In a year that saw “No Strings Attached” and “Friends with Benefits” make light of sex’s role in determining the fate of a serious relationship, it’s very refreshing to see the dark and honest underside of those movies in “Weekend.” Andrew Haigh’s British realist tale of two men (yes, get over it) attempting to determine what their one-night stand really means is a very illuminating film about assessing their values and priorities. No matter your sexual orientation, the movie speaks to the tortured and uncertain romantic desires in all of us.
The characters, Tom Cullen’s Russell and Chris New’s Glen, are so lucidly and poignantly realized that their candid conversations never seem the tiniest bit fabricated. Haigh’s intimate, fly-on-the-wall filming strategy pays dividends as we feel a part of the discussion, a third character in the narrative with no lines. The naturalism is effortless, the execution practically flawless.
“Weekend” is mostly told in poignant shots and informal conversations, parts that seem small but ultimately add up to something big. As Russell and Glen sort through their past, their commitments, and their futures, they start to get at the core of some very important questions for all couples to ask themselves.
Of course it wasn’t Academy-friendly because neither of the characters died – yes, this is real – but the real accomplishment of “Weekend” is to make a movie that speaks to the problems that all relationships face without ignoring or glossing over the particular challenges that face homosexuals in 2011. It doesn’t shy away from some raw images, so if that makes you uncomfortable, then maybe this isn’t the movie for you. But if you want to see the movie of 2011 that best captures humanity between the sheets, then this is definitely one to add to your Netflix queue. B+ /
It’s the movie the oil companies don’t want you to see. It was a nominee for Best Documentary Feature at the Oscars in 2010. Now, “Gasland” is my pick for this week’s “F.I.L.M.” (Just another reminder, that’s First-Class, Independent Little-Known Movie.)
Filmmaker Josh Fox takes the Michael Moore approach to documentary filmmaking – that is, making a movie about an issue that concerns them, explaining it, and then filming their active involvement in trying to change it – but actually does it right. There may be some errors, according to various fact-checkers who have examined the movie, but at the very least, “Gasland” will make you think twice before jumping immediately on the natural gas bandwagon. It’s all too easy now with gas prices soaring to record highs; however, there is no easy solution to America’s energy problem, no silver bullet.
If natural gas is ever going to be more than just an alternative form of energy, Fox shows us how the industry is in dire need of reform and regulation. After receiving a letter that a gas company wanted to drill for gas on his land in Pennsylvania, Fox decides to look into the process of hydraulic fracking that would be happening on his property. Going from house to house in areas where fracking took place, he finds that the gas companies often contaminate the water supply. Put a lighter under the faucet at these homes, and you can light their water on fire. Scary, right?
Turns out, Congress exempted the natural gas industry from following the Safe Drinking Water Act in 2005 when new energy policy was being pushed down the pipelines. If this frightens you, this is only the beginning of the real-life horror story in “Gasland.” It’s worth a watch if you are concerned about what these companies can do to average citizens without the knowledge to realize it or the resources to stop it.
Not since “Avatar” has any film so gloriously realized the transformative potential of 3D as Wim Wenders has with his dance documentary “Pina.” I don’t know what made him think to combine the technology with the choreography of the late Pina Bausch, but someone had to figure out that the best way to eat peanut butter was with jelly, too. This may very well be the new gold standard for 3D, bringing back the “WOW!” factor in a way that I haven’t felt since leaving Pandora in 2009.
So whether you can still make it to a theater still showing “Pina” in an added dimension or you need to run down your list of Facebook friends until you find one with a 3D TV, the only way to see this movie is with the glasses on. I’ll admit that the movie does have a limited appeal; if you can’t watch 100 minutes of Pina’s expressionist dance compositions, then the movie will just be an empty and boring experience for you. But even if you just watch a tiny bit of the film, the cinematography and the stunning 3D will make it a few worthwhile minutes.
I am hardly an expert dance interpreter, so I myself am hardly the audience for “Pina.” Yet even as my interest began to wane in the second half of the film, I was so in awe at the brilliance of the aesthetics on display. Whether you understand the meaning of Pina’s work or not, Wenders makes sure you appreciate the beauty, the passion, and the physicality that allowed the piece to blossom. He matches her unparalleled eye for dance with his own virtuosic camerawork. Pina’s work no longer lives in old videos and old memories; Wenders captures it in vibrant life and breathes a new spirit into her choreography, communicating its magic on stage through his own magic on the screen.
His “Pina,” more of an exhibition and a memorial service than a documentary, is realized through her soul and through her dance. While the film begins to test our patience and does not do a particularly great job in defining Pina Bausch herself, Wenders’ mushy-gushy valentine may do more for cinema than it does for dance. His 3D actually puts you in the frame and all but makes the dancers tangible. Now you know I would never advocate seeing a movie just to see a movie … but in the case of “Pina,” I might just make an exception. B /
We’re all allowed some major guilty pleasures, aren’t we?
So sorry that I’m not sorry about loving “Puss in Boots.” I’m well aware that it’s a shadow of DreamWorks Animation’s heyday of “Shrek” and “Shrek 2” (which introduced the titular character). And it’s still no Pixar. But the day that there’s something wrong with having a good laugh at clever wordplay and situations is a day I don’t want to see.
I was busting a gut throughout the movie, and it wasn’t even in spite of myself. It’s delirious fun through and through, reclaiming a shrewd wit that seems to have eluded this studio’s movies for the past few years. I’ll admit that I had my doubts about a spin-off, even if it was based on one of my favorite “Shrek” characters. Yet once the movie began, all my doubts were put at bay and I was enjoying the movie like I was five years old again.
Antonio Banderas’ thick Spanish accent once again brings that sucker punch of spirit to the character of Puss in Boots, no longer a marginalized sideshow (can anyone say Mike Myers’ Shrek was their favorite character in the series?) but headlining a prequel to the action. I must say, he makes a good case that DreamWorks should have spent ten years and four movies focused on him. Trotting from pun to pun and one twisted-off fairy tale character to the next, he brings a laugh and a wide-faced grin with him wherever he goes.
Whether it’s romancing Kitty Softpaws (Salma Hayek), a perfect romantic foil, through dance battles or attempting to decode the mysterious motivations of Humpty Dumpty (Zach Galifianakis in some truly inspired vocal casting), his adventures are a blast as he pursues the golden eggs at the top of Jack’s magic beanstalk. The story never feels like something we’ve seen before, a remarkable feat for a franchise entry. “Puss in Boots” really is just rollicking good fun for some reason. I could spend more time trying to figure out what exactly that reason is, but I’d rather just let its silliness be and accept the mystery. B+ /
An indie movie for people that hate indie movies, “Like Crazy” aims for the lowest common denominator at all times by stretching the star-crossed lover formula to the edges of watchability. Writer/director Drake Doremus really tests his audience’s patience by asking them to sympathize with two characters who spend 90 minutes complaining about a dilemma caused by their own willful negligence of the law. You would think that only in a fantasy universe do actions not have consequences, but the reality of the film expects to defy the logic of reality.
The entire film hinges on the notion that we are supposed to somehow blame the government for the rift in the relationship of young lovers Jacob (Anton Yelchin) and Anna (Felicity Jones) when it is clearly their fault. Only two morons would really believe that she could just overstay her visa in the United States and not face any ramifications. Just because they are “in love,” as they see but we don’t, does not mean that immigration officials will simply deny the fact that she broke the law. I guess such is the independent spirit of upper-class educated hipsters, believing everyone to be below them and thus only there to serve their peculiarities and desires.
Maybe it would be easier to forgive the two idiotic protagonists if they actually had some chemistry; Yelchin and Jones have as much heat as an industrial-strength freezer. Their relationship begins almost on a whim, continues due mostly to carnal passion, and subsequently fades because an ocean separates them as they are forcibly split by the government. Tell me where I’m supposed to root for anyone in this story, not to mention the actors make their characters surly, grumpy, and generally unpleasant. They’re kind of like the grouches you really hope aren’t making your coffee at Starbucks in the morning.
Really, if Doremus wanted the audience to care at all about such stupid characters, he had to give them something to work with. Instead, he gives us nothing, and it’s all too easy to resist the story and whatever it might have to say about love. “Like Crazy” had the opportunity to really say something about connectivity and modernity, yet it settles to just be two attractive twenty-somethings moping about having to take responsibility for their actions. Welcome to adulthood, kids. C+ /
I’m no better or no worse for having seen the 2011 remake of “Footloose.” I really can’t insult it too much; Craig Brewer’s movie is extremely corny to the point where it almost invites self-mockery. It’s the kind of movie tailor-made to people who don’t want their movies to be sophisticated and crave dialogue that just ridiculously follows a stupid cinematic template. To compare it to the last movie I reviewed, “A Separation,” does neither justice as this movie relishes being something very far removed from reality.
And indeed, if you can just fade into a world where dancing, not drinking, is the societal evil, then “Footloose” may be just the movie for you. There are plenty of decently choreographed sequences that catch the eye, but they feel a little out of place without the framework of a Broadway musical. It wants to be a musical movie without fitting into the musical genre, a hybrid that didn’t really work when Tim Burton tried it in 2007 with “Sweeney Todd” and doesn’t fare any better here.
If you can’t remove the critic in you to watch a movie, then “Footloose” probably just isn’t a movie you should spend your time watching. Kenny Womald, the newcomer cast as leading man Ren, will undoubtedly irk you. While it’s admirable that they didn’t just cast a Zac Efron-type for looks, casting an unknown carries risks, and the movie becomes a 101 course on why you shouldn’t cast one in a big role. He has what Soulja Boy Tell ‘Em would call an annoying “pretty boy swag,” meaning that he struts his body and hair around as a replacement for really acting.
Julianne Hough sure can sing, but I’ll need a few more movies before I can buy her as an actress. She gets the prickliness of her loose character Ariel right on, but I got the feeling she should have been a little more sympathetic than Hough made her come across. Leave the emo teenage angst to Kristen Stewart, please. Miles Teller as Ren’s boon companion Willard is the closest thing “Footloose” has to a scene-stealer, yet knowing that this was his follow-up to the superlative “Rabbit Hole” just made me sad inside. And Dennis Quaid, once again, puzzles me with his undeniably eclectic role choice as the fire-and-brimstone Reverend Shaw.
I haven’t seen the original with Kevin Bacon, but I feel like I can say “don’t fix something that isn’t broken” to Brewer’s remake just as easily as I can to any other half-baked and uninspired Hollywood retooling. New faces on an old story … sigh. It’s ok, many greater directors have tried and failed just like you, Brewer. Not everyone can be Martin Scorsese; there have to be some directors who can make him look like a saint in comparison. C /
It’s interesting to see the parallels between the last two movies awarded the Best Foreign Language Film prize at the Academy Awards, last year’s “In a Better World” and the most recent winner, “A Separation.” Both are very broad, universal tales that provide a richly humanistic exploration of important themes. The former took on revenge, and the latter tackled honesty.
But the wonder of “A Separation” is that it manages to simultaneously tell a rich tale grounded in common experience and one that is distinctly Iranian. By exploring how his culture could very well be a microcosm for the entire world, writer/director Asghar Farhadi probably could not have come at a better moment. In his acceptance speech, he relished the moment as it promoted an image of the country beyond their crazy leader Mahmoud Ahmadinejad. The Iranians battle their society but also themselves, just as we all do; Farhadi remarked, “I proudly offer this award to the people of my country, a people who respect all cultures and civilizations and despise hostility and resentment.”
Really, that’s the core of his movie, too. All the characters know the way to be a better person, but there are personal and social forces holding them back from doing the right thing. Whether it’s their pride, their zeal, their lifestyle, or their religion, “A Separation” is an excellent chronicle of people consciously missing the mark.
We all know Denzel Washington is an outstanding actor. Most of us know that the same could not be said for Ryan Reynolds. (For those that refute this, ask yourselves whether you are in love with his physique or his performances.) “Safe House” amounts to little more than a “Bourne”-lite adventure reaffirming these virtually self-evident conclusions.
The adventure takes us to South Africa, where the dullness of Matt Weston’s (Reynolds) humdrum job supervising a CIA safe house has begun to take a psychological toll as he feels stuck and unable to move up the institutional ladder. This would be an Occupy-friendly film if only Reynolds were complaining about not having a job; later, the film delves into a new favorite action movie trope that would also have the vagrants of Zuccotti Park licking their chops: THE GOVERNMENT IS CORRUPT! All of them! Just working the government destroys your soul and taints your brain! I get it, Hollywood, you love 1968 and want to keep the spirit of skepticism and distrust of institutions alive … but that was four decades ago and the schtick is getting a little old. Maybe it’s time for a new target.
But the monotony of his vocation gets suddenly broken when a captured criminal is brought it – young Cornel West! Just kidding, Denzel Washington’s rogue CIA agent Tobin Frost only looks like him. The difference between the scholar and the character is that Frost is much better at getting people to see things his way. As the latest Hannibal Lecter knock-off, Frost is hardly as frightening as might be expected, but Washington’s calm portrayal certainly makes him an eerie wild-card and a ticking time bomb.
Actually, YES, her again. Meryl Streep won her third Oscar last week, and while many (including myself) were a little upset because we were hoping Viola Davis would pull out a historic Best Actress win, it’s reason for celebration. She’s the greatest living actress, and I think few would dispute that claim. The way she gracefully and naturally inhabits any character she chooses to play is astounding. “Doubt,” my choice for the “F.I.L.M. of the Week,” is no exception. It was Oscar nominations all around for everyone in the cast including Streep, who received her fifteenth Oscar nomination for the role back in 2008.
John Patrick Shanley’s film, adapted from his own Tony Award and Pulitzer Prize winning play, explores a host of complicated moral and theological dilemmas in the wake of a potential priest-child sex scandal. Streep’s Sister Aloysisus becomes convinced that Father Flynn, played with a fiercely tenacious resolve by Philip Seymour Hoffman, has committed a vast wrongdoing despite having no proof. Her basis for such grave accusations are the suspicions of the naive Sister James (Amy Adams), who merely makes observations and leaves Aloysisus to construe her own meaning from them.
What results is nothing less than an acting battle between some of the best players in the game. They debate race, gender, sexuality, submission, and authority with such high stakes that you can’t help but be totally drawn into the conversation. No one would accuse Streep or Hoffman as giving constrained performances in the film, but “Doubt” hardly devolves into a shouting match as it easily could have. Rather, the dialectic struggles are only enhanced by the loudness of their voices. Adams, meanwhile, plays her typecast airhead role so well yet with a remarkably enhanced bravura. She really nails the loss of innocence arc that so often devolves into senseless banality. Davis is phenomenal as well in a single scene that packs more punch than many actresses can in an entire movie.
Hopefully Adams and Davis aren’t too far off from finally winning the Oscar that has eluded them for the past few years; Streep can now sit back and enjoy the ride; Hoffman is probably due for a second trophy at some point. So while we wait for the next Oscars, we can relish in movies like “Doubt” where four great actors act with so much intensity that the frame can barely support it.
The fact that movies like “Gone” are allowed to be written, green-lit, financed, filmed, and released is shameful. To call it a trite trifle is to do the flagrance of its unoriginality a disservice; I can think of few worse ways to spend 90 minutes of my life than watching this movie. If this movie didn’t nab Amanda Seyfried, I would expect it to be in the $5 bin at a truck-stop stuffed below a dozen copies of “Pootie Tang.”
A girl goes missing? Her sister (Seyfried) will stop at nothing to find her and the kidnapper? That same sister is just as crazy as the criminal? Please, no-name directors, leave stories like this to masters like Scorsese, who actually did something masterful with a similar plot in “Shutter Island.” For once, I’d like Hollywood to stop belittling the work of true artists by doing half-baked carbon copies that border on outright plagiarism.
Moreover, it’s not just what they are doing that makes me mad, but it’s also how they are doing it. PLEASE do not put a movie before paying audiences if you cannot come up with an ending. Do not cop out and scrap together an open ending if you don’t have the decisiveness or intelligence to devise one. Again, leave that to people with a vision. Do not borrow their techniques to hide your own laziness. C- /
I think it’s crucial to apply a comparative approach to evaluating the merits of “Wanderlust.” When you look at it in relation to “Role Models” and “Wet Hot American Summer,” director David Wain’s first two comedies, it’s a disappointment that settles for cliches and stereotypes rather than the unique brand of humor on display in his prior work. But of course, compared to other mainstream comedies of the moment, its mild satisfactions are amplified probably more than they should.
Marveling at cult-like communes is nothing new, and the colorful cast of nudists, stoners, and washed-up hippies certainly play into just about every single one of our preconceived notions. It’s amusing enough to watch their antics play out in front of two newly unemployed Manhattan refugees played by the ever hilarious Paul Rudd and the ever gorgeous Jennifer Aniston. Both are a little creeped out at first, but she eventually warms up to the idea of living in a subculture of open doors and open marriages.
There are a few good laughs here and there, but the majority of the time, I just sat there wondering when it would reach “Role Models” heights. Thankfully it does at one point due to Paul Rudd, who honestly might get my vote for the funniest person working in comedy at the moment. His dry, caustic, and biting sarcasm hits home every time even when he’s not trying to be funny (and if someone made a movie of my life, I would want him to play me). Rudd gets one scene, improvised I assume, where he gets to totally let loose with wild accents and wordplay trying to pump himself up for a sexual encounter that absolutely brings down the house. I was easily laughing for a solid two minutes afterwards, totally missing the next scene. And really, as long as I get one of those for my money, I go home happy no matter how derivative or childish the rest of the movie might have been. B- /
If you don’t read the fine print, you could easily be duped into thinking “The Vow” is the latest film adaptation of a Nicholas Sparks beach read – I mean, novel. The marketers were certainly happy to sell it as such, reminding us that the movie doesn’t just star Rachel McAdams and Channing Tatum but rather the leads of “The Notebook” and “Dear John.” Little did I, or many others, realize that their obsession with framing it in terms of Sparks’ work was just a big cover. The movie is actually merely “inspired by true events,” Hollywood’s catch-all phrase that reminds us that something similar happened in real life and that they intend to take massive artistic liberties.
After seeing the movie, I can tell why they had to bombard people with the idea that they had to judge it on the “standards” of Nicholas Sparks (if you can even call them standards). While it may be inspired by reality, it is based on his formula for tears and gushy displays of shameless romanticism. Hollywood never seems to take the right lessons away from their smashing successes, and “The Vow” is just a further reminder of how skewed their logic has become. Some things only work once, and to hammer them away into hackneyed oblivion.
There comes a point when these calculations eventually stop yielding success and the total becomes less than the sum of its parts. “The Vow” represents that for the Sparks weepies, although it may have come earlier since I don’t make it a point to see movies like this. A big group of friends insisted on seeing this movie (although I did remind them that there was a great movie called “The Artist” showing a couple of screens down), so I decided I might as well see what the fuss was about these movies.
In case you didn’t get enough of me talking about the Oscars yesterday – I mean, I only live-blogged for 10 hours – here’s a bit of a debriefing which can benefit from hindsight and the absence of heat of the moment blogging.
NPR‘s Linda Holmes called the show a “regrouping;” EW called it “comfort food;” I called it “a VERY good night.” If I had to sum it up in a word, it would be nice. It was very nice to have Billy Crystal back after a very strange couple of years experimenting with Oscar hosts, both good (Steve Martin, Ellen DeGeneres, Hugh Jackman), bad (Jon Stewart, Alec Baldwin, Anne Hathaway), and ugly (James Franco, Chris Rock). It was old-fashioned, just like most of the winners … but if something isn’t broken, why try to fix it? Here was his hysterical song-a-logue opener, per usual.
Maybe the show was just fun for me because the red carpet was SO dull. The only two women who were worth a desktop background were Rooney Mara and Jessica Chastain. Bravo, hope to see you all soon.
I mean, THIS was the highlight of the red carpet! Bizarre, bizarre…
As everyone knew, this was their movie:
And for all those who think “The Artist” will be a head-scratcher of a winner, at least it’s not forgettable and disposable like “The King’s Speech.” Curious future Academy-minded ponderers will just have to look beyond the title cards and at the context of its win. The collective psyche of Hollywood should be pretty apparent.
As for the acting winners, no one can really complain. Jean Dujardin was charming as can be, and a new generation got to see the greatest actress of our time take the Oscar stage to claim a prize she deserves. Octavia Spencer got all choked up, and it was beautiful. Christopher Plummer was dashing as ever, and it was very cool to see the oldest actor to ever win an Oscar deliver quite the speech. In my opinion, they got Supporting exactly as they should – and then just fell to the allure of a living legend and a Frenchman doing his best matinee idol. Nothing wrong with that.
I always take solace in knowing that many of the greatest movies ever were not Academy darlings. You can break down many films into “their” movies and “our” movies, and here are some of the greats from 2011 that now belong to us, the fans. They get “The Artist;” we get “Shame.”
Overall, as I more or less close the book on 2011, the Oscars were able to brighten a pretty dull year. They found some great work and rewarded it. While it might not have been my favorite, “The Artist” is a joyous and buoyant movie that reminds us of the artistry and emotion that brings us to the theater and to watching the Oscars every year.
(And in case any of you were wondering, here was my best of 2011 as of last night. There are still a few movies from last year I didn’t see that could make a few slots move.)
NOTE: I’ll be at my computer all day, so I will be craving some interaction with readers! Feel free to leave a comment or write on my Facebook fan page and I will happily respond to anything you might want to know!
11:36 P.M. Uggie! Uggie! Uggie! That’s a tie with five trophies for “The Artist” and “Hugo,” and “The Iron Lady” clocks in with two awards. Everything else only won one award. My ballot went 19/24 tonight, which is probably one of my better ones in years! So by all accounts, it was a VERY good night. Thanks for reading, everyone! And I guess thanks to Billy Wilder, as Michel Hazanavicius insists!
11:34 P.M. Just one big montage of all the Best Picture nominees… I guess this will do.
11:31 P.M. Just to be clear, Meryl Streep is NOT winning her third Oscar for “The Iron Lady.” She’s winning it for every movie between “Sophie’s Choice” and “The Iron Lady.” That was bold of her to be so honest as to say, “Half of America went ‘Ohhhh no, not her again!'” Hats off to the greatest actress of our generation.
11:29 P.M. BEST ACTRESS: MERYL STREEP, “THE IRON LADY“
11:25 P.M. Even if Viola Davis doesn’t win, it’s an empowering moment for women everywhere to see the actress with her natural hair.
11:19 P.M. Jean Dujardin gave such a fun, energetic speech … but Harvey Weinstein is going to have his @$$ for not thanking the man who basically made his win possible.
11:18 P.M. BEST ACTOR: JEAN DUJARDIN, “THE ARTIST“
11:14 P.M. Wait, why did they get rid of all the amazing Best Picture tributes during the ceremony? It help cut down on time, but I still really liked those!
11:04 P.M. And the best way to get people to cry is to cue up “What a Wonderful World” when they think about dead people…
10:54 P.M. “I’m the happiest director in the world” beats “I’m king of the world!” any day. Michel, we love your humility … and the fact that you thanked Uggie!
10:53 P.M.BEST DIRECTOR: MICHAEL HAZANAVICIUS, “THE ARTIST“
10:45 P.M. Wow, I got all three short films right! That’s never happened before!
10:45 P.M. BEST ANIMATED SHORT FILM: “THE FANTASTIC FLYING BOOKS OF MR. MORRIS LESSMORE”
10:42 P.M. BEST DOCUMENTARY SHORT FILM: “SAVING FACE”
10:41 P.M.And the SAG “Scorsese” drinking game continues…
10:40 P.M. BEST LIVE ACTION SHORT FILM: “THE SHORE”
10:39 P.M. Oh, the “Bridesmaids” cast with their phallic jokes…
10:35 P.M. In case you missed it early, this happened…
10:32 P.M. Ok, what is with these random musicians in the boxes?
10:31 P.M. Woohoo!!!! That’s the one Oscar I really wanted to see! I don’t even need an acceptance speech to top it off!
10:02 P.M. “You’re only two years older than me, where have you been all my life, darling?!” – Christopher Plummer. What a wonderfully charming speech. I’ll remember this one for a long time!
10:01 P.M. The oldest actor EVER to win an Oscar! Congratulations, Christopher Plummer! A much-deserved standing ovation!
10:00 P.M. BEST SUPPORTING ACTOR: CHRISTOPHER PLUMMER, “BEGINNERS“
9:46 P.M. “And then they give me a million dollars!” – Chris Rock. I think a million unemployed Americans just found their calling.
9:46 P.M. I’m sure every animator in the world wants to kill Chris Rock right now…
9:43 P.M. BEST DOCUMENTARY FILM: “UNDEFEATED”
9:41 P.M. Hey Gwenyth, what happened to the cape?!
9:40 P.M. “Next year, this will be called the Flomax Theater.” – Billy Crystal
9:37 P.M. Random to have Cirque du Soleil performing at the Oscars … and awkward that someone fell.
9:34 P.M. And now the Muppets talking about their first movie theater experience … WE GET IT ALREADY! Sorry if I’m going to have to watch “We Need to Talk About Kevin” on my phone because it isn’t going to come to me!
9:33 P.M. I do love a good Oscars ad for “Modern Family.”
9:14 P.M. What beautiful tears … they should NOT have made her wrap it up!
9:13 P.M. She’s so overcome with emotion that she can barely walk, and a very fitting STANDING OVATION!!!
9:12 P.M. BEST SUPPORTING ACTRESS: OCTAVIA SPENCER, “THE HELP“
9:10 P.M. A very classy and timely speech by Iranian director Asgar Faghadi.
9:08 P.M. BEST FOREIGN LANGUAGE FILM: “A SEPARATION”
9:06 P.M. Is Sandra Bullock capable of smiling beneath that plastic facade?
9:00 P.M. And another tribute to going to see the movies from your favorite movie stars, including 11-time Razzie nominee (just from 2011 alone) Adam Sandler!
8:58 P.M. Ok, are Cameron Diaz and Jennifer Lopez drunk?
8:52 P.M. They are really pushing the big screen with a direct call-out to people who watch movies on their phones.
8:51 P.M. I’m enjoying all these shout-outs to Kodak’s bankruptcy … “Chapter 11 Theater” and “Your Name Here Theater,” hopefully this is just the beginning.
8:46 P.M. That’s 2 trophies for “Hugo” already … this could be a BIG technical sweep.
When I first saw Woody Allen’s “Midnight in Paris” back in June 2011, I knew it would be one of my favorite movies of the year. Sure enough, it was, charting at #3 on my Best of 2011 list. But I had my fingers crossed all year that it would have what it takes to make the Academy’s list for Best Picture.
I got a little worried over the summer when the rule change in Best Picture to allow for a fluid field of five to ten nominees put extra stock in first place votes. I feared that everyone liked the movie but not enough people loved it. Allen has plenty of respect in the Academy – I mean, he’s only been nominated 23 times – and everyone loves it when an old pal returns to form.
But once awards season got rolling, all my doubts were put to rest. It had a relatively easy cruise to a Best Picture nomination after picking up just about every precursor mention necessary to stay firmly planted in the conversation. It was nominated for the top prize at the Critics’ Choice Awards and the Golden Globes as well as picking up a mention as one of the year’s ten best from the American Film Institute. It did exceptionally well on the guild circuit, notching mentions from the Screen Actors Guild, the Producers Guild, the Directors Guild, and the Writers Guild (where it picked up a much deserved win!). I don’t think anyone would deny that in a traditional year of five Best Picture nominees, “Midnight in Paris” would easily have been included.
With the ceremony just days away, everyone knows it’s “The Artist” for Best Picture – just like it has been since the season got kicked off, arguably since Cannes back in May 2011. Thankfully, a concept I like to call Oscar Socialism will kick in and give “Midnight in Paris” a win. My bet is that it comes for Best Original Screenplay since the writers love Woody Allen and its stiffest competition comes from a film with very little scripted dialogue. He hasn’t won here since 1986 with “Hannah and Her Sisters,” Allen’s highest grossing movie until “Midnight in Paris” surpassed it.
But let’s zoom back for a little bit and examine the movie irrespective of awards season politics. That’s what Woody Allen would want. Why else would he not attend any ceremonies to pick up his well-deserved trophies?
“Midnight in Paris” opens to the music of Sidney Bechet with a three-minute prologue featuring nothing but exterior shots of Paris. And if you aren’t resolved to visit by the time the opening credits roll, I don’t know what will ever make you want to go to Paris. Allen says the sequence is designed “to put people in the mood of Paris.”
The movie itself addresses the theme of nostalgia, and its warning to resist its deceiving allure resonates strongly and truthfully in a Best Picture race that includes “The Artist,” “Hugo,” and “War Horse,” all cinematic paeans to bygone times and styles. Early on in the film, a character states that “Nostalgia is denial – denial of the painful present… the name for this denial is golden age thinking – the erroneous notion that a different time period is better than the one one’s living in – it’s a flaw in the romantic imagination of those people who find it difficult to cope with the present.” Throughout the film, Gil Pender (Owen Wilson) must confront the validity of this assertion as he experiences the joys and the struggles of living in a different era, the 1920s Lost Generation of expatriate artists in Paris.
In a December piece in The Los Angeles Times, Allen reflects on why his latest film seems to have struck such a cord: “”People don’t want to be where they are at the moment. All of us at the moment are in a bad time, because reality is a tough place to be in. Gaugin thinks if he lived in Tahiti, or I think if I moved to Martha’s Vineyard or Paris, would I be happier? That is the constant fantasy, but you’re the person with problems, and they get transferred to the new locale. You can’t shake it.”
For me, movies like “Midnight in Paris” are the perfect companion to deal with the painful present. It’s a movie that doesn’t ignore the problems of the modern age but doesn’t dwell on them as insurmountable. That’s why it’s in the race – and that’s why I believe it deserves to win.
It’s the movie the oil companies don’t want you to see. It was a nominee for Best Documentary Feature at the Oscars in 2010. Now, “Gasland” is my pick for this week’s “F.I.L.M.” (Just another reminder, that’s First-Class, Independent Little-Known Movie.)
The fact that movies like “
Marshall and the Movies 
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