The 30 Day Movie Challenge: Days #5, 6, and 7

I've been falling behind and getting off schedule with the 30 Day Movie Challenge, and unfortunately it's likely to continue. So while I'd love to give all three of these films fuller write-ups, here's a condensed look at Days 5-7:

Day #5: Favorite Action Movie

Like many of these prompts, I had to do some thinking with this one. I came down to two veeeeery different films, one much more serious in nature than the other. Yet as much as I love Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, my pick goes to something on the lighter side: Gore Verbinski's Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl (2003).

Johnny Depp and Jack Sparrow take up most of the time whenever people talk about this movie, and rightfully so. Depp's loopy spin on pirates is the key to the film's success. However, as much as Pirates succeeds thanks to its characters and wonderful sense of humor, it's equally successful as a legitimately enjoyable action-adventure piece. Black Pearl works best of the original Pirates trilogy because of 1) the variety of action and 2) the more even spread of action throughout the story. Dead Man's Chest (2006) and At World's End (2007) are filled with relatively little action until their bloated finales. Black Pearl, by contrast, has action and adventure perfectly spaced throughout its run time. From Jack Sparrow's opening zip-line maneuver and his first fight with Will Turner, to the ship battle in the middle, the action is diverse, well-staged, and engaging.

Sparrow's fight with Will Turner in particular is a blast to watch, as the two chase each other around turning gears, and eventually catapult themselves up to the beams of a warehouse's rafters. The Chaplin-esque nature of scenes like this heighten the film's sense of fun, and fights never become dull, soulless scenes of clashing metal and big explosions (I'm looking at you, Michael Bay). Bolstered by colorful characters, solid direction, a very funny script, and Hans Zimmer's classic score, Curse of the Black Pearl is a true delight of a movie that makes up for its lack of realism with engaging atmosphere and execution.

Day #6: Favorite Horror Movie

Horror has never really been a favorite genre of mine. I really hate movies that indulge in senseless blood and gore. Movies with scary, jump-worthy trailers usually become dull once seen in their full form (take the 2003 Texas Chainsaw Massacre, for example). And that's what makes today's entry so notable. When I first saw the trailer, I was only 11, and a certain jump moment scared the hell out of me, and I swore I'd never see the film. Years later, after discovering the film's strong connection with both audiences and critics, I decided to finally give it ago, and it's been my favorite horror movie (albeit from a limited selection) ever since: Danny Boyle's 28 Days Later...(2002)

Many are quick to claim that some of the specific's of Boyle's film aren't actually original (zombies that can sprint), or that Boyle's creatures aren't even zombies, because they're merely infected with a disease (the appropriately named Rage Virus). Whatever the gripes, however, it's hard to deny that Boyle and crew do a phenomenal job of taking the zombie genre and giving it a healthy dose of modernism.

Unlike certain movies that make you want to cover your eyes for long stretches, 28 Days actually held me wide-eyed with fear. Even when things get bloody, Boyle never goes out of his way, and violence isn't shoe-horned in just to kill people off. Instead, it becomes a tale of survival, with long zombie-free stretches of characters trying to survive or simply traveling.

It's this, above all else, that helps 28 Days achieve the terrifying heights that it does. Boyle actually calms down his frenetic style, and only brings it out when necessary, and the result is as arresting as it is scary. By taking a tired genre and injecting it with his own style, Boyle was able to make the zombie genre fresh, genuinely scary, all while making a legitimately strong film that can appeal to more than just the traditional zombie fan-base.

Day #7: Favorite Animated Film

I'm going to cut straight to point here: my pick isn't a Pixar film *gasp*. In fact, it predates Pixar's first release by two years (not exactly a large gap, but still...). The film in question is none other than Tim Burton's The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993).

Now, first we ought to clear something up. Tim Burton didn't actually direct Nightmare, Henry Sellick did. However, given Burton's obvious presence in creating the film's story, world, and characters, I like to consider this film an example where a producer was the true auteur, and not the director (usually the go to for that controversial label). Regardless of who deserves more credit, however, one of the things I love about Nightmare was how strange and subversive it is. Despite its PG rating and quirky animation, the Halloween world is filled with plenty of gruesome creatures, including, to quote Danny Elfman's lyrics, "the clown with the tear-away face." Doesn't exactly scream "TAKE THE KIDS!", does it?

Regardless, despite the simplicity of the story, Nightmare succeeds on just about every level. The animated, while slightly stiff-looking almost 20 years later, is still vibrant and even enchanting. As a work of design, it ranks of there with the greatest art direction of all time. Character design in particular is stunning, never feeling weird just for the sake of it. Driving it all along is constant Burton collaborator Danny Elfman's score and songs, and perfect mix of quirk, charm, and menace. Pixar may win all of the accolades, but Burton and Sellick's masterpiece deserves credit for sticking to a very bold, and very strange concept all the way through.

The 30 Day Movie Challenge: Days #3+4

One too many distractions yesterday left me without time to complete an entry for yesterday. So, to play a little catch up, here's days 3 and 4 of the challenge.

Day #3: Favorite Comedy

Now this was a tough one. I have nothing against comedies, but some of the ones that make me laugh the most do so at the expense of plot and character development. It's a real challenge to find a film that really makes me laugh yet also is admirable from other perspectives. And that's why my pick for my favorite comedy comes down to Armando Iannucci's In the Loop (2009).

Essentially doing to the Iraq War what Dr. Strangelove did to the Cold War, Iannucci's ensemble satire is something of a comedic masterwork for many reasons. First and foremost is its phenomenal script, written by four writers and adapted from the UK sitcom The Thick of It. In addition to the cutting satire, the script's combination of swearing, word play, awkward pauses, and pop culture references comes together to create a spectacularly funny film. Every time I've seen it (which is a lot), there's some new line I discover, usually because I was too busy laughing at something else on a previous viewing. A lesser film might throw as many attempted jokes and funny lines at you, but In the Loop is remarkable because the vast majority of them work (and there's certainly not a flat joke among the bunch).Delivering the hysterical script is one of the most finely tuned ensembles in recent memory, a considerable achievement considering the size of the cast. Everyone delivers their lines to perfection, although standout honors have to go to Peter Capaldi as perpetually angry Malcolm Tucker, and Mimi Kennedy as an anti-war government official. Capaldi in particular shines throughout his constant anger, and gets to deliver many of the film's greatest lines. It's a real tour-de-force, not something that can often be said of comedic performances, and a key scene in the United Nations meditation room actually gives the character the tiniest bit of vulnerability, only making Capaldi's work even more impressive.And like Capaldi's work, the film never once slows down or starts to lose its comedic staying power. Granted, the last 20 minutes or so become less reference-heavy (and almost thriller-lite in intensity), but this only helps the film's impact become even greater. It may be built mostly for rapid-fire laughs, but In the Loop works equally well as a goofy satire of behind-the-scenes political shenanigans. It's also the perfect modern companion piece to Kubrick's masterful Cold War satire, and I hope that Iannucci's less-seen film will one day be held in equal regard. It certainly deserves it.

Day #4: Favorite Drama

Continuing my love of films about the creative process comes my pick for favorite drama. And while this is a film that certainly has its funny moments, and is far from being truly heavy in nature, it's still a compelling work. That film is Milos Forman's Amadeus (1984).

It's often been criticized for playing with history, although I think the accusations are rubbish. Not that I think the accusations are false; I know that they have validity. But this is a movie, after all, not a documentary. And what Peter Shaffer's script (adapted from his own play) may lack in historical accuracy, it makes up for it with superbly executed story telling. At 2 hrs and 40 minutes, Amadeus remains lively and enjoyable the whole way through, time and time again. Like 8 1/2, part of its success comes from looking at something very personal (artistic creation) on a bigger, grander scale. As a production, it's gorgeous to look at, and regardless of what advances have been made in the 27 years since its release, its beauty remains undiminished. Mozart and Salieri's world comes richly to life, big and beautiful enough to match the large personalities and egos that populate it.Yet while Mozart's (obviously incredible) music gets the most play time, its his rival who runs away with the show. As the jealous Salieri, F. Murray Abraham gives one of the all-time great leading performances, and deservedly picked up Best Actor at the Oscars. He communicates Salieri's combination of admiration and bitter envy on many levels, my favorite of which comes when he sarcastically talks back to a crucifix/God for giving him the exact opposite of what he prayed for: "Grazie, Signore!" But the film also deserves credit for giving both men equal treatment. Mozart (Tom Hulce) is certainly fleshed out as well, and the way Salieri uses his relationship with his father to literally haunt him is one of the film's best subplots. We get to see both of these characters in their personal and private lives, which only serves to make the story even richer. Amadeus works because it works as the cinematic equivalent of one of Mozart's compositions: big, brash, and emotional, but also wildly artistic and beautifully composed.

The 30 Day Movie Challenge: Day #2

Day #2: Least Favorite Film

Unlike the first entry in this series, picking a "least favorite" film was surprisingly more difficult. The problem with bad movies is that some of them are so enjoyably awful. I consider The Room to be one of the worst films I've ever seen, not only for its supreme technical incompetence, but also for its horrendous directing/writing/acting/everything. That said, it's a movie that I will willing watch, because it's hysterically funny in its awfulness. The same goes for Showgirls, which is about 100 times more technically accomplished and structured, but so insanely dumb and ridiculous that it's a scream (and I refuse to believe that it's a misunderstood and brilliant satire; it's just bad). In making my choice for my least favorite, I had to pick a movie that I didn't just think was bad; it had to be un-enjoyably bad. Even to the point of making me angry. And that's exactly what this movie does: Clark Gregg's Choke (2008).I've only seen the film once, in theaters upon release, and there's a reason I've never gone back. I've certainly seen "worse" films, but none made me as angry as this one. Granted, there's a few funny spots here and there, and the cast tries, but overall? Garbage. The screenplay moves around haphazardly and does a hideous job of creating the main story: a sex addict pays for his mother's hospital bills by preying on the sympathies of people who save him from choking. It's a twisted set up for sure, but considering the source material was written by Chuck Palahniuk (Fight Club), I remember being excited.

Unfortunately, Gregg's adaptation is a muddled, sleazy bore. The way the choking incidents are woven into the film is so unskilled, and that particular point of the story starts to feel like an afterthought. Worse are the scenes set in strip club, which made for two funny bits in the trailer, yet feel horribly out of place and even random in the context of the movie. And by the time it reaches its end, it's become so convinced that it's a sharp, subversive satire that the ending only becomes more infuriatingly juvenile. The worst film ever made? Probably not by a long shot, but it's easily the one that jumps to mind when I think of films that are absolutely worthless.

The 30 Day Movie Challenge: Day #1

Recently on Facebook, a "30 Day Movie Challenge" was created. It's not exactly a challenge (no trivia, no quizzes, etc...), but it simply gives a simple prompt regarding films to answer. I've decided to participate on Facebook, but figured that I could also blog the challenge and write something more in depth. After all, people are only willing to read so much in a status message, so why not use this blog to document my picks for each day's prompt? Without further delay, here's my (extended) answer to my pick for the first prompt:

Day 1: Favorite Film

They really didn't waste any time in jumping to the big one, did they? Well, for a while I used to go nuts over this question. I could never decide on just one, and preferred to answer that I had a handful of favorites that I didn't want to choose among. Granted, I still have said handful of favorites, although it changes from time to time depending on what amazing movies I discover on DVD and in theaters. However, for the past few years, one film has consistently stuck with me among my top favorites just a little more than the rest, and it's none other than Federico Fellini's 8 1/2 (1963).Considered Fellini's full blown move away from Italian Neorealism and into more abstract, dream-like films (he became hugely influenced by Carl Jung), the film tells the story of Guido Anselmi (Marcello Mastroianni), a creatively stunted film director pulled from all directions by the myriad women in his life. Among them are his wife (Anouk Aimee), his mistress (Sandra Milo), his star/muse (Claudia Cardinale), and the whore from his youth (Eddra Gale). Increasingly frustrated by his inability to finalize his ideas for his film as a shoot date approaches, he begins to retreat into dreams, fantasies, and memories, all while his life grows more chaotic.

I have something of a soft spot for movies about the creative process, but nothing really prepared me for what I was going to get when I first watched 8 1/2. From its phenomenal photography, surreal images, delightful score, and wonderful energy, I love it every time I see it, and I see something new each time. Picking a favorite scene is (almost) impossible for me. There's the eerie opening, in which Guido finds himself stuck in traffic where everyone is as still as a mannequin. Or there's Guido's visit with the cardinal, where he descends into the lower level of a spa with people being sorted as if they're entering a level of Dante's Inferno. And the way Fellini takes us through these scenes, real or fantastical (or both) is nothing short of a joy (even if the story has some bleak under tones) to watch each time. Fellini had a connection to the circus in his youth, and that colorful playfulness is on full display here as he jumps between fantasy and reality. The film's ending, which I'll touch on later, encompasses this sublimely, acting as a sort of grand curtain call for all of Fellini's players.

Yet as much as it's a marvel of direction and production, it also benefits from the remarkable work from its cast. Mastroianni, Fellini's favorite self-substitute, does fine work at a director coming apart at the seams. However, the standouts from the cast come from the ladies. As Guido's long-suffering wife Luisa, Anouk Aimee nails the complex emotions of a woman torn between the parts of her husband she loves and hates. Her reactions during the screen-test scene are the best bits of acting in the entire film, beautifully executed without ever feeling the need to be melodramatic. The other distinction among the cast goes to Eddra Gale as La Saraghina. Gale, an American opera singer, hardly speaks two words in the film, but her impact is hard to forget. As the local whore who lives on the beach, her "seduction" of young Guido and his friends is beguiling, sinister, and hilarious all at once, and it's still my favorite scene, viewing after viewing. Here's the scene (although it's bound to be lacking without the rest of the film around it):

In summary, I basically adore 8 1/2. It's my favorite of Fellini's work (although I'm still making my way through his filmography), because of how the elements of Fellini's Neorealist past and the art films of his future come together. And yet it's so much more than a creative turning point. It's one of the clearest examples of a film as the expression of an individual's vision, in addition to being technically flawless. It's the sort of film where every department is strong, from writing, to acting, to cinematography, to score. That it ends with a giant curtain call (as previously said) for the film's cast seems entirely appropriate. For 8 1/2, Fellini became a ring master, and while the contributions of his cast and crew were immense, they were all working in service of a master at the height of his artistic prowess. And as far as movies about making movies go, I have yet to find anything that entertains, delights, and enthralls me more.

Bad timing...

So apparently the past two and a half weeks were simply overloaded with cinema related goodness, all of which I had to wait until now to figure out about (I'm sure there's still some significant new casting news/trailer/etc... I haven't seen yet), because trying to translate those articles in German was giving me a headache. Since there's too much to cover in individual posts since it would be old news anyway), I'll just throw in a few quick thoughts about the most eye-catching things that appeared while I was in Germany:

The Miral trailer: A bit uneven (it should be shorter), but very interesting, though I'm going to have a hard time adjusting to see Hiam Abbass in that haircut. Schnabel's background as a painter is still evident in the color scheme (the shades of blue are beautiful), albeit in a more subdued way than in The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, and it will be interesting to see how he handles this more-or-less two-part story (the first half of which would be oriented around Abbass, the second around Freida Pinto's titular character). The film will also offer a chance to see if the stunning Pinto can really act, or if she should stick to modeling.

The complete line-up for the Venice Film Festival: Black Swan and Machete are confirmed for a double-bill opening (appropriate considering Machete's origins in the Tarantino/Rodriguez collaboration Grindhouse), and Julie Taymor's The Tempest will finally see the light of day as the closing screening. Not making it to the festival? Tree of Life (oh, come ON already), and Rabbit Hole, which will thankfully make it into Toronto. I'd hope there aren't behind-the-scenes troubles; Abel Korzeniowski has been replaced as the film's score composer, which I'm assuming means whatever he came up with didn't fit with Mitchell's vision. Let's just hope the delay doesn't have to do with overall quality, though. A certain tall, Australian actress could really use a widely-acclaimed film on her resume right about now...

The trailer for Zack Snyder's Sucker Punch: is friggin' insane. Snyder's current film, the gorgeous-looking The Legend of the Guardians, hasn't even hit theaters yet, but that hasn't stopped the flashy director of 300 from working on another project. The action looks, well, extreme, which could either be really cool or headache-inducing. However, I love the idea of Abbie Cornish as an ass-kicking (supporting) heroine. She should have plenty of built-up rage after that Bright Star Best Actress snub.

The first round of confirmed films at the Toronto Film Festival: In addition to lots of big names (including big Cannes titles like Biutiful), this year's TIFF will also launch Guillaume Canet's Little White Lies starring Marion Cotillard along with Robert Redford's Lincoln assassination (sort of) flick The Conspirator and John Madden's The Debt. Festival circuit ubiquity Blue Valentine will also appear, along with a slew of foreign films, with a handful of more commercial titles, like Emma Stone vehicle Easy A.

The trailer for The Town: Ben Affleck's second directorial effort after the excellent Gone Baby Gone (2007) is set in the heart of Boston's criminal district, and though it seems plenty gritty, this first glimpse at the film does showcase a more "commercial" looking film, with gunshots, car chases, and exploding cars. The real hook here for me, however, is the cast, led by Jon Hamm, Affleck, and burgeoning talents Jeremy Renner and Rebecca Hall, both of whom are starting to appear more regularly in more prominent film roles (if you can see Please Give in theaters, do so, if only for the lovely work from Hall and her co-stars), which is a very good thing.

Everything I missed: Here I don't mean news, I mean the reason for this blog in the first place: movies. I'm nearly three weeks late to the Inception debate, and I need to run out and see Cyrus and The Kids Are All Right and hope that they don't randomly vanish from the art house/indie theaters in Houston soon (reassuringly, Cyrus was given a slot at at the mainstream theater near my house, which is a good sign). The much delayed and painfully released Agora is also near(ish) me, and only in one theater, so I'll need to catch that one soon as well. I'm also behind on TV, and have missed at least two episodes of True Blood, Entourage, and of all things, the impressively reviewed start to Mad Men's fourth season (and apparently Dexter season 5 has a trailer out somewhere...GAH).

Lastly: The first images from Aronofsky's ballet mystery Black Swan emerged. You can see the rest of them here (love that full-body shot of Portman in costume), but the image that caught my eye was the one below. Frankly, I hope Mr. Rachel Weisz f-ing loses his mind with this project, involving a ballerina and her (imaginary?) rival.

What I watched this week: July 5-11

Repulsion (1965) dir. Roman Polanski:

Polanski's first English-language film may not be the director's shining moment as far as dialogue goes, but the second half of the film demonstrates brilliantly that fear is universal. Catherine Deneuve stars as a young woman left to watch her sister's apartment while she and her boyfriend go on a vacation. While on her own, she experiences increasingly disturbing dreams that take an increasingly dark turn. After a sluggish, even tedious first half or so (did the calm before the storm need to be that long?), the film really takes off as Carole's mental state begins to deteriorate. The slightly jazzy score, often clashing with the images on screen, never outstays its welcome, always cutting off right when it starts to feel overdone. Deneuve, in a role that is silent for large stretches, turns in dazzling work, emoting almost purely through her eyes as a woman quite past the verge of a nervous breakdown. Enhanced by great in-camera effects (walls are used to fantastic effect), subtle but effective art direction, and excellent cinematography. While Polanski's film could easily be dissected in trying to figure out what makes Carole snap (I'm sure more than a few writers have used her virginity as a spring board for their theses), it also works strictly as a surface-only thriller: watch a young woman's downward spiral into madness. Though it may not be everyone's cup of tea, it's certainly an unsettling film with some images that you'll have a difficult time forgetting.

Grade: B+

The Last Picture Show (1971) dir. Peter Bogdanovich:

Essentially a slightly more character-specific, American predecessor to Fellini's Amarcord, Bogdanovich's film is a sparse, bleak, yet very rewarding film. As we see follow a group of soon-to-be-high-school-graduates in Arnene, Texas as they come of age, Bogdanovich (working off of Larry McMurtry's adaptation of his own novel) crafts a methodically paced, understated film that builds. It it the epitome of what "quietly moving" cinema should aspire to; it has enough to make you feel, but never indulges in any jarring moments of blatant heart string-tugging. Performance-wise, there's not a weak link in the group, although I do slightly question Ellen Burstyn's Best Supporting Actress nomination. The same cannot be said for her co-star, Cloris Leachman, who picked up a well-deserved Oscar for her performance as a conflicted, adulterous house-wife. Just when the film leads you to believe that it's done with her, the end brings Leachman back to powerful effect. Fellow winner Ben Johnson also turns in nice, understated work as the father of a somewhat mentally deficient boy. His monologue when he takes his son and Sonny (Timothy Bottoms) to a nearby like is a thing of magnificent, quiet beauty, much like the film around him.

Grade: A/A-

The Red Balloon (1956) dir. Albert Lamorisse:

A small exercise in charm, Lamorisse's Oscar-winning film (which clocks in at only 34 minutes), is a winning example of how to use less to create more. The plot is simple: a balloon with a life of its own follows a young boy as he walks around Paris. And thankfully, that's all the film really does with the premise. You could speculate all you wanted to about deeper meaning, but the film seems to work best as an innocent (but not naive) fairy tale with a magnificent ending.

Grade: B

What I watched this week: June 14-20

Elevator to the Gallows (1958) dir. Louis Malle: This is my first Malle film, but hopefully it won't be the last. Though at time leaning too heavily on the naiveté and/or stupidity of its characters, Malle's debut is a quietly tense little noir thriller featuring a strong performance from Jeanne Moreau, whose general lack of make-up only adds to the quiet expressiveness of her face, even she spends the first half of the film simply wandering the dreary, dark streets of Paris after dark. Malle makes great use of nighttime photography to help make the expanse of Paris seem much more confining. The film's dramatic high point arrives when Julien (Maurice Ronet) attempts to escape from an inactive elevator; the edits and shots combine to create the film's most overt "thrills." And while I won't spoil the ending, I'll say that it's great, save for one piece of information regarding the extent of punishment, which seems strange considering who did what and so on, but it's not enough to keep me from recommending this tight little noir film from anyone.

Grade: B+

The Man From Elysian Fields (2001) dir. George Hickenlooper: Though its plot centers around a man lured into becoming a high-end male escort, there is a lack of emphasis on sexual exploits. The film's focus is how Byron (Andy Garcia) balances his new job while trying to maintain a connection to his wife (Julianna Marguiles), while simultaneously becoming involved with a wealthy woman (Olivia Williams) and her successful husband (James Coburn). While the story is well told enough, it's hindered by Hickenlooper's flat direction and the often over-eager score, not to mention the overacting from Mr. Coburn. It's these elements, and the route the story takes as it moves toward its conclusion (not to mention a weak sub plot involving Mick Jagger's lover) that leaves it feeling totally pedestrian.

Grade: B-

Moonstruck (1987) dir. Norman Jewison: Romantic comedies aren't the types of films known for aging well, but Norman Jewison's triple-Oscar-winning film (written by "Doubt" playwright John Patrick Shanley) has managed to remain enjoyable 23 years since its release. Bolstered by strong performances (even from Nicholas Cage), and a strong emphasis on family dynamics, the film is still quite charming, and in spots hilarious. Cher in particular is a delight to watch as she transforms from a level-headed woman who knows exactly what she wants into someone who isn't sure of anything, without ever becoming pathetic or grating. In an age when too many romantic comedy (female) leads are portrayed as shrill and selfish, Cher's Loretta reminds us that a woman can be independent and tough while still being likable.

Grade: B

California Suite (1978) dir. Herbert Ross: The problem with vignette films is that it's rare that all of them will be hits, and such is the major hindrance of this Neil Simon adaptation. Though the first two set-ups (Alan Alda and Jane Fonda/Maggie Smith and Michael Caine) are filled with wit (perhaps even too much), and strong performances and use dialogue to chip away the characters' exteriors, the film's second half all but collapses in on itself. Walter Matthau and Elaine May's segment is occaisionally tedious, but for the most part OK. It's in the final sequence, featuring Bill Cosby and Richard Pryor, that everything goes to hell. Cosby and Pryor, two very funny men, are wasted in a scene that goes so far overboard with inflicting stunt gags on its characters (if it can break/hurt someone, it will) that it becomes as exhausting and miserable as the terrible vacation the characters are going through. That said, when it works, sparks fly, but all of the sparks get used up in roughly the film's first half, leaving it with a limp second half; that is, until the brief-but-funny ending.

Grade: B-/C+

Delirious (2006) dir. Tom Dicillo: A strange, occasionally laugh-out-loud funny film about the paparazzi and celebrity that's hindered by half-assed performances from Michael Pitt and Alison Lohman as a homeless guy-turned-paparazzo-turned-star and a pop starlet respectively. Steve Buscemi, god of all weirdness, does a good job with Les, the struggling celeb photographer, but Dicillo's film never delves deep enough into the conflict between the two, or Les' struggle with his career. It also doesn't bring anything new to the table when it comes to observations on our obsession with celebrities, nor does it present anything in a fresh way. It's a typical rags-to-riches Hollywood story with decent acting, and not much else to offer other than wonder what makes Steve Buscemi's features so oddly compelling.

Grade: C+

The cinematic plague of the 21st century gets a life extension

Yes folks, it looks like the final installment of the Twilight series (I refuse to call it a "saga") is being split into two films, a la Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. These books (and their cinematic counterparts)...where to begin with this trash? I've ranted about the books before, and I'm not sure I feel like doing it again. So, if you want a brilliant take down of Meyer's work (specifically "Breaking Dawn"), go HERE, and pray for the writer's sanity, and maybe your own, as you read the jaw-dropping awfulness that is Twilight.

Source: unknown/IMDb forums
Breaking Dawn splits in two
Double saga bookend to be shot back-to-back...
BY Josh Winning Feb 12th 2010 8:08AMFILED UNDER: Movie news
User Comments (1)



In one of the most ironclad business decisions made this year, Summit Entertainment have confirmed that they have given the greenlight to filming the fourth and final Twilight novel, Breaking Dawn.

The hulking 700+ page book will be split into two films (ala Deathly Hallows), which we will be shot back-to-back. Filming is scheduled to begin in October 2010.

Summit are looking at “high end” directors for the project, though no names have been leaked just yet.

Breaking Dawn is the least popular book in the series - author Stephenie Meyer calls it the “Rob effect”, reasoning that fans can’t accept that the series had to come to an end, just as they couldn’t at first accept Pattinson in the role of Edward. Uh, okay. Whatever helps you sleep at night.

Scribe Melissa Rosenberg, who has adapted all of the Twilight films for the screen, is working on this final adap.

Obviously Summit are cranking these out as fast as they possibly can for two reasons: first to capitalise on their immense popularity (though Harry Potter hasn’t suffered from being a decade-spanning film series), and secondly to catch the actors while they’re still young.

David Slade’s third entry in the franchise, Eclipse, opens this June.

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My 2009 Movie Mash-Up

It's not perfect, mostly due to some repeated footage, long pieces of Nine footage, and at least one awkward audio transition, but still, I'm proud of it (and unbelievably thankful that the weird issues in Final Cut Pro were somehow fixed after uploading the file to Youtube). There are a number of films not featured in this montage that I wanted to put in here, either for the entirety (Up), or just for a performance (Julia), but sadly, a down-loadable Quicktime trailer wasn't available. Enjoy...

50 Great Performances: The Women [EDIT] I forgot Naomi Watts!!!

Now that I'm back from out of town, it's time to get back to, well, celebrating the past 10 years (looking ahead is overrated), specifically the performances. I covered the gentlemen last week, so now it's time to move on to the ladies; what a decade they've had. Challenging, unconventional performances made the past 10 years relatively strong for women, even though as a whole they've sadly always struggled to land as many great roles as the menfolk. However, when the women came out to shine, whether in the expensive blockbusters or meager indies, they shone as brightly, if not more brightly, than their male counterparts. They were endearing, heartbreaking, complicated, funny, and a few of them were even action movie badasses. In Nine, Nicole Kidman's Claudia Jennsen tells Guido that she'd, "rather be the man", than play a symbolic muse. Luckily, the following performances (and many others) stand as proof that having two X chromosomes is nothing to sniff at.

**Like the men's list, I've tried to keep performances from 2009 off, seeing as they haven't had time to settle with me. Oh, and this time, there are pictures...LOTS OF THEM!

***EDIT: Somehow I totally forgot one of my favorite performances: Naomi Watts in Mulholland Dr.

Top 50 Female Performances: 2000-2009

• Abigail Breslin, Little Miss Sunshine
• Adriana Barraza, Babel
• Amy Adams, Junebug
• Anne Hathaway, Rachel Getting Married
• Bjork, Dancer in the Dark
• Cate Blanchett, I'm Not There
• Cate Blanchett, Notes on a Scandal
• Cate Blanchett, The Aviator
• Catherine Zeta-Jones, Chicago
  
• Ellen Burstyn, Requiem for a Dream
• Ellen Page, Juno
  
• Felicity Huffman, Transamerica
• Frances McDormand, Almost Famous
• Helena Bonham Carter, Sweeney Todd
• Helen Mirren, The Queen
• Hillary Swank, Million Dollar Baby
• Imelda Staunton, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
• Jane Lynch, the films of Christopher Guest
• Jennifer Connelly, A Beautiful Mind
• Judi Dench, Notes on a Scandal
• Julianne Moore, Far From Heaven
• Julianne Moore, The Hours
• Julie Delpy, Before Sunset
• Kate Hudson, Almost Famous
  
• Kate Winslet, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
• Kate Winslet, The Reader
• Keira Knightley, Pride and Prejudice
  
• Laura Linney, The Squid and the Whale
• Marion Cotillard, La Vie en Rose
• Meryl Streep, Adaptation
• Meryl Streep, Doubt
• Meryl Streep, The Devil Wears Prada
• Meryl Streep, The Hours
• Naomi Watts, Mulholland Dr.
  
• Nicole Kidman, Birth
• Nicole Kidman, Dogville
  
• Nicole Kidman, Margot at the Wedding
• Nicole Kidman, Moulin Rouge!
• Parker Posey, Best in Show
• Patricia Clarkson, Dogville
• Penelope Cruz, Vicky Cristina Barcelona
• Penelope Cruz, Volver
• Renee Zellweger, Chicago
• Sally Hawkins, Happy-Go-Lucky
• Salma Hayek, Frida
• Samantha Morton, In America
  
• Saoirse Ronan, Atonement
• Shoreh Agdashloo, House of Sand and Fog
• Tilda Swinton, Michael Clayton
• Uma Thurman, Kill Bill
• Vanessa Redgrave, Atonement
• Viola Davis, Doubt