p.s. (2004)

Brief: Louise Harrington (Laura Linney), who works for Admissions at the Columbia School of Fine Arts, happens upon an application from a young man, F. Scott Feinstadt (Topher Grace), who shares the name, lexicon, and voice of her deceased high school sweetheart. When she invites him in for an interview, she discovers that he also shares his face and his talent. Louise immediately embarks on a sexual relationship with F. Scott (as he is called, for reasons ridiculous). Her best friend, Missy (Marcia Gay Harden), appears to test this discovery of Louise's. At the same time, she deals with revelations from her ex-husband (Gabriel Byrne) and her recovering addict brother (Paul Rudd).

I feel like I am finally out from under the heap of uninspiring movies that has been plaguing me for some time now. It's not that I've stopped watching movies, but I have stopped consuming them with the same ferocious appetite that I used to, mostly because the movies I was seeing were just too dull to merit mentioning. I had to dive back into some of my old favourites (e.g. say anything) to keep from giving up entirely. Alas, I had already reviewed the ones I watched, so we were stuck in a state of reviewing limbo.

How quickly a trip to the Bytowne can change all of that! I watched two good movies this week-end, and enough of another to whet my appetite for a trip to Blockbuster.

Linney delivers another fantastic performance. It made me want to shout, "Give her the damn Oscar already!", although she strikes me as the kind of actress who doesn't worry about things like that. Sure, her performance here isn't as Oscar-worthy as, say, her work in 2000's You Can Count on Me, but I think she just deserves one by now. Linney can be so hard and brittle one minute, and her eyes can fill up with a long forgotten innocence the next. She gets me every time because, despite her tiny movie-star frame and stunning beauty, she always, above all, seems like a real woman, with real emotions and reactions.

Where has Grace been hiding? Under some forsaken sitcom rock? Let him out, casting agents! Another performance that made me want to shout - although, in this case, I wanted to shout, "Eat it, Kutcher!" (thanks, Em!) because Grace is just so much better. I think neither he nor director/writer Dylan Kidd put much thought into the idea that F. Scott might be using Louise to get into art school, which is a sub-plot or counter-plot that could have given his character more emotional weight. He was capable of much more depth than has been previously imagined, although his delivery was a little too sitcom-y at points. Even so, bonus points for the hotness of two different coloured eyes.

Marica Gay Harden. I had to use her whole name there to send that message across. What a fantastic talent she is. She can seem so emotional fragile in one movie (last year's glorious Mystic River), and here she is a towering giant of a woman. Missy isn't the best best friend, but you can quickly see what Louise sees in her.

Two things occurred to me when I saw this movie:

1) Gabriel Byrne is possibly the poor man's Sean Penn. At least he seemed that way to me in the scenes he shared with Linney (again, see Mystic River to understand where I am coming from).

2) Arm cuffs/wrist bands - or whatever you call them - are just the lazy costumer's way of indicating that the character is an agnsty/misunderstood artist/bad-ass. Witness Mark Ruffalo in You Can Count on Me, Ryan on the o.c., or Jess on Gilmore Girls. I'm going to be watching very closely come Thursday to make sure that the o.c.'s Alex is sporting one. Honestly, though, I haven't thought of arm bands/wrist cuffs as anything short of mainstream for about four years now. Costume designers have got to get out sometime to see what the kids are wearing these days. Or just keep using leather jackets, à la James Dean. No one's on to that one yet.

Overall, as much as I enjoyed the movie while I watched it, it didn't stick with me longer than half an hour. Dylan Kidd's good, but he's not quite great yet. B+

Bride of the Wind (2001)

Idea: The story of Alma Mahler's (Sarah Wynter) many love affairs: her first husband, composer Gustav Mahler (Jonathan Pryce); expressionist painter Oskar Kokoschka (Vincent Perez); architect Walter Gropius (Simon Verhoeven); and writer Franz Werfel (Gregor Seburg).

I've wanted to see this movie since OAC, when I first listened to Gustav Mahler's music. I was always supposed to tell Mr. Nicholas what I thought of the movie, and I am sure that I will should I ever see him again.

The title, taken from one of Kokoschka's paintings of the two lovers, fills the movie with much more promise than it can deliver.

Wynter, who I rather enjoyed as Kate on the second season of 24, is so very disappointing here. It occurs to me now that I may have just liked Kate because she understood the show's underlying principle of "trust in Jack." Here, however, Wynter gave me no reason to care about what happened to Alma at any point. Her Alma was basically a big ho. She hopped right into bed with a number of men, and then would suddenly claim that they were "stifling" her. The problem was that the audience had no evidence that Alma was being stifled except once. In that case, there were multiple ways she could have gotten around it, so she really didn't have any reason to be so angry. Wynter's Alma was beautiful and out-spoken enough to understand why she initially attracted so many men but never clever or cunning enough to understand how she kept them or herself, for that matter. She was just boring.

As was pretty much the rest of the movie, except for maybe Perez's Kokoschka. Everyone kept referring to Alma's as so passionate (while I found her terribly dull and overly naked), but Perez actually had the goods to carry that title. Kokoschka also most seemed like the one who least tried to "stifle" her in anyway, and he, in my opinion, suffered the most for it.

Although director Bruce Beresford has had some success in his past (Driving Miss Daisy, And Starring Pancho Villa as Himself), he's also had some stupendous clunkers (Her Alibi, Last Dance). This movie falls into the latter category. Given such an exciting premise, Beresford just can seem to get this movie off the ground.

Of course, he can share the blame with Marilyn Levy, who wrote the somewhat insane dialogue. Levy, after all, is the one who had Alma constantly proclaiming about how "stifling" she felt it all to be. I find consolation in the fact that she hasn't written anything else before or since.

I've said it before, and I'm going to have to say it again. If the movie can't give you a reason to care, it has failed its audience. D

White Squall (1996)

Plan: In the fall of 1960, Charles Gieg (Scott Wolf) boards the Albatross, a school ship, captained by ‘Skipper’ Sheldon (Jeff Bridges). While learning to sail, the boys are schooled in sciences by the Skipper’s wife, Alice (Caroline Goodall), and in English by McCrea (John Savage). Discipline and camaraderie are the basis of the teaching, and Chuck bonds with rich-kid Frank (Jeremy Sisto), acrophobic Gil (Ryan Phillippe), and diver Dean (Eric Michael Cole). All is going well until the Albatross is caught in a white squall, six people die, and a disciplinary committee seeks to take the Skipper’s ticket.

I felt I could tell you all of that without ruining the movie because it’s based on a true story. In fact, Todd Robinson’s screenplay is based on the book, The Last Voyage of the Albatross by Charles Gieg, Jr. and Felix Sutton. I would think that Chuckster would know what was going on since he was there. Don’t know about this Felix character, though.

Although Robinson’s narration portions, also done by Wolf, are filled with the kind of heavy handed language and literary style that doesn’t sound much like a 17 year-old boy, it does reflect the kind of wisdom and gravitas Gieg may have possessed years later, so I will let that part slide.

Otherwise, Robinson’s script captures all the mocking and rivalry of teenage boy friendship without becoming insensitive of the topic. It’s especially difficult to create something compelling out of something that must have been so well known in the its day, but Robinson and director Ridley Scott rise to the challenge by saving the squall and court for the end, focusing instead on what happens between the crew members before hand.

Scott’s a funny guy. That’s what I always think when I think of his movies (e.g. Gladiator, Thelma & Louise, Black Hawk Down, Blade Runner). He’s the kind of meticulous director who decides before hand how a scene should be, and then he shoots it until he gets want he wants. Smart move, if you’ve got the talent to pull it off. Scott, though sometimes a little misguided, has got the goods.

He works especially well with his leading men (ignoring the growingly vapid, Keanu-clone Josh Hartnett), although who wouldn’t with Bridges? Sure, everyone’s all about him now for The Door in the Floor, but Jeff’s pretty much been a director’s dream since the start. He generally tears into his roles with gusto, and this film is no exception. The Skipper’s a strong and hard man, the kind, as Gieg observes, that “makes you want to please him.”

Plus, I really like Bridges’ weird and instantly identifiable voice.

It’s great to see the eternally youthful Wolf (already a mature 27 when this movie was made) frolicking about with Sisto, Phillippe before he was an ass, and Cole, as well as goodies like Ethan Embry, David Lascher, and Jason Marsden.

I’m not going to lie. As much as a joke as the end has become among those in the know, I still cry every time Frank rings that bell. B+

The Aviator (2004)

Premise: Following the life of Howard Hughes (Leonardo DiCaprio), aviator and film producer who was as known for romancing starlets such as Katherine Hepburn (Cate Blanchett) and Ava Gardner (Kate Beckinsale) as he was for aeronautic advances. Despite his encroaching madness, Hughes took on PanAm head Juan Trippe (Alec Baldwin) and Senator Ralph Owen Brewster (Alan Alda) to put an end to an attempt to monopolize the sky.

I just want to comment that it has been very difficult for me to avoid press about a movie I have been anticipating since June. That said -

Vindication! That's my first feeling. Vindication on so many levels. First and foremost - DiCaprio. I did my best to conceal the favour I had long ago bestowed on him when it became unpopular to like him as an actor. Still I held on, and now vindication is mine. Hughes would have been nothing but a whiny germaphobe in a lesser actor's hands. DiCaprio may not possess the sheer physical presence of Hughes, but he is the only actor I could think of that could say to a lowly cigarette girl "I want to know what pleases you", turn her into Jean Harlow (Gwen Stefani), and not walk away from the whole thing dripping in slime. Watching his sinewy body caress the curves of planes and women is something else. Nothing can compare, though, to seeing him take on Juan Trippe across the dinne table with fiery passion, only to become trapped in the men's room when he cannot bring himself to turn the door handle. DiCaprio is devastating.

And again! Vindication for never liking Beckinsale. Maybe it was her sweet but lackluster performance as Hero is Kenneth Brannagh's sun-soaked, Tuscan Much Ado About Nothing, or maybe it was something else. Somewhere along the way, I decided that Beckinsale was terrible. And I am right - that was the worst Ava Gardner I have ever seen. I saw Beckinsale on Oprah talking about how she only had one night to prepare for the role, and it shows.

Of course, it's just plain cruel to compare Beckinsale to Blanchett. I've been keeping my eye on Blanchett since Elizabeth. I don't know how she does it, but Blanchett manages to channel Hepburn here. The way she turns her nose up and that short little laugh are deadly. Her Katherine is a whirlwind. It's no small wonder that Hepburn forever stole Hughes' heart, and her scenes with DiCaprio are phenomenal.

Saints be praised that Baldwin is no longer trapped in the role of leading man. He dives into this fat cat role with terrific restrained gusto, and Alda is there to match him step for step.

John Logan's screenplay, full of fury and understatement, works brilliantly Martin Scorcese's direction. Part of the film was done in Montreal (thank you, end credits!), so I will happily take vindication for that as well. Should anyone ever ask you, all of Martin Scorcese's films (at least the ones I have seen) are about what makes a man. Not what separates him from a woman, but what makes him his own entity: what makes a man a man. He is unabashed in the pursuit of this goal.

Still, while I was breathless with anticipation over whether or not the Hercules really would fly, the rest of the theatre didn't seem as concerned. I have given up on fellow audience members doing anything short of inciting me to violence, but the 169 minute running time did make me a little sympathetic. A -

Desert Saints (2002)

Short: Banks (Kiefer Sutherland) is a hit man who uses women to do the work that may get him caught, then he kills them. For he latest and last hit, he picks up Bennie (Melora Walters), a sultry hitch-hiker with a secret past. Scanlon (Jamey Sheridan) and Marbury (Leslie Stefanson) are feds hot on his trail, and a simple enough hit quickly dissolves into a game of betrayal.

Let's all agree that it has been quite some time since April reviewed a Kiefer Sutherland movie. Aren't you impressed?

You should be.

You should not, however, be impressed with this movie. A ho-hum betrayal tale between cops and criminals doesn't do much for me when it's as formulaic as this one. Of course, that explains why writer/director Richard Greenberg and co-writer Wally Nichols haven't done anything since. There's nothing in the screenplay or direction to catch the audience's attention and/or maintain it.

Sutherland, as always, demonstrates that he's a formidable villain with a tongue laced with double talk and cruelty. He seems nice enough one minute, but that can change in a snap.

Walters wasn't nearly as good, but I liked her anyway. Everything I read described her as "sexy", and, while I wouldn't agree with that, I would go as far as to say that she did more than just put up a tough girl front.

Overall, though, I can't in good conscience recommend this one. It's not enough to anything to be worthwhile and not bad enough for me to dismiss it. C

The Way We Were (1973)

Summary: Well, I'm just going to give you the seemingly ubiquitous plot summary: "Two people, Hubbell Gardner (Robert Redford) and Katie Morosky (Barbara Streisand), have a wonderful romance, but their political views (he's conservative, she's a commie) and convictions (he's about people, she's about principles) drive them apart." Plus you get some McCarthyism and snappy seventies outfits.

Misty water coloured memories! Okay, I just had to get that out of my system before I kept writing.

Oh, young Robert Redford. I don't know what it is about him. I wouldn't go as far as to say that I am particularly attracted to him, yet I am drawn to him. He's magnetic - what else can I say? Passionate and optimistic, but he can turn cold with the drop of a hat. You've just got to watch Redford.

I don't feel the same way about Streisand, though. I love her with Redford, and that scene at the end really is killer - it just wouldn't be without her - but I'm not sure what the big deal is about her. I don't much care for her singing voice.

The screenplay, by Arthur Laurents and David Rayfiel, is intelligent and focused, and it works with Sydney Pollack's careful direction. The direction, in my opinion, may have been a bit too careful, but I guess it was 1973.

Overall, not the best love story I've ever seen. A good one nonetheless. B+

Spanglish (2004)

Summary: Deborah Clasky (Téa Leoni) hires Flor (Paz Vega) as a nanny/housekeeper for her two children, Bernice (Sarah Steele) and Georgie (Ian Hyland), and her alcoholic former singer mother, Evelyn (Cloris Leachman). Deb's relationship with her husband, John (Adam Sandler), is strained at best, and things become even worse when Flor and her daughter, Cristina (Shelbie Bruce), move in with the Claskys for the summer.

James L. Brooks. James L. Brooks. What are his movies about, really? Terms of Endearment? As Good as it Gets? I don't know. I liked both those movies, but it's been too long since I've watched either one of them for me to recall what was so special about them. Funny? Absolutely. Strangely warm? Without a doubt. Great performances? Who could argue with that?

But what does it all mean? What does it add up to? I rather enjoyed his writing and directing here. He didn't entirely go for the big Hollywood ending, instead giving us some of it and leaving the rest to imagination.

Or did he? No. You know what, it was supposed to feel that way, but he didn't really leave anything to the imagination. It's the sets that give everything away. Consider the two houses were the Clasky spend their time. Each is filled with stuff, yet neither comes across as cluttered. They're supposed to have all this stuff, you think. That's life. An accumulation of things that never seem out of place. Only it's not. It's trying too hard.

You get the humour and heart of Brooks movie without any of the weight you would really need to carry it through. I laughed and laughed, and very little of it has any staying power beyond that.

Vega, of Sex and Lucia fame, is a sexily confused and high strung joy in this movie. Wonderfully clad in flowing skirts and peasanty tops, Vega very nearly steals the show. She's so strong and stupid all that the same time.

Leoni, on the other hand, does nothing so worthwhile. Her character is such a bitch, which is exactly what I kept saying during the movie, and she's the worst kind of bitch because she has absolutely no idea what a huge bitch she is. The worst part, however, is that nothing about Brooks' screenplay or Leoni's performance makes Deborah redeemable or worthy of John in anyway.

Sandler, who I have judged to be something of a one performance actor in the past(which the box office never seems to mind), may have something here. Sure, he resorts of his old tricks once or twice, but he showing signs of something deeper here. Something real. We'll see how long he sticks with it.

Leachman, oh Leachman. She is a riot! Evelyn's a joy in every scene she appears in, and nothing about her performance is unnatural in anyway. Frankly, I would have been just as apt to see a movie about her influence on the family as I was to see Flor's.

Vega and Leachman may be worth my time, but I'm not yet convinced about the rest of it. Mostly because of the lack of anything to drive Leoni's character to behave the way she does. B-

One Crazy Summer (1986)

Brief: Hoops McCann (John Cusack) decides to spend his last summer before art school on Nantucket with his best friend George Calamari (Joey Murray) and his family. Hoops meets Cassandra (Demi Moore), and, together with a bunch of townies, they try to save her grandfather's house from the evil Beckersteads who want to put in a restuarant and condos. Of course, all these things caluminate in a regatta.

Everytime I watched say anything . . . in my last house, one of my housemant's boyfriends would tell me how much they support Cusack in the 80s. He would always go on to recommend One Crazy Summer. Thanks to the wonderful Zip.ca, I have finally watched it.

Anyone who calls themselves Savage Steven Holland (writer/director) and who employs Bobcat Goldthwait clearly just wants to have some fun. Sure, Moore can't act or sing, and Cusack has some massively skinny legs. Sure, the dialogue is almost always over the top. Sure, the movie relies more on sight gags than anything else. That's what I look for in a classic 80s comedy. They're just so funny if you don't let their inadequacies get you down.

Sometimes movies are just for fun. It's all about managing expectations, I say. C+

Also, for those of you who didn't know, the Golden Globe nominations were announced Monday. If you would like to see a complete list from those in the know, you want this link: http://www.hfpa.org/nominations2005.html.

And, if you really like your TV, you need to be reading Television Without Pity. Tongue-in-cheek humour and criticism like this can only be written by people who really, really like television: http://www.televisionwithoutpity.com/.

Ocean's Twelve (2004)

Idea: The whole gang from Ocean's Eleven is back. Terry Benedict (Andy Garcia) wants it all back with interest, so they head out to three European cities to get it. Isabel (Catherine Zeta-Jones), however, is something of a jilted ex and hot on Rusty's (Brad Pitt) tail. They get into some trouble when they encounter a rival thief known only as the Nightfox.

Basically, George Clooney, Brad Pitt, Matt Damon, Casey Affleck, Scott Caan, Shaobo Qin, Bernie Mac, Don Cheadle, Carl Reiner, Eddie Jemison, and Elliott Gould are up to their old tricks. And good tricks they are.

Except something isn't working here. And it's Steven Soderbergh.

George Nolfi's script nails the characters, but he ignores the setting as a character. Ocean's Eleven wouldn't have worked if it wasn't set in Las Vegas. It showcased that glittering steel trap beautifully. It's a bad sign, however, when people can't work Amsterdam and Rome. They seem like pretty easy cities to work.

But that's not the point. See, the first movie was a slick caper. Not your usual Soderbergh fare, but something smooth and completely seamless, from start to finish. Not so here. A Soderbergh film without doubt, but now it's no longer a heist movie. It has to be something more. So he sacrifices fun in the place of excessive close ups and disjoin, you-never-know-until-the-end-what's-really-going-on story telling. You could make a case for that in the first movie, but you'd have to see the sequel to understand the difference.

Still there are noteworthy elements at play.

Topher Grace has the best cameo since well . . . I don't even know. I just died when he said that he "totally phoned it in on that Dennis Quaid thing." Just died.

Clooney, my smarmy friend, and Pitt work well together, and everyone looks great. I swear, these movies are more about costuming than anything else. Zeta-Jones looks fabulous the whole way through. I wanted her wardrobe so very much. Too many great items to list.

Did they all phone it in, though? Maybe. B.

Hello again! No time for a real review today, but I thought I'd tell you all that Les invasions barbares was really good, and, if you can stand how dirty these French people are, you should see it. The chemistry between Remy Girard and Stephane Rousseau, who play father and son, is incredible.
I also wanted to leave you this link: http://www.pcavote.com/voting/film/f01.shtml. If you follow it, you can vote for the 31st annual People's Choice awards. You don't have to vote for every category (I avoided the country music section). It made me feel warm and fuzzy to share my opinion with that many more people.
Alright, back to reading and writing take-homes. I can't wait for this week to be over, so I can sink my teeth into some DVDs.

Closer (2004)

Plan: While walking down the street one dismal day in London, Dan (Jude Law) spies Alice (Natalie Portman). She's hit by a car, and he takes her to the hospital. Dan meets Anna (Julia Roberts) when she photographs him for his book about Alice's life. Dan accidentally sets Anna up with Larry (Clive Owen). Dan and Alice attend Anna's show, where Dan discovers that Anna is dating Larry, and Larry meets Alice in front of her portrait.

I keep rolling around in my mind that stat that we've all heard. You know the one, that something like 60% of people cheat? But what is that really? People in monogamous relationships? Do they mean sexual intercourse when they say "cheat"? Kissing? Wanting said things?

Plot summaries are praising this movie for the way it deals with the "adult" themes of adultery, love, lust, sex, and betrayal.

Fair enough praise. Patrick Marber's screenplay, based on his play, is brutally honest about the relationships between men and women. It is, in fact, so insightful about said relationships that it reminds me of an Oscar Wilde play, only without the charm or comedy.

The only real problem I have with Marber's screenplay is that his characters lack even an iota of self-control. A character may appear scrupulous at first, but Marber makes it clear that a persistent person can easily wear them done.

Luckily, Mick Nichols takes an impressive and beautiful cast and pushes them as far as they are willing to go, which in some cases isn't all that far. Nichols has made a movie about sex without showing anything, which is a talent in itself, but he manages to make the ubiquitous sex talk simultaneously artless and artful.

With a whopping cast of six speaking parts, it's pretty easy to get into the individual characters (and why it must have worked well as a play).

I have said in the past that the more I see of Law, the less I like him. With, what, four or five movies opening this fall, how could I not get annoyed? Even so, I saw this one, and I will cautiously suggest that I may be able to like him again. He is not, at any rate, the sexiest man alive. Of course, that's because I have difficulty seeing him as a "man". The way he bats his girly eyelashes and always seems to be play these arrogant asses convinced of their own sex appeal doesn't really turn my crank. He made a pretty good Dan. Dan's a man who believes he deserves many a beautiful woman and has serious issues about his mommy. I buy that from Law.

The thing is, though, Law made it really hard to actually hate Dan. I oscillated between feeling sorry for him and thinking he felt a bit too sorry for himself, but I never really had a reason to demonize his character. The trailers, however, give Dan more of an edge. There are at least two exchanges with Anna in them that do not appear in the movie. If Dan had had that side to him that I saw there, I might have concerned myself with him at little more.

Natalie Portman has come back to us! Gone are the days of Natalie the Robot in the hands of useless George Lucas (yes, I realize that there will be a third movie, but I've chosen to block it out as best I can). Garden State first hinted at it. Portman was charming and sweet there, and under Nichols' tutelage, Portman has become a full fledged star. This is the precocious girl we instantly fell in love with in The Professional, Heat, and Beautiful Girls. She has grown into a sexy young woman full of passion and pathos. So protective was Nichols over Portman's nubile body that he had every trace of her nudity edited out (tricky thing considering her character's profession). I think he gets it though. Portman has finally arrived.

Will the real Julia Roberts please stand up? You know I think she plays the same character in every movie, and she seemed to get away from that here for a little while. Even so, I still felt like I was waiting. Waiting, waiting, always waiting for Roberts to show her true colours, to see what the rest of the world sees in her. Yes, she is gorgeous. I don't think I've ever seen her look so good. But what about the rest of it? Where's all this acting skill that the rest cling to? Roberts' mega-watt smile will never let her down, and I still hope that there's more to it than that.

Owen, who originated the stage character of Dan, is a wonderful ball of sexuality, fury, and embarrassment. I feel it was a cruel trick to set the boy Law up against the man Owen. He could eat pint-sized Law for lunch. Owen is just so masculine, and he's so confident in that masculinity that he's not afraid to play the hyper libido or misogyny that goes along with it. His performances are always restrained, but he's starting to let it out here.

One of the best parts of the movie, though, is everyone's style. Costumer designer Ann Roth has outdone herself. She embraces patterns on patterns (three at once and without a hint of fear), fantastic accessories, and minimalist colour. It's a delight for the eye, I tell you.

Despite it's repetitive nature, I even fell for the Damien Rice song, "The Blower's Daughter", that can be heard in the trailers, TV spots, and throughout the movie. Not to steal a page from the dear Jenelle, but I feel I should the lyrics with you:

And so it is
Just like you said it would be
Life goes easy on me
Most of the time
And so it is
The shorter story
No love, no glory
No hero in her sky
I can't take my eyes off of you
I can't take my eyes off of you
I can't take my eyes off of you
I can't take my eyes off of you
I can't take my eyes off of you
I can't take my eyes
And so it is
Just like you said it should be
We'll both forget the breeze
Most of the time
And so it is
The colder water
The blower's daughter
The pupil in denial
I can't take my eyes off of you
I can't take my eyes off of you
I can't take my eyes off of you
I can't take my eyes off of you
I can't take my eyes off of you
I can't take my eyes
Did I say that I loathe you?
Did I say that I want to
Leave it all behind?
I can't take my mind off of you
I can't take my mind off of you
I can't take my mind off of you
I can't take my mind off of you
I can't take my mind off of you
I can't take my mind
'Til I find somebody new

So, to recap: a nice song, great costumes, and a lot of sex talk. Is that why I go to the movies? Did I really want someone to talk dirty to me while wearing some sassy earrings that I would want to borrow and hear some pretty song in the background? No. B-

The Machinist (2004)

Brief: Trevor Reznik (Christian Bale) hasn't slept in a year. He divides his time between his work as a lathe operator, a 24-hour café where he chats with waitress Maria (Aitana Sanchez-Gijon), and hooker named Stevie (Jennifer Jason Leigh). After he causes an accident at work involving Miller (Michael Ironside), Trevor admits that he was distracted by Ivan (John Sharian). When everyone else denies Ivan's existence, Trevor suspects a larger conspiracy at play.

It has taken many a sleep to come to terms with what this film, and I think I've got a handle on it now.

Much has been made of Bale's astonishing 63 pound weight loss, and it is credited as the most weight change ever made for a film. Compared to Robert De Niro's weight gain for Raging Bull, Bale reminded me more of De Niro's performance in another Martin Scorcese work: Taxi Driver. I don't think I understood what De Niro was doing back in 1976 until I was caught up in Bale's mesmerising performance. It's true that he does a different accent for every character, and I honestly believe this to be his best work to date. He just keeps getting better and better. Bale, looking horrifyingly like a Holocaust victim, overwhelmed me with the latent guilt that drives this movie, and he managed to make, without giving too much away, even the most despicable of characters worthy of wonderfully wrought sympathy. His above and beyond performance should be rewarded accordingly.

Brad Anderson's direction of Scott Kosar's paranoid and thrilling screenplay combines elements of Alfred Hitchcock and Christopher Nolan, forever confounding the audience and driving them forward with an alternatively creeping and racing pace. His direction is electric and harrowing, always hinting but never giving you enough to go on.

Trevor's flirtations with Maria were insubstantial, but Sanchez-Gijon makes her smaller role worth remembering. Stevie is Trevor's true lady, and Leigh works hard to avoid relegating her character to a stereotypical hooker with a heart of gold. In the end, it's just enough to avoid tipping the balance, but there's still something missing from her performance that you can't quite put your finger on. A pulse, maybe. Something other than a black eye to make Stevie as worth caring about as Maria.

Of course, Anderson and Kosar make sure all you really care about is the other characters in relation to Trevor. Sharian's the most compelling of these, with his toothy grin, massive noggin, and air of a bounty hunter about him. Trevor's never clear on what Ivan wants from him, and Sharian makes sure that the audience feels just as toyed with.

If any of you doubt why I believe Fight Club to be a comedy, I recommend you see this one. You feel the theatre feeling not afraid but nervous, like someone will be waiting for you when you get home. Someone you owe, somehow. You know what the ending will be by the time it rolls around, and Anderson and Bale manage to make you still long for it. A-

The Great Gatsby (1974)

Short: Nick Carraway (Sam Waterston) is intrigued by his wealthy and mysterious neighbour, Jay Gatsby (Robert Redford). As his cousin Daisy Buchanan (Mia Farrow) tries to induct Nick into the upper crust to keep her company while her philandering husband, Tom (Bruce Dern), gallivants about town, Nick is manipulated into reintroducing Jay and Daisy, whose past he has only begun to uncover.

Despite the fact that it is also a bit too long and much too slowly paced, an infinitely better film than Alexander.

Okay, maybe not infinitely better. But better none the less.

Just don't ask me to compare the novel. I don't know. I've never read the novel. As much as I understand and even appreciate F. Scott Fitzgerald as a classic American writer and the definitive Jazz Age novelist, I've never picked up one of his novels. Short stories, on the other hand, I've read some of those. Just like me and Nathaniel Hawthorne. I guess I'm just not big on American novelists.

Regardless, this is a pretty good movie. I would agree with the jacket that described Francis Ford Coppola's script as elegant, and Jack Clayton (director) knows how to tell a love story, even if it is more of a fantasy.

Unfortunately, I don't know where he was going with Farrow as Daisy. I always thought that she was something of a manipulative seductress who didn't know her own mind, but Farrow's performance has led me to believe that she was, in fact, out of her mind. Was that the way it was in the book?

Redford lends credibility to the eternally hopeful Gatsby, and his lined forehead and occasional fleeting look of despondency tether his performance just enough to keep the audience captive.

Waterston's accent threw me a little, but I liked his Nick anyway. Nick's a sweet guy, really.

It was probably Scott Wilson, though, who brought the most emotion to his small but influential part as George Wilson. Wilson will not fail to break your heart.

Overall, either Coppola, Clayton, or Fitzgerald himself - maybe a combo of the three? - was much to heavy handed with the symbolism.

And there are plenty of ways to express the fact that it's hot besides having everyone be so darn sweaty. B

Finding Neverland (2004)

Premise: After his servant kindly cuts out an unfavourable review, James Barrie (Johnny Depp with a sexy Scottish brogue) spies the widow Sylvia Llewelyn Davies (Kate Winslet) and her four sons playing in the park. Barrie is soon adopted as Uncle James by Jack (Joe Prospero), George (Nick Roud), and Michael (Luke Spill), while he coaxes Peter (Freddie Highmore) out of his shell. Both his social climbing wife, Mary (Radha Mitchell), and Sylvia's over-protective mother, Mrs. Du Maurier (Julie Christie), object to James' relationship with the family Davies, and they do their best put an end to a summer that would inspire children for a century.

Spoil sports!

April definitely should have spent her opening week-end money on this film.

Marc Foster (director), who brought us the quiet, poignant, but slightly overrated Monster's Ball, is in his element here. The combination of his direction, David Magee's screenplay (based on Allan Knee's play), and Depp stole my heart in the first fifteen minutes or so, and they filled it to nearly bursting. There's a part right at the beginning where Michael flies a kite, and I started crying right then I was so happy. Foster and Magee make us privy to the wonderful adventures that must have occurred in Barrie's imagination, and it is impossible not to fall in love with him.

I didn't like Mary at first, but Mitchell managed to turn it around for me. The deep yearning that the ethereal Winslet and Depp brought to Sylvia's and James' friendship made it easy to demonize Mary. Magee and Mitchell, however, gave Mary just enough for the audience to understand the daily heartbreak Mary experienced.

And for those of you who were understandably endeared by Highmore's big blue eyes and chemistry with Depp, you'll be happy to know that they will be appearing together next in Tim Burton's remake of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, with Highmore in the title role.

There were so many good little bits that I want to comment on, and I don't want to give any of it away. I will tell you that the part with Christie when she claps was completely spontaneous, and it was also the part that got to me the most.

And Kelly Macdonald, who gives life to the first stage Peter Pan, is perfect as the little boy who never wanted to grow up. In case you didn't already know, Peter was usually played by a young lady, and Macdonald is endearing.

James tells Peter that he can always find Neverland by just believing. If I believe hard enough and long enough, will I always be able to find films that can be described in one word - magic - like this one? A+

Alexander (2004)

Summary: Raised under the watchful eye of his vengeful mother, Olympias (Angelina Jolie), and his capricious father, Philip (Val Kilmer), Alexander (Colin Farrell) grows up unsure of his position as legitimate heir of the united thrones of Macedonia and Greece. After his father's death, Alexander seeks to conquer as much land as he can with the help of many such as Ptomley (Elliot Cowan), Cletius (Gary Stretch), Cassander (Jonathan Rhys-Meyers), and his love, Hesphaistion (Jared Leto). Later, Alexander makes the controversial decision to marry a Persian "of no political importance", Roxane (Rosario Dawson).

I knew I was in for a rough ride when I started laughing during the opening credits, but I had no idea how rough the ride would truly be.

At 173 minutes (that's three hours, folks), Oliver Stone (director/producer/co-writer) has turned in one sorry mess. Long, overdone, and completely unwieldy, there is barely anything to make horrible mistake of a movie worthwhile. I did my best to come up with a top 5 list for you, and it was a challenge and a half. Here's what I've got:

Top 5 things that made Alexander barely bearable:

1. Leto - that kid can act! I had no idea how well until now, but he's got some serious chops. He made Hephasition sweet, smart, and sexy without being sorry or pitiable for a single second. Go Leto! I loved the tender scenes between him and Farrel.
2. Short skirts! I've never seen skirts so short on men in movies before. They were like when girls go out nowadays with scarves wrapped around their arses, only a little bit more flowy.
3. Kilmer's prosthetic chin! Or Kilmer generally. I really liked his take on the tyrannical Macedonian ruler.
4. Connor Paolo (Young Alexander)! He looks crazy like Farrel, and he even manages to imitate Farrel's oscillating Irish accent even though he's from NYC. That's incredible.
5. Anthony Hopkins' narrating voice. That one doesn't really deserve an exclamation mark. He plays older Ptolemy, and his character is dictating the entire story to some mute scribes.

I was also going to make a Top 5 for why this movie is so bad, but I do believe that my reasons for thinking so are many more than just five. Here we go.

What the hell is the matter with Farrel? He used to be a scene stealing genius. When he made his American debut is Joel Schumacher's brilliant Tigerland, he nailed a Southern accent and quickly became someone to keep my eye on. Since then, however, my eye has been near terrified to watch. The number of poor role choices this once smoldering star has made is appalling. Here, except in the quiet scenes he shares with Leto, he completely overacts, making his performance near unbearable. And that hair is so very awful. Also, I believe he could have benefited from choosing one accent instead of wavering between two or three for all those hours. It can't be that hard.

Jolie can't act at all. In fact, in one scene, she actually howls, which I found disturbing as heck. I will never understand why she won an Oscar for Girl, Interrupted since that movie was sucky anyway. She chews up the scenery and plants laughing eyes in every scene she can, regardless of whether or not they are applicable. Her accent really threw me for a loop. I understood that her character was supposed to be Greek, so what's with her bad Russian accent? Was she preparing for her upcoming role as the sexy despot Catherine the Great? I'll never know.

Why was Cowan cast as young Ptolmey? He looks nothing like Hopkins. Nothing. And how was Ptomley supposed to know about all these intimate moments between Alexander and his mother/father/lover/wife? He wasn't even there, it seems, when young Alexander was under the tutelage of Aristotle (Christopher Plummer, who would have had to burst into song to save this sinking ship). There was never any indication that Ptomley was anything close to a confidant of Alexander's. And then, after he tells the whole "rousing" story, he admits that he never really believed in Alexander. What the hell is the point, then?

Things like that just show the complete lack of thought on the parts of Stone and his co-writers Christopher Kyle and Laeta Kalogridis. Here's some advice for Stone et al. : When your screenplay raises more questions than it answers, it's never a good sign. I don't even think it's a good sign when you make crazed conspiracy theorist movies (e.g. Stone's completely implausible bullet theories in JFK). They all worked so hard to simultaneously reinforce and negate Alexander's homosexuality that no clear point was made about it. I mean, are we supposed to believe that he was kind of gay? A little bit gay? Sometimes gay? I always thought it was pretty binary, like being pregnant.

And then they had Paolo horse-whisperer that wild horse? That was just dumb. No one horse whisperered anything back then.

For the record, it's Her-Q-lees, not Hair-A-cles.

Of course, the ridiculously stupid crowd I found myself with in that theatre didn't help. They actually laughed their way through every moment of tenderness between Alexander and Hesphaistion (and I would like to reiterate, the best scenes in the whole awful thing) and then were near hysterical when he died! So overcome with anger was I at the crowd that I nearly yelled out, "HE'S GAY!!!!!" So, so unimpressed. Clearly a group with a level of collective maturity even lower than mine.

Also, Vangelis' score was just as cheap rip off of Hans Zimmer's score for Gladiator, which this movie will never be.

I have always believed that Alexander's relationship with his father, Philip II of Macedonia, had more of an impact on him than his mother's. Rumoured to have raised his son among lions to breed fearlessness, Philip actually tried to impale his son. I don't know about you, but that would have an impact on me.

Overall, I refuse to allow Alexander the Great to be reduced to a sullen mamma's boy. D

Hey folks! I'm bogged down in term papers and the like lately, but I did come up with a top 5 list for you to discuss at leisure. This list came out of a discussion between Emily and I after we saw Stage Beauty. So, the list contains those whom are in a lot of movies but reasonably so, for they are quite talented.

Top 5 actors to put in a movie if you're going to make a movie

1. Phillip Seymour Hoffman
2. Xander Berkley
3. Gary Oldman
4. Tom Wilkinson
5. John C. Reilly

Also, check out the new link. The High Sign is a film review site by woman who writes television and media criticism for Slate, which is also linked. Her reviews put mine to shame, but she posts with even less frequency than yours truly.

Saved! (2004)

Brief: The summer before her senior year at a very Christian high school, Mary (Jena Malone) sleeps with her gay boyfriend, Dean (Chad Faust), in an attempt to straighten him out. He ends up getting sent away anyway, and Mary ends up pregnant. Although she does her best to hide it from her friends like Hilary Faye (Mandy Moore), Mary is found out and ostracizes by everyone except the school's only Jewish student, Cassandra (Eva Amurri), and the only kid in a wheelchair, Roland (Macaulay Culkin).

Hahahaha! That's right! Macaulay is back, and he's funnier than ever. I was about to call him Culkin, but I didn't want to get you confused with my love of his younger brothers. Basically speaking, those Culkins can act! I don't know where they get it from, but it's a high quality source.

I've got to tell ya, although I watched this movie with people who were obviously amused, I just don't think they got it the way I did. You've got to really enjoy/know something to really make fun of it, and Brian Dannelly (director/co-writer) and Michael Urban (co-writer) really know their stuff. This movie is so funny. So very funny. From the pins to the distribution of religious tracts on Hallowe'en to the giant white Jesus, it's almost too much.

Malone is typically plucky and diligently sullen when necessary, and I detected a note of boredom behind it all. You never want to feel like an actor is trying, but it's even worse when you feel like they aren't.

Moore, I'm shocked to admit, is really coming into her own as an actress. I didn't think it was possible, but she's starting to grow on me. Her discernment is wanting, and I am willing to see if that will develop in time.

Ooo, I forgot to mention that Patrick Fuget is in the movie as well. He likes Mary even though she's preggers. It's sweet. But he wasn't is heart-achingly endearing as he was in Almost Famous. Of course, that's sort of the magic of Cameron Crowe.

Plus there's Mary Louise Parker. I'm fond of her as well. B

Little Odessa (1994)

Idea: Joshua (Tim Roth) returns home after a long absence on a business assignment. He wishes to see his dying mother (Vanessa Redgrave) and his little brother, Reuben (Edward Furlong), but his father (Maximilian Schell) struggles to keep Joshua's influence out of Reuben's life.

I really didn't get this movie. Well, I might just be saying that.

As you know, I am a big fan of James Gray's The Yards. His writing and directorial debut, however, left me feeling uninspired.

With the exceptions of the scenes that Roth and Furlong share or the ones that Redgrave, Roth and Furlong share, there's nothing attention grabbing in this movie. And I mean that in a bad way. It's not understated; nothing's stated at all.

In fact, instead of concerning myself with the plights of the characters, I spent most of my time trying to figure out what the title referred to. Because Gray is possibly in love with the five boroughs, the movie is set in Brooklyn. Now, apparently, a large amount of Ukrainian immigrants must have settled there because the real Odessa is in the Ukraine.

Honestly, though, I can't think of much to say about this movie because it was so blah. It's a very bad thing when a movie leaves you feeling so null. C-

Stage Beauty (2004)

Premise: Ned Kynaston (Billy Crudup) is the most beautiful woman on the stage, and he is renowned for his Desdemona. Invited to dine at the palace one night by his lover, the Duke of Buckingham (Ben Chaplin), Ned discovers that the rumoured first woman to act on the stage (and play Desdemona no less) is no other than his dresser, Maria (Claire Danes). King Charles II (Rupert Everett), incited by his mistress, declares that women on the stage is no longer illegal. After Ned refuses to act with Maria, the mistress then pushes the King to make it illegal for men to act in women's roles, thus depriving Ned of his livelihood.

Also Tom Wilkinson is around and bursting with talent. He's one of the few people I can think of who can genuinely play despicable and lovable characters equally well.

Crudup! I've gotta tell ya - I didn't have much of an opinion about him until now. I've seen him in things like Almost Famous and The Hi-Lo Country, and I never made much of him before. He's got it goin' on here. As a man consciously trapped in womanhood, completely unable to express himself as a man, he's really quite compelling. As much as we like to pretend that "gender confusion" and "alternative lifestyles" are an invention of the 20th century, they very much are not, and Crudup brings new insight to a man who has chosen the beauty of women over the ugliness he associates with masculinity.

Danes, whose choices are sometimes suspect, plays brilliantly in a return to that dramatic independent vein in which she belongs. By independent I don't necessarily mean independent film but independent spirit. I think she's better off with characters that she can bring that quality to. I've even started to find that quivering chin of hers endearing.

And I don't care what a certain someone says! Everett can totally play heterosexuals without coming across as "gay". His take on that gender reformist is remarkable different than Rufus Sewell's, which I saw earlier this year, and I like the contrast. He's a hoot!

Jeffrey Hatcher's screenplay, based on his play Compleat Female Stage Beauty, is alive and questioning. His words flow smoothly with Richard Eyre's (director) camera. Eyre also helmed the acclaimed Iris, and he brings a balanced sense of comedy and drama to this film.

I do have a problem with George Fenton's score, though. It reminded me so much of Michael Kamen's Robin Hood that I ended up humming Kamen's work on my way home, not Fenton's. Bad, bad sign.

By far the best Charlesian drag dramedy I have ever seen, though. A-

Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason (2004)

Plot: Six weeks later, Bridget (Renee Zellweger) and Mark's (Colin Firth) relationship is going well, except that Briget is starting to get ansy. The appearance of leggy Rebecca (Jacinda Barrett) in Mark's life and the re-appearance of Daniel Cleaver (Hugh Grant) in Bridget's has her just a bit on edge about their relationship.

Finally, a classic sequel: worse than the first.

See, the problem in this case is that the first is very, very good. A+ good. What's a sequel to do?

First, it seems, is highly deviate from the side splitting novel on which it is based. Enough is there to keep the fans happy, but so very much is missing. If you've read the diaries, you know the first film was a faithful adaptation of the book. All the promotional materials that I read and saw suggested that The Edge of Reason would deliver all the same goodies in shiny new packaging. Unfortunately, there seems to be a disconnect between whomever created the promotional materials and whomever did the editing.

Of course, whoever said it was right - Zellweger was born to play Bridget. She nails her British accent, and she is a genuine comedienne.

It also helps that Grant, as much as we all loved his floppy haired, bumbling Brit days, was born to play the cad. His Cleaver is exactly the way you think he should be - shallow, conceited, and, above all, unrepentant.

Firth remains one of the sexiest actors out there, and his shagaholic Mark Darcy is as dreamy a dish as ever.

So I blame the new director: Beeban Kidron. Sure, I love her drag comedy To Wong Foo, but she just doesn't do it for me here. Jim Broadbent and Gemma Jones are wasted, and neither movie allows you to fully experience the hilarity of Bridge's social circle.

Basically speaking, the movie's just not funny the way it should be. B

The Believer (2001)

Plan: Danny Balint (Ryan Gosling) is a neo-Nazi looking to do some violence. At the same time as he is planning bombing synagogues, he becomes involved with a group of fascists led by Curtis (Billy Zane) and Lina (Theresa Russell) who believe that Danny's passionate eloquence will draw others to their cause. Danny also takes up with Lina's daughter, Carla (Summer Phoenix). Of course, there is one minor problem: Danny is Jewish.

Classic example of a great performance wasted in a poorly done flick.

Gosling is reminiscent of a young Robert DeNiro here. He's fiery and quiet, strong and even a bit subversive. He is quickly establishing himself as one of the finest actors of his generation, and he's got the stuff to make that mantle a lasting one.

The rest of it is just blah. Neither Henry Bean's direction nor his screenplay are focused enough to merit any attention. Gosling manages to rise above it, but the rest of are just stuck in the mire. It's a little sad if you think about it.

I consider this foray just another step in watching Gosling progress. Sometimes it's worth it just to watch raising star. B-

Super-Size Me (2004)

Subject: Morgan Spurlock (writer/director) eats nothing but McDonald's for 30 days while considering America's obsession with fast-food, its obesity crisis, and other nutritional ideas.

A highly irreverent, highly tough-in-cheek look at what the rest of us would never do to prove a point. And I do love it when people really want to make a point.

Is this a rigorous, scientific look at the dangers of excessive fast-food consumption? Of course not. Why would you want to see such a film?

But it is a good documentary. Spurlock sticks to the basics of film-making, keeping his focus while examining why it is that we eat the poor way that we do. He outlines his points with verbally and through images, so you never get confused about what's going on. In addition, at 96 minutes, he doesn't keep you sitting there for what can often seem like an eternity in the realm of non-fiction.

He does his best work not when he interacts with the public (although there are some priceless moments there), but when he discusses, describes, and creatively animates what is happening to his body. He does, I will warn you, throw up a lot on day three. But never again after that.

Personally, I feel that all this dependence on fast-foods is wrapped up in the myth that we are in some sort of a hurry. Everyone believes that they simply don't have enough time to do the things that they need to get done in a day, so they find ways to cut corners (how else could you explain the hundreds of new disposable products on the market? do you really need to create more garbage?).

Honestly, though, the most powerful segment for me wasn't in the original movie but in the bonus features. In a section entitled The Smoking Fry, Spurlock leaves various McDonald's sandwiches and one super-size fries to rot in containers in this office, as well as a hamburger and fries from a real hamburger place. The latter two were the first two go. In a show of pure horror, the sandwiches eventually rot. The fries, oh those once delicious golden institutions, look exactly the same 10 weeks later. Exactly, exactly the same.

I will never eat their fries again. Never, never ever. Food decomposes. These things might have been made of Styrofoam. A-

Texasville (1990)

Short: 30 years later (1984), Jacy (Cybill Shepherd) returns to Anarene following the death of one of her children. Duane (Jeff Bridges) is an oil tycoon about to lose it all, including his wife, Karla (Annie Potts); his mistresses to his virile son, Dickie (William McNamara); and his family to Jacy. Sonny (Timothy Bottoms) is also still around, although less and less of his mind is in the present.

Again, April was mislead. I thought that the sequel to The Last Picture Show was about Duane and Jacy getting back together/working on their issues with one another. It's not.

It's about how Duane is a dumbass.

So unimpressed again. I didn't much care for the first film, but the follow-up is so much worse. If it weren't for the ever-delightful Potts, I doubt I would have made it to the end.

I don't think that Peter Bogdanovich should write movies all on this own. It doesn't work for him. And what was with all the poor editing? You know when you can tell that an actor was filmed against a screen and the background was added later? At least half the movie looked that way.

While watching this movie, I did note one interesting phenomenon, although it didn't occur on the screen. Everyone who came into the room stopped to actually watch what was going on on the TV. When I watched The Last Picture Show, most people chalked it up to "one of April's weird movies."

Why, you might ask? Because it was in colour. The Last Picture Show is unquestionably the better film, but it was in black and white. Thus, no one wanted to see it. That's ridiculous to me. I don't understand at all why people should be wary of black and white pictures. I mean, does that mean that a whole generation of people will never see classics like Citizen Kane or Some Like it Hot?

Because that's just nutty. C

The Last Picture Show (1971)

Summary: In the early 1950s, small-town Texas was safe between wars. In Anarene, Sonny (Timothy Bottoms), Jacy (Cybill Shepherd), and Duane (Jeff Bridges) are floating through their last year of high school, blissfully unaware that there is more to life that high school football games and constant gossip (or is there?). Sonny soon begins an affair with their coach's wife, Ruth Popper (Cloris Leachman), and Duane and Jacy's relationship begins to reach its breaking point.

Here's what I thought the movie was about:
Duane and Jacy are dating, and she cheats on him with Sonny, his best friend.

That's what you get when you rely on Dawson's Creek for your film synopses.

Here's what it's really about:
Sonny is an allegorical figure that represents the difficulties of growing up, that chasm between childhood and adulthood, and the disillusionment that inevitably follows when you graduate from that microcosm of social activity and anxiety that is high school.

Which is well enough because Bottoms does a superb job. The real knockouts, though, are Leachman and Ben Johnson (Sam), who very justly won Academy Awards for their performances here. It was Johnson who really stole the show. His performance is so nuanced and understated that you just might miss it.

Peter Bogdanovich (director and co-screenwriter) and Larry McMurtry (co-screenwriter, based on his novel) are credited with crafting a "great American movie," a" classic" for the ages. For life of me, I didn't see what critics apparently have seen for years in this movie. Although lauded with excessive superlatives, I saw a movie that was much more sexual and, well, naked that I would have liked. Maybe it's just my disappointment.

All in all, aside from the three performances I mentioned above, and the fact that I believe Bridges to be one of the top 5 underrated American actors of the 20th-21st centuries, I don't think I would have made it all the way through this one.

Alright, I'll give you cinematography, too. Excellent work, Robert Surtees. B

James Dean (2001)

Idea: A romanticised telling of the life of James Dean (James Franco). After his mother dies when James is nine, and Winton Dean (Michael Moriarty) ships his son back to Indiana. He doesn't see him again until after his high school graduation. Winton again abandons James when he decides to pursue a career in acting instead of business. James moves to New York, where he is befriended by Martin Landau (Sam Gould). When Elia Kazan (Enrico Colantoni) offers James the part in East of Eden, James moves back to California, where he falls in love with Pier Angeli (Valentina Cervi).

April takes issue with the biopic! Two issues, actually:

1) I don't understand why all biopics have to be so Freudian. I recognize that Freud is very pervasive in our times, and especially in our media, but I am just so tired of biopics that boil everything down in some person's life to their relationship with mother and/or father. Yes, those relationships are important. Are they the basis for everything else that will follow in one's life? Biopics sure think so, and Israel Horovitz (writer) has no desire to disagree.

2) Absolution. Whomever it is, whatever they have done, people in biopics always seem to be concerned with absolving their subject for their past indiscretions. Can absolution really be found in a conversation, a sentence, an utterance? Probably not. It's still worth a try.

I have never seen Franco so inhabit a role either before or since. He may not possess Dean's sheer physical presence, but he, for a brief, shining moment, was touched by the same greatness that haunted Dean.

I don't understand why the pic glosses over Rebel Without a Cause, though. I would have liked to see Sal Mineo and Natalie Wood as well. Oh, well.

Next to Franco the rest of them fade from memory, which is probably what it was like to work with Dean himself. Moriarty is a close second as a father with a secret, and Colantoni made a pretty good Kazan. Edward Herrmann has some pretty choice lines as Raymond Massey.

But that Franco. Why can't he reproduce this intensity in any of his other work? B+

The Hard Word (2002)

Brief: Dale (Guy Pearce), Mal (Damien Richardson), and Shane (Joel Edgerton) are fraternal bank robbers who just got out of jail. Thrown back in to divert suspicion from their latest heist, Frank (Robert Taylor), their partner and lawyer, offers to get them out in exchange for pulling off their biggest hit yet. When Dale realizes that his wife, Carol (Rachel Griffiths), is having an affair with Frank, the brothers suspect there is a lot more going on than they originally knew.

If that was the blurb for the back of the movie, I would have ended it with, "But is it more than they can handle?"

It's a good thing I don't have to write the blurb, though, since I would have been tempted to begin it with, "In this dialogue less wasteland of a movie . . . "

Well, it's not that bad. And a case could be made that I'm rather partial to dialogue in movies, so I may judge movies that I feel lack it more harshly (e.g. my feelings about The Bourne Supremacy).

But that's the thing about dialogue in movies. It's great in two completely different ways. A) Because the writer thinks about each word carefully (or at least s/he should), the characters either deliver the kind of speeches we wish we could if we meted out our words with greater consideration towards their meanings or B) they say exactly what we think we would say in the given situation, which makes us feel close to the character. In either case, I like dialogue.

So when I don't get a lot of it or I get a bunch of random stuff that has nothing to do with anything (Shane's strange relationship with his mom, for example), I don't appreciate it.

Also, what's the deal with Pearce? Sometimes he's sexy, sometimes he's creepy, sometimes he's a little of both. That's the kind of thing I love about him. But occasionally, he's kind of simian. I don't know what that's about.

The trailer made a big deal about the music in the movie as well, and it wasn't particularily good either.

Basically, Scott Roberts (writer/director) doesn't really give us something worth watching. A good heist flick is judged by its pacing as much as any other standard. I kept watching, thinking, "It'll pick up soon, it'll pick up soon."

It never did. C-

Zip.ca (2004)

A review two weeks in the making!

This summer The Tyee introduced me to Zip.ca, an Ottawa-based DVD rental site. Not to be outdone, I decided to give Zip a whirl myself.

The Promises:
1. Over 24, o00 titles
2. Shipping paid both ways
3. DVDs arrive anywhere in Canada in 1-3 business days
4. No late fees
5. 24.95$ plus your province's applicable taxes
6. No contracts
7. Two week free trial

I'll confess that the two-week free trial was what did me in in the end.

The Drawbacks:
1. You have to have a credit card to sign up.

So I went on a merry-go-round to get a credit card (MasterCard didn't like my multiple addresses), but I did get one.

First, I browsed their titles. I searched for a variety of movies that I couldn't get at my local Blockbuster and initially had a 75% return rate. Eventually, when I stopped spelling things incorrectly, this number grew. Also, as more movies come out on DVD, I am able to get a hold of what I want to see.

Here's what you do:
1) You create a Zip List, which consists of search for titles and then clicking "Rent". Your Zip List is established chronologically, so you would theoretically get the first movie you added first. However, what DVD Zip sends you and when has more to do with the DVD's availability. If you make a list of say, 8 movies, then the nice people at Zip will go through it chronologically and send you the next available title.
2) Sit and wait. Personally, I found my DVDs usually arrived 1 day later.
3) Watch them at your convenience. There are no late fees, so you can keep the titles as long as you want. But . . .
4) You can only have 4 DVDs out at a time. In order to receive more, you have to ship yours back. Inside the envelope Zip sends you is a pre-stamped envelope. All you have to do is drop the DVD in the mailbox.
5) My DVDs were usually back within a business day. Zip sends you an e-mail to tell you what DVD(s) they have received and which ones they have sent out.

Problems:
I really only encountered one problem with this method so far. One DVD I requested arrived in nearly two pieces. I sent it right back, checking the boxes on the envelope to make a complaint, and I went on-line and made a more detailed complaint.
I also received a sequel before I received the first movie. I moved the priority up to ASAP for the first movie, and Zip shipped it the next day. Thus, I do not regard this situation as a problem.

Another plus is the personable and friendly staff. I received what I thought was a mini-series and was shocked when it ended without resolving any plot lines. I wrote in to ask if there was another disc. While I was informed that there is not, the nice lady who wrote to me also added that she too found the end abrupt and unresolved after she watched it. That stuff's just too good.

So the real question is, can you justify the cost? A monthly fee of about $27 may seem like a lot or a little to you. Break it down. I watch about 4 DVDs a week. At Blockbuster, that's about 11$ a week, which is 44$ a month. For me that also involves busing and/or walking both ways and no doubt late fees for too small a selection.

My Zip List now sits about 65 titles, so you can guess which way I went. They have tons of movies, mini-series, and TV shows and exactly what I have been looking for. A

Clueless (1995)

Plan: Cher (Alicia Silverstone) is a happy-go-lucky teen living it up in Beverly Hills with her lawyer father (Dan Hedaya). After a disappointing grade, she plays match-maker with two teachers at her high school, then turns her and her friend Dionne's (Stacy Dash) attentions to a new student, Tai (Brittany Murphy), much to the amusement of her older ex-step brother, Josh (Paul Rudd).

This is one of the most faithful and funny Jane Austen adaptations I've ever seen, and I'm sorry I haven't mentioned it sooner.

I know that we can sometimes be critical of Amy Heckerling's (writer/director) work here, but we really shouldn't be. You have to admire someone who could spark such enduring fashion and linguistic changes and still make Austen applicable and interesting for the teen set.

The only thing that really sucks about it is that very few of the actors seem to have gone anywhere since. I'm not saying that they are the most talented bunch, but I know you enjoyed them. It's really only Murphy's career that has taken off since. I'm reluctant to say that she is the most talented of the bunch, though.

Don't mock, but I still enjoy most of the soundtrack as well. Anyone who can use Mott the Hoople, Celine Dion, and Coolio without compromising deserves a second listen. Plus I like singing that supermodel song.

Sometimes you don't need an excuse. B

The Yards (2000)

Premise: Years ago, Leo (Mark Wahlberg) took the fall for some of his friends and spent four years in jail. Now that he's out, he just wants to support his mom, Val (Ellen Burstyn). He reconnects with his best friend Willie (Joaquin Phoenix), who is working for Leo's new uncle, Frank (James Caan). His aunt, Kitty (Fay Dunaway) doesn't seem as happy that Leo is out as her daughter, Erica (Charlize Theron), who is also Willie's girlfriend.

If you are still wondering why you should see this movie? Have you had a look at that cast? Look at it again!

It rarely gets better than that.

Alright, now, I bet you think I watched this because I'm crazy about Phoenix. What if I told you that I saw this movie when it first came out? What would you say then, huh?

Actually, you'd still be right.

See, back on May 5, 2000, I went to see this little movie called Gladiator. Maybe you've heard of it. In any case, as we were leaving, the two ladies I was with and I were gushing about Russell Crowe and his talent, and I paused to say, "Yeah, but how about that guy who played Commodus? He was creepy as hell." Of course, I had no idea who he was.

When I spied The Yards on the satellite, I thought to myself, "Hey! It's that guy who played Commodus! And I heard this is supposed to be good."

So I watched it.

One of the best choices I have ever made based on such a small amount of information. Usually relying on "it's that guy!" is the wrong way to choose a movie. In the case of Phoenix, though, it always seems to work out.

James Gray, the ingenious director and co-writer, described Phoenix as a very demanding actor. The more I think about it, the more fitting I find that title. He isn't demanding in the I-only-want-cherry-mike-and-ikes-on-the-set way, but in the sense that he demands a lot from his director, writers, co-stars, and, most of all, himself. I honestly think this is one of his best performances. His character accidentally destroys his own life, and it's wonderful and frightening emotional transformation that he brings Willie through.

One of the amazing features of Gray and Matt Reeves' screenplay is the character development they bring to nearly every character. They give the audience a grand tragedy, and Gray pushes his phenomenal cast to emotional and nearly heartbreaking performances.

I am loving watching Wahlberg and Theron progress as actors. Theron blew the roof off in Monster, and I understand that Wahlberg has done his best work yet in I (heart) Hukabees. It's even better when you go back and watch their earlier stuff to see their raw talent become more polished and believable.

Dunaway is exceptionally well preserved in addition to sexy and talented. Burstyn gives her a run for her money by those criteria, and the two are fantastic together.

You know what isn't fair, though? Caan has been type-cast since 1972! That's not right. He's clearly got what it takes, and he gives a stellar performance here.

The only thing I could really without is Howard Shore's score. He freakin' steals music, man. And it really sucks that he's good at it.

Honestly, my latest film flirtation aside, this film really is brilliantly understated. A -

Very Annie Mary (2001)

Idea: Annie Mary (Rachel Griffiths) lives under the tyrannical rule of her tenor father, Jack (Jonathan Pryce). He controls nearly every aspect of her life until he suffers a stroke while performing one day. Although she is forced to take care of him and his bakery, Annie Mary seizes this opportunity to strike out on her own, doing things like joining a girl band and raising money for her sickly best friend, Bethan Bevan (Joanna Page), to go to Disneyland.

As much as I have made a case for British films being much funnier than American ones, I think the Welsh are giving them a run for their money.

Comedic plot lines are often as predictable as they come, and I'm happy to overlook that aspect as long as they keep me laughing.

Sara Sugarman's screenplay and direction has laughs in no short supply, although she occasionally falls back stereotypes to keep them coming. On the other hand, Ioan Gruffudd (Hob) and Matthew Rhys (Nob) as the two gayest men in gaytown singing "Annie Get Your Gun" was a sight to behold. Unfortunately, Rhys also has to deliver the cruelest lines in the movie, and they are a painful comparison to Hob and Nob's previous strong support for Annie Mary's emancipation.

Pryce, as always, is a nasty character. It's a little disappointing that he spends the second act doing little more than drooling and giving his daughter dirty looks. Even so, his temper and disappointment in himself is comedic gold.

Griffiths, who I have enjoyed for some time now, is oft inspired as someone far too old to be living the life she's in. There are times, unfortunately, when both her energy and the movie's energy wane.

The real disappointment, though, was the shocking sexuality of the latter half of the movie. I just didn't understand why that was suddenly thrown in there.

Overall, I enjoyed it, but I think the Welsh can still do better.

Outfoxed: Rupert Murdoch's War on Journalism (2004)

Subject: A look at the distinctly conservative media bias of the Fox News Channel (FNC).

That's all it is. I don't want you to think that that made it boring because it didn't. Documentaries are usually better when they focus on one or two ideas at a time.

Robert Greenwald (director) is going to blow you away if you pick you this direct-to-video leftist luxury. He will especially blow you away if you have no idea what I am talking about when I refer to either the Fox News Channel or conservative media bias.

And, if you have conservative leanings (e.g. enjoy the National Post), you should be ashamed of your media, although real Republicans will feel nothing but pride.

Greenwald excels in keeping his camera moving in what amounts to a world of interviews and archive footage. Clever editing helps him along, though, plus graphics and music.

Which is what he criticizes the Murdoch camp for. Hmmm . . .

I suppose, though, the real criticism applies to FNC's two ad-lines, "Fair & Balanced" and "We Report. You Decide.", neither of which, I can tell you, is true and to their claim of non-partisanship while having exclusively conservative commentators on their roster.

Greenwald lost me at the end, though, with the final section entitled, "A Call to Action." Here he enlists various members of the liberal media and media watch dog groups to comment on the importance of the citizenry coming out against conservative media and the power of the individual to effect change.

I realize that a leftist denouncement of the right will have to slide that way eventually, but it just didn't jive with the rest of the movie's feel, which left me feeling a bit cold.

Also, their criticism of FNC for using basic corporate journalism practices made me wonder. The movie never claimed to be "fair" or "balanced", though, so who am I to question it?

Oh, wait, I'm the exact person they want to question it.

See, there's a little problem here that they didn't bring up. Yes, FNC has a big ol' problem with media bias. They are controlled by Rupert Murdoch, who does tell them what to report on, when to do it, and how.

Because he owns them.

But all media is corporately owned. Let's play a little game. It's called one of these things is not like the other. I want you to spot the odd one out. Here we go:

Free speech - free press - free market - private ownership.

I bet that was a tough one.

Until the public wakes up and says that they aren't going to take it anymore, the media is only going to grow more and more biased. Until we are free to run our own presses and report on the news the way it actually occurs, then we are just as well served by a conservative bias as we are by a liberal one.

I don't think I really understood that principle, though, until I saw this movie.

The movie made me understand one other thing, one which makes me pretty sad: Kerry's gonna lose.

A Slipping-Down Life (1999)

Short: Evie Decker's (Lili Taylor) life seems empty between working at Kiddie Arcades amusement park and living with her aging father. She hears Drumstrings Casey (Guy Pearce), a local musician, on the radio one night and believes she has found something with meaning, particularly with the way Drumstrings "speaks out". After carving his name into her forehead during one of his shows, the two find themselves inexplicably drawn together.

I never wanted a film to resolve more in my entire life. I mean that in the best possible way. I was watching, and I couldn't wait to see what would happen next. I kept thinking, "Things can't end this way! That can't be it!", and so the story would progress.

It was phenomenal. It was like a force of nature . . . but not the powerful hurricane/typhoon kind. It was like the wind.

Does that make sense? I feel like the wind is the most unpredictable element in nature. It can be gentle, reassuring, and welcome one minute then gusting, torrential, and dangerous the next. And always, always, I feel like the wind is trying to tell us something. I'd feel ridiculous telling you this if I didn't actually believe it.

Serious, the wind.

And that's what this film is like. Mostly slow-paced, patient with both the audience and subject matter. Yet, there were occasions when it would pick up, exploding with anger and fury. Those moments are few and far between mind you, which made them all the more unpredictable and powerful.

All of this is a credit to Toni Kalem, in her first offering as a writer-director. In fact, it's her only offering as a director to date, which is such a waste.

I have always thought that Pearce was rather sexy (and sometimes creepy), but I have never seen another film showcase it the way this one has. I had no idea he could sing and watching him up there on the stage makes it impossible to wonder why Evie is drawn to Drum the way she is.

There was something to unique about the two of them, too. Well, not unique but rare. Drum or Evie would act disinterested, and then one of them would betray everything in a single gesture, like when Drum touches a birth mark on Evie's back the first time they meet. So hot.

I realize that I discussed Taylor none too long ago, but she is such a natural talent that I find it difficult to resist her. The beauty of her face, the depth of her voice, the passion of her actions - it's all so immediate.

Man, can Pearce ever sing, though. Pearce, Taylor, and a guitar. That's all I would have needed.

Home for the Holidays (1995)

Summary: After kissing her boss, being fired from her job, and learning that her sixteen year-old daughter (Claire Danes) plans to lose her virginity that very week-end, Claudia (Holly Hunter) heads home for Thanksgiving to her doting father, Henry (Charles Durning), and panic-stricken mother, Adele (Anne Bancroft). Her brother, Tommy (Robert Downey, Jr.), shows up with Leo Fish (Dylan McDermott), instead of his boyfriend, and her little sister, Joanne (Cynthia Stevenson), seems non-plussed about the whole situation. Add in Adele's sister, Aunt Gladys, who appears to be losing her mind, and, well, it's a Thanksgiving a lot like yours.

This lovely little movie was my introduction to the sexy, winsome, and talented Hunter. I liked her and it a lot when I was younger because a fair bit of my family spent so much time apart that we basically only saw each other on holidays. Now that I am one of those people, I understand it all the more.

I also like McDermott in it since we know have such a tendency to think of him in a serious The Practice sort of a way. I never watched The Practice, and I pretty much only know him from quirky off-beat comedies like this one. I wouldn't exactly call them his strong suit, but I don't mind him here.

Downey, Jr., remains one of my fav actors because I find him so fearless as an actor. This was also around the time that he admitted to having a problem with drugs, but that never diminishes him as a person or as an actor in my mind. It may have made him difficult to work with, but he manages to give his character the flair and comedic timing necessary to carry him through.

Plus, Bancroft must be so phenomenal to work with. She seems so confident in her abilities, so capable without being condescending about it.

The actors and the way the story line is divided up into titled segments are really what sold this movie to be. Jodie Foster's direction is a little bland, and W.D. Ritcher's screenplay struggles at times. It's so weird that I could be offended by the way the movie deals with certain topics. It would, however, be unfair to say that the reactions are out-dated. If anything, that little bit on the phone with Durning towards the end is more modern than half the stuff out there.

This movie might be the little comedic gem some of us need to get us through the holiday season.

Dogfight (1991)

Brief: First let me explain the title term, as I don't want you thinking that it is meant in an air force sort of way. In this case, a group of marines about to ship out try to find the ugliest woman they can and bring her to party. The one with the ugliest girl wins the pot. Eddie Birdlace (River Phoenix) is just about to give up when he chances upon a waitress, Rose (Lili Taylor). Rose accepts his offer, but she discovers the true purpose of the party. Eddie realizes that he likes Rose, and he apologizes and takes her a proper date.

This is one of those movies that I saw a huge chunk from the middle, but neither the beginning or end, and I have always wanted to see the rest. It takes a special kind of movie to win you with the second act, n'est-ce pas?

Caution! As usual, I am about to reveal too much content.

I have previously found myself rather annoyed with movies that have people fall in love over a short period of time. I think that's crap. However, in this case, no one actually says "I love you", and I believe that's why I can still love this one.

While I find Phoenix's chemistry to be hit or miss, Taylor definitely provides us with a hit. All the awkwardness of young love and just getting together is there, and I couldn't stop smiling watching the whole thing. And, like so many movies that I like, the film glosses over the sex scene. The before and after are all we get (and all we need), and the before is so sweet that it's almost too much. Luckily, for me, it's just enough.

Honestly, I feel no need to point out anyone else that appears in the entire movie. Phoenix and Taylor are really all you need.

Like when Eddie is getting trying to work up the courage to kiss Rose, or Rose calls the rice "son-of-a-bitchin'." Those things torture me.

I don't think I could come up with a part of Bob Comfort's screenplay or Nancy Savoca that I have a problem with. Sure, I don't like that Taylor is made out to be a "dog" simply because they put her in a fat suit, but they work with that in a way that I can appreciate. As Eddie's fondness for Rose grows, she more and more beautiful she appears, as I can assure you Taylor is.

I can even dig the ending, although I understand that Phoenix walked with that limp for weeks after filming. Greater tragedy lies in that one fact than I'll ever understand.

Hoffa (1992)

Plot: The story of legendary Teamsters' leader, Jimmy Hoffa (Jack Nicholson), as seen by his right-hand man, Bobby Ciaro (Danny DeVito). Basically, the film chronicles Jimmy's life from when Bobby looses his job because of Jimmy, through Jimmy's ups and down with the Teamsters and the Mafia and his subsequent incarceration, to that fateful day when he disappeared.

To be honest, he was a pretty exciting a guy. He didn't concern himself with the law, for example. He wanted a justice. And, as the tagline claims, he was "the man who was willing to pay the price for power."

Fair enough.

Written by my dear David Mamet, I was expecting his caustic wit, his clever play on audience expectations, and his startlingly moments of human clarity.

No such luck. All the hallmarks of Mamet dialogue are there without any of the usual bite. So it made me wonder, what gives?

DeVito, that's what. While I have always respected him as an actor and a producer, I don't understand why he continues to direct. He's terrible at it! His actors give either over-the-top performances or monochromatic ones - there are no nuanced greys in here. He spends too much time setting up his cameras to pay attention to what's going on in front of them.

Nicholson falls into the over-the-top category, along with Kevin Anderson's RFK, and Armand Assante's take on the emotionally void, murmuring Mafioso. Neither hits the right emotional highs or lows, although Nicholson does his very best to confound your opinion of Hoffa. He makes it impossible to demonize or idolize the man.

DeVito also wastes a talented cast, giving J.T. Walsh, John C. Reilly, and Frank Whaley very little do with their talents. That bugged me.

In the end, I know it was a failure because I kept asking myself what the point was. Yes, I maintain that movies don't always have to have points. But people's lives do. They, in fact, invariably have points, even if we fail to recognize them. And DeVito fails to recognize Hoffa's.

Plus I didn't care for their interpretation of Hoffa's disappearance, regardless of how likely it might be.

Edward Scissorhands (1990)

Premise: After an unsuccessful day selling Avon products door-to-door, Peg Boggs (Dianne Weist) decides to call on the gothic mansion at the top of the cul-de-sac. In the mansion, she finds a young man, Edward (Johnny Depp), with scissors for hands (shock!), and she brings him home with her. Edward's attempts to fit in the suburban mold ensue, from topiary to hair design to falling in love with Peg's daughter, Kim (Winona Ryder).

You know when you read or hear of those reviews that claim some film makes you remember "why it is that you go to the movies"? For example, the way critics felt about Cameron Crowe's 2000 rock ode, Almost Famous?

That's what this film did for me. As I had mentioned, I was stuck in the land of perpetually crap movies, and I began to wonder why I bothered blogging about them.

I had thought I would find a revival/reprise when I went home for Thanksgiving, but my mom no longer gets a wackload of movie channels.

I chanced on Tim Burton's (director, for those of you who are new) bizarre combination of suburban nightmare and gothic fairy tale on Sunday, and I was so blessed to find it again.

Burton takes a lot of slack for not being a "story-teller", and he also is the recipient of a fair number of off-the-wall comparisons. Burton doesn't rely on dialogue to sell his stories (Depp utters a scant 169 words), and there's never a need for an expositionary character. So much the better I say. Burton relies on visuals to convey his meaning in a combination of chirascuro and comic book, and the viewer is the richer for it.

For me, the only comparison worth making is to the Grimm Brothers. I think they would count Burton a kindred spirit if they only knew him.

Caroline Thompson (screenwriter), in her first screen offering, clearly represents what Burton had in mind when he conceived Edward. Her screenplay, pithy and often silent, is a caricature of what we fear and recognize in suburbia. In a way, the suburban plane is the new forest of the fairy tales of old. It is instantly recognizable as the source of power, mystery, and trepidation.

In the role that helped establish him as a serious actor, as well as establish a relationship that many would claim is Burton's film representation of himself, Depp exudes childish intensity and single-mindedness. The costume does a lot, but Depp runs with this opportunity to relieve himself of his pretty face. Depp once claimed that he trusts Burton so completely as a director that he would do anything that Burton asked. Burton should count his luck stars that he could inspire such loyalty from an actor with such breadth.

Weist sparkles as woman completely awed by the negative results of doing the right thing; Alan Arkin is hysterically flawed as her Darrin Stephens-esque husband; O-Lan Jones practically steals the show as the zealous Esmeralda; and even Ryder isn't annoying.

If the rest of the film melted away tomorrow, I would have the same feeling about it if I were left with one scene: Kim dancing in a combination of man-made snow, plastic, and glitter while Edward sculpts the ice, perfectly complimented by Danny Elfman's haunting and much imitated score.

As Rolling Stone summed when the film fist debuted, "pure magic."

S1m0ne (2002)

Plan: After his demanding starlet walks off the set, Viktor Taransky (Al Pacino) must find a new actress to take the lead in his latest film. When his ex-wife, Elaine (Catherine Keener), fires him and he realizes that no actress will work with him, Viktor is fortunately willed a computer program that will allow him to create the perfect actress. Seeing her as a means to an end, Viktor uses the program to finish his beloved project and is shocked to discover that no one has noticed that his new star, Simone (Rachel Roberts) isn't real. Simone quickly becomes immensely popular with the press and the public, and Viktor struggles to control the elaborate web of lies he has created.

Ooo, and Evan Rachel Wood plays their daughter! Isn't that great? It is.

Andrew Niccol (writer/director) has really lost me on this one. See, the films within this movie look a lot like, well, Niccol's dispassionate take on a dystopian future, Gattaca. As you well know, I really like Gattaca.

So what is he saying? I didn't get the impression that he felt that he has been misunderstood because he couldn't completely manipulate his performers. I don't think that was it at all.

Honestly, what is he getting at? Is he satirizing his previous works (G and The Truman Show)?
All three of these movies are about something that is completely under the control of someone else. Is Niccol a control freak, or is he trying to tell us something?

Also, every scene that takes place in the studio or on the lot is complete barren. I always got the impression that studio/lot places where bubbling over with stressed people running to and fro, but there's no one around at all. I gave me the creeps, and I have yet to fully comprehend the significance of that choice.

Enough.

Let's talk about Keener. I just love her. She's hilarious, and she has a oddball sexiness to her that's irresistible.

I don't even think that Pacino acts anymore. I realize that much was made about Angels in America, which I have yet to see, but I honestly think that when he arrives on set, there is a sharp intake of breath. Maybe there just isn't enough out there anymore to really challenge him. On the other hand, I'm dying to see his take on Shylock.

I can tell you that this movie isn't all that good, and I'm not even sure that I would want to see it again anytime soon. I can tell you, though, that I'm pretty sure I didn't get it. The fact that that doesn't particularly concern me strikes me as a problem.

Ladder 49 (2004)

Brief: After saving a man, Jack Morrison (Joaquin Phoenix) finds himself trapped in the worst fire of his career. As his "brothers" work diligently to locate him under the guiding hand of Chief Kennedy (John Travolta), Jack looks back on his life both in and out of the fire house since his first day with Engine 33.

It's a pretty simple idea, one that has been tried and found true. Here Lewis Colick (writer) handles the emotional highs and lows effectively, something occasionally found lacking in his previous films (e.g. Bulletproof). He knows how to pluck at the heartstrings of the crowd, and I wouldn't describe this movie as anything less than emotional. Not dramatic, my friends, emotional.

What I really appreciated, though, was that it was a movie about firemen, and it was not set in New York City. Set in Baltimore, I don't recall a single mention of 9/11, a now all-too-cliched way of forcing emotion from a quickly growing embittered public. Although some lost more than most, I think that nearly everyone lost something that day, and we don't want to be reminded of it everyday on TV (thanks, anyway, CSI: NY) and in the theatres.

That said, does anyone here know a fireman? I have personally known two in all my days, and I don't think either one fits the mold set out in movies for firemen. They are inevitably one or both of the following two things: 1) Irish Catholic, and 2) third generation firefighters. Believe you me, I wouldn't make a drinking game out of spotting those two things in this movie.

Aside from that, I would vouch for Colick's screenplay. It's a romantic send-up of what we often forget complete strangers are willing to do for us, and, although not the best one I've ever seen, it comes close.

Jay Russell (director) has graduated to big kid movies (previous offerings of My Dog Skip and Tuck Everlasting) with nothing short of a bang, and he certainly attacked this one with gusto. He treats us to fine supporting performances from Travolta, Jacinda Barrett, Robert Patrick, and especially Morris Chestnut. His greatest challenge, though, is Phoenix, who barely leaves the camera's eye for single frame.

I realize that coming from me this is a much belaboured point, and I'm going to say it anyway: Phoenix is such a natural up there on the screen. Not single breath feels forced in this performance. Jack is alive with a strong and believable combination of nervousness and confidence, and Phoenix knows just when to play which level of each, making sure the audience simultaneously knows and doubts they way things are bound to end.

William Ross' score was probably the most dubious element of the entire film but mainly because it was Irish before we knew the characters were.

For me, it was entirely worth the admission fee (who doesn't have seven dollars to spare), but I'm not sure I would say it was for everyone. I stayed until the last credit had rolled by, and, as I watched my fellow moviegoers leave, there were few dry eyes.

And, on a personally amusing note: http://www.thetyee.ca/Entertainment/current/AgainstTarantino.htm