Monday, January 31, 2005

Ten Movies Worth Remembering, Part 4

A friend of mine recently commented that some of these posts come across like I have access to knowledge others don't, or feel smarter than others, etc. I think the word he was going for was 'pedantic,' but there's no way to use the word 'pedantic' without sounding precisely that, so I wasn't about to prompt him. But he has a point: I do feel like I have to do my best to encourage everyone I see know to see good films and understand why they're good. With that in mind, I've come up with ten more movies that everyone should see that, for one reason or another, have fallen off our collective cultural radar. (See the first, second, and third lists here.) Enjoy.

1. Gorky Park (1983)
2. The Contender (2000)
3. The Deep End (2001)
4. Miller's Crossing (1990)
5. The Mission (1986)
6. The Candidate (1972)
7. The Paper Chase (1973)
8. Shallow Grave (1994)
9. Whale Rider (2003)
10. Three Days of the Condor (1975)

Thursday, January 27, 2005

A Volume Of Automotive Haiku

you were always there
when i had to go to work
or a restaurant

someone once asked me
if that was my purple car
i said: cranberry

no CDs for you
a tape deck was all you had
so old school and sweet

sorry i killed you
when i hit that minivan
you took quite the bump

you were too lightweight
to survive the damage done
to your worthy frame

if my next car's blue
or black, i won't forget the
cranberry cruiser

[r.i.p., you stratus]
[2004-2005]

Tuesday, January 25, 2005

Oscar, You Foolish Little Man

Nominations for the 77th Academy Awards were announced at 5:30 PST this morning, with The Aviator unsurprisingly leading the pack with 11 nods, including Best Picture, more than any other film this year. Also nominated for Best Picture were Finding Neverland and Million Dollar Baby, the latter of which most of America hasn't seen and hadn't even heard of until Christmas. Also up are Sideways and Ray, Sideways being the better of the two but maybe reeling a little from Ray's hot publicity wave and Golden Globe wins, which look to set up Jamie Foxx as the new Will Smith.

But the nominees for Best Actor are truly disappointing. Johnny Depp and Leonardo DiCaprio were locks for the nod, which I support, and am also pleasantly surprised to see Don Cheadle be recognized for Hotel Rwanda, another film unknown by large quantities of red-staters and normal people alike. Jamie Foxx's nomination, although no surprise by now, is still more sizzle than steak. But nominating Clint Eastwood for Million Dollar Baby is unfair to Paul Giamatti, the heart and broken soul of Sideways. Giamatti gave a fantastic performance as oenophile and struggling writer Miles, who must cope with divorce and relearn what it means to be alive. Unfortunately, in the eyes of Oscar and many people, Giamatti is just this year's John C. Reilly: a gifted, diverse actor, given 15 minutes in the mainstream before being allowed to return to work. Most people probably couldn't match Giamatti's name and face, let alone realize that this is the guy who brought us the amazing and undervalued American Splendor (2003). The same newcomers talking sagely two years ago about Reilly's supporting role in Chicago (2002) probably didn't even recognize him in The Aviator as Noah Dietrich, the man helping Howard Hughes find the money to finance his dreams. So now Giamatti must walk the same road through the brief glare of transient popularity before he can go back to work and keep making great movies.

I wish I could say I was surprised at Jim Carrey's absence from this morning's list, but I'm not. He's comedy's Tom Cruise, moving slowly over the years from tedious genre exercises to better films and amazing performances (see Cruise in Magnolia for further proof). Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, the latest heartfelt odyssey of love and loss from the warped mind and brilliant pen of Charlie Kaufman, brought us Carrey as we'd never seen him: honest, nervous, quiet. Human. It's a shame he was overlooked.

Also absent from all but the technical categories and Best Animated Feature Film was The Incredibles, presumably ignored because it's a lock to win Best Animated Feature Film (if Shrek 2 takes home the Oscar I'm calling in a bomb threat), and also because even great animated films aren't considered on the same level as regular ones.

I'd be a lot more upset if all this was life or death, but it's not. So while I mourn the absence of films and actors I consider worthy of recognition, I take comfort in the knowledge that no amount of statues or undue adulation can make me pick Jamie Foxx over Paul Giamatti, or The Lord of the Rings over Mystic River and Lost in Translation. Sadly, in a few more years I might be used to this kind of disappointment. I hope not.

Monday, January 24, 2005

Poems For Mid-January

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
Sugar is sweet,
You know when you don't call me back I hide in your bushes and wait, and that's not good for either of us.

Roses are red,
Daffodils yellow,
Each passing moment,
We grow farther apart from those we love and increase our odds of dying alone and misunderstood.

Roses are red,
A joy to behold,
Whatever happens,
Life will never get any easier.

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
Flowers smell sweet,
But stronger still is the odor of failure, a clinging stench impervious to any soap and destined to hang in a cloud around our bowed, broken heads.

Roses are red,
Who cares I've never seen one.

Roses are red,
Like everyone knows,
But prettiest of all,
Is the blood flowing from your coworker's freshly broken nose after you punch her (that's right, her) for bothering you all day and smelling like an ashtray, I mean at least try the patch or something, you old hag.

Roses are red,
Some pens are black,
At the end of the day,
I need TV for hours to dull my senses and numb the ache that accompanies life, allowing me to get through one more day.

Tuesday, January 18, 2005

The Globes, The Oscars, And Why None Of It Matters

The 62nd annual Golden Globe Awards went off without a hitch Sunday, paying out little gold men to favorites in most categories: Sideways and The Aviator for motion pictures, Leonardo and Jamie Foxx (the justice of the latter to be addressed another time) for actors, and so on. The Golden Globes are almost like the home stretch of awards season; a precursor of and prelude to the Academy Awards, the Globes are often cited as having an influence on Oscar outcomes. That's not the case now: a shortened awards season puts the Globes ceremony only two weeks before Oscar nominees are announced, although it's possible that buzz around Golden Globe nominations might have some impact on Oscar nods. Regardless of the truth of this, a bigger picture exists: the awards have a remarkably short half-life, and in the long run are virtually meaningless.

Don't misunderstand me: Most films that receive Oscars genuinely deserve them. Critics might prefer one film to win Best Picture over another, but rarely does the award go to a film that shouldn't be considered. Similarly, acting Oscars are handed out both for exceptional performances, like Sean Penn in Mystic River (2003), or as nods of approval for an entire body of work despite the lower quality of the award-nominated role (e.g., Al Pacino for the forgettable Scent of a Woman [1992] and Julia Roberts for the pandering hackery of Erin Brockovich [2000]). And nobody denies that Oscars are currency: Oscar-winning actors, actresses and filmmakers are given projects meant to capitalize on their newly bestowed status as "award-worthy," although most follow-up projects aren't as good as their award-winning predecessors (e.g., Ron Howard followed up A Beautiful Mind [2001] with The Missing [2003].)

That's what Oscars (and the Golden Globes, to a lesser extent) really are: a boost in popularity, studio clout, and rentals and returns. A good film only becomes a classic when it's embraced for years or generations, and its award status then becomes secondary to its enduring power. Sure, The Godfather (1972) won several Academy Awards, but that's not why we watch it.

The proof is in the pictures. Films like Being John Malkovich (1999), Dr. Strangelove (1964), Full Metal Jacket (1987), Taxi Driver (1976), The Thin Man (1934), 12 Angry Men (1957), Singin' in the Rain (1952), Easy Rider (1969), The Shawshank Redemption (1994) and Rear Window (1954) were all nominated for Oscars but went home empty-handed. Even worse, the following films weren't even nominated: The Big Sleep (1946), Sullivan's Travels (1941), The 39 Steps (1935), Miller's Crossing (1990), and more.

And acting? Orson Welles, Glenn Close, Buster Keaton, Marlene Dietrich, Jim Carrey, Maureen O'Hara, Cary Grant, Morgan Freeman, Peter O'Toole, and many others have never won (or, obviously, will never win) Academy Awards. Directors Martin Scorsese, Robert Altman, Michael Mann, John Frankenheimer, John Cassavetes, Francois Truffaut, Spike Lee, Alfred Hitchcock, Orson Welles, Peter Weir: all respected, revered, and ignored by Oscar.

I know this probably doesn't amount to anything to anybody, and even less to those who watch awards shows for the witty pregame banter by inane, cloying red carpet pundits. But the point is this: a great film is a great film, and a popular but ultimately dated one will remain just that. You can keep your temporary flames, your Roberto Benignis and your Halle Berrys; I'm happy with Max Fischer, Tyler Durden, Andy Dufresne, Donnie Darko and other memorable characters from films with genuine stories, movies built to outlast hype and entertain generations.

Wednesday, January 12, 2005

Read It

An interesting look at voice-overs can be found here at the Criterion Colllection.

Thursday, January 06, 2005

Review: In Good Company

In Good Company
Starring Dennis Quaid, Topher Grace, Scarlett Johansson
Written and directed by Paul Weitz

3.5 stars (out of 4)

The brothers Weitz have never contented themselves with offering up stereotypes when real people seem much more interesting. In American Pie (1999), their first foray into (co-)directing, the four young men at the plot’s center behave in unique (if poorly acted) ways: prom is only mentioned to be denounced, a far cry from John Hughes and Molly Ringwald. And let’s not forget the actual pie. The story followed new conventions, obeying the spirit and toying with the letter of the laws of Generation Y comedies, masking a love for rules in an ironic (at least it thinks so) self-detachment. Paul and Chris Weitz took this desire to observe conventions while standing them on their heads to much more enjoyable (thanks to the source material) heights in About A Boy (2002), in which Hugh Grant played the most believable version of himself yet committed to film.

In Good Company (originally titled Synergy) is being billed alternately as a fish-out-of-water story about a young boss and older subordinate and as a romantic comedy between that young boss and his subordinate’s daughter, and although those are two aspects of the film, to distill it like that robs it of the truth, humor and depth that director Paul Weitz brings to his original screenplay.

Carter Duryea (Topher Grace) gets a promotion and a divorce at the same time, a lot to handle for a 26-year-old. His new job puts him in charge of ad sales at a major sports magazine, where his No. 2 is former department head Dan Foreman (Dennis Quaid), 51-year-old father of two with a third on the way. Nervous about bungling the job because of his inexperience, Carter blurts out his fears to a girl on the elevator, who turns out to be Alex (Scarlett Johansson), SUNY freshman and Dan’s daughter. Carter doesn’t learn this until he invites himself over to Dan’s for dinner one night and meets his family, an event that begins his friendship and subsequent romantic relationship with Alex. Carter’s divorce has left him reeling more than even he can realize, and he latches on to Dan and, more strongly, to Alex. He’s on the rebound but doesn’t know it, and needs Alex to point it out to him.

The focus here is on the changing relationships between members of the triangle at the heart of the story, but In Good Company juggles several plotlines with more success than I anticipated: Dan and his wife preparing for a new child, Carter and Dan’s relationship, Carter and Alex’s relationship, Carter’s maturation, Carter and Dan’s job safety in the face of changing office politics, etc. Unfortunately Dan’s wife, Ann (Marg Helgenberger), gets short shrift, and his other daughter is barely noticeable. As if that weren’t enough, memorable character actors like David Paymer are given so little to do I wondered if maybe Paymer had a day off and decided to wander through the set, ad libbing as he went.

The film tries to be more than a typical romantic or workplace comedy, and mostly succeeds, thanks in large part to Quaid’s steady confidence as a man barely keeping it together. Quaid’s career has received some uplift since Traffic (2000) and The Rookie (2002), and here he hits his stride as one of the few men in Hollywood not afraid to play his own age. His self-assured leadership stands in stark contrast to Carter’s go-get-’em jargon-laden pep; Carter wants to take a client to a Jay-Z concert, while Dan would rather settle a deal with a beer and a handshake.

All of Topher Grace’s film appearances have been designed to put himself a little further beyond That ’70s Show, but cameos for Soderbergh and pony shows for preteens weren’t getting the job done. This is his first comedic lead role, and he carries it well, his performance bolstered by the possibility of good works yet to come. Carter isn’t Gordon Gecko; it’s that his success outweighs his age and his mind is trying to reconcile the two. We get the feeling his nose has always been in a book, and he missed the day at school that taught everybody how to interact socially (I know a few others with the same problem). Carter longs for Alex because he knows he should: he doesn’t know what it is to not long for somebody or something. His confession of love is a plea, and Weitz does us the favor of playing it that way.

Yes, there’s a three-way confrontation scene, but it doesn’t pan out the way you’d expect. Ditto the last-ditch effort by Dan and Carter to impress their schmuck of a boss, Steckle (Clark Gregg). But just as in Weitz’s earlier films, it’s the (mildly) unexpected turns that keep us interested and make what could have been a boring exercise in genre into an enjoyable, heartfelt comedy.

Monday, January 03, 2005

A Continuing List Of Suggestions For Better Living, Or Resolutions, To Be Carried Out In The New Year

19. Stop drooling in my sleep. This will not help me with women, and in fact will probably wind up hurting my case.

20. Convince myself it's not gay to enjoy reality/fantasy programming commonly embraced by gay culture. Repeat mantra as necessary until all doubts are removed: notgaynotgaynotgaynotgaypleaselordineedawomannotgaynotgayboobsnotgay, etc.

21. Tell my roommate who owns a pipe and reads Ayn Rand he's a douchebag for owning a pipe and reading Ayn Rand.

22. Quit my job when I realize I liked being unemployed better. Work at local video store with expectations for life comfortably lowered.

23. Visit homes of everyone who's read The DaVinci Code. Kick them in the nuts. Move on.

24. Wear MC Hammer-esque parachute pants on casual Fridays. Turn stares of confusion into jealousy when I do the running man in my cube with far greater flexibility than denim allows.

25. Steal co-worker Joyce's office supplies and feign ignorance when interrogated about the crime. Continue until she attributes missing items to Alzheimer's. Return missing supplies. Repeat process until I am promoted or she quits.

26. Buy set of tools and workbench to feel like a real man. Cry myself to sleep when I realize it doesn't work.

27. Ignore voices in my head exhorting me to scourge myself with steel wool when I think Dirty Thoughts.

28. Teach myself to use restrooms at work. The 90-minute commute for the comfort of my own john is growing inconvenient.

29. Ignore #28 above. There's no place like home.