Pop Culture Round Up: February 21 - 27

But how do you ask questions?

Good for them.

I can't saw I ever thought much about this (confession: I don't have an mp3 player. I used to, then my headphones broke, then it broken, then I realized I prefer to hear the world around me most of the time when I'm out walking, which is pretty much the only time I used it), but I am glad that there is a solution. There's no reason to be denied your Prokofiev.

Holy shit, harsh! Sometimes criticism is crisis really gets me down.

Heh.

Watchmen guide for the uninitiated. Next Friday still seems so far away.

"Greenfield warns social networking sites are changing children's brains, resulting in selfish and attention deficient young people."

Was this an unknown previously?

Finally. What was his problem?

Yay! I can only assume that awesomeness will result.

This week in greatest things ever: Vladimir Putin releases judo instruction DVD.

Good, they should.

The answer is Conchords.

Nine! That's just fine by me.

Hee!

Why?

If I knew how to contact Kenneth Clark, I would mail this to his racist ass.

I don't see this happening, but it's a great rumour.

Top 10 of 2008

With 58 movies to choose from, you'd think this list would be difficult to write. Considering the fact that a mere 14 fell in the A range and not a one received an A +, it appears that I am not going soft, as I suspected. While 2008 was no 2007, what was good was really, genuinely, easy-to-spot good.

N.B. Having seen neither Wall-E nor Man on Wire, neither appear on this list. That's not a knock against either. I just haven't seen them, which puts them out of the running.

10. Tropic Thunder
"Seven years have lapsed between this and the highly quotable Zoolander. If it takes another seven years to get a parody of this quality, one that is this smart, silly, and fun, we'll wait."

9. Milk
"There's something so sweet and innocent and daring about a man who can look at his life at 40, thinking nothing of it, and decide to do something about that."

8. Waltz with Bashir
"Waltz with Bashir is one of the most beautiful movies about death I have ever seen: death to self, to country, to memory."

7. The Wrestler
"Thanks to a fantastic -- though occasionally too on the nose -- script from Robert D. Seigel, this movie is really the resurrection of Aronofsky. Or, rather, the renaissance of Aronofsky as a director."

6. Let the Right One In
"It's to both Alfredson and Linqvist's credit that the answers don't come easy. Instead we're kept off kilter in a world that happens just outside the boundary of normal, that presses in on all sides without ever quite crossing over."

5. In Bruges
"McDonagh's story of guilt, retribution, and spiritual awakening clinches on a dead priest and a midget filming a dream sequence. It's hilariously sad."

4. Slumdog Millionaire
"Working in tandem with gorgeous, sensual, and richly textured work from cinematographer Anthony Dod Mantle and the surprisingly subtle screen adaptation from Simon Beaufoy, Boyle and Tandan have nothing short of magic on their hands."

3. The Dark Knight
"Yes, it's very dark. It's downright bleak. But it is also exactly how it has to be. Nolan executes exactly what he needs to without hesitation or remorse. It's the kind of filmmaking that, despite how dark it is, inspires."

2. Rachel Getting Married
"It's as real as any movie in recent memory and more so, for Jonathan Demme delicately picks up Jenny Lumet's screenplay and weaves colour, texture, and life into her carefully selected words."

1. Entre les murs (The Class)
"In his diverse class (a mix of African, Asian and Middle Eastern immigrants with a few French thrown in), in his role of bringing the kids out, Bégaudeau faces challenges, some of which he meets, some of which he exceeds, and some of which he falls short. It takes courage to recognize this, and afterward you realize that you have witnessed something rare."

Honourable mentions go to Mongol and Iron Man, which were narrowly beat out for a spot on the list. Now, what will 2009 bring?

Oscar Wrap Up (2009)

Around the time that Kate picked up her Oscar (finally, even if she is only 33), I got a little worried. I was four for four, and, by my track record, either Mickey Rourke or Slumdog Millionaire would have to go down. Even though I would have loved to have seen yet another deranged speech from Mr. Rourke (and where the dogs in all this?), I was relieved when Penn took the podium (Rourke's his brother, apparently). Slumdog's win was secure.

As was Anthony Dod Mantle's, who may have taken home the most deserving statuette last night. Sure, Philippe Petit was adorable when he rushed the stage and balanced Oscar on his chin, but, really, is there anything better than Mantle's collaboration with Boyle? Maybe his hair?

While I loved Kate's dad's whistle, my award for best acceptance speech is going to Dustin Lance Black. It was beautiful, moving, and simple. That he happens to be so cute and youthful didn't hurt either.

Pattinson did not bite anyone during the show (though I feared in particular for Rourke, who was seated directly in front of the young vampire). Seriously, though, even Troy made a crack about his pallor. I wouldn't be surprised if being perpetually in character was part of his particular brand of crazy.

Pluses: great hosting by Jackman (but where did he disappear to after half time?); the presentation by committee plan worked out (loved the endless movement that went with Angelica Huston's little speech -- apparently she's too va va voom to stand still; loved Swinton for wearing separates and Maclaine for wearing pants); a lovely, moving speech from Ledger's family; the Pineapple Express interlude complete with singing; Jerry Lewis; Angelina's emeralds; Marion Colltiard, as always I hope; Tina Fey, as always for reals; Penélope Cruz's dress; Penélope Cruz, just generally; Viola Davis's dress; Taraji P. Henson's dress; Ben Stiller's Joaquin Phoenix impersonation if only because it may, as Dana hopes, serve as proof that it's all a put-on; my boyfriend Robert Downey Jr, now and forever.

Negatives: the salute to musicals; the salutes to genres; the inability for the camera to show us people's names during the dead people montage; watching Po trying to eat a dumpling at the bottom of the screen during everything ever; figuring out who those two people about to kiss were and then promptly forgetting; getting distracted by said kissing; SJP's dress; Winslet's dress; the general dreariness of the dresses, actually; no Javier Bardem with Penélop Cruz; Meryl Streep's dress; Reese Witherspoon's dress; Reese Witherspoon's make up; Frida Pinto's dress.

All in all, a decent night. Now if someone will only start mass marketing Wall-E crock pots.

Oscar Round Up (2009)

Let's do this thing. View full list of nominees.

Performance by an actress in a supporting role

Amy Adams in Doubt
Penélope Cruz in Vicky Cristina Barcelona
Viola Davis in Doubt
Taraji P. Henson in The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
Marisa Tomei in The Wrestler

I didn't mention Henson at all in my review of Button or say much about Tomei in The Wrestler. It's not that either of them don't deserve consideration. They are both great in their respective roles (though it's hard to pick out exactly what's meant to be so extraordinary about Henson's work. Tomei manages to imbue the old stripper with a heart of gold trope with an earthiness that grounds the character). I mention these things because I don't think either one is going to win. Instead, that'll go to . . .

Who will win: Cruz. Which is fine by me, as she is by far the spark that makes the movie come alive.
Who should win: From the list, Davis. She gets more across in her ten minutes of screen time than most other actors can in an entire movie. I hope she wears something fantastic tomorrow night. Going outside the list, Debra Winger and Rosemarie Dewitt for Rachel Getting Married.

Performance by an actress in a leading role

Anne Hathaway in Rachel Getting Married
Angelina Jolie in Changeling
Melissa Leo in Frozen River
Meryl Streep in Doubt
Kate Winslet in The Reader

Do you think Streep ever saw Hathaway as competition when they were making The Devil Wears Prada? While I doubt that Streep thinks that way, I doubt she would have if she did. While it's great to see something as small as Frozen River up there and a great character actress like Leo on the list, that's as far as she'll get. Jolie's nod feels like par for the course, and, though Hathaway deserves it for shedding her lingering Princess Dairies shimmer and bringing something truly revelatory to the screen, she's not really much of a contender. It's a Streep-Winslet grudge match.

Who will win: Winslet.
Who should win: Hathaway.

Performance by an actor in a supporting role

Josh Brolin in Milk
Robert Downey Jr. in Tropic Thunder
Philip Seymour Hoffman in Doubt
Heath Ledger in The Dark Knight
Michael Shannon in Revolutionary Road

Since this category's been a foregone conclusion for months, let's take a moment to note how unimaginative it is. Downey, sure, but why not go whole hog and put Cruise up there? Ledger, yes, but let's not forget about Eckhart. Harvey Dent made that movie. What about a little something for Michael Sheen? Brolin deserves it for waking up a couple of years ago and deciding to knock every one's socks off, and Shannon deserves it most of all for breathing such life into the holy fool trope that the role became that movie's lightening rod.

Who will win: Ledger.
Who should win: Ledger. That's right. If that's the list you're going to give me, that's how I vote. It's a stunning performance, and those who suggest otherwise is just looking to be contrary.

Performance by an actor in a leading role

Richard Jenkins in The Visitor
Frank Langella in Frost/Nixon
Sean Penn in Milk
Brad Pitt in The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
Mickey Rourke in The Wrestler

Much like Leo on the leading lady list, it's nice to see some recognition for a consummate character actor like Jenkins. He won't win, but it'll be great to see him there. Langella should have won last year for Starting out in the Evening, and I doubt the Academy is going to rectify that this year. Same goes for Pitt's work in The Assassination of Jesse James. Which leaves us with showdown between Penn, playing a truly likable character that he refuses to allow to slip into caricature, and Rourke, whose crazy Oscar campaign only underlines want an amazing feat his raw performance truly was. This is the closest race of the bunch.

Who will win: Rourke.
Who should win: Rourke. Why not? Also, Robert Downey Jr for Iron Man, Christian Bale for The Dark Knight, François Bégaudeau for Entre les murs . . .

Achievement in Directing and Best Motion Picture of the Year

We've got five for five this year, and, as I have said in the past, it's hard to talk about one and not the other.

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, David Fincher
Frost/Nixon, Ron Howard
Milk, Gus Van Sant
The Reader, Stephen Daldry
Slumdog Millionaire, Danny Boyle

I've seen and reviewed all these movies, so I'm just going to call it.

Who will win: Boyle, Slumdog Millionaire
Who should win: Boyle, Slumdog Millionaire. Neither it nor him fit the "little indie that could" bill that has been applied during its campaign, but it's the best of the bunch. I sincerely hope that Anthony Dod Mantle wins for cinematography as well. Love that man. This year, I think that means something. The only upset I can see is in favour of the Van Sant/Milk combo.

I'll tell you what, though. I will laugh and laugh if I get this all wrong.

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (2008)

Finally! One day to go, and I can now official say that I have seen all of the movies up for Best Picture. It's nice to cross this one off the list.

That said, it's . . . alright. I'd like to say that it's more than that, but it's not really. While the scope of director David Fincher and screenwriter Eric Roth's adaptation of the Fitzgerald short story is epic, nothing about the finished product really is. Fincher continues to be one of the most exciting visual directors working today, and while Brad Pitt and Cate Blanchett turn in fine performances as Benjamin Button and his true love Daisy, there's nothing in the emotional payout or the story to earn the label of epic.

Part of the problem is that the formula the plot line follows bears more than a little resemblance to Roth's previous Academy favourite, Forrest Gump. Which, when thought about objectively, is nothing more than an alright movie itself: a likable protagonist in unlikely circumstances set against major events across the 20th century and with a circuitous love story running through the middle. And yet, the best part of movie occurs when Pitt and Blanchett are finally freed up to be their approximate ages instead of covered in prosthetics and make up (for the record, her youth make up is far more impressive than his old man make up). I imagine it's difficult to fully inhabit a character who is also a construct.

The decision to move the story to New Orleans seems a strange one as well. They use the beautiful old city admirably, but using Katrina as a framing device is questionable at the very least. Factoring in that poor Julia Ormand, reading the story to her mother on her deathbed, has to learn and digest two idiotic decisions in short order, and it feels, at the very least, unsettling. Confidential to the producers: maybe you could have gotten her some blue contacts? Just a little biology related thought.

At the end of the day, it's Fincher and Roth's refusal to draw any conclusions or apply anything more than a broad "life is sad sometimes" moral to their story that stops it short of being the epic they were obviously seeking to create. It's certainly a technical masterpiece. Maybe next time they can remember the heart. B-

Pop Culture Round Up: February 14 - 20

Sort of a slow week if you want to read something other than Oscar coverage.

"Americans have developed an admirable fondness for books, food, and music that preprocess other cultures. But for all our enthusiasm, have we lost our taste for the truly foreign?"

I'm a little sick of this.

Oh, c'mon. This is just too much. It's on purpose, I am sure of it.

Mystery solved!

I'm pretty sure the answer is, "Maybe?"

If you think about which you have gone without longer, the results seem obvious.

Now that is a tradition worth remembering.

First a bidding war over Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, and now this? This is what happens when copyright can't protect you anymore.

Three does make a trend.

Type fonts are cool, and so is his photo.

Heh. I'm often outraged by the same thing.

Holy crap! That makes sense, and it's probably an unsinkable series, but seriously, what is the matter with that studio? Will they hire Catherine back? Will they hire me? It's my favourite of the books!

Waltz with Bashir (2008)

Waltz with Bashir is one of the most beautiful movies about death I have ever seen: death to self, to country, to memory. The animation technique layers the characters, the scenery, the background players, so it's at once alive and surreal. It's also the first animated documentary I've ever seen.

I'm not entirely certainly I should be calling it a documentary (semi-documentary? auto-documentary? fact-based animated head trip?). Writer-director-star Ari Folman can't remember when he went to war in Lebanon back in 1982 at the age of 19. Well, that's not entirely true. He remembers swimming.

Folman looks up fellow soldiers, commanding officers, a reporter, and he gets bits and pieces of what he's long repressed: a solider who could only kill dogs, the scent of patchouli, a waltz with assassinated President Bahsir Gemayel. Some of them don't appreciate his digging things up. No one remembers the swim.

The movie comes back to it, over and over again, like a wave overtaking his memory every time he manages to build up something substantial. Folman's sure he went swimming during the Sabra and Shatila massacre even if no one else remembers it. Why can't he remember the massacre itself when he was only two hundred yards or less away, he asks his psychiatrist friend.

Your parents were in a concentration camp, weren't they?

Yes.

Well, there you have it.

When the final frames suddenly snap from animation into newsreel, it doesn't carry the shock it was meant to because the last exchange is too ponderous. What does that mean? It's presented as though Folman has experienced some sort of Holocaust of the mind: he can no sooner understand what his parents went through than he can imagine what happened to the Palestinians. So he went swimming. His mind's on a vacation. It took the conclusion with it. A-

The Wrestler (2008)

If I gave my reviews subtitles, this one would be called "Darren Aronofsky Grows Up."

The Wrestler is a strange movie to watch because it's almost the reverse of what the trailer suggests. That's not a bad thing, and it's not that the trailer is misleading, exactly. If anything, the trailer only gives you half the story. It's not about a man with a crappy life who gets a shot at a second chance professionally. It's about a man with a crappy life who gets a shot at a second chance professionally and a shot at a second chance personally and has to choose between them.

A lot has been made of this movie as the resurrection of Mickey Rourke, who plays the eponymous character, and it should be. No person seems more ideally suited to the story of a man who abused his body and fell spectacularly from the limelight. As Randy "The Ram" Robinson, Rourke makes the combination of contrition and obliviousness particularly devastating. It's hard to put yourself on the right track when you have no idea what that track looks like.

More importantly, thanks to a fantastic -- though occasionally too on the nose -- script from Robert D. Seigel, this movie is really the resurrection of Aronofsky. Or, rather, the renaissance of Aronofsky as a director. His previous movies hold little rewatch value for one reason or another, but in this case he manages to sidestep his tendency toward vagueness in the search for meaning and instead focuses on his characters to drive the drama. Working for the first time with cinematographer Maryse Alberti, Aronofsky abandons tricky camera work for quiet details that dot Randy's wrestling gigs across Jersey, the strip club with the dancer Randy's sweet on (Marisa Tomei), and his college aged daughter's home (Evan Rachel Wood). His sense of place is more present than ever before, and it gives the story a gritty reality that hits home nearly every time. A

Oh, and Bruce Springsteen? Was robbed.

Pop Culture Round Up: February 7-13

BAFTA winners.

WGA winners.

Criticism in crisis: why review?

Sad. Peel her a grape, angels.

Yeah, we were written before, people. Totally not cashing in.

I wouldn't normally link to a list like this, but some of my favourites are on it.

Tell 'em, Emma!

Ah, Dana. That closing paragraph is why I love you.

What the hell? How have I been missing this?

Six? Did we see the same movie?

"One year later, the evidence is clear: The WGA strike crippled the film and TV biz."

Aw.

Orchestras inspired by Soloist to do good deeds. Aww.

I find that his friend at the screening does a better job of explicating why The Reader shouldn't win than Ron Rosenbaum does for the majority of the article though I agree that the character lacks any real show of remorse.

Important question.

Isn't the book not due out until April, though? At any rate, they should hire me. I would rock that shit.

That would be a difficult list to create.

Whoa. I can't even imagine.

Does anyone just feel 'meh' about him at this point? Also, the topic seems a little uninspired. Wouldn't something about rounding up certain key players in the Iraq war for war crimes be a more exciting, left-wing topic?

Here's two ideas you don't see together every day: William Shatner ballet.

All these new ideas are . . . not worrying, exactly. Questionable. Yes, I have questions. How will I know who designed the dress unless some interchangeable E! host asks the starlet?

All of this just really makes me love her more. Please, please write a tell all. I would pre-order that mother.

Woman after my own heart.

I don't usually make a point of linking to these things as I would end up linking to them every freakin' week, but I found this one in particular to vibrate with a love of film. I find that Scott Tobias gets that way when he writes about Soderbergh, and it makes me wish he would write a book about him.

Aw, don't blame yourself, James. Either he's crazy or he's an idiot, but you're not responsible for either. You are a wonderful director.

Let the Right One In (2008)

Premise: A lonely 12 year-old boy, Oskar (Kåre Hedebrant), befriends the new girl in his apartment complex, Eli (Lina Leandersson). He needs her help to stand up to bullying, but, given that she's a vampire, her help might not be for the best.

Director Tomas Alfredson, working from John Ajvide Lindqvist's adaptation of his own novel, evokes a cold, oppressed atmosphere for this meditation on the nature and requirements of friendship. It's a strange movie, full of fuzzy close ups meant to keep you off-kilter. It's also remarkably smart, establishing certain relationships with a single glance and keeping others contained unbearably long.

Hedebrant gives a heartbreakingly vulnerable turn as a kid who is, perhaps, too trusting for his own good. The lovely Leandersson mirrors his work with a world-weariness that only serves to shadow how lonely Eli truly is as well.

It's to both Alfredson and Linqvist's credit that the answers don't come easy. Whether Oskar and Eli's friendship is good for either of them is not for the filmmakers to judge, it would seem. Instead, like the close ups, we're kept off kilter in a world that happens just outside the boundary of normal, that presses in on all sides without ever quite crossing over. Oskar lives his life in the margins, and his salvation comes from the same place. Whether that salvation has its place in grand scheme remains in question. A-

Sidebar: I know that this movie is set in the 80s, but were there no child supervision laws in Sweden at that time? Damn.

Pop Culture Round Up: January 31 - February 6

DGA winners.

I don't know why exactly but heh.

"The nominations of a still relatively little-seen crop of best-picture contenders are making it harder for producers of the Oscar ceremony to deliver on an earlier promise: to create a big night for the movies, even if some of the movies are not so big." You know, I never used to think one way or the other about whether the movies nominated were seen or unseen, but she does have a point. What makes you tune in if the only movie if you are likely to have seen is Wall-E? You already know and like Wall-E. You don't need the Academy to tell you that.

Also, heh. I'm buying a Group of Seven work when my ship comes in just to be contrary. Or maybe I'll get cute Geoffrey Farmer to do an installation. I suppose that would be selling out, though, so maybe that wouldn't work. Good thing no actual ship is on the horizon with all these decisions to make.

This is true, and I can get behind it. I'd personally like it if we had shorter seasons but more seasons throughout the year.

This link pretty much exists for the last line. Could you imagine what mincemeat Don Draper (name must be said in full) would make of Edward? Edward could be his new Pete, actually, now that Pete seems to be on his way up (or dead, or down). I love that show.

And this one exists pretty much for the headline.

Oh, dear. This does not suggest good things for my future.

This dramatic thriller and its casting strike me as better suited to a comedy.

You'll never guess who Clint Eastwood's best partnership is with!

Really? That doesn't seem right.

"Indeed, Disney said its CEO decided to forgo an additional bonus of $2.4 million as a gesture of good will." Generosity!

At first I balked, but I think I get this. It's cocktail party fodder.

Heh. Dude, you so don't get it.

"I don't have a message." That's good to know. Also, of course.

Alright, I don't want to spend a lot of time on the thing that you've been hearing and seeing all week, so you get this and this. But that's it.

Backlash to the backlash: "Some say the Oscar contender is 'poverty porn,' but that criticism misconstrues the nature of art."

Okay, I totally want this, especially if it a) contains insults about the source material or b) is secretly a tell-all. Would it be too much to hope for both?

Heh: my friend sent me a link to this for the headline.

I know this one! I know this one! Is the answer, "Yes, for pete's sake, kill it and put us all out of our misery?"

Ugh, why? I mean, I know why, but still.

This casting has blown my mind.

Meanwhile, at the Church And State Fair, Maeby was signing up for the inner beauty pagaent.

Behold the beauty of my latest Culture article! But no, I am not going to link to it because you need to behold the beauty of our entirely redesigned website! That's right, friends, check it out, and I am sure you will easily find your way to my thoughts about quotable movie lines. As for Miss Smartypants, she is excitingly moving to a weekly format, so you can read her lovely advice every Monday! Keep sending those questions to advice@culturemagazine.ca.

Entre les murs (The Class) (2008)

Premise: A year in the classroom of a grade nine French teacher (François Bégaudeau).

It's going to be hard to sell you on the movie based on that premise, but it would be disingenuous to say that there's more than that. There is, there's so much more; but to the plot, there isn't. This is one of the bravest movies I have ever seen.

Writing a memoir, co-writing the screenplay based on said memoir, and starring in the adaptation sounds like a massive ego trip. For Bégaudeau and co-writer and director Laurent Cantet, it's not. It takes courage to look at a situation, to point out its flaws (apathetic students, frustrated teachers, institutional racism), and to say that you are also responsible. The big confrontation, if you can call it that, seems to arise out of nowhere, and any hope of resolution disappears just as quickly. Moreover, Bégaudeau is at least partially at fault, and the way he frames the issue and its solution to his class in the courtyard, to his fellow teachers in the staff lounge, and to the principal in his office makes compromise look futile.

Bégaudeau and Cantet make of all this matter not with explosive acting, sad back stories, or a shocking death the way that American filmmakers would have. They establish it slowly through rhythm, the back and forth between Bégaudeau and his students as he engages them, fights them, corrects them, inspires them, and sometimes fails them. Instead of being stultifying, it feels so real and natural that you'd think you were watching a documentary. The camera is only in place to bear witness not to call attention to anything or to present a point of view. It's Bégaudeau's story, but it's not about him. It has less to do with the notion the English translation of the title is trying to push -- class as people -- and everything to do with class as place, where there is a definite limit to what is and is not a part of it, a limit set in place to allow the students to learn but one that also limits how much a teacher can do.

It's strange that at no time does this movie feel like a mea culpa. Bégaudeau's not offering excuses nor is he apologizing. That he is culpable is not denied. In his diverse class (a mix of African, Asian and Middle Eastern immigrants with a few French thrown in played by young, non-actors using their own first names), in his role of bringing the kids out, he faces challenges, some of which he meets, some of which he exceeds, and some of which he falls short. It takes courage to recognize this, and afterwards you realize that you have witnessed something rare. A