Leia is a Disney Princess

I do not spend my days randomly pretending I'm from Endor or Tatooine or that I'm about to blow up the Death Star.  Sure, I have a Harry Potter wand and the One Ring and have played the Lost numbers in the lottery and have a stack of Marvel comic books from when I was a kid and maybe a few from last week and have the Khaleesi's dragon egg (I'm aware I'm coming off as hyper-nerdy here, but when the shoe fits, it fits), but Star Wars has never been my cup of obsession.  I can appreciate them, and have learned to truly respect and admire Episodes IV and V, but I don't sit around hoping that I shall realize my Jedi mind powers.  I have more important things to do, like calling the post office to see if my Hogwarts acceptance letter simply got lost 15 years ago.

So I shouldn't have much of an opinion on the recent Disney merger, but I do, I just haven't formed it yet, so this is going to be a bit of free-form writing.  Part of me is depressed-George Lucas created something so wonderful with those first two movies (and Return of the Jedi hadn't spoiled it too much), that it's depressing to think that wonder, already so dimmed by the modern films and the television series and the incessant toy and game market, will further be dimmed by more movies.  Not everything needs to be a franchise-James Bond is the only franchise that should be constantly reinvented, and only after we've had the Bond for 4-5 movies.  Star Wars is fine with those six films-we don't need to redo or add even more movies, and we certainly don't need it to continue creating content for 100 years, as Lucas stated.  For the record, this is also true of Spider-Man, Batman, Superman, X-Men, and since it's going to happen soon whether we like it or not: Harry Potter, Twilight, Lord of the Rings, Hunger Games, and The Avengers can all be left alone forever or once the current franchises/actors are done; we've got what we needed from them, and if we want more, we'll go to Netflix and re-watch.

And yet, there's something to the, if they're going to do it, do it now sort of mentality.  Lucas won't direct, but he has signed on as a creative consultant, and he's not getting any younger.  There has always been the rumors of an Episode VII-IX, and whatever your feelings on Lucas (we all have opinions about him), the man created Star Wars, and it would be wrong to make the final three films without him.  Plus, let's face it-even if they're bad, we want to see what Lucas always envisioned for the series.  If it's true that he always planned nine episodes of the franchise, it'd be fascinating to see what he's still got left.

But that's where I as a filmgoer want it to end, and I know that Disney can't do that, so the ying to my excitement is a yang of depression.  There's too much money to be had in creating endless sequels and TV series and cartoons and remakes and a vast pit of other money-making schemes.  If any company knows how to both make pure magic (name a better movie than Pinocchio or Fantasia...still waiting), they also know how to mine that magic until there's nothing left.  Think of how many Tinkerbell and Lion King and Disney Princess direct-to-video sequels exist.  Everything that was fun about those movies has gotten flushed down the corporate greed toilet.  I have no problem with the toys and the bed sheets and the shampoo bottles-kids should be able to gravitate to a franchise even if it isn't the one that was intended for their generation, but why the sequels?  Why not leave the art-aspect of the filmmaking unspoiled?  Sadly even Disney's crown jewel, Pixar, has started to go the unnecessary sequel route (the only Pixar film that needed another sequel is The Incredibles, and it seems like that's the only one that's not getting one).

But this is falling on deaf ears, so I will enjoy the brief remaining moments when we get Episodes 7-9 and dread what will come next.  Thank you for listening to this movie fan's (and Star Wars admirer's) rant.

OVP: The Illusionist (2010)

Film: The Illusionist (2010)
Stars: Jean-Claude Donda, Elilidh Rankin
Director: Sylvain Chomet
Oscar History: 1 nomination (Best Animated Feature)
Snap Judgment Ranking: 3/5 stars

The race for Best Animated Feature in 2010 was brutal.  There was, of course, the immovable objects of Toy Story 3 and How to Train Your Dragon, both of which were wildly praised by critics, and then, thanks to a smaller than usual annual crop, there were three films fighting over one final slot with Oscar: Disney's latest princess installment of Tangled, the surprise hit Despicable Me, and the vastly under seen The Illusionist.  And yet, when it came down to AMPAS making its decision, it bucked Disney and Universal, and instead chose the understated, quiet story of a man who befriends a young woman in 1950's Edinburgh.  So, of course, you can imagine my excitement at seeing this film that was deemed better than two massive Hollywood moneymakers, and while it surprised and delighted, I'm equally surprised that the Academy chose such a soft, gentle film over something so marketable.  Perhaps I should be less of a cynic.

But I digress, as there's a film at hand to get to, and we shall do just that.  The movie tells the story of a man, an aging illusionist who has found that his parlor tricks and rabbit-pulling is slowly losing its place in the world.  The film is based on a screenplay by renowned film director, comedian, and mime Jacques Tati.  If you've never heard of him, and I'll admit I was only passingly familiar, he's clearly worth a look-on Entertainment Weekly's list of the best directors of all time, he ranks, with only six films to his name; my Netflix queue is a bit fuller as a result.   The film is very autobiographical (more on that in a second), and is deeply melancholy and full of bitter whimsy.  You get to see that with the advent of rock music, television, radio, and film, there's little room left for a man who can simply perform basic illusions, as if from a magic starter kit.

The illusionist's world is shaken as the film goes on (spoilers to come in this quiet, lovely film), with him taking under his wing a young girl/woman who truly believes that he is doing real magic, and who follows him to Edinburgh after he gives her the present of some red shoes.  The illusionist tries desperately to keep up the charade of being an authentic magician, working more and more demeaning jobs in order to buy the young girl beautiful things she sees in shop windows.  Eventually, he is forced to sell his magician's kit and free his rabbit in order to make ends meet.  The film editorializes a bit throughout the second half of the film on how people become obsolete-we see the clowns and ventriloquists who make up his world slowly become homeless and suicidal.  The girl eventually meets a handsome young man whom she falls in love with, and the illusionist, seeing this, realizes that it is time to go on.  Before he goes, though, as a way of letting down the girl and perhaps trying to convince himself, he writes a note declaring that there is no such thing as magic.  In the end of the movie, we see him once again on a train, performing some slight of hand, and clutching the photo of a young girl, which the movie never reveals whether she is the girl he has taken under his wing (or perhaps she is just a surrogate).

The film has little to no discernible dialogue, and aside from a smattering of French, the characters rarely speak.  This makes the film almost silent in a way, which works wonders for it, particularly considering that the inspiration for the film was a mime.  I loved the color palette of the animation-all pastel reds and yellows and browns-and the characters are so lovely, like out of a French children's book.  The pacing does border onto the dull on occasion-particularly the middle third, where you're hoping to see the illusionist's life move in one way or another, rather than a very gradual slide, can try the patience.  Overall, though, it was a fine, if very small film to be nominated for an Oscar, with some moments that astound.  Particularly the end moment where the illusionist has confessed to the girl that there is no such thing as magic, and you are left to wonder if he too believed in it at one point.

The film was marred in some controversy when it was first released.  Because of the revered screenwriter (Tati meant to make this film after his beloved and Oscar-winning Mon Oncle), there was a lot of pressure on the Oscar-nominated Chomet (who also made The Triplets of Belleville) to deliver a great film, but in doing so, he neglected to call out the Tati's estranged daughter, who was the inspiration from the script.  Tati was allegedly writing the screenplay as a penance to his illegitimate eldest child, whom he regretted not knowing better when she was younger.  Though Tati himself is clearly on display in the film (Mon Oncle plays in one of the theaters attended by the illusionist), his daughter is never mentioned.

All-in-all, though, this was a worthwhile investment of my time, and though we'll get to where it ranks amongst the nominated (and un-nominated) animated films of 2010, I shall say that I give it a thumbs up.

What about you?  Are you a fan of The Illusionist?  Where does it rank on your particular Chomet film preferences?  And what about Jacques Tati-are you a fan, and where should a beginner start amongst his films?  Do tell in the comments!

OVP: Argo (2012)

Film: Argo (2012)
Stars: Ben Affleck, Bryan Cranston, Alan Arkin, John Goodman, Victor Garber, Tate Donovan, Clea DuVall
Director: Ben Affleck
Oscar History: 7 nominations/3 wins (Best Picture*, Supporting Actor-Alan Arkin, Adapted Screenplay*, Editing*, Original Score, Sound Mixing, Sound Editing)
Snap Judgment Ranking: 5/5 stars

The Academy and I clearly don't agree on everything (otherwise the OVP would be pointless), but there are occasions that we are in full agreement, and I suspect Argo is going to be one of them.  While we still have Les Miserables, Zero Dark Thirty, and Life of Pi to come, it'd be foolish to not call Argo the Best Picture frontrunner.  It has a spectacular and compelling story arch, a taut script, and some great performances to crow about in trade ads.  All-in-all, Ben Affleck's film is a home run, and while it may not make it to the top of my personal list (I have a lot of movies to see still), four months out, it seems highly improbable that it won't get the top prize at the Kodak.

I may be getting ahead of myself, though, since we haven't even had a chance to discuss the actual film at-hand, so let's rectify that situation.  The movie, for those unfamiliar, tells the tale of what is popularly known as the Canadian Caper, a moment in 1980 when six Americans, through the help of both the CIA and the Canadian embassy, were able to sneak out of Iran and back to the United States.  The six were not part of the original hostage count in Iran, and instead had left the embassy before the hostages were taken.  The CIA, in a mission led in the film by Agent Tony Mendez (Ben Affleck) create a cover for the six-that they are scouting a location for a cheesy science-fiction movie, and gives them all fake identities to get them through customs.

The first half of the film focuses on establishing Affleck's character, one of the "good guys" constantly in need of correcting his family life, rough around the edges, but his heart is in the right place.  It's the sort of role that used to be played by Gene Hackman.  The first half also gets all of the great, Hollywood-insider type lines.  Since this is based on a true story, we get a real-life Oscar-winner (makeup maestro John Chambers) to show up in the form of John Goodman.  Goodman's makeup artist, as well as Alan Arkin's mega-producer Lester Siegel (don't believe that one's a real person, but you can correct me in the comments if you'd like, or say who it's based upon), help Mendez to set up a movie, complete with a script, a producer's office, and fake press.  It's an incredible part of the film, not just because you get to see some of the ridiculousness that goes into greenlighting a movie (gotta love that cheesy script read), but also because you get some terrific onscreen chemistry between Arkin and Goodman.  I know that a lot has been said about Arkin's strong chances with the Academy, and I can see it (Supporting Actor loves nothing better than a cranky but smart old man), but I have to say that if they're going with Arkin, it seems unfair to skip Goodman as well; Goodman's career has not had as many great highs as it should have (probably because he's not the "leading man" type), but he's an excellent actor, and is clearly having a strong year in Hollywood.  Perhaps a twofer would be a way to honor a superb and obviously well-liked character actor?

Anyway, back to the movie, and the even better second half of the film (also-gotta throw in the spoiler alert here).  The second half is focused almost entirely on the caper of trying to get these six hostages out of Iran, with Mendez showing up for the six men and women and giving them their backstories to memorize, as well as trying to sell them on the idea that they need to leave the embassy.  This is also when Affleck's acting instincts come fully into play.  What we know, and seemingly the six hostages don't, is that the clock is running out whether or not the hostages are going forward with the plan or not-their identities are being discovered, and the pressure on the Canadians is growing exponentially to leave the country as well.  However, Affleck's Mendez never indicates the impending doom, keeping an already agitated bunch of clearly intelligent, but frayed, people from completely losing their cool and then blowing the cover (which would mean execution for all six).

This entire act leads up to a nerve-wracking (in the best possible sense) series of scenes in the airport, where you hold your breath the entire time, waiting and hoping for the six to get through each customs point.  Throughout the act, you are seeing alternating scenes with the great Bryan Cranston (seriously, the casting director on this film deserves some sort of nomination just for putting together this fine, era-appropriate ensemble), desperately trying to push everyone in the State Department all the way up to the White House to approve the mission, which in true Hollywood fashion had been called off the night before.  The great part about this series of scenes is that, if you take a breath to think about it, there should be little to no drama for the audience.  Even if you're not familiar with the Canadian Caper (being born years after the Iranian Hostage situation, I must admit that I was not), you have to assume that if they're making a movie on the subject, the people don't randomly die at the airport-what studio would possibly approve that sort of an ending?  And yet, thanks to some terrific editing and sharp performances by Affleck and Cranston throughout those scenes, you are so immersed in the film that you don't have time to get outside the movie and think rationally.  When the six men and women get out of Iranian airspace, I could see tears flowing not just onscreen, but all around my theater.  Maybe even in my own glasses.

Affleck as a director, as you may remember, is a subject we have visited before.  This is obviously a better movie than even the solid The Town, and perhaps Affleck's casual reference to Warren Beatty in the middle of the film is meant as wish fulfillment-though it's not quite up to the epic scale of Reds, this is equal to it in terms of quality, and a major stepping stone for Affleck as a director.  Both men were dismissed as pretty boys in their early career, and while Beatty is the better actor of the two, both men made a strong transition over to director.  Affleck's problem now is to not do what Warren did after Reds-essentially fall completely off the face of the earth for six years, and then make Ishtar.  Getting a script from Elaine May could sound like a good idea Ben, but I'd avoid it for the time being.

I've gone through the plot, and particularly called out Affleck, the Goodman/Arkin chemistry, and the swell casting director, but I do want to highlight a couple more great points in the film.  Rodrigo Prieto, who does the cinematography, does a spectacular job of creating that classic 1970's vibe (the film that most comes to mind is Z, which admittedly was from the tale-end of the 1960's, but it profoundly influenced film of the 1970's).  Not only does he get that great "FYC" ad during the end credits, but the entire movie has that gravelly brown and burgundy sort of look that instantly recalls the more evenly paced films of the 1970's.

The other callout I want to make is to Clea DuVall.  If there is a slight miss on Affleck's part (there are no perfect movies except Chinatown and Casablanca) it's that some of the characters don't quite get the full story arch as others, and a lot of the hostages are more blank slate than actual person.  This may be intentional to better have the audience identify with these people, but that doesn't mean it's not a bit of a miss when we're further on into the film.  DuVall, though, does what great actors do with vague parts-she gives it a personality and a soul.  If you've seen the film, you recall her first amongst the hostages, and not because she's the biggest name amongst them (she's not-Tate Donovan is almost assuredly the most recognizable of the six), but because her character is not a background character-you can see in her eyes that her nerves are shot, that she's largely given up on getting home, and that she's pleading with herself that there's hope in this plan, even when the others are doubting.  DuVall, filled with such passion in her acting and a terrific angular beauty, has always been able to fill her sideline characters with a lot of passion.  Remember her one scene in Zodiac? If you've seen the film, you almost certainly do, and yes, it's just one late in the movie scene that she rides high.  This is not the showy sort of acting that gets Oscar nominations, but it is the sort that should be considered for it, or at the very least, should get casting directors to give DuVall larger and more substantial roles.

Finally, I do want to address the obvious political implications of the film.  Affleck is a noted liberal in Hollywood, and it's worth noting that President Jimmy Carter plays a crucial offscreen role throughout the film.  In a world of political opportunism, it's refreshing to realize that a President Carter did not politically capitalize on this daring feat of national ability.  It's quite possible (at least in the confines of the film and within the confines of common sense) that Carter would have gained greatly from revealing the CIA's involvement in this particular incident, rather than putting the credit solely on Canada.  It may have even gotten him reelected in 1980, when the Iranian Hostage Crisis almost assuredly cost the President the White House.  Carter himself does a voiceover at the end of the film (it's not entirely clear whether or not the president was doing this specifically for the movie or not, but it seems that way) essentially pointing out this exact same thing.  It's an interesting study of history, and in a film that's dominated by one man's (Mendez's) actions in what he knows to be right, you also see Affleck reminding us that there was another man (Carter) moving heaven and earth to try to do what he thought to be right.

And that's all for me on Argo for now, but with a great movie, there's lots more conversation to be had, so what say you of this fine film?  Do you think that Affleck is best behind the camera, or do you like him taking the dual roles?  How do you think that the film blended its politics with its story?  And, in the obvious vein of this blog, what are its Oscar chances?

OVP: Frankenweenie (2012)

Film: Frankenweenie (2012)
Stars: Charlie Tahan, Catherine O'Hara, Martin Short, Winona Ryder, Martin Landau, Conchata Ferrell
Director: Tim Burton
Oscar History: 1 nomination (Best Animated Feature)
Snap Judgment Ranking: 3/5 stars

Tim Burton has fallen on hard times creatively-yes, everyone in the world seemingly saw his look down the rabbit hole, but that doesn't make it a good movie.  In fact, it's hard to fathom that the man who made the dreadful Charlie and the Chocolate Factory remake also was responsible for the blissful Nightmare Before Christmas.  Happily, he still occasionally graces the world of animation, and so we got the fun, if fairly simple, Frankenweenie.

The film, shot in a beautiful black-and-white, is about a young boy named Victor (just one of many allusions to the Mary Shelley novel and the James Whale films) whose beloved dog has died from being hit by a car.  Not one to take mortality lying down, Victor is struck by an idea during a wildly manic lecture by his science teacher (brilliantly voiced by Burton treasure Martin Landau).  He decides to bring back his aptly-named dog Sparky with a combination of lightning and household appliances.  The sequence is probably the best part of the movie-eerily filled with old monster movie magic and lots of fun (but not excessive) Burton touches, of course the dog comes back to life, patched together with pillow sheets and handy sewing work on the tail.

Of course, this being the Frankenstein story, Sparky doesn't stay a secret for long, and in a quest to win the science fair, Victor's many classmates blackmail and scheme there ways into bringing back pets of their own, though they end up being true monsters rather than the adorable Sparky.  Since this is a children's movie, we learn that it is love that caused Sparky to be able to be sweet and stay alive, but don't let that sugary anecdote make you think that the film doesn't have a dark-and-twisted side.  While Burton doesn't seem capable of manifesting that macabre into his live-action films, instead relying on grand and ornate set pieces and costumes to make up the difference, his animated films still have that sense of dement.

I will throw in a caveat right here about the dement-I'm not normally a good gage of what children should watch or not (this isn't a Movie Mom blog), but I will say that the four-year-olds sitting in front of me were loudly sobbing both times that Sparky died, so parents should proceed with caution.

Burton relies on many of his regulars in the vocal cast, though oddly his most-used favorites of late, Johnny Depp and Helena Bonham Carter, are nowhere to be found.  O'Hara, Short, Ryder, Landau, and Ferrell have all been in Burton's films prior to this, and they quickly adapt well to the tone of his film.  I've already mentioned Landau, playing the over-the-top science teacher, as a highlight, and while O'Hara voices a number of characters, the best by far is the character simply named "Weird Girl," who has an unhealthy obsession with her cat, and its feces alleged psychic ability (it sounds weird, and it is, but it works in the film's grossest sight gag).  This is their third film together, and once again Ryder is cast as the goth, good-natured but odd girl, and though she's fine, it's not exactly out-of-the-box casting-before she even spoke I could tell that this character would be played by Ryder.

The film gets a teensy bit repetitive in the final third of the film, and the sappy/sweet ending had an internal war over whether it was charming or saccharine, but overall this is a film I'd recommend.  Though its box office has been weak, it's got the sort of delicious animation the Academy goes for, particularly in a five-wide field, though I do hope that it doesn't come at the expense of the similarly-themed, but better Paranorman.  Paranorman may not have had as flashy of animation, but its story was solid, and its characters will stick longer with you.  Either way, though, both are fun ways to spend Halloween viewing, and its always good to see Burton striving for excellence once again.

And now, over to you-what'd you think of Frankenweenie?  Where does it rank in Burton's lengthy filmography?  And between Frankenweenie, Paranorman, and the similarly themed Hotel Transylvania, do you have a favorite?

American Horror Story: Tricks and Treats (#2.2)

For many of us (okay, for me), AHS was an odd replacement for our weekly Lost fixations, but it occasionally works.  I mean, there's a lot of intrigue over mistaken identities, who will get their comeuppance, and what hidden meanings are behind the different books, music, and pop culture references that are flung around in the show.  The comparison stops there (Lost, for those who loved it, was also about the power of hope, redemption, love, and forgiveness, and was on a different level than AHS), but no matter-they both seem to fill the same void, so I'm going with that.

The reason I bring up Lost is that AHS sure is setting up exactly what we don't know rather early this season.  For starters, the identity of Bloody Face (spoilers, oh the spoilers to come) which was obviously hinted at last night to be Dr. Arden (James Cromwell), but I think that seems like too easy of an answer.  There's no doubt that he's very creepy, and I have a suspicion we'll see the prostitute that he was trying to bind and gag later on in the season either as a future victim or a future patient at the hospital, but I think that Ryan Murphy would probably have gone with someone else as the Bloody Face-one of the aliens, perhaps, or maybe even Joseph Fiennes (it would be the ultimate kicker if Evan Peters, probably the least likely suspect since he's the one who is being accused of it since Episode 1, turned out to actually be Bloody Face).  Either way, I'm not buying that they gave us such an easy answer so early on in the show's run.

Overall, Wednesday's (I'll try not to be so late in the future) episode was a fun ride for me, though.  All of the performers seem to be having a blast, in particular Peters, Jessica Lange, and Sarah Paulson.  Peters, who gave an incredible performance last year, continues to do great work with a character that isn't as flashy as Tate Langdon.  Kit Walker remains a complicated character-I'm not buying that he's totally innocent or without any sin here (on these shows, no one ever is), but even if he isn't, his woefully abused character is an interesting commentary on how quickly we jump to accuse people of guilt.

Sarah Paulson's Lana Banana (god love Jessica Lange) knows a thing or two about that-the way that she was willing to sacrifice her own freedom because she thought he was the killer-I think that decision is going to come back to haunt her later in the season.  Though it looks like from next week's previews that another escape is being planned, my gut instinct is that for Lana, that may have been her one chance to escape the asylum.  Her motives remain a bit of a mystery-was she simply too good hearted to let a man she assumes is a murderer run free, or was it something greedier, like she suddenly realized if she wanted that Pulitzer Prize, she'd need to stay in the asylum a bit longer?  Either way, that was an interesting way for Murphy to stop cold the first (of likely several) escape plans.

It'd be foolish not to at least mention the main attraction on the show, though, Ms. Jessica Lange, and here, the way that she interacts with a patient possessed by a demon.  Of course, in a true Lost-like metaphor, we learned little about the actual demon in the unfortunate young man's body (except I think it seems pretty real, and that Lily Rabe will be the next host, which should be great fun for those of us who wanted her to stretch her acting legs a bit more after last season), and learned a great deal about Sister Jude's personal demons.  She was, to put it as gentlemanly of terms as possible, a "loose" woman, and we saw that when she was crooning at a bar (shades of Sweet Dreams, Lange's Oscar-nominated performance in 1985-OVP to the rescue!) and got rejected by a man who didn't want to bring her home.  On her drunken drive home, we see her strike a young girl with her car, presumably killing her.  I'm guessing that this is when she finds god, though I'm curious to see how (this can't possibly be an if) this comes back to haunt her.  We also got to see some of Sister Jude's humanity-this isn't a Constance Langdon sort of cold woman, despite what her demeanor may suggest.  I am starting to think that, in an odd twist compared to last season, this season's heros may end up being Evan Peters and Jessica Lange-could be wrong, but that would be an odd wink at last season's legions of fans.

But now I'll turn it over to you, as I have to get ready for a day at the movies-what were your thoughts on "Tricks and Treats?"  We didn't have time to get to Zachary Quinto, so have at his mysteriously noble psychiatrist in the comments.  And so far, are you more a fan of Briarcliff or the Murder House?

The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel (2012)

Film: The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel (2012)
Stars: Judi Dench, Tom Wilkinson, Bill Nighy, Penelope Wilton, Maggie Smith, Ronald Pickup, Celia Imrie, Dev Patel
Director: John Madden
Oscar History: None (though it received two Golden Globe nods for Best Picture and Dench)
Snap Judgment Ranking: 3/5 stars

Getting a bunch of classically-trained British actors into the same picture and throwing them into an awkward, laugh-inducing film has to be one of the most tried-and-true ways for Independent features to make money.  For the art house set, is there any better Box Office Gold than Judi Dench or Maggie Smith?  In fact, while I am loathe to put them into the same sentence as that complete publicity hound Andy Cohen, I could see a solid mash-up between the two for television.  Anyone else think that putting Dench, Smith, Miriam Margoyles, Eileen Atkins, Helen Mirren, and Joan Plowright into the The Real Housewives of the Royal Shakespeare Company would be a huge, huge hit?

But I digress, and must confess, it wasn't until Sunday that I finally got around to one of the biggest "surprise" hits of the year, The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel.  The film, for those unfamiliar (and I suspect if you're reading this blog regularly, this is a film that you've already enjoyed), it's a movie about a group of seven aging British men and women, who, whether through a search for love, a search for health, or a search for a cheap place to live, find themselves living in a rundown hotel in India.

The movie then follows as the characters slowly reach the same conclusion-that you can always have new experiences in life, and it's only over when it's over.  It's hard to pick a favorite story line, though I'd probably settle for Wilkinson's, which was the most interesting, or Smith's, which had the most Maggie Smith and is therefore bound to be everyone's favorite.  Wilkinson's character (spoiler alert) is gay, and spends much of the movie searching out a love he had many years ago in India, and it's the story that you kind of wish was in a separate movie, as you can never have enough "brief affair, spend the rest of your life pining for a love" sort of movies.  Wilkinson, an actor of immeasurable talents, doesn't quite put all of his considerable skills into this role, but he's quite fine when he wants to be, and he totally sells the inevitable reunion moment.

This is the same for Dench and Smith, neither of whom share enough screen time together, but both of whom deliver that patented level of performance that they are well-known for.  Dench, solid and strong-willed, manages to use her soulful eyes and still beautifully structured face to great effect as she charms everyone that meets her-it's hard to believe that she was a quiet, doormat at the beginning of the movie, as she's so skilled with people throughout the film.  Smith, of course, is a biting old British woman (isn't she always?), and gets all of the film's best lines, and though you know the character trajectory about ten seconds into her first scene, that doesn't stop it from still being a fun ride-Smith has a rare talent for comedy, and it's on full display here.  Both of these women could land nominations at the Globes, though I think a trip to the Kodak (or whatever it's being called these days-should check that at some point) seems a stretch for a film as souffle-light as this film.

All-in-all, this is a great film to watch on a Sunday afternoon, with some tea and scones in hand, and to have a marvelous time with friends, but don't go in hoping for one of the best films of the year, as this doesn't quite have the gravitas or the breath to meet those expectations.

What about you-did you enjoy Best Exotic?  Are you more Team Judi or Team Maggie or Team "Don't-Make-Me-Decide-Such-Things?"  And what, if any, Oscar chances do you think the film has?

OVP: Country Strong (2010)

Film: Country Strong (2010)
Stars: Gwyneth Paltrow, Tim McGraw, Garrett Hedlund, Leighton Meester
Director: Shana Feste
Oscar History: 1 nomination (Original Song-"Coming Home")
Snap Judgment Ranking: 2/5 stars

I remember the exact moment that I found out that Gwyneth Paltrow could sing.  It was in a grocery store, and her version of "Cruisin" appeared on the Muzak, and I was hooked.  I mean, not hooked enough to actually go out and see Duets (the trailer did not look good-if it's something I should investigate, let me know), but enough to be excited about when Gwyneth would next tackle another musical.  Unfortunately for all of us, it took a decade for that opportunity to come up, and even more unfortunate, it was in the form of the mediocre, cliched Country Strong.

Spoilers to follow I will explain the plot of Country Strong, but you already know it, so it seems like an exercise in futility.  The story is about a recently recovering alcoholic/musical superstar (Paltrow), who is trying to stage a comeback that her husband (McGraw) keeps pushing, despite her clearly not being ready for the limelight again. It's also about her affair with a younger stud (Hedlund) who is also on the outskirts of stardom, and also wrestling between the charms of the alluring Paltrow and the younger, on-the-rise Chiles Stanton (Meester, sporting a moniker that basically forces you to be a country singer).

We all know where this is going-after some hemming, hawing, and cheating: Paltrow returns to her husband and puts on that one great concert, sealing her fate before she slips quietly into the night, and Hedlund and Meester find happiness just being with each other, not caring too much for the shiny lights of stardom, and settling for love.  It's an ending that people enjoy (I'm not entirely knocking happy endings), but the troubled music superstar story line is one of the oldest ones out there, and it's so formulaic that it's hard to get excited about the actual film.  It's not like there aren't strong attributes-Paltrow, despite all of the naysayers (what is lost in the whole 1998 Best Actress battle is that both women put on strong performances, even if you preferred Blanchett's dramatics to Paltrow's comedic), has a star quality about her that is hard to deny.  It's a pity that we see her Kelly fall so quickly and rise so late, because clearly this is a woman who could pull off "top of her game."  One of the reasons that I've been drawn to ABC's new show Nashville is that we get to see two women who are performing at the top of their games, so it isn't completely obvious who will win in the end (don't just assume because she's the villain that Hayden is the loser).  It'd have been interesting to see a little more Eve Harrington/Margo Channing in the film moments between Paltrow and Meester and a little less, drunk cat and wimpy mouse.

Garrett Hedlund, doing his best sexy country boy, and has some pipes on him, enough so that I may stop confusing him with the Hemsworth brothers with time.  The less said about Meester's performance the better, as her character arch makes no sense-how is it that she becomes less confident the more successful she gets, and with no one commenting on it?  Ditto McGraw's domineering husband-is he mourning the loss of his unborn child, or is he just a jerk who is using Kelly for her money?  It's hard to say, mostly because McGraw just sulks and considers an affair with Meester the entire movie (a story that goes nowhere, by the way).  And also, how is it that you cast Tim McGraw in a country music movie and you never have him sing?!?

The best thing about this film is the soundtrack, and that's where the OVP aspect of this review comes into play.  The film received an Oscar nomination for Best Original Song for "Coming Home," a charming country ballad, though why they didn't go with the far catchier and more memorable title song, I have no idea (case in point-I had to go listen to "Coming Home" on iTunes to remember what the song sounded like, but "Country Strong" I know the chorus by heart).  Hedlund also has a number of wonderful, gravelly country songs in his repertoire, and if you really want to enjoy this film, buying the CD and skipping the DVD would probably be your best way to go.  Though I will say that I'd love to see both Paltrow and Hedlund tackle a different musical in the future, albeit one with a better screenplay.

And with that, let's turn it over for you-what did you think of Country Strong, and "Coming Home" in particular?  Do you think it deserved Best Song in the odd 2010 lineup?  What would be the best musical vehicle for Gwyneth in the future?  And finally, do you also think Garrett Hedlund looks like a Hemsworth brother?

American Horror Story: Welcome to Briarcliff (#2.1)

So, where were we?  Sorry for the prolonged absence-a series of work, vacations (lots of Broadway-if you're in NYC, you should do yourself a favor and see Annie, The Heiress, The Mystery of Edwin Drood, or Once-all a fun time at the theater), and quite frankly, an addicting indulgence into the world of Game of Thrones (more to come on that front) has kept me from typing, but I'm back, and while I have a couple of OVP films to get out into the world, I want to start with my (admittedly late) trip to the world of Briarcliff Manor.

Just a reminder-I get super spoiler-y on my recaps, so if you're like me and nearly a week behind on your television viewing, bookmark this recap and watch the show first!

The first episode opens on Adam Levine and Janna Dewan-Tatum started the show with a romantic rendezvous in the horror house.  Being that this is AHS, the dalliance is a little more than kinky, and faster than you can say Casey Becker, Adam Levine is lying in a pool of his own blood, his arm in the general vicinity of the rest of his body, leaving poor Janna Dewan-Tatum running through the house.  It was a storyline that was harkened back to several times throughout the episode, unlike some other story lines from the past season where it sort of was "murder, then nothing else" later in the episodes, and so I sort of wonder, since we didn't actually see either character die and that neither actor (or "actor" in Levine's case) is a complete unknown if we may see the characters yet again.

And also, before we get in, did anyone else find it odd that Zachary Quinto wasn't in last night's episode?  I didn't get to see the trailer for next week, so I'm assuming he's showing up soon, but he did get top, non-alphabetical billing, so you'd think the story would revolve around him a little bit more.

But I digress, as there's so many juicy bits to discuss from last night.  The casting of this show shows a real talent on Murphy's behalf in trying to find characters that perfectly fit their parts.  Of course there's Jessica Lange and James Cromwell, two veteran, venerated actors, but you also have a healthy mix of young up-and-comers (Evan Peters, Lily Rabe, Sarah Paulson) with actors who are criminally undercast (Chloe Sevigny, Joseph Fiennes).  I will start out with Lange, because she's the clear drawing point to the show.  Murphy gives her another strong-willed, self-assured character, but unlike Constance Langdon, her Sister Jude is not the holder of all of the cards-she's a character that is on the other side of the answers.  I love that Murphy lets Lange, who is more than capable of the subtle but is at her best when she's shooting for the moon, run wild with the character.  She's able to instill a sense of religious menace in her character, but also a series of question marks-not just the why of how she came to be the daunting nun that she is, but also the why behind whether or not she is our deeply complicated  hero or just one of many villains in the show.  Constance Langdon was a character that toed that line rather ferociously last season, before settling upon true, complete villainess toward the end.  I suspect we may have a similar ride with Sister Jude.

If the first episode is any indication, the show may center around the two most interesting performances of last season-that of Lange's character, and that of Evan Peters' Kit Walker.  Peters looks completely different than Tate Langdon last season, and I'll say that I'm a huge fan of the change-his sandy blond hair works well for him.  I also love that we get a bit of an inverse of last season here as well-last season we had Tate, the murderer, who gets to roam without justice.  Here we have Kit Walker, accused of being a serial killer named Bloody Face, and from all accounts so far, he's completely innocent of the crimes, one of which is killing his own wife.  It's a bit of justice for those of us who had somewhat hoped for a second season with those characters and wanted to see more comeuppance for Tate.  Peters is brought to the Manor while awaiting trial, and in the process, since again, this is AHS, he's the one who drew the naked card.  Murphy takes advantage of Peters striking resemblance to Malcolm McDowell late in the episode, when he has him pull an Alex de Forrest eye-popping, and while under the examining table of James Cromwell.

Cromwell's character is my biggest eyebrow-raiser of the episode (of which, if you can't tell, I was a big, big fan)-while he's a sensational actor, I'm not 100% sold yet on what his character is clearly setting up-mad scientist is such a classic horror trope, but another word for classic is cliche, and I'm curious to see if Murphy gives the character enough room to breath and break out of this standard plot point.

I'm not going to go completely into the episode (it's getting a wee bit late and I need to finish my TiVo clean-out from my trip), but I will say that I loved a lot of the smaller plotlines, in addition to the Lange and Peters ones, including Joseph Fiennes handsome priest (and Lange's clear lust for him), Lily Rabe's complicated nun (a vastly underused actress-I'm glad we're going to get to see her really stretch her acting muscles this season), and Sarah Paulson's lesbian journalist (again, another vastly underused character actress, and a recent Emmy nominee for her great work in Game Change).  There were some Murphy touches that I didn't care for (a lot of commentary about race and sexuality, and with Murphy you're always at risk of a lecture or a moral within his show, so I'm hoping that he steers clear of that since those are always the worst executed episodes of Glee and The New Normal, no matter now noble the intentions), but overall, I'm totally bought into this season.

What about you-are you pumped to be back into this American Horror world?  Which new character are you most/least intrigued by?  And do you think we're dealing with aliens, monsters, or Constance Langdon's fourth, never named child in the woods?

Waiting for Guffman (1997)

Film: Waiting for Guffman (1997)
Stars: Christopher Guest, Eugene Levy, Fred Willard, Catherine O'Hara, Parker Posey, Bob Balaban
Director: Christopher Guest
Oscar History: Nothing to speak of, though the film received three Spirit Award nominations.
Snap Judgment Ranking: 2/5 stars

After spending so much time in 2011, for some reason my Netflix queue decided I should take a quick detour into 1997, and into the world of Christopher Guest.  My brother is a huge fan of his films, and for some reason or another his films always intrigue me, but not so much that I seek them out (this is only the second of his movies that I've seen).  The only film of his I had seen, For Your Consideration, was not a favorite of mine despite it dealing with Oscar campaigns (which of course, I adore), and though I was told that it was not his best work, I have to admit that Guffman, one of his more acclaimed pieces, was not to my liking at all.

The film is about a community theatre group who are being lead by the effeminate Corky St. Clair (played by Guest), a New York theater man who clearly struck out in the Big Apple and is now lording his brief tour in the city over a small town group of show-biz wannabes.  Guest, who consistently uses the same players in most of his films, surrounds himself with real-life acting talents playing some version of a rube-two mildly obnoxious travel agents (Willard & O'Hara), a dentist with Michael Scott sort of delusions (Levy), a Dairy Queen worker wanting more out of life (Posey), and a hunky but dopey mechanic (Matt Keeslar) whom Corky is clearly attracted to, despite his many conversations to the camera about his wife Bonnie (a running joke that goes nowhere).  The film is in the style of a mockumentary (like most of Guest's films), and we see how the actors slowly get more out-of-control when they realize that a Broadway producer (the titular, but never seen, Guffman) is about to come to their town to review the play.

You obviously know where this is going (Guffman will never come and see the play, and the cast members will never get the stardom they've dreamt about), but predictability is not what hinders a film-a truly great director or writer will try and rise above it, and though there's something to be said for the Altman-esque style of Guest's filmmaking, unlike Altman, the message seems to be constantly sarcastic-look at how absurd these people are, look how silly it is to dream.  In my opinion, it's a deeply mean-spirited sort of film and I don't believe that is what Guest was going for; if his point is to show how even the biggest of dreamers look ridiculous from the audience's vantage point, that's one thing, but if it's to simply poke fun at how stupid these people appear, that's quite another.  At least with For Your Consideration, you got to see some of the ramifications of what the film's catalyst has done to the characters (that devastating moment when O'Hara realizes that she will not receive an Oscar nomination is a performing triumph even if the rest of the film flounders); in this film, it's just another cheap laugh at the characters.  Again, I'm not saying that mocking your characters is a bad thing, but it feels so out-of-place in this initially pleasant movie.

The film is very, very short, so I don't have much more to say.  Guest just isn't my cup-of-tea, I guess (though I do have Best in Show and A Mighty Wind coming up in my Netflix queue due to their presences on some projects, so I might still be won over), but I'd love a Guest fan to explain to me the appeal-it's not like I wouldn't like to love him (and I acknowledge that there's some strong intelligence going on here)-is this his best outing, or do I have a better film waiting for me?  Do share in the comments!

OVP: Picture (2011)

OVP: Best Picture

The Nominees Were...

 
 

Thomas Langmann, The Artist
Jim Burke, Alexander Payne, and Jim Taylor, The Descendants
Scott Rudin, Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close
Brunson Green, Chris Columbus, and Michael Barnathan, The Help
Graham King and Martin Scorsese, Hugo
Letty Aronson and Stephen Tenenbaum, Midnight in Paris
Michael de Luca, Rachael Horovitz, and Brad Pitt, Moneyball
Sarah Green, Bill Pohlad, Dede Gardner, and Grant Hill, The Tree of Life
Steven Spielberg and Kathleen Kennedy, War Horse

My Thoughts: And we have finally hit the end of the road for the 2011 Oscars.  This won't necessarily be our last discussion of 2011.  As I've gone along, I've added multiple precursor films to my Netflix list, and when I revisit any of our discussed nominated films I reserve the right to fully review the films, though my official selections, much like the Academy's, are set in stone.  That's part of the point of this project-people complain about the Academy's decisions to not give Citizen Kane Best Picture or to never give Peter O'Toole an acting Oscar, but that's because hindsight is 20/20.  While I can't travel back in time and make these decisions as the films are happening (yet-Apple's probably working on an app for that right now, though, so cross your fingers), this is about as close to a recreation of the "hindsight is 20/20" as I can get.  And so, it's time to add one last winner to the 2011 roundup, and we'll start with the film we've most discussed in this project, Hugo.

Martin Scorsese, Woody Allen, and Steven Spielberg are arguably the three directors who have contributed the most to the zeitgeist of film in the past forty years (throw out the names you'd replace them with in the comments-that's what they're there for).  It seems odd that this is the year that all three managed to get a Best Picture nomination at the same time, as none of them are really focusing on the subjects that made them supremely famous in the first place.  Spielberg's film is not a fantasy adventure, Woody's not in New York, and Marty's film could not have less to do with crime and the mob.  And yet, you have to stop and admire the fact that all three men (the youngest of which is 65) are still able to make such a mark on cinema decades after they became global icons of quality that they can receive Best Picture nominations.

We've discussed Scorsese's film to death in these articles, from almost every angle, but there's a reason that we've done that-there's a lot of strength in this film.  Martin Scorsese doesn't make a shoddy picture-he's a man of meticulous detail, and one of the things to deeply admire about the film is that Scorsese gives it a unique vision.  It's not his best work, and it's not the best of this field, but that's not to say it's not a fun picture-it's one that I would readily recommend to anyone who asks about the film.  Part of the problem with the film is that you can see what Scorsese was going for-he's trying to make a cherished film about the wonders of childhood, and that's not what he's able to pull off with this movie. All the elements are there, but in order to make a film like The Wizard of Oz, you have to everything pulled off flawlessly, and there are just too many storylines, too many missteps (once again, Sacha Baron Cohen, ladies and gentlemen) to have an indisputable masterpiece for children.  It's a film that will likely become a part of many people's holiday traditions (it's got that Christmas vibe to it, though I don't recall anything distinctly Christmas-y in the film), and it's a film that will be fun to revisit, but it's not a masterpiece.

Neither, I should say, is Steven Spielberg's War Horse, though again, I should say that there's the ingredients to make it one.  Unlike Scorsese, Spielberg has captured childhood wonder in the form of a near-perfect film, but Spielberg has long since grown up, for better or for worse.  I'm not sure if Spielberg is just going for John Ford's record, or if he has lost interest in the Sci-Fi genre, but wouldn't it be spectacular if he tried to do a film like Close Encounters or Jurassic Park again-good, strong popcorn fun that ends up being a true classic?  However, instead we are treated to a series of handsome, "important" films that are entertaining, but don't have that spark that made us fall in love with Spielberg in the first place.  However, Spielberg films always have something extra about them-that intangible sense of heightened adventure-he brings us along for the ride more than most directors seem capable of doing.  At its best, War Horse is doing that for us-the run through the war fields is by far the best scene in the movie, and it is one of those jaw-dropping moments where you can feel the wind and the sounds so fully you are immersed in this world.  It's trademark Spielberg, but it's something that lacks in the film's non-action sequences, and in particular the scenes with the French girl-I felt like this was a bit slow and while pretty, not very interesting.  It doesn't help that the source material is pretty slight for such a big film-for those that have seen this play at Lincoln Center, you'd have to agree that while the enormous production and in the case of the play, the spectacular puppet-work, make both film and stage a worthwhile platform, the actual plot is too narrow to stretch over two or three hours.

Woody Allen's Midnight in Paris is the third of the three films that I think has that "masterpiece" potential, but doesn't quite deliver on that promise.  Woody's film's problem is that it falls sucker to its own premise.  One of my best friends is a Woody Allen enthusiast of the highest order, so I'm aware that I may be falling into one of those "Woody did this on-purpose" sort of discussion traps, but since the entire point of the film is that nostalgia romanticizes the past to the point of non-reality, it seems weird that the scenes in the 1920's and during the Belle Epoque are far, far more interesting than the modern day portion of the movie.  I love the idea of the bumbling detective, and the "What the hell?!? Is that Carla Bruni?!?" moments were fun, but overall the modern-day elements of the film were lacking (in particular, strong actors like Michael Sheen and Rachel McAdams were just plain bad in their roles), and though Woody films oftentimes seem a little out-of-the-blue, the random romance with a bit part shopgirl seemed like a particularly cheap ploy.  I know that in the Best Director write-up I wrote that this was a particularly sharp metaphor, and from a writing standpoint it's an interesting commentary, but it's also a double-edged sword-it may be clever, but it also makes the film uneven, and when you're competing to be the best of the best pictures, I've got to dock some points.

The Artist is the film that I had the most trouble with in these write-ups.  When I was writing, I ended up falling less and less enchanted with it, and it may have been that it was simply nominated too often or at least in the wrong categories.  It's not a bad movie, and I want to be very clear about that (as we're going to hit a couple of bad movies in a few paragraphs, and I want to ensure that the distinction has been made).  It is a film that's not the masterpiece that it (and some critics) claim it to be, however.  I don't even quibble with the Best Picture nomination, though it doesn't deserve it, because Silent Era films are an art-form that should get a revival of sorts in the cinema, and are a terrific way of telling stories.  But it doesn't have much to say outside of that gimmick.  The movie knows a lot about silent comedies, and there are bits of the film that are supremely fun to watch (the coat rack scene and the constant Dujardin mugging come to mind), but that doesn't make a great movie, and the plot and story arch in the film are too simple and not strongly executed enough to be considered one of the best films of the year, and certainly are not enough to warrant the praise the film received.  A film like Casablanca is simple and classic, but it also has literally every single one of its engines-writing, directing, acting, music-running at full throttle.  The Artist doesn't do that, and while I will readily admit that it's a fun movie (and like Hugo, one I would recommend seeing), this isn't a discussion of the film versus itself-it's a discussion of the film versus every movie of 2011, and that's a conversation in which it just can't compete.

Moneyball is in a similar situation (before we dig in-note that Brad Pitt is amongst the nominees for producing this film, so he did have two chances to win this past year).  Moneyball, in Aaron Sorkin's hands, is a much better film than it should be-the movie should be bogged down in technical jargon and baseball "come-from-behind" cliches, but Sorkin manages to somewhat lift that stain with a deft script.  Bennett Miller also deserves some credit-not just for hiring a technical team that is way better than the subject demands (it's a sports movie, after all-why does it need such sharp sound mixing?), but also for his decisions to focus less on what is on the field than what is going on to make the field play happen.  Brad Pitt, so handsome and with a well-practiced charm, is another highlight that will help this film have a strong video shelf life.  All of that is to say the film could have been a lot worse, but it's still not so good as to compete with the best films of the year.  The film does fall into cliches, even if the script tries not to steer into them.  It's hard to imagine a sports film without any sort of victory (and it is based on a true story, which hinders the writer), but we could have been spared the long speeches and the constant underdog reminders.  Overall, a film I liked way, way better than I imagined I would, but it still doesn't quite get me to that "Oscar" place.

The Help is also a film that relies on cliches, but it does it in a format that we haven't always been (macho, come-from-behind sports films are really all that genre seems to offer), so it gets a little more of a pass.  This is a film that does have people making a stand, but it does it in a nearly all-female cast, something that we rarely get to see on-screen, and something I emphatically root for in the future.  The movie does have its problems-Bryce Dallas Howard's character seems a bit over-the-top, even if her ugly prejudices sadly were shared by people of her time, and the film never quite knows what to do with Emma Stone's character (is she a civil rights activist or simply an aspiring writer that stumbled across a great narrative-who can tell?), but we have three excellent performances from Viola Davis, Octavia Spencer, and Jessica Chastain, and the film flies by-there's also something to be said for seeing a film in theaters (and though I will hardly be able to make this claim for other years, I saw all nine of these in theaters), as the audience reaction probably gave me a bit of a boost in my judgment of this film.  However, this film, while too rosy in its critiques of a very serious time in US History, manages to hold its entertainment value through its strong visual element and its three top tier performances even when you're watching at home alone, eating anything but a chocolate pie.

The Descendants, like The Artist, is a film that hasn't gotten a welcome banner in my treatment of it, and I have to say that while The Artist may have lost a few notches in my estimation because of the critics collective orgasm over it (though I do stand by all of my nitpicking of it), The Descendants would still be a dull and lifeless movie even if it hadn't been noticed by any awards bodies.  It seems weird to write such things about a director I so fervently admire like Payne, but the movie is a big miss (whatever our occupation, we all have them), and it doesn't seem to know what direction it's taking.  Clooney's novocaine performance doesn't help, and neither do the "stock" characters that seem to interact with him on a regular basis (and, once more for those sitting in the back, this is said with the exception of Judy Greer).  Overall, this made me wish that Payne would return to the deeply imperfect characters of Sideways and Election and visit the beautiful islands of Hawaii on his own time.

Stephen Daldry's Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close is the film that we've least discussed, and for obvious reasons-this was one of its only two nominations.  With the new "how many nominees will there be?" sort of system that I've made my peace with but am not a huge fan of, this was definitely a shock nomination and the one that raised the most eyebrows on nomination morning.

Unlike the other eight films that we've discussed so in-depth, I'm going to give a quick synopsis of the movie since we haven't become very well acquainted with the film prior to this write-up. It's about a boy in New York who loses his father in the 9/11 attacks, and the film alternates between months after the attacks and the day of the attacks.  The film is make-or-break for you depending on how you react to Thomas Horn's performance as a potentially-autistic (the film never really says) boy who tries to track down a bunch of clues that he thinks his father has left for him after his death.  This is where the film got me first-I couldn't stand Horn's performance.  It's difficult to be mean to younger actors, but his performance was too braying and abrasive to ever be completely believable-it's hard to imagine random strangers opening up to him, which is the entire premise of the film.  The movie's manipulative nature also was a bit hard-to-swallow too-I felt that the movie was daring us to defy Horn's character, and the cutesy way that every clue seemed to fall right into place without much work on the part of Horn's character.  And while I'm aware that it's based on a book (that I haven't read), it also seems as if the 9/11 backdrop was added more as a ploy for an Oscar than as an integral part of the story.  I've read some critics say that there should never be films about the tragic events of that day, which I disagree with (films have a way of telling stories that other mediums can't, and you should never try and limit that), but this film's use of the events seemed to be handled without much care.  I will end with something nice to say, that Max von Sydow, Viola Davis, and Sandra Bullock all do their best to save the film with solid acting work (I'm leaving out the other very famous actor because I don't believe he's on the same level as the other three), but that's not enough to save this film from failing spectacularly.

And in the final slot, we have Terrence Malick's The Tree of Life, a film that dominated early filmic discussions of 2011 with its divisive structure and its loose narrative.  It should be noted that, though Extremely Loud is a film that most shocked people with its surprise nomination, in hindsight perhaps that shock should have been reserved for this film.  The Academy has never nominated such an out-there film that so boldly defies what we expect from the movies.  Not even Blow-Up or 2001: A Space Odyssey could push their Best Director nominations into this category, so it says something that the Academy was willing to go out on a limb for Malick's movie.

It's no secret that I simply adored this movie, and I'm going to try to type up why I did, as it's important to defend your big decisions-this is, after all, largely an Oscar blog, and you don't get a bigger decision with Oscar than Best Picture.  It's partially the beauty on display-Lubezki captures every frame with such light and imagination, and never seems afraid to throw us another winding look at a tree or the alabaster pallor of Jessica Chastain's face.  It's also the deeply profound look we take at the three principle members of the O'Brien family-Hunter McCracken, Jessica Chastain, and Brad Pitt somehow appear so naturalistic that you wonder if Malick told them they were filming, and yet they fit perfectly into Malick's metaphor about the way of nature and the way of grace.  And finally, it's also the sheer awe that the film inspires.  Few directors take on as impossible of projects as trying to exhibit a topic like "the meaning of life" onto the screen, since they know that even if they make perfect films, they will never succeed in answering the question.  That doesn't stop Malick, and while he obviously can't find the answer to the question, what his movie does, by immersing us into this world of big bangs and the ends of time and the bitterness of becoming more aware during childhood, is making us better understand ourselves.  It's the sort of movie, that if you let it, really transforms how you look at the world and how you think.  It seems like the water may be getting a bit deep here, so I'll pull out soon, but I have to say that this is why cinephiles become enchanted with the movies-not just to see great art and great performances, but to have that moment where the art guides us to a different direction, and gets us to think about the world in a new light.

Other Precursor Contenders: Because all of the precursors handle Best Picture in a different way, it's hard to make an apples-to-apples comparison, but I'll try with our three big Best Picture races-the Globes, the BAFTA's, and the PGA's.  The Globes, which divide into comedy and drama, felt the love for The Artist and The Descendants (their two winners), and also nominated Hugo, The Help, Moneyball, Midnight in Paris, and War Horse, but also found room for The Ides of March, 50/50, Bridesmaids, and My Week with Marilyn.  The BAFTA Awards, limited to only five awards, also went with The Artist for its top prize, and fit Drive and Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy alongside The Help and The Descendants.  And the PGA's, which have a 10-wide field, skipped Extremely Loud and The Tree of Life in favor of Bridesmaids, The Ides of March, and The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.

Performances I Would Have Nominated: The obvious choice here would be Melancholia, which is one of my favorite films of last year and my second favorite piece of directing.  However, I'd have to put it third, and will instead highlight my second place, a tiny little film called Weekend.  I've mentioned it briefly before, but it has such a strong message about the lives of its two characters, two men brought together by a one-night stand who slowly realize that they may be made for each other.  It washes away all of the "Hollywood love story" sort of glamour and takes a very realistic look at how love can spring from unknown places, and that romance and its allure can enter even into the most ordinary of situations.  It's a remarkable movie, and one that everyone should investigate.

Oscar's Choice: 84 years in, Oscar finally decided to go with a second silent film and The Artist pulled off a victory over Hugo and The Descendants.

My Choice: An easy decision-one of the rare years where Oscar nominated my favorite film of the year, The Tree of Life.  I've already talked enough about it, so I'll simply run down the rest of the lineup: War Horse, Midnight in Paris, Hugo, The Help, Moneyball, The Artist, The Descendants, and Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close.

And there we have it-2011 is now completely recapped.  I've got two 2010 films home from Netflix right now, so we'll start that discussion post-haste (as well as some election-recapping, a bunch of 2012 movies, and of course whatever TCM decides to throw my way), but in the meantime, it's important to think about-what was your favorite of these nine films? What movies don't deserve to rank amongst them?  And what was the best film of 2011?

Also in 2011: Director, Actress, Actor, Supporting Actress, Supporting Actor, Original Screenplay, Adapted Screenplay, Foreign Language Film, Animated Feature, Sound Mixing, Sound Editing, Original Score, Original Song, Art Direction, Cinematography, Costume, Editing, Visual Effects, Makeup, 2011 Recap

OVP: Director (2011)

OVP: Best Director

The Nominees Were...

Woody Allen, Midnight in Paris

Michel Hazanavicius, The Artist

Terrence Malick, The Tree of Life

Alexander Payne, The Descendants

Martin Scorsese, Hugo

My Thoughts: With just one category left until the top prize, you don't want to hear any of my pre-writeup banter, you just want to dive in, so let's get started.

Michel Hazanavicius is one of those come-out-of-nowhere directors that got Oscar's attention after relatively insignificant filmic achievements.  This could bode well for him-Orson Welles and Mike Nichols both got nominated very early on in their careers...then again, so did Michael Cimino.  Hazanavicius is at his best, directorially, when he has an obvious vision for his film.  The suicide scene, the tightest and best directed of the scenes in the film, is clearly something he had exactly in mind when he filmed it-similarly the coatrack and staircase scenes.  It's obvious that he's a man of ideas onscreen, and someone that has specific visual goals for his film.  You want that in a director.  Unfortunately, Hazanavicius's film gets lost when he doesn't have some great piece of symbolism or cuteness to display.  When the film simply seems to be paying homage to silent films, rather than trying to say something new through the format, it gets repetitive and a bit tired.

After all of these writeups, I'm of the mind that Marty Scorsese and not Alexander Payne was the chief competition for Hazanavicius.  I say this not just because Hugo did stunningly well in the techs, but because Scorsese is doing something that he clearly loves behind the camera in Hugo, and I suspect the Academy would have responded well to that.  Scorsese's loving look at a subject he is so passionate about (the celebration of films past and present) resonates in the audience, and when he's at his best, like the scenes of Melies making his movies or when they first see some of Melies films, you get that sense of stark wonder that Scorsese is trying to make-this is what he's hoping will be his Wizard of Oz, his E.T., and in those rare scenes, he comes darn close to achieving that sort of childlike magic that can only permeate from being stunned by the big and exciting in a darkened theater.  Those moments are not the full film, though, and for every moment of magic there's a scene featuring groanworthiness like the ones with Sacha Baron Cohen's mugging Station Inspector.  Scorsese cannot seem to sustain his brilliance for the entire movie (a feat he has pulled off before, obviously), and for that, the film suffers.

Alexander Payne, who I assume the Academy gave third place, has made great films in the past.  Sideways certainly springs to mind, and even better, there's Election, which gave us the single best performance of Reese Witherspoon's career (side note-don't you desperately wish Witherspoon would try something a little out there again?  Just because you get your Oscar doesn't mean you don't have to try-we will forgive you wanting to spend six months making out with Tom Hardy and Chris Pine, but come on dear-you can balance it with a visionary director).  Which makes the fact that he waited seven years before making a movie after his first Best Picture nomination all the more disappointing when you realize that the film is the plodding, directionless The Descendants.  I've gone there before, but George Clooney's character is so adrift and without direction that any sorts of character revelations later in the film come across as convenient and unearned.  The film's relationships all ring hollow, as if they're just being discovered for the first time when they clearly have existed for years.  This seems particularly odd considering that Payne was so damn good at this sort of fractured family drama in About Schmidt.  At the end of the day, despite its many Oscar nominations, I suspect that this will be a footnote sort of film in Payne's otherwise excellent career.

It seems a bit tongue-in-cheek to move now into Terrence Malick's The Tree of Life, since directionless is a criticism that has been thrown at Malick in the past.  This is, of course, untrue, but it's a criticism that should be mentioned before I start the Malick lovefest to at least acknowledge that there are people out there who don't agree on this front.  That said, they are wrong, and Malick's direction is sublime.  There's nothing better than ambition realized for a director, and Malick's film, which hopes to tell the creation story through one boy's stern childhood and through, well, the actual creation (aka the Big Bang), and succeeds on both levels.  First, there's the tale of the O'Briens, and though the metaphor is a little hitting it on the head, the metaphors of Nature and Grace are perfectly encapsulated by Brad Pitt and Jessica Chastain.  And the child performances are so naturalistic, it's as if Malick has simply found a butterfly able to carry a camera to follow around the children on their journey through pre-adolescence.  I want to save a little for the Best Picture conversation, but I will just say of Malick's Big Bang scenes that they deliver a beauty and intelligent daring that no one on-screen has attempted since Kubrick's 2001.

Our final nominee is of course, Woody Allen.  Woody, who, despite some strong films in recent years (Match Point and Vicky Cristina Barcelona), had not been nominated for directing in seventeen years.  What brought him back was both a clever concept, which he executes marvelously, and a complete intoxication with a city, though in this case it's a look at the City of Lights rather than the City that Never Sleeps.  Woody has been better, that's for certain (nothing really will top Annie Hall/Manhattan), but that doesn't demean the impressive tale that Allen is bringing to life here-I love the side characters so very much, particularly those played by Corey Stoll and Marion Cotillard, who may be of a different century but still exist in that Allen world of constant reflection and repetitive mistakes.  Allen's continual pull into the modern world and the way that he has the audience constantly hoping for a return to the 1920's proves his point that we are all like Owen Wilson-we are always hoping for what isn't real, what isn't our current life.  It's a sharp metaphor, and it takes Allen's sharp eye to keep it in focus.

Other Precursor Contenders: The Golden Globes, always a sucker for a celebrity, replaced Malick with George Clooney for his directorial work in The Ides of March (with four nominations, a film they clearly responded to more than Oscar); Martin Scorsese took the statue.  The BAFTA Awards may have gone with the more traditional Hazanavicius for its winner, but Payne, Malick, and Woody Allen were all replaced by some seemingly out-of-the-blue nominees like Nicolas Winding Refn for Drive, Lynne Ramsay for We Need to Talk About Kevin, and Toms Alfredson for Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy.  Finally, the DGA, which most often lines up with Oscar, gave its top trophy to Hazanavicius as well, leaving out only Malick amongst its nominees to keep in David Fincher for The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.

Performances I Would Have Nominated: As has been recently mentioned, I loved Melancholia, and though he spent most of 2011 as persona non grata, Lars von Trier is a huge part of that.  It seems stunning that in a year that brought us The Tree of Life there was a director hoping to find that same ambition.  He didn't quite succeed (The Tree of Life is considerably better), but von Trier's film, with its suffocating sense of doom, is so superb, and a darker, more demonic yang to Malick's opus.
Oscar's Choice: Oscar (and Harvey) were not going to be denied their old Hollywood glamour, and The Artist wins another one.
My Choice: It's quite clear I'm going to say Malick, isn't it?  There's just no comparison-I will say that he wins out of all of the potential nominees, not just the actual nominees, for me.  In second place I put Allen, followed by Scorsese, Hazanavicius, and Payne.

And now, I'll turn it over to you-which of these five men deserved to win Best Director?  Who was wrongfully snubbed in the category?  Of all of the performances of the year, who most deserved Best Director of 2011?  And are you ready for Best Picture?

Also in 2011: Actress, Actor, Supporting Actress, Supporting Actor, Original Screenplay, Adapted Screenplay, Foreign Language Film, Animated Feature, Sound Mixing, Sound Editing, Original Score, Original Song, Art Direction, Cinematography, Costume, Editing, Visual Effects, Makeup, 2011 Recap