The Lives of Others (2006)

Premise: While attending a new play with an enterprising co-worker, Grubitz (Ulrich Tukur), Wiesler (Ulrich Mühe) suggests that the Stasi put the playwright, Dreyman (Sebastian Koch), under surveillance. The same night, Minister Hempf (Thomas Thieme), suggests the same thing, although for vastly different reasons. Grubitz puts Wiesler in charge of the operation, but Wiesler finds himself drawn closer to Dreyman and his girlfriend, Christa (Martina Gedeck), than the cold embrace of Communist Germany in 1985.

This is one of the best movies I have ever seen in my entire life. Perhaps it seems that I say such things a lot, at least recently, but you have no idea how tense, how thrilling, and how satisfying a movie can be until you see this one. There are few movies that give you the best possible ending they could, and this offering is among them. Writer-director Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck, whose work I had never seen before Friday, strikes me now as a prince among men for his ability to fill a film about such terrible times with such wit, intelligence, and humanity. Plus, I liked his acceptance speech on Sunday.

From Mühe's economical performance (positive sense), I understood long before we saw his apartment how spartan his existence would be. What I wasn't prepared for was how hardscrabble it was. Mühe never let the slightest bit of depression at the state of Wielser's life show, nor did Wiesler seem resigned, as though he had tried for but found he could do no better. Instead, he lived in a peaceful, banal way until he discovered that, for some, there could be more. A more he believed he was not for him, a more he believe he could protect. My heart breaks for that last shot when Mühe finally lets the slightest bit of emotion show on Wiesler's face.

Koch and Gedeck had the unenviable task of creating something that could sway the heart and loyalty of such a devoted company man, and they did it by generating the warmest of affections. The relationship was lived in yet fresh. Even when deceptions began creeping up, you could still see why the two loved each other. Gedeck has an amazing face for film, conveying a plethora of emotions silently and, it seems, effortlessly. Koch, who is all kinds of sexy, gets that Dreyman is smart, but he's not smarter. He's talented, yes, but he still has to work for it. Things aren't as easy for him as they could be if he lived somewhere else. He's not about to leave. He'll stay to fight, even if he doesn't know what that means or what it could cost him.

Between Stéphane Moucha and Gabriel Yared's score, Hagen Bogdanski's cinematography, and von Donnersmarck's superb script and direction, it doesn't get better than this. A+ (would that there were a higher score)

Oscar Wrap-Up (2007)

Five out of six appears to be my thing. I was pleased with my only upset, but I think my game was off last night. I caught a few on the fly (adapted screenplay, animated short, live action short, costume, foreign language), but I found myself struggling with some of the technical awards. When so many of the major categories were beyond obvious to call, it was odd that I couldn't find the pattern in the "minor" ones. Ah, well, the Academy isn't going to make a lick of sense for my sake.

As you well know, I was a little disappointed when Ellen got the gig this year. I have nothing against her. My loyalty to Jon Stewart simply far outweighs any positive sentiment. Only her white suit looked good, her open monologue was only so-so (I laughed but not at every joke), and she started to repeat her jokes that weren't that funny to begin with. Okay, this sounds overly negative, so I'll tell you that I think she did alright. Giving the script to Marty and getting Spielberg to take her pic with Clint were both great moves.

Let's be glad that Whitaker wrote something down this time instead of pausing, fumbling, and staring. Also, and I just thought of this, he played a real-life figure but didn't call attention to that person. I appreciate that, given the subject. I also liked that the other nominees, particularly Gosling and DiCaprio that I noticed, looked genuinely happy for the person who won. On rare occasions, the Oscars are a big love-in.

Let's also be glad that Mirren pointed out how awesome the actual Queen is and looked hot in the process. It was only right that Will Ferrel, Jack Black, and John C. Reilly all wanted to win awards, so they could take her home. I know I do, albeit in a friendly way. And I sincerely hope that someone does make a movie about a quadruple amputee that teaches gang bangers Hamlet because that would be hilarious.

I'd have to see a transcript to be sure, but I think Hudson avoided using the word "dream" in her speech. If she did, I didn't catch it. Also, Arkin had a prepared speech! Makes me think he must be a joy to be around, if only for that tiny glimpse of optimism.

Ugh, interpretive dancers. The stuff they did was kind of cool, but the whole thing weirded me out. Why was that happening? Minutes could have been shaved off if we didn't have to watch people turn roll themselves into penguins. Also, the sound effects singers scared me. It's a wildly impressive craft, though. I think I'd like to see them more often.

Speaking of music, mad props to Melissa Etheridge. Both her song and her speech got to me. Way to go, An Inconvenient Truth.

Other things I liked: the opening, particularly when Javier Navarrete started whistling his haunting seven note score, and it just sort of took over. Kate Winslet's mint dress. Mark Walhberg in Armani. Martin Scorsese getting teared up during Thelma Schoonmaker's speech. The possibility that Clint Eastwood is fluent in Italian. Ennio Morricone getting teared up during his speech, even if he did look beyond bored during the presentation and Celine's singing. Dreamgirls in smashing red dresses. Abigail Breslin's Easter basket dress, and Jaden Smith proving that he's already got his father's charisma. Ari Sandel being cute and giving a wonderful speech. Everyone winning for Pan's Labyrinth and thanking del Toro for his vision. Tom Cruise appearing sane and with good hair.

Things I didn't like: Hudson's jacket thingie and formal pockets. Seriously, de la Renta. The collors in Cameron Diaz's and Kirsten Dunst's dresses. The monstrosity that was Penelope Cruz's skirt. Eddie Murphy, just 'cause. The bow that ate Anne Hathaway's breasts. Ben Affleck's pissy attitude. The seriously short amount of screen time devoted to Cloons.

And now, a confession: Even though I said it would happen, even though I thought it would happen, I was so surprised and excited when they read Scorsese's name for director that I let out a rather loud gasp. How cute and sweet and funny was his speech? I admire the heck out of him, and, when he looked right at DiCaprio and said he was looking forward to 12, 15, or 20 more years of collaboration, I think it would take the steeliest of hearts not to feel something. You can't buy that brand of collegial spirit. When his picture was called as well, I thought I might burst my buttons. A great speech from Graham King as well. Besides, Diane Keaton and Jack Nicholson, though they certainly appeared to have begun celebrating early, were delightful presenters for best picture. Do they normally let someone do it two years in a row? Especially when he is in the winning picture?

Personal party note: trying to decide if the best part occurred when, for a nanosecond, I was convinced that Sarah had put onions in her cupcakes (a vile, reprehensible act that turned out to be entirely my own doing), when I considered the possiblity that Philip Seymour Hoffman is part lion, or when we accidentally, momentarily convinced a fellow viewer that Catherine Deneuve and Ken Watanabe were a couple. That was a serious shock.

Oscar Round Up (2007)

To review the rules, click here.

Need a refresher on the nominees? Got it.

After last year's resounding defeat (in one category), I was a little weary of laying it out for you this year. So I made myself a pizza and cracked open a root beer. I think I'm ready now.

And, yeah, that's last year's poster, but I couldn't seem to find this year's. Work with me.

You guys, despite the couple of times I sat around and thought there was nothing to see and never would be again, 2006 was a helluva year for movies. Many exciting things happened at the cineplex. Mind you, the Academy wasn't terribly interested in most of those things, but we'll worry about that when it's time for the top ten. In the meantime, let's look at what the Academy has in store for us tomorrow.

Performance by an actor in a leading role:

Nominees: Leonardo DiCaprio in Blood Diamond; Ryan Gosling in Half Nelson; Peter O'Toole in Venus; Will Smith in The Pursuit of Happyness; Forest Whitaker in The Last King of Scotland

There's not much of a point in me writing about this one. Everyone and their grandmother knows that Whitaker is going to walk away with the statuette. O'Toole's the only one on the list that offers series competition: he's been nominated seven times before without ever receiving the award. On the other hand, he does have an honourary award from 2003.

Who will win: Whitaker. Who should win: Gosling. He's electric and brought so much depth to a role that could have been showy and shallow.

Performance by an actor in a supporting role:

Nominees: Alan Arkin in Little Miss Sunshine; Jackie Earle Haley in Little Children; Djimon Hounsou in Blood Diamond; Eddie Murphy in Dreamgirls; Mark Wahlberg in The Departed

Let me ask you guys something: what's up with only one acting nod for The Departed? What's that about? Anyway, it's disappointing to be blogging when most of the main categories are considered locks. I didn't, as you may have surmised, see Dreamgirls, and I doubt I ever will. That movie holds no interest for me. The media attention of what appears to have been, according to the notices I read, an okay to good adaptation of a Broadway musical is such a turn off. There's a little bit of dark horse buzz surrounding Arkin in reaction to both Murphy's rumoured diva attitude and the steady stream of schlock he has been peddling for the last decade. I doubt it will be enough to cause an upset.

Who will win: Murphy. Who should win: Wahlberg. He was so on top of that role that, frankly, I was disappointed he didn't have more screen time. I love a good smart mouth.

Performance by an actress in a leading role:

Nominees: Penelope Cruz in Volver; Judi Dench in Notes on a Scandal; Helen Mirren in The Queen; Meryl Streep in The Devil Wears Prada; Kate Winslet in Little Children

Winslet's every one's favourite bridesmaid. She'll go home empty handed once again, if for no other reason that she's a lot younger than most of her co-nominees. No matter. The other losses don't seem to have discouraged her. She'll get hers some day. I suppose there's no point in discussing this one like it isn't a forgone conclusion any longer.

Who will win: Mirren. Who deserves to win: Mirren. That's right. For a woman who has been giving the performance of a lifetime for, well, a lifetime, it's about time the rest of us got around to noticing.

Performance by an actress in a supporting role:

Adriana Barraza in Babel; Cate Blanchett in Notes on a Scandal; Abigail Breslin in Little Miss Sunshine; Jennifer Hudson in Dreamgirls; Rinko Kikuchi in Babel

I don't think we should nominate children in the same categories as adults. It's not that they cannot give laudable performances - sometimes the kids are even better than the adults surrounding them in a given picture. But until they get older, say 16, it just doesn't seem fair. They rarely win, and it's a lot of pressure to put on a little one.

Another forgone conclusion, which is disappointing because the competition is fierce. Everyone else brought it.

Who will win: Hudson. Who should win: Kikuchi. Her completely disconnected plot was mesmerizing entirely because of her.

Best motion picture of the year

Nominees: Babel; The Departed; Letters from Iwo Jima; Little Miss Sunshine; The Queen

Excellent! I can use my favourite handicapping tool for the category no two people want call the same way! First of all, not all the nods above line up with Achievement in Directing. Secondly, I recently learned that it's an incredibly rare for a picture to win without a nod in the editing category.

Although it's a fan favourite, Little Miss hasn't seen attention in either of those categories, making it an unlikely win. We all like it, sure, but the Academy isn't known for showing the love to comedies.

Letters was recognized in the sound editing category, but that doesn't count. Besides, it's in Japanese, and no one's seen in. The Academy still loves Clint, just maybe a little less this year.

Now I'm down the three. The Queen was great, and it could pick up the award if the other nominees manage to split the vote, but The Queen is Helen Mirren and Helen Mirren is The Queen. Her win counts for the picture, too.

Babel emerged as an early favourite, picking up a Golden Globe, but it hasn't sustained the wins across the other major awards shows. The so-so reviews and general impression that it's Crash 2 hasn't helped.

The Departed's popular, though it's not regarded as Marty's best or much more than a well done genre picture. Still, Scorsese did pick up top honours at the DGA. Looks like it's his year. Finally!

Who will win: Scorsese and The Departed. It's retribution for Taxi Driver, Raging Bull, and Goodfellas. Who should win: Children of Men. It's not even nominated, and I don't care because it was the best picture of the year. Take that, Academy.

I saw . . . this: Part 6

Because sometimes, I see movies.

For Your Consideration (2006)

Christopher Guest outlines and directs the kind of movies that I always mean to see. I think I'll watch it, I set aside time to watch it, I never watch it. I made a point of going to see his latest, about a film set that is overrun with Oscar buzz after one of the stars hears about a blog rumour, but it didn't click with me. I liked it just fine. I had a few laughs. Even so, the satire never kicked in. It had no bite. For my money, I'd hit up State and Main for a Hollywood send-up.

Insomnia (2002)

Years ago, I tried to watch his movie because Jonathan Jackson is in it. I knew it was a small part, but I wanted to see him. I watched exactly one scene with him, got really bored, and turned it off. I had already read whodunit, so there was no allure. A while ago, the movie floated back up to the surface because of director Christopher Nolan. I love Nolan, so I put it back on my Zip List. Sure enough, I enjoyed the movie. As operatic as Pacino can be in his later years, he shows up to do the work more than anyone. Under Nolan, he manages something of a low key performance, and it was a nice change. Finding the killer is only half the game with this one. The cat-and-mouse work to bring him holds your attention far better. I don't know that I can think of a man who better knows his way around a plot twist than Nolan.

Northfork (2003)
I'd never seen a Polish Brothers movie before, and I can't say that this one will deter me from seeing another. It appears that a lot of the critical comments marked this movie about the stragglers in a small Montana town about to be turned into a lake as poetic. I'm not sure I agree. I can certainly see how one might find it allegorical, especially the plot line about the family searching for the unknown angel and the little boy who believes he can help them, but I wouldn't call it poetic, exactly. It's more surreal than anything. It's a quiet movie, nothing in particular happens, but it's a nice way to an hour and a half if you feel like being quiet yourself.

The Faculty (1998)

If you feel like being highly amused by a bad movie over the same time frame, however, this one's for you. Emily reminded me that Jon Stewart was the science teacher. We had to see it again. There's nothing in this movie that isn't funny. The plot loves to make no sense, Josh Harnett is one of the least convincing bad boys I've ever seen (unless making it seem like a really obvious affectation was a sly comment on the characterization of teens by the media . . . nah), and Laura " Daisy, Daisy Adair" Harris is hilariously checked out as nude but menacing alien. Personally, nothing is funnier than watching wee little Stewart toss six-foot-plus Harnett across the lab.

Ghost Rider (2007)

Now, you have to know that when a movie isn't screened for critics, it's going to suck. I know it managed $52 million in its opening weekend. I was one of the people that helped put it there. It's so bad, you pretty much have to have fun watching it. Much like the above, nothing about it isn't funny. I used to think I disliked Nic Cage because he was always mugging for the camera instead of acting. Now I get the laugh at him phoning it in, too! I used to think that I maybe liked Eva Mendes, or that I could in the future. After she decided that her best option was to act like her character's development was arrested at 12, I'm thinking maybe I don't like her. I do, however, like Sam Elliott. He makes everything better. Also, Ghost Rider's powers are lame. He stares at people. What's the point of looking that cool if you aren't going to do anything cool?

Actually, it's like comparing apples and . . . smaller apples

I just read this article in Newsweek by Devin Gordon. I can see where he's going with it, and I agree with his general point (TV's cool), but he's wrong. His argument ignores basic facts. I hate arguments like his. I dislike it that people write as though TV and film are comparable mediums but fail acknowledge what the similarities and differences are.

But let me first say that I agree up to a point. I agree that TV has abundant complex and exciting dramas available. I agree that TV seems to be more willing to push the envelope than film of late. I agree that the films are becoming more polarized in the sense that the middling drama is on the decline, although I fail to see what the problem with that is.

Mostly, though, I disagree. The apples and tubas comment is ridiculous hyperbole because TV and film are similar mediums that feed off and compliment each other. I watch more TV than most people I know, going so far as to tape one show so I can watch two in the time slot or tape shows for others and then mail the tape to them. I say these things as someone who loves TV. I also regularly watch a battery of movies on my TV, both on DVD and on cable. I'm not immune to the charms of any of these mediums.

The majority of the shows Gordon chooses to discuss (The Wire, Rescue Me, The Sopranos) are late night dramas on speciality channels. They have bigger budgets and shorter seasons than the average program, leaving the writers, who he claims are "king" in television, more room to maneuver. It also gives them more room to pursue other programs and feature films in a way that conventional television does not. By putting the shows on later at night, the networks airing them can get away with more in terms of sexual content, violence, and language.

You know what else those programs have? Smaller audiences. Most people still don't get specialty channels like HBO and F/X. They don't watch these glorious programs of which he speaks. He gives mild attention to ratings juggernaut American Idol, which Fox has brilliantly decided to air three nights this week. It's a televised karaoke contest, and it's nigh impossible to counter program.

But Gordon doesn't really want to talk about those kinds of shows. He doesn't want to talk about what sits atop the Nielsen's, which is a closer comparison to what makes the Top 10 in box office receipts, because I think he knows deep down that there is no basis of comparison.

Instead, he wants to talk about The Wire, which I have never seen. I understand that's it's really good, and I'd like to see it, but I have no idea when it's on or where. Ten to one most people reading this don't either. I'm not saying any of you wouldn't watch it either, but most of us don't have that option. If I could afford to get every channel my satellite service provider offered, I would. But I can't, and neither can most people. So we watch basic cable.

Consider an argument like this one: "For decades, if film was the Four Seasons, TV was a Motel 6. You worked in television for the money, or to reboot your career, or just to hang on. Now actors like Alec Baldwin, Steve Carell and Salma Hayek go from hit movies to network-TV gigs, and no one thinks they're nuts." Of course no one thinks they are nuts. Before they had hit TV shows, not a single actor you named was enjoying a successful movie career. The three of them had either fallen from the A-list or never appeared there to begin with. 2/3 of your argument regards career resurgences. 1/3 of it regards a man who's famous for making two very funny movies in the midst of a successful television career. I like all the people you are talking about, but it's not as though Meryl Streep is on your list. You would have made a better point if you talked about Helen Mirren in film and on Prime Suspect. Heck, she's been winning awards for both this season.

"Paul Haggis and Bobby Moresco ("Crash") went straight from the best-picture Oscar to creating "The Black Donnellys" for NBC." Yeah, okay, and before their feature film success, they created Walker, Texas Ranger for CBS. Even here the comparison is faulty. Movies, for the most part, tell one story from beginning to end in a matter of hours. Television programs tell stories over weeks, months, and years. Crash had fixed beginning and end points. Maybe The Black Donnellys doesn't. Maybe, like its lead (Heroes) it tells a sequence that takes place over time. He's right in that you can do that with TV when you can't with film, but that in no way indicates that one medium is better than the other. It all depends on the story you are trying to tell. Gordon celebrates the big-budget premiere of Lost and ignores the way the story has circled round and round itself because the writers and producers clearly don't know how to keep drawing it out and keep it interesting. Supposedly they are back on track, but we're years into the thing.

Which is another problem Gordon fails to address. Even if you wait for the season to end and pick it up on DVD, TV shows ask you to dedicate years of your life to following their ups and downs, often long after they have passed their creative prime. Movies only ask for a couple of hours. Sure, there are sequels and franchises (and yes, I am excited about Spidey 3, and no, I'm not 12), but years can pass between installments, allowing you to pick up other movies in the meantime without any real competition between the two. If I want to remain devoted to Veronica Mars , then I'll be at home Tuesdays at 9 pm for 22 weeks a year. Movies aren't finicky that way.

And, yeah, there is something to going to see a movie in the theatre, to the experience, but I'd still argue that it has more to do with storytelling than anything. If you only want to talk about a guy for an evening, why would you bother with TV?

Finally, while writing a TV show does mean you are "freed from the need to sell tickets," it does not mean you don't "have to swell to a crowd-pleasing gridiron drive." Instead of once in two hours, you have to do it every week. Instead of aiming for a big rush over a single weekend (when most movies make the majority of their profit), you have to consistently provide millions of eyeballs to the advertisers that pay for your show. You slip up or fail to catch on? Chances are you are going to get cut. There's rarely a second chance for shows on DVD. Patient distributors that are willing to let the movie sit in theatres for months while word of mouth builds. TV doesn't given shows the same opportunity to linger. New shows that don't provide a given audience or old shows that stop providing what they once used to disappear.

"I still occasionally hear someone say that they don't watch television," [Denis] Leary says, "and I always tell them, 'Look, I don't care what book you're reading—put it down and watch these five shows, because you really, truly don't know what you're missing'." Sure, Denis, and I could think of five shows off the top of my head too that prove TV is an important and worthwhile medium. But how many people do you meet who tell you that they never go the movies? Never hit up Blockbuster for a DVD? Yeah, Gordon and Leary, TV is good. But it isn't better. If Shakespeare was around today, Ira, he still wouldn't be creating TV series. He'd be making movies. If he had wanted to tell longer stories over time, he would have written novels.

La Règle du Jeu (1939)

Premise: André Jurieu (Roland Toutain) has just broken Charles Lindbergh's transatlantic record. He sadly discovers that only his friend Octave (Jean Renoir) is there to greet him and not his love, Christine (Nora Gregor). Christine is, instead, home with her husband, Robert (Marcel Dalio). Robert, in the meantime, is attempting to break off his affair with Geneviève (Mila Parély). When it appears that both these affairs will come to a head, Octave suggests bringing everyone to Robert's country castle for a hunting weekend as a distraction. While they are there, Lisette (Paulette Dubost), Christine's maid, gets into trouble when her husband, the groundskeeper (Gaston Modot), suspects her of adultery with another servant, Marceau (Julien Carette).

Recently, someone remarked that the difficulty of writing about baseball is avoiding making grand metaphors and tripping over clichés. To be honest, I find that statement equally applicable to writing about movies. There's a part of us, of me especially, that wants to find something in movies. To find something deeper. To find some truism that we can take with us when we leave. There is one in this movie, one line that not only explains the events of the movie but also the movie itself and manages to launch decades of filmmaking in the process. Everyone has their reasons. Simple, isn't it?

Director and co-writer Jean Renoir's early career masterpiece had me grinning like a fool at the screen. I was charmed. There wasn't a character, a line, a frame that Renoir didn't make come alive. The entire film was dazzling and dancing before me. It was impossible not to laugh at this sparkling comedy of manners. Even when things turned darker, it would have taken an iron will to turn your eyes away from the screen.

Add to this that fact that Renoir and co-writer Carl Koch have made it impossible to dislike a single character. Even when certain one became annoying, you still found something to like. Heck, even one woman's dedication to duplicity was delightful.

There was one character who spent most of his lines remarking on the rare qualities that he felt the Marquis possessed. Mostly, he thought the man had class. Despite the fact that its plot swirls around extramarital affairs, the same is true of the movie: charm and class all the way. Watching a movie as genius as this one is a bit like falling in love. A+

I could have done without the incessant prattle of a nearby couple, though. What is the matter with some people?

Pop Culture Round-Up XI

Lovely list. Number 9 especially.

Is this guy kidding? No Cliff?

Heh. Nice to know I'm not the only one.

Yeesh. Doesn't he realize that an interjection starts a sentence right?

I can't tell if the first or the last is the funniest.

Curse of the Golden Flower (2006)

Brief: Empress Phoenix (Gong Li) discovers that her husband, Emperor Ping (Chow Yun-Fat), has been slowly poisoning her. As the Chrysanthemum Festival approaches, the family (Jay Chou, Ye Liu, and Junjie Qin) gathers, and the Empress plots to remove her husband from the throne.

The credits informed me that the events in the movie were a conflation of real events, as well as some fiction. I don't know the fact from fiction, so I hope it doesn't matter too much in relation to what I have to say.

At first, I was really into this movie. It's stunning to look at, Li is a terrific actress when she's not speaking English phonetically, and I'm digging the whole palace intrigue thing. Plus, Yun-Fat's character is inscrutable in a way that's fun to watch, and Chou is super cute. Did I mention that it looks great?

Unfortunately - and this is the movie's great failing - the whole palace intrigue thing goes on for far too long. I wanted to see some fighting, but I was enjoying watching Li plot and trying to figure out what secrets would come out next. At a certain point, I stopped caring. The twists were so over the top that they became laughable. The lengthy reaction shots were borderline insufferable. When were we going to get to something good? You know, like well choreographed fighting?

When we finally did, it was superb to watch. The court intrigue finally came to a head, so people started dying! Hurrah!

And then, suddenly, the fighting is over, and the movie goes right back to making no sense. Oh, writer-director Yimou Zhang, you're not going to give this guy any motives whatsoever? Was I supposed to figure those when his flowing locks brilliantly un-spooled in the fight? No? I don't get to know? Okay, cool. Oh, and that's how it's going to end? Um, that's not really an ending. If anything, it raises more problems than we had when we started. Alright, then. Well, can Li at least have a fight scene of her own? I have a feeling she could kick totally ass. No? She just gets to wear a lot of gold. Sigh.

On one hand, I'm still not sure what the title or the ending meant. The plot came a bit unravelled. On the other hand, it's such a sumptuous journey for the eye that it's difficult to avoid being taken in. On the whole, it's not a bad way to spend an afternoon. B

The Departed (2006)

RE-view! It's so exiting (to me).

GIANT SPOILER WARNING: Plot details ahead! Please do not read this if you have yet to see the movie.

When I was reading reactions to the Academy Award nominations, I was discovered a 50-50 split regarding DiCaprio. Not that he was nominated, haters, but for which performance he was nominated. At the time, I thought Blood Diamond was a pretty solid choice: the character arc was proscribed, but it worked. He made it work. The character was so far down there was nowhere to go but up, and it ended the only way it could in order to complete his character's redemption.

But then I watched The Departed again. If you haven't seen it yet, you need to stop reading and go rent it. Don't worry -- I'll still be here when you get back. Never mind the fact that DiCaprio gives Costigan the animal ferocity of a cornered rat, beady eyed and swift. Costigan's struggle for redemption is astonishing. He grasps for it any place he can get it, and DiCaprio invests his search with such desperate need that your heart pounds in ears as you wait for him to get some measure of it. When he can't save Queenan, he turns around and tries to save Costello. You can see it even when he quietly tries to correct another crew member's spelling. He's too smart for any of it, but it's far too late. This was the performance for which he should have been nominated. C'mon, he does an accent here, too.

What a wonderful world of contrasts writer/adapter Monahan and Scorsese have set up for us. Costigan and Sullivan, Costello and Queenan, even Dignam and Ellerby. Despite that, nothing's black or white, merely the shade of grey that best suits the moment. All people trying to get what they need from each other, never articulating but always asking.

This is the big, beautiful America that Scorsese must believe in to keep making movies like this. It's scary and hella-violent. Nothing's fair or even. The victories are Pyrrhic, but they are victories nonetheless. The best you can do is keep going, take chances when they come.

I'm feeling good enough about this one to drop the minus this time around. A

The Last King of Scotland (2006)

Outline: Dr. Nicholas Garrigan (James McAvoy) travels from Scotland to Uganda upon graduation. He quickly moves from small clinic to Idi Amin's (Forrest Whitaker) personal doctor following Amin's coup. The life of luxury Amin offers quickly seduces the young doctor, but it also serves to blind him to Amin's brutality.

I had a problem with expectations. I don't think it was from any reviews that I may read many months ago. All the awards, the attention for Whitaker? That made me start to expect something. I started to expect the kind of something I would carry with me, turning it over in my mind as I examined it from all sides. I still do that from time to time with, say, Mysterious Skin. I realize that I only saw this movie on Friday and that perhaps I am judging it too harshly, but that's the problem with expectations, you see. You start to expect things, and, when you don't get them, you find yourself feeling a bit disappointed.

I wasn't, as it turned out, disappointed with Whitaker. Not in the slightest. But were we, collectively, under the impression that Whitaker was not an uniformly excellent actor before this turn? I'm wary to describe the character because there's a perfect one sentence summary late in the film. I recall reading about the way Whitaker gets you the same way Amin gets Garrigan: you feel drawn to his warm presence, then he turns on a dime and lashes out in intense rage. That's exactly the way it goes down, and Whitaker acts the hell out of his role. But I found myself thinking, what's the big deal? I knew too much about the role to be able to completely lose sight of the monster lurking inside the charming boy. Now that I write that down, I can see that that is the genius of Whitaker's performance. He plays the role as though Amin barely knows himself what he is capable of until he is doing it. It's perhaps the most terrifying glimpse I've seen into a man who would be king.

It's too bad that Whitaker is getting all this attention, leaving the ostensible protagonist and his portrayer in the dust. It's through Garrigan and his lens that we approach the story. McAvoy does a lot considering the wilful naïvety of the good doctor, and it is to his credit that he can hold his own in his scenes with Whitaker.

It is to director Kevin Macdonald's credit that he allows for such studied silences. I was struck by how score-less this movie was. There were moments when I thought that a less confident director or less confident producers would have underscored the hell out of the scene. Macdonald didn't. He let you feel it for yourself.

It's too bad that the first act was so mind-bogglingly slow. I was desperate for the story to move along. It builds to a stunning climax in the airport - thrilling tension then. Worth the wait. B+

Notes on a Scandal (2006)

Premise: Barbara (Judi Dench) has decided to take the new art teacher, Sheba (Cate Blanchett), under her wing. While their friendship develops, Sheba also develops a relationship with one of her 15 year-old pupils (Andrew Simpson). When Barbara discovers what Sheba has been up to, she decides to take advantage of the opportunity instead of reporting her.

Wouldn't it be great if you could see a movie with not one but two juicy roles for women? And two amazing actresses would play those roles, and they would constantly engage each other on the screen, never competing but making each other better?

Then see this movie because that's what you'll get. Yay! What a wonderful year 2006 was for the actress!

I must admit, I was excited when I saw Patrick Marber's name flash across the screen. Remembering the brilliant yet maddening Closer, I also recalled that it was Blanchett that was originally set to play Anna. I spent a few moments wishing I had seen Cate and Clive together, but I'll have to wait. Besides, Marber's devious and stunning screenplay demanded my full attention, much like his protagonists.

Dench has cornered the market on playing frosty upper-class women of a certain age, able to disdainfully shut down conversations and conversational partners with the slightest flick of her eye. Here, however, she was something else entirely. Her Barbara is a ghastly creation, delusional and pathetic. Her flinty eyes have never been put to greater use, carefully taking in and scornfully judging those around her, blind to the way she sows the seeds of her own downfall. At first I was concerned that she would never get her comeuppance, but then I saw it. Marber's justice is far more poetic than the courts.

And, ah, Blanchett. What a resplendent beauty she possesses. Sheba's tremulous in her first moments, confident in her seduction, and maniacally undone by her only friend's machinations. She's never better than when she's trying to justify her affair, desperately sputtering out clichés like "But he's mature for his age!" Blanchett keeps it all in check, though. She makes it clear that Sheba knows his "maturity" doesn't make the slightest bit of difference.

Special props to Simpson and Bill Nighy, as Sheba's older husband. Simpson acts like an ordinary teen, not an adult trapped in a child's body, and it's obvious that his character is well on his way to being a heart-breaker. Nighy's a rock star in my mind, and he's awesome as his character's annoyance gradually increases. He even included one of his classic snorts in his big scene.

Philip Glass, let's talk. You know I adore you, and I think your score adds emotional resonance to any scene, but you didn't think this was a little redundant? A little too The Hours? No, okay. Just thought I'd bring it up. Too bad you weren't nominated for the other one, though. That was something worth celebrating.

So, director Richard Eyre, my hat's off to you. None of this would have come together quite so well without you at the helm. You are an assured and perceptive director, and I think you have something of a masterpiece on your hands. A

In other news, Marty took home top honours from the DGA, which looks very good indeed.

Pop Culture Round-Up X

Little Miss Sunshine continues to build momentum by picking up top honours at the SAG Awards .

Tell someone else what pop culture cornerstones they should pick up.

Catch up on your Marty trivia.

A somewhat peevish but satisfying Crosstalk on the big v. small screen debate.

Again, a peevish but amusing list. Plus, they're not wrong.

Rock. Spot on.