Farewell Weinstein...I thought I knew ye well?

Great little op-ed in the L.A. Times today about the creative demise of the Weinstein brothers, a.k.a. Harvey Weinstein a.k.a. the svengali behind every big Miramax Oscar campaign of the 90's. So, is he past his peak? Has he lost his ability to find the hidden gems inside the piles of cubic zirconia? I have to confess I had no idea he was behind many of the doozies that have come out recently (Grindhouse included) and I'm a little puzzled about how someone who "discovered" Fernando Merielles is also behind Hannibal Rising? It sounds like he's developing the media mogul disorder, which is also commonly referred to as Rupert Murdoch syndrome. Look people, just because you have enough money and clout to enter a lot of different media channels it doesn't mean you should or that you will succeed.

Ah, but this is a farewell so I turn to the best homage to Weinstein. I'd have to say it was the Entourage episode at Sundance where we get to see Harvey "Weingard" huff and puff his way around Park City crushing all of the Hollywood detrius that dares to cross his path (*I tried to find a clip of this on youtube, but to no avail...HBO pirates need to get on that*) By now Weinstein has been profiled to death so we know he's vicious, power hungry, and has a pretty impeccable eye when it comes to provocative films. So, I raise my glass of water to you Harvey--thanks for a decade of good movies and even better back lot intrigue.

Making Lemonade (out of badass, stylish lemons)

In homage to Rekha's classic post on movie trailers, I thought I'd turn the retrospective toward this tv spot advertising the dvd release of Smokin' Aces. I was a bit puzzled by the way the New York Times review by A.O. Scott was used to promote the film. I wondered, "Did the NYT really say that? Do the forces behind Smokin' Aces take such comments as positive? WTF?" Being somewhat familiar (I think) with Scott's style, it didn't seem to me that "Blam! Blam! Expletive. Expletive. FBI! Plot twist! Expletive. Roll credits" could possibly be complimentary. Something smelled fishy. I looked up the review.

The spot cleverly does not quote a few of Scott's longer descriptions of the film, the most choice of which describes the film as a "Viagra suppository for compulsive action fetishists and a movie that may not only be dumb in itself, but also the cause of dumbness in others." Ouch. Another of my favorite gems: "The editing scheme, jumping from one set of characters to another, with cute juxtapositions of image or dialogue, is annoyingly literal-minded, and the climactic surprise manages to be both predictable and preposterous." Double ouch.

I raise this in light of some of the blog discussions I've had (here and here) regarding "bad taste" (or "good taste") in film. Or maybe just my taste. And I think the way this spot uses the NYT review speaks to the frustration I've been struggling to articulate. Clearly the filmmakers behind Smokin' Aces weren't ashamed of their poor NYT review; rather, they're highlighting it in a coy, ironic attempt to say "we aren't fazed by such effete, precious reviews of our raucous thrill ride! Not only do we not care what you think, we don't think our fans will either!"

And they're probably right. And this wouldn't be a problem if I wasn't an effete and precious film critic.

So, has anyone actually seen Smokin' Aces?

Doling out the credits.

L--
I think this is a really important disucssion to have--who do you give credit to when a film is working, and what do you do when one falls apart? I know we discussed this recently in relation to The Namesake, a film with a brilliant director behind it and a few good actors as well, and yet it didn't work. Who would I blame for this? Well, I know the source material is good because I've read it, but when fiction doesn't "translate" well into film is that the fault of the screenplay writer? And let's just say it is, shouldn't we hold Nair responsible for not reigning the writer in if they were off in mood, tempo, etc? Because bottom line one job the director definitely DOES have is to be a CEO of sorts, keeping people plugging away at their smaller roles in order to make sure the larger machine of movie making chugs along. Now, having said that I have a hard time blaming Nair for this, and that's purely because of my own highly subjective reasons for liking her work. I don't want to believe she's capable of taking good material and turning it into something fairly mediocre.

I will go one step further and say that I do value the "auteur" filmmaker over the one trick pony, and that's because your artistic capabilities have to be so much stronger to do that. I don't think being the "CEO" of a film is easy, but those are skills you can learn whereas the artistic ones are much more precious to me, and those are the ones you have to execute well in order to be an auteur.

As sort of a corollary I also wonder where the critic falls in this interpretive frame? I mean it's no secret that the critic is subjective and undoubtedly has directors/actors/writers that they perfer over others, but regardless of who the movie is targeted to they have to find a larger way to speak to it because their reader won't strictly fit the target demographic (unless you're the New Yorker, in which case you exude elitism and a contrarian nature--here's looking at you David Denby)? So, for example how does someone like Kenneth Turan look at a niche film like Volver? Well, some might argue that we all have the ability to step outside the narrow confines of our own critical inquiries, but actually I don't think that's true. I think we end up with informal genres like "chick flicks" because the critic, like anyone has a limited world view, and can't always conceive of certain tropes and characterization without reverting to simplistic categories. So, what I'm wondering is if everything is slippery and subjective on what ground can the confident blogger speak?

~R

Retro...reply!

Rekha,

Thanks for kicking off the grand retrospective. This is a great idea, not just because I enjoy being self-congratulatory and having an excuse to talk about myself and my "work", but also because this is the time in the semester (you remember semesters, right?) when I get very narrow, very purpose-driven, and can't see the metaphorical forest for the metaphorical trees. It's a nice opportunity to broaden my view and bit and think about what this space has done and has the potential to do in the future. But first, to the past.

I think that the blogging we've done here and the conversations that our blogging has provoked have really forced me to consider who the "author" of a film really is. I see this question as tightly linked to your question of "what a film a film is doing"--you're really interested in the way the film is operating within culture, and I'm sort of focusing on the agent(s) responsible for the production of the film. Which is not to say I have any desire to get bogged down in the disputed territory of authorial intention, but just that so often in film the creative origin falls along a spectrum ranging from incredibly diffuse to a singular vision. Looking at where a particular film falls along that spectrum, and why, is fascinating to me.

We had a discussion in the film class last year about the MLA convention of citing the director as the author of a film, and it really opened a whole wide realm of questions for me as to who is responsible for what in the creation of a film. This discussion, of course, needs to be situated within particular production systems (Hollywood), genres, and the discrete filmmakers themselves, but still think it's worth discussion. For example, there was the high-tension dispute over the title of "auteur" between the creative forces behind Amores Perros, 21 Grams, and Babel, director Alejandro González Iñárritu and screenwriter Guillermo Arriaga. Both men, in my estimation, have a huge claims for their responsibility in the quality of these films, yet somehow the egotastic notion of the Enlightenment individual gets in the way of calling collaboration what it is. It's collaboration. Which isn't to say that some filmmakers aren't digging collaborating--there are certainly some doing that like crazy: just look at the interminable list of producers and directors for Little Miss Sunshine. But maybe that's just a different kind of film.

Then there are the Altmans, the Almodovars, and the Lynches who I genuinely believe execute a singular vision. Yes, they have help. Yes, there are cinematographers, ADs, and script advisers who certainly have creative influence. But if we're talking about vision, foresight, or innovation, there really are some filmmakers--properly not called directors, since I believe that director is actually a quite limited job--who genuinely conceive and execute films that are entirely their own.

I don't have a point, really. Just, I guess, that I don't value one type of filmmaking or filmmaker over another, but I'm fascinated by the ways we've examined who does what when making film.

Retro...what?

Okay, hit the rewind button for a second. One year ago: Was I watching movies? Check. Did I babble endlessly to students about the merits of Bottle Rocket? Check. Was everyone pondering the future of movie theaters as people flocked in droves to dvd's and interweb piracy? Check. So, you might be asking yourself what is this retrospective about? Well, dear reader we are about one year in to the start of this blogging project, and what has changed is that thetwocents exists, and for that I am really happy.

So, to kick off this one year trip down memory lane I'm directing my thoughts to co-blogger extraordinaire Leslie. Here goes.

L--

If there's one very general thing I could say about this past year in movies and blogging it would be how much I have raised my awareness of "what a movie is doing", and I think that operates on many levels. There's what the movie is actually doing (physical actions, plot lines, written words being expressed), there is what the movie is doing to us (how do we interpret and interact with what unfolds on the screen), and then there's that sticky space in between what the director wants the movie to "do", or what the writer perceived the job of the movie to "be". All of this is a lengthy way of saying movies don't exist in one realm, and by talking about, reading about it, and blogging about it I'm starting to realize how many ways there are for us to think about movies. It's endless and amazing, and it's what makes commentary tracks on dvd's all the more enticing. Finally some answers! I'm thinking in particular of the media blitz surrounding Tarantino and Rodriguez's Grindhouse double feature. Although I'm willing to give these movies VERY little credit I do believe that the director's ideas and potentially ironic distance from the exploitation movies they loved will play with audiences in an interesting way. After all there will be people who go and see it purely for the objects it claims to deride at a safe cool distance. So, what does Grindhouse mean to Tarantino and Rodriguez versus me versus the 18-34 year old male that I'm confident they are targeting? I guess I'll just leave this thought with the fact that I'm glad diversity exists in all spaces, I really am. I also think Grindhouse looks like the dumbest excuse ever for two overgrown kids to go crazy with digital effects in order to recreate some nostalgia stained "authentic" American cinema.

So, what's on your blogging mind these days?

--R

Bonding With the Female Gaze

So, I've had the flu the last week or so, and have therefore spent a number of afternoons and evenings splayed out on the ol' couch. Rather than watch reruns of The Hills or What Not To Wear, I've been watching Casino Royale. Over and over and over.

The process goes something like this: I turn on the movie, watch for about 20 minutes, fall asleep for a few hours, wake up, restart the movie around the point where I fell asleep, watch for about 20 minutes, fall asleep. Lather, rinse, repeat.

The effect of this lucid dreaming, repetitious, Bond-infused sleep is that I've had some pretty deep thoughts about this movie. Here it is people, my epiphany: Casino Royale (and especially Martin Cambell's direction) recasts the male gaze. The respective gazes of the camera, the audience, and the characters in the film are all firmly placed on the body of James Bond throughout the film.

Now, I'm not the first to point out that Daniel Craig is man candy. This is well documented.

But what Casino Royale does (IMHO) that is such a break from other Bond films, and other American films for that matter, is replace the sexualized "Bond Girl" with a sexualized Bond himself. At every turn in the film, we as viewers are asked to consider Bond's body; from the gruesome torture scene which involves is manly bits to the attention the script and camera pay to the superior tailoring of his suits, the film demands that we consider Bond's physical presence.

Craig's body also persistently upstages the body of Bond Girl Eva Green. In the scene where Bond finds Vesper crying in her ball gown in the shower, his shirt is the article of clothing that becomes translucent as it's soaked by the water, revealing his skin beneath. In the "love scenes" (a troubling euphemism if ever there was one), his body is not only more plainly visible than hers, but it is also clearly featured by the cameras and lighting as the sexualized presence in the scene.

And, of course, we are all familiar with the image of a dripping-wet Craig emerging from the ocean in his teeny blue bathing suit. For many of us, it recalls Ursula Andress' famous "Dr. No Bikini" and later Halle Berry's homage to Andress in the 2002 Bond film Die Another Day. The Bond Girl in the bikini has become a cultural signpost, telling us who to desire and for which attributes. Which is why I am so intent on giving the filmmakers responsible for Casino Royale their due.

It's no accident that in a film that has worked so deliberately to focus on the physical, sexual presence of its principal character would mimic the iconic image of the Bond bathing suit scene. This film is not only actively shifting its gaze, but telling us as viewers to shift ours as well. As the origin story of the character of James Bond, Casino Royale reminds us throughout that Bond is not the polished, suave super-spy we've come to know embodied in the slimmer, more refined incarnations of Roger Moore and Pierce Brosnan. This is the gauche, graceless, all-thumbs Bond. This is Daniel Craig. And so in order to convince us that Bond is green and untested, his body has been pushed to the forefront of this film: hypersexualized, animalized, and virile.

This one has potential.

...and it sounds like there will be on demand viewings on their website.



Anyone digging it?

Film Adaptations of Graphic Novels are the new Film Adaptations of Regular Novels: Or, How Hollywood Could Never Be Accused of Reinventing the Wheel

Film makers are constantly looking for new ideas, new inspirations, and new ways of telling stories. I admire that. I think that's what keeps the industry from completely burying the art. But am I the only one that's totally bored with comic book movies?

Overwhelming numbers or not, the Persians
got nuthin' on the abs of Sparta.

Now, before you chastise and berate me, yeah, I get it, it's a graphic novel. Yeah, I know this is a sophisticated, adult genre that isn't accurately conveyed with the childish connotations of comic book. But whether it's Frank Miller or Stan Lee, I'm just not that excited about it any more. I guess this is what happened when Hollywood ran out of Henry James and Jane Austen novels to adapt. Or in slightly less literary terms, the comic book bananza also reminds me of the '90s disaster films: Twister and Independence Day were pretty entertaining, but by the time we got to Brosnan's Dante's Peak and Stallone's Daylight, the fad had run its course. So don't get me wrong on the comic book thing: it's not that I universally dislike the genre. I really liked the first Spiderman. The X-Men films where really fanastic until they got Ratnered. But how long before this trend of comic book adaptations gets old? If you ask me, it was yesterday.

I admit that I haven't seen Sin City, and I'm not going to see 300, so I'm not saying these are bad movies. Clearly I have no idea. The point I'm making is that the very concept of these movies is so boring to me that I'm in no way moved to check them out. I'm sure that the films are really well done and have a fantastic appeal to certain audiences, but I guess that I'm offended at the idea that a little computer graphics and some fiddling with the negatives makes it "new". I dislike films that sell themselves as all style, whether or not (and it's usually not) that's all they actually are. We're hip, graphic novels are hip, come be hip with us. I'm just over it.

Taking the Long Way

I recently saw what I think is one of the best documentary snapshots of the U.S. in the last four years or so. Despite the plethora of offerings that have come since September 11th and Iraq from policy wonks, politicans, and hugely bi-partisan organizations it's a little documentary called Shut up and Sing that won me over. Director Barbara Kopple follows the country/rock/bluegrass (however you want to label them) band The Dixie Chicks from their remarks at a London concert concerning the war and George Bush to the release of their most recent album.

I expected an interesting close examination of what they went through over the last three years dealing with fan and corporate backlash, and indeed that's what I got. However, I think where this documentary has staying power is in how well it captures a huge ideological split in a country that is clearly not comfortable with all of its roots. At one point in the film band member Marty Maguire cannily notes that the reason their comments had such traction in the U.S. is because outwardly they looked like the American heartland. They are young women from Texas who are classified in a musical genre that typically embraces the American ethos--(devoted, rugged, nation loving), and yet their political views in no way meshed with that ideal. It is that very paradox that captures the spirit of the film, and explains so well why their story became so big and ultimately has and will define their future in the music industry. Kopple does a great job of moving back and forth from 2003 to 2005 where they are in the midst of their recording process for their new album. Their fears about how they will be received (and by whom--this actually seems like the key question) lend naturally to revisiting their tour in 2003.

This film also offers a decent amount of new material for people who are already familiar with their story. I thought some of the most interesting parts of the documentary were when we saw band members negotiating their new musical territory with managers, producers, and sponsors. It gives you a great sense of all the little machinations that take place in the music industry in order to produce an album and a tour. The film is clearly interested in how their music is changing, and this is no way divorced from their public evolution. Their shift from country to rock is as much a political choice as an aesthetic one (although the common catch-all term for their music is probably pop) We get little slices of Rick Rubin's calm genius in L.A. as he advises them on their "new sound". The film definitely ends on a bittersweet note with bank members acknowledging what is one of the more burning questions surrounding the trio--how Marty and Emily dealt with the backlash surrounding comments that they didn't make nor encouraged. Their response is both courageous and real, because as unprepared as they were for what would follow those comments they in no way apologized for lead singer Natalie's choice to say them. It's a story that could've easily gone the way of most Behind the Music stories, but instead you're left impressed as hell with the kind of voices that can come out of America.

"To Do a Certain Kind of thing You have to be a Certain Kind of Person"

So, what is this certain thing I did you ask? The mission if I chose to accept it: Make the most out of my Blockbuster movie mailing service. Two weeks, endless titles, and to sweeten the deal I could rent in store, a mere two blocks from my apartment.
The result? Pure movie magic. If I could queue triumphant music and an "emotional" sunset right now I would. Here are the results for your reading pleasure.

• Quinceañera--Somewhat mediocre film with a thin plot and even thinner writing to go with it. It is saved by a good cast, and phenomenal shots of Echo Park. In fact, the subplot of gentrification in L.A. was much more interesting, and seemingly more important to the filmmakers given the care with which it was shot.




• Half Nelson--Brilliant all around here. Goslin and Shareeka Epps gave tight focused performances, and this movie manages to slip out of clichés that the teacher-student relationship could've easily fostered. The bonus--a really great soundtrack.




• The Office Christmas Special--So, technically this is tv but since it's epic in scope and influence, and I hadn't seen it yet I added it to the list. What can I say about this that hasn't already been said? Yeah, I got nothing.




• Tsotsi--Not too impressed with this film although the central character had some flair and thoughtfulness to him. On the whole though the plot suffers from stock figures and too simple a glimpse into gangster life. It has all been done before and more interestingly.




• The Departed--Hugely entertaining. That's about the best and most adequate description I have for this movie. I'm not so bitter that it won Best Picture although it is in NO way a thinking person's film.




• Pan's Labyrinth--This wasn't a rental, but since it was part of my movie fest I thought I would include it on the list. This is really careful precise moviemaking at its best. I really like how fantasy and nightmare meshed here, and how politics are personal--it rang very true to me.




• All About My Mother--Well, I bow down to Almodovar so I'm not sure I can speak to anything he does with an even remotely objective or skeptical eye. This film wasn't nearly as crisp as Bad Education or Volver, but extremely heartfelt with (as usual) some great female characters.




• Extras Season One--This is tv, but given my recent Gervais kick I decided to check it out. It's a lot more subtle and less uncomfortable then the Office but the humor is still plucky. I liked it, and I particularly like his use of movie stars (Ben Stiller was especially funny in the bit I saw).

I've got just one movie left to end my experiment with, and since it's a collection of Michel Gondry's videos it will officially end my movie streak. What can I say about the past two weeks? Movies are a love affair that will never end (unlike my online rental service).

Reading the tea leaves

Since everyone is weighing in with their Oscar predictions I thought I would throw my hat in the ring. My best predicition: Oprah's Oscar special will kick Babs's saccharine sweet, pointless sixty minutes of drivel in the arse.

Don't worry--being the intrepid blogger that I am I plan on reviewing both of them thoroughly.

And Then "Pop!" Goes My Heart

So, in honor of VD, I went down to my local multiplex and indulged in some good, old-fashioned romantic comedy.

By old fashioned, of course I mean stock, unoriginal, conventional. Nothing unanticipated, unexpected, or remotely fresh happens in this film. Drew Barrymore is the bubbly, bumbling girl we grew to love in The Wedding Singer and Never Been Kissed. Hugh Grant is the aging (but somehow still sexy) cad that the Bridget Jones films created and we've seen repeatedly since, most memorably in About a Boy and Two Weeks Notice. So with Music and Lyrics we've got stock performances in a stock genre. But wait! I also said it was good...

What do I mean by good? What does anyone mean by good? Well, first of all, don't go looking for originality or surprises in a genre as deeply rooted in formula as the romantic comedy. It's a futile effort that will only disappoint you. There is a pretty standard set of characters and narrative arcs, and deviations from that formula tend to suck (see: The Wedding Date. Actually, don't see it. It sucked.). Yes, I've seen Hugh Grant play this part before. But guess what? I loved it then, and I love it now. I don't want Hugh Grant to reinvent himself any more than I want Sex and the City to be realistic about money and fashion. Put another way: if it ain't broke, don't fix it.

I'm all for invention, innovation, and dynamic acting. I want to be surprised and engaged and impressed at the movies. I just don't want that all the time. And on Valentine's Day, what I wanted, was to go to a cute little romantic comedy with saccharine sweet pop music and listen to Hugh Grant be smarmy and Drew Barrymore be flighty. That's just good entertainment.

If you're interested in a really fascinating look at how romantic comedies work from the male and female perspectives, check out "He Said/She Said", a blog written by a student in Rekha's and my experimental film review course that looks at Nora Ephron and Cameron Crowe.

What's in a Name?

I've officially begun the countdown to The Namesake. I've been obsessing over this movie since I saw the trailer about eight months ago. Anyway, for those of you who haven't read the book it's based on it is well worth it. Here are some snippets of an interview between director Meera Nair and writer Jhumpa Lahiri about the "translation" process from book to film. I'm also just really excited about another Meera Nair film because she is very talented, and a huge analmoly in an industry that outwardly trumpets diversity while remaining pretty inclusive. If you haven't seen any of her other work Salaam Bomby and Monsoon Wedding are both worth a rental.

I should also add the caveat that while my official opinion on the novel is that it covers well tread ground, and doesn't add anything new to identity politics I have to confess that I found it really moving, and very well written.

Real Time Blogging

In an effort to get more creative with my love for movies and interest in blogging I've decided to try do them simultaneously. Yes, that's right--even as I write I am becoming engrossed in Ang Lee's Sense and Sensibility. What will come of this bold experiment? Will my brain explode as I attempt to absorb the acting, shot composition, and score of S&S while at the same time trying to keep you, the reader equally absorbed in my witty and sophisticated blog banter?

Yes.

So instead I am going to hit you with some highlights. First off, I'm not sure I understand what Comcast On Demand means in the grand scheme of my tv watching, but for tonight it means full access to a slew of B- movies (sans S&S of course). So far Emma Thompson is already exuding brilliance as the sensible older sister to Kate Winslet's flightier younger one.

*Sidenote--why do Brits and continental Euros use their knife so much when they eat? It always looks like they're not very hungry and more interested in making a show out of cutting food.*

Okay, sorry back to more important matters. I think subterfuge is a good word to describe what Austen does with language and manners. There seems to be a dual purpose in much of the conversation and interactions, culminating in a sloppy ending that needs to be fixed. Austen deserves and gets a great deal of credit for her writing, but I'll spread that kudos onwards to Emma Thompson for crafting that into a screenplay that really "speaks" visually. Great dialogue can't always make a great movie, but in this case it does and again I'll chalk that up to the intrigue of subterfuge.

The contrast between Kate Winslet and Emma Thompson in these roles is perfection. Both of them are limited by their social standing but where Thompson carries it sensibly as a difficult reality that they must cope with Winslet sees it as an opportunity to escape. There is something infinitely sensible about both of their approaches even as love flits in and out of their lives. The true romantic might ignore all of the red flags society unleashes, and instead be disappointed from the beginning with their lot in life.

Okay, so in anticipation of Hugh Laurie coming on screen, and my blogging/watching exhaustion I will end here. Just know this reader(s): to watch is not enough, and yet to blog and watch is too much.

Harry Potter and the Strictures of Statutory Rape Laws

I've been all about Ron, but this horse might just turn me around on who the real wizard is. Ahem. Seriously though, this play looks like some magical intersection of Harry Potter, The Neverending Story, and Velvet Goldmine. If only I wouldn't have to go slumming on the West End to see it.

What a stallion.

Sundance: Part II

Great piece in the NYT today about Sundance from the actor's perspective, and more specifically from the people who keep cropping up in "indie" films. So, I found this interesting for a lot of reasons with the biggest one being that I do think of indie actors as having their pick of interesting material, and only picking projects they care about. I'm actually glad to find out that's not true, although the reality of it is driven by studios, profit margins, etc. which is not so great to think about. I like believing that Sundance is still a creative lab of sorts for writers, directors, and actors to try their hand at telling more compelling stories.

The article mentions the reputation of Sundance changing because of this:

"Further complicating matters, an ever growing number of Hollywood A-listers regard Sundance as a kind of boutique spa where they can order up an image makeover."

Truth be told the films that come out of here with the biggest buzz usually have the star factor going for them, but bottom line I think this article validates the work of Sundance in a way it hasn't been thought of in years.

Also, a sidebar response to my last post about the Oscars. I actually think the Cannes festival does a much better job of representing the best things happening in the film world. Past winners like Almodovar, Wong Kar Wai, and Michael Haneke have proven it. A quick look ahead to Cannes '07.

P.S.

Now that my wisdom about the Oscars has been doled out it's time to turn our attention to what's happening with movies right now. It seems like Sundance gets more reviews then the movies that premiere there.
For a good look at what's going down at Sundance check out indiewire where the bloggers are living the real dream.

Dreamgirls is out and a little flick with Steve Carell is in--How the Oscars got it right

Okay, so it's old news to a lot of us by now but the Oscar nominations this week were pretty interesting. Although it has already been written about pretty extensively I am excited that Dreamgirls didn't get any major nods. It is a movie I snoozed through the first thirty minutes of, and then had to witness audience cheering and clapping (a sensation I find oddly shameful) for the remaining couple of hours. It wasn't particularly innovative or thoughtful, and if anything it was calculated and inadequate in its attempt to cover an important period of time in broad historical strokes. So, even though my blogging wisdom told me that DG shouldn't be nominated I didn't expect the Oscar nominations to reflect that. More importantly I didn't expect them to acknowledge the best movies of the year as well as they did. I like the distribution they gave to a wide range of films--that's about how I would assess this year, and frankly it's a lot more interesting then a hands down frontrunner. Furthermore, I really like that Little Miss Sunshine got a big nomination because I think it is the most disarmingly clever film I've seen this year. It had a lot to say, and used a really discrete scenario to raise a lot of important questions.

As for why any of this matters (because we know movies don't need awards to validate them. i kid...i kid) I really believe that anytime the mainstream embraces a trend that is positive it's a good thing. In the grand scheme of things a nomination isn't so significant, but it does slowly chip away at studios desperate to push our pre-determined emotionally simple buttons.

Because in '07 we roll en espanol.

The three best movies of '06/'07 depending on the movie sophistication/distribution factor of your city? Volver, Babel, and Pan's Labyrinth. Okay, so I haven't seen the last one yet. Turns out my city is about a 5 on the movie rube/sophistication factor scale. Doesn't matter--all my instincts tell me (and by instincts I mean watching the trailer one too many times) it's going to be awesome. If you don't believe me check out what the NYT's carpetbagger blog has to say about it. For those of you too lazy to follow the link it says said movies are awesome.

P.S. Any guesses as to what this is a picture of?