people have rhythm.

written by David Ashley

STARRING Jason Segel, Ed Helms, Judy Greer, Susan Sarandon
WRITTEN BY Jay Duplass, Mark Duplass
PRODUCED BY Lianne Halfon, Russell Smith, Jason Reitman
DIRECTED BY Jay Duplass, Mark Duplass

SHOT BY Jas Shelton
EDITED BY Jay DeubyMUSIC BY Michael Andrews
DISTRIBUTED BY Paramount Vintage

Screened 2012-03-08

Jeff (Jason Segel) is an unambitious 30 year old pothead who lives in Susan Sarandon’s basement, if Susan Sarandon was doing little more than working in an anonymous office in Baton Rouge. Jeff cannot so much as evacuate his bowels without reading the tea leaves left in the bowl for a glimpse into his destiny – a destiny whose patterns consume all of his waking attention. And he couldn’t be more different than his myopic shithead brother Pat (Ed Helms) who never listens to a word another person says and somehow can afford a porsche while only working in a print shop. This man literally throws away his marriage, his life, for this caprice, and he proceeds to crash it mere hours later in an act of, really, unfathomable idiocy. This, however, is quickly forgotten as Pat spies his wife (the cutely shrill Judy Greer) in the company of another male and, you guessed it, goes on a romcom tear of amateur stalking with Jeff in tow, Jeff predictably doing the “whoa, relax, man” routine to loosen him up. Juxtaposed to this story is Susan Sarandon sitting at her computer in her cubicle, and we watch as IM messages come to her and she scrunches her face to decipher them. In real time. That’s about 50% of her part of the story (we have officially entered an era in which we will be seeing a great deal more digital text exchange before our collective eyes). By the end of the film “destiny has revealed its plan” to each character and Jeff is contented that his stuporous sagacity has not led him astray. Of course, he was always totally confident (or, cough, oblivious), so it’s not so much a victory as a quiet moment of awe at the existence of the supernatural: mumblecore transcendance.

Perhaps the most admirable quality of mumblecore filmmaking is the total denial of pretense. Perhaps it feels like the filmmakers have never so much as picked up a novel because, well, they haven’t, or rather, the notion of “classical” anything or “formalism” has never resounded. A mistrust of authority?; “History may say Great, but I will form my own opinions.” Essentially hippie/hipster thinking, not without merit. Mumblecore mentality involves forging as much of an original path as possible and is highly intuitive. Frankly, I’m the last person who should be talking about it. But these are filmmakers of my generation, and I may end up working with one or two before I’m through. Now, that said: it’s dispiriting to see the Duplass brothers at work. The barest semblance of a narrative functions as story, these men somehow convinced they can write worth a remote damn. You get the impression they only know television, all input, all inspiration stemming from here, where standards are incalculably lower than history’s progression of narrative fiction (in fact, I’d say mumblecore is not interested in history, which makes me quite dismissive of mumblecore). 83 minutes of limp “realism” is somehow marketed to the masses. Profit is inevitable as it’s plainly evident that the film was made for nothing – the only costs are marketing, really, and a big check for Susan. Did I mention this film’s screening didn’t begin until the audience reached under each theater seat to retrieve a gift certificate from Hooters?

I knew before endeavoring into this review that my main hurdle would be avoiding a universe-ending bang of denial and criticism, and simply talking about what works and what doesn’t. What works? Well, you can tell that certain scenes were backlit. There was a wardrobe supervisor who fulfilled some basic duties. There’s a technique I can only call the “unmotivated abrupt zoom” which is used in almost every single shot in the film. It’s very odd to watch on a huge screen a film that is comprised largely of shaky close-ups, more evidence that BoobTubian is the only language spoken here. Actor preparation? Something less than extensive, these men could’ve walked onto their “sets” five minutes prior; I guess it’s really just a matter of already liking Segel and Helms and giving them opportunities to riff. It doesn’t get the viewer worked up, so if you’ve had a terribly stressful day and want a film which will allow you to relax, well, here you are. For less money you could sit on a park bench, get some fresh air and natural light, and clear you head – in fact, you could do that for free. And see where the wind takes you! I know Jeff would approve.

So Jeff, Who Lives at Home might make sense if the Duplass Brothers were putting out a dozen films a year, were nonstop racehorses of pure realism. Instead they are presented more as potheads who, like, find things kinda fascinating, man. To give an audience less than it can expect on network television… if there is a crime being committed, it is with the marketing (and it is less than surprising that Jason Reitman produced). Thanks largely to the caprice and distraction of materialism, it’s become hard work to remain excited about film; quality has become an esoteric niche. It was inevitable after the advent of video production, market saturation, etc. It happened with the printing press, with pornography, video games, etc. Power has been given to the masses, and it means we’ll all have to work harder. Much, much, much harder.

written by David Ashley

STARRING Shlomo Bar Aba, Lior Ashkenazi, Alisa Rosen, Alma Zak, Daniel Markovich, Micah Lewesohn, Yuval Scharf, Nevo Kimchi
WRITTEN BY Joseph Cedar
PRODUCED BY David Mandil, Moshe Edery,Leon Edery
DIRECTED BY Joseph Cedar

SHOT BY Yaron Scharf
EDITED BY Einat Glaser Zarhin
MUSIC BY Amit Poznansky
DISTRIBUTED BY Sony Pictures Classics

Screened 2012-03-08

Father and son Eliezer and Uriel Shkolnik are card-carrying academia members and Talmud devotees, both employed as professors at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem. Eliezer is a stubborn, morose old sod whose unwillingness to compromise is the dormant envy of his son, even if the man is shunned by the community which has so generously lauded Uriel. Despite not seeming to care about the opinions of others, Eliezer has banked a lifetime’s worth of emotional chips on the receipt of the Israel Prize (he is 0 for 20 in this arena) which he would earn for his life’s work of a passionate, esoteric translation of the Jerusalem Tamlud, one for which he has never been earned more credit than that which fits into marginalia. The hammer falls when the Israel Prize committee meets with Uriel to explain that he has won the Israel Prize, but that through a most unfortunate bureaucratic snafu, Uriel’s father is under the impression that the prize will be coming to him. Oopsie! As you can imagine, Uriel is reluctant to give this news to his father, convinced the shock would destroy him, a fear in which he is unfortunately justified. Uriel examines his motives and hangups while dancing the dance of the damned with daddy.

I feel like it would be improper to criticize the film for not feeling consistent (which it absolutely is not), but certain tonal disparities made the product feel quite irreverent. At times featuring extended, quiet scenes of drama (some of which are perfectly passable), at times quirkily laying on the over-produced, utterly bombastic indy comedy scoring, at times quickly cutting through various visual minutiae, and including cute digital presentations which are at odds with anything serious, let alone that which allegedly drives these characters: spirituality. We’re asked to sympathize with these men whose priorities seem quite far out of whack and certainly not ascetic. As a straight farce, there could’ve been something here.. I find myself preferring the Coen Bros’s A Serious Man. All I can say is if your sense of proportion is primarily defined by the public praise or admonishment of your equally academic peers, yours will likely be a painful fate indeed. And here it took the Best Screenplay Award at last year’s Cannes Film Festival (there’s irony here, I’m sure) and a nomination for Best Foreign Film at the bloated Academy Awards. Lost to Iran’s A Separation, and justly so.

written by David Ashley

Best Picture
There’s not showing any clips from Tree of Life… And… it’s… no surprise. I love how during Hazanavicius’s speech, Durjardin is playing with the dog.

Best Actress
Very very kind words from classy Firth. He even brought Streep to tears. HA! Wow. I voted for Davis just because of the politics. But I must say this is very nice, clearly a huge surprise. Yeah. This is nice.

Best Actor
Not a surprise. Yet another awkward speech by a foreigner, and a man without as much to say as we’d have wanted. There’s irony in that, you see?

Obituaries
Always painful. Always painful. Gazzara and Falk in the same year… jesus. Your guess is as good as mine as to why Steve Jobs was included in this list.

Best Director
There’s no discussion, that it should be Malick, and that will not happen. It will be Hazanavicius. And it is. Hazanavicius

Short Films Awards
Thank a lot, ladies. I got Saving Face, and ONLY because I read about it online. One of out of three!

Best Original Screenplay
Damn RIGHT its Allen. And Midnight in Paris is a better picture than the Artist, but it will not win…

Best Adapted Screenplay
What a babe. With a lot of makeup. No surprises here.

Best Original Song
Didn’t see the film.

Best Original Score
Awkward speech for the perfunctory awarding.

Best Supporting Actor
Jonah’s clip was absolutely undemonstrable of his nomination, but then we didn’t have much to go on. Very bizarre to see Nolte present at all, and he looks it. Plummer! Color me surprised. Heh, mildly awkward speech from Plummer

Visual Effects
Omg. I knew Hugo would win every technical award… I really blew this one…

Animated Feature
Chris Rock – keepin’ it real. Thank you

Documentary Feature
Extensive and indulgent Downey, which is actually quite welcome. UNDEFEATED BABY YEEEEEAH. Only knew about that cause I read other blogs. Until then I’d never heard of it.

Cirque de Soleil
For the kids.

Sound Editing and Mixing
Six so far. Got both Hugos but I still don’t have enough!! I SUCK!

Film Editing
OMG.

Best Supporting Actress
Spencer. Oh yeah. There’s a moment the Academy will be proud of for a long time to come. It meant so much to her. Probably good that she won.
Heh – Crystal makes a good black joke.

Foreign Language Film
Ha. Sandra speaking German-Mandarin was actually pretty funny. I’ll be shocked if it’s not A Separation… and it is. Big shit! Farhadi clearly didn’t want to eff this up.

Makeup
I voted for Potter, actually, just cause I think people will be upset if Potter doesn’t get something, and this is what they’d be willing to condescend to award… Iron Lady! Rats.

Costume Design
Two for three!

I may not agree with many of the clips chosen, but I can’t fault a segment designed to remind audiences why theaters are more important than iPads.

Art Direction
OK. I’m one for two.

Cinematography
Shit. I knew Hugo would get all the technical awards, and I took a genuine risk by putting my chips on Lubezki.

19:36
The Academy is clearly not interested in taking risks with their hosts… after last year. Crystal’s opening monologue is utterly limp. It’s another generation… things just aren’t the same. Yikes.

Commercial
John Carter trailer. Jesus, Mark Strong will never not play a villain again.

19:11
Clooney. Mr. Hollywood. With quite the tall babe at his side. All that pressure to be continuously clever. Pitt’s a class act. Appreciative and natural against Clooney’s would-be-Cary-Grant smug shitheel.

18:54
Zach Galifanakis described as “legendary” somehow. He looks like Tom Selleck.

18:52
Ha – the reporter to Nolte, “Great performance in Warrior, which I actually watched last night.” Classy. Nolte incapable of making conversation with her – on drugs?

Commercial
Hey, Portman, Gainsbourg and Birkin… Sex indeed.

18:45
Jean’s shining moment. He doesn’t have anything really unique to say… makes me feel like he will not win best actor after all. I wonder.

18:36
Forcing myself to say something. Just got through with the “Mominees” pre-game segment. I guess the main purpose of the pre-game is for the fashion

2012-01-24
The nominations are in, and… OK… Alright. I see we’re just joking around here.

As one ages and learns more about Hollywood, it becomes evident that artistic expression takes a second place to technical achievement. This makes much sense, knowing how many technicians Hollywood employs, and this is the awards ceremony dedicated to, let’s say, “blue collar art.”

All listings below are ranked in the order in which I think awards should be given. Separations between entries denote films I have not yet seen. And the films that I think will win the Oscars are italicized.

Best Picture
The Tree of Life
Midnight in Paris
The Descendants
Moneyball
War Horse
The Help
The Artist
Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close

Hugo

Best Actress
Rooney Mara, The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo
Meryl Streep, The Iron Lady
Glenn Close, Albert Nobbs
Viola Davis, The Help

Michelle Williams, My Week With Marilyn

Best Actor
Gary Oldman, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy
Jean Dujardin, The Artist<
Brad Pitt, Moneyball
George Clooney, The Descendants
Demian Bichir, A Better Life

Supporting Actress
Janet McTeer, Albert Nobbs
Jessica Chastain, The Help
Berenice Bejo, The Artist
Octavia Spencer, The Help
Melissa McCarthy, Bridesmaids

Supporting Actor
Nick Nolte, Warrior
Christopher Plummer, Beginners
Max von Sydow, Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close
Jonah Hill, Moneyball

Kenneth Branagh, My Week With Marilyn

Best Director
Terrence Malick, The Tree of Life
Woody Allen, Midnight in Paris
Alexander Payne, The Descendants
Michel Hazanivicus, The Artist

Martin Scorsese, Hugo

Best Original Screenplay
J.C. Chandor, Margin Call
Woody Allen, Midnight in Paris
Asghar Farhadi, A Separation
Michel Hazanivicius, The Artist
Kristen Wiig and Annie Mumulo, Bridesmaids

Best Adapted Screenplay
Bridget O’Connor and Peter Straughan, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy
Steven Zaillian, Aaron Sorkin and Stan Chervin, Moneyball
George Clooney, Beau Willimon and Grant Heslov, The Ides of March
Alexander Payne, Nat Faxon and Jim Rash, The Descendants

John Logan, Hugo

Best Foreign Feature
A Separation
Footnote

Bullhead
In Darkness
Monsieur Lazhar

Best Animated Feature

A Cat in Paris
Chico & Rita
Kung Fu Panda 2
Puss in Boots
Rango

Art Direction
Midnight in Paris
War Horse
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2
The Artist

Hugo

Cinematography
The Tree of Life
The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo
War Horse
The Artist

Hugo

Costume Design
Jane Eyre
The Artist

Hugo
W.E.
Anonymous

Documentary Feature
Paradise Lost 3: Purgatory
If a Tree Falls: A Story of the Earth Liberation Front
Hell and Back Again

Pina
Undefeated

Documentary Short Subject

The Barber of Birmingham: Foot Soldier of the Civil Rights Movement
God Is the Bigger Elvis
Incident in New Baghdad
Saving Face
The Tsunami and the Cherry Blossom

Film Editing
Kirk Baxter and Angus Wall, The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo
Christopher Tellefsen, Moneyball
Kevin Tent, The Descendants
Anne-Sophie Bion and Michel Hazanavicius, The Artist

Thelma Schoonmaker, Hugo

Makeup
Edouard F. Henriques, Gregory Funk and Yolanda Toussieng, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2
Mark Coulier and J. Roy Helland, The Iron Lady
Martial Corneville, Lynn Johnston and Matthew W. Mungle, Albert Nobbs

Music (Original Score)
Alberto Iglesias, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy
John Williams, War Horse
Ludovic Bource, The Artist

John Williams, The Adventures of Tintin
Howard Shore, Hugo

Music (Original Song)

“Man or Muppet” from The Muppets, Bret McKenzie
“Real in Rio” from Rio, Sergio Mendes, Carlinhos Brown and Siedah Garrett

Sound Editing
The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo
War Horse
Transformers: Dark Side of the Moon
Drive

Hugo

Sound Mixing
The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo
War Horse
Monyeball
Transformers: Dark Side of the Moon

Hugo

Visual Effects
Transformers: Dark Side of the Moon
Rise of the Planet of the Apes
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2

Hugo
Real Steel

Short Film (Animated)

Dimanche/Sunday
The Fantastic Flying Books of Mr. Morris Lessmore
La Luna
A Morning Stroll
Wild Life

Short Film (Live Action)

Pentecost
Raju
The Shore
Time Freak
Tuba Atlantic

02-12
Just started: White
Off to a good start.I like the cut of his jib.It is hard to imagine things getting worse for Mr. Karol than they are at the moment.…”Being the Curious Misadventures of Mr. Karol Karol, The Fool.”

02-11
Currently watching: The Kid With a Bike
Oh hell. The film makes me feel irresponsible for not devoting myself to the lowest echelons of humanity, as I’m sure the Dardennes wouldn’t be displeased to hear.

02-07
Currently watching: The Rum Diary
Too glossy, too much money put into a Thompson story – and money never ever improves art. Would’ve benefited from no funding whatsoever. Altogether it feels totally superfluous, and Depp isn’t being given nearly enough to do.Funny caricature.Unfunny caricature.It’s Robinson’s adaptation, I’m sorry to say. He’s giving too much attention to the minutiae of Thompson’s talent – missing the forest for the trees. Like I’m doing by writing about it.

02-05
Currently watching: Sherlock: The Blind Banker
Less than five minutes and I see this week we’ll be swept away to Epcot Center without leaving our posh London flats. What did I say about taking on more intelligent writers?

Currently watching: Sherlock: A Study in Pink (BBC)
Do not at all care for the digitally imposed titles, which god-willing will be phased out, though I don’t expect it. It’s impossible not to get caught up in Cumberbatch’s arrogant delectation, I just wish the show’s creators weren’t so cute about it. First ep. My hopes are high that season 2 will be superb. And you’re damn right it was smart to make Sherlock obsessively tied to his cell phone and the eternal network of information.Very dubious about the Moriarty casting, and the flamboyance with which they’re portraying him. Don’t have much faith in the show’s creators altogether, actually, who were clearly aroused by 2009′s Holmes film and are spinning out their few gimmicks here unimpressively. The show has potential but needs more skill and intelligence at the top – so far they’re too concerned with homage (a hole all those in The Biz seem willing to dive into) and not enough with topicality. Now a man like Holmes would represent much just how powerful a single individual can be with the world’s information at his fast fast fast fingertips. And I’m already thinking that a potential supervillain is one who would use such power evilly. Sounds like fun.Oh there I go, being harsh again.So far they’re taking every opportunity to copy Ritchie’s Holmes by making a gag out of the perverse and awkward intimacy between Master and Student, or Narcissist and Self-Hater. It’s funny, but it’s patently purloined. Art is all about who you steal from, and the people who make television probably only watch films and never read, so it’s no surprise that any quality to be found on television is a result of prior cinematic invention. Fictional TV is a testing ground, a practice range, or a venue for regurgitation… but is never better than cinema. For good reason.Whoops! They got me. That wasn’t Moriarty but Mycroft. Thank heaven.

02-04
Re-watching: The Pianist
It’s funny, with this one. The first time I saw it I felt strangely unimpressed; “Another holocaust drama.” But when I watched it again I was incredibly moved, and again, even moreso. Polanski’s masterful mise-en-scene and ever modest, story-respecting direction achieve more than the pages on a script ever can. Now I cannot understand how I could’ve been “unimpressed.”

02-03
Currently watching: Road to Nowhere
First Hellman. Sue me. Jesus, he’s 79. Lightly jazzed.It’s always awkward to see an average script taken utterly seriously by an aged director. We’ve seen it before. Here Shannyn is seen childishly flapping her gums.This literally feels like it’s taking place in a vacuum. There is no rhythm. This is the result of an aged man’s infinite patience revealing the utterly jejune writing.I never thought I’d say it, but this is utter pretentious horseshit. This girl feels “like a just-cried tear.”

02-02
Currently watching: If A Tree Falls: A Story of the Earth Liberation Front
More Oscar investigations…
Eco-terrorists and Oregon. I’ll be back with an opinion later. Too early now.It’s rather disgusting when documentaries play exciting music to make the audience feel excited – it’s a transparent bias and secondhand journalism (or worse). The rationalization of terrorism?The faces of fanaticism.It’s sad I suppose but I find myself having little sympathy. Yeah, nobody was killed, yeah, real terrorists are more evil. But this man knew what he was doing was wrong, knew the risks, knew he’d face prison time… and sometimes young people make mistakes that leave permanent scars. He knew what he was doing, and he did. He didn’t have to. He used fear and terror as weapons and disturbed the lives of many people. So he has to face some prison time.

02-01
Currently watching: Terri
This is good, because we don’t have enough cute films about high school in America. Never thought I’d say it, but thank heaven for John C. Reilly. I can’t get enough of him and this would be UNWATCHABLE (say it aloud) without him.I’m being harsh, it’s actually a bit charming and clever. But it has the sappy sensitive score. I’d like to lynch 90% of the composers out there – no, I’ll censor that thought. But let’s be goddamn fucking honest: scoring ruins films as often as, or more than, it enhances the experience of narrative drama. Everybody’s gotta be cute.This scene was particularly difficult to watch. Reilly’s been off-camera for WAY too long, where is he?!Heh. Excellent.Intimacy is scary. Wysocki’s a nice kid, well cast.

Just finished: War Horse
Jesus Christ. Spielberg doesn’t exactly do subtle.