Out of Focus

Go Behind the Screens (and Under Our Skin) at Tribeca

That's right ... I disappear for two months and then come back with what some might think is a slightly self-serving post promoing the work gig. But really, this is not self-serving; this is you-serving. Or something. But I want to share with you a really special program that we're introducing this year at Tribeca -- two actually that are a bit similar called Conversations in Cinema and Behind the Screens.

Obviously, Tribeca has once again taken over my days, nights, and every moment in between. First there was all the programming, then all the scheduling, then all the managing of various areas, and now here we are, late at night finishing my final preparations for our first full day of movie magic. Like the rest of the programmers here, I'm really excited about this year's lineup, and one film in particular is a personal fave because I am wholly responsible for it being in the festival

I saw a work-in-progress presentation of Under Our Skin at last year's IFP Market. The film is a documentary about Lyme disease, and I don't believe I'm exaggerating when I say that it is one of the most important films you could see this year, not just because of the hidden near-epidemic that is Lyme disease in this country, but because of all the health industry implications and machinations explored in the film. There are plenty of opportunities to see the film at Tribeca, but there is only one Behind the Screens screening.

In an effort to allow festival-goers to have an even deeper experience with some of our films, we've created this new series. It may not be utterly revolutionary, but it is brand new to Tribeca. Following a film screening, rather than our usual 10-15 minute informal Q&A session, we will present a longer, more in-depth moderated conversation with the filmmakers. In the case of Under Our Skin, its Behind the Screens event will be on Sun 4/27 at 6:30 PM at the DGA Theater on 57th Street between 6th and 7th Avenues. The discussion after the screening will be moderated by Robert Bazell, the Chief Health and Science correspondent for NBC news. He will be talking to the film's director Andy Abraham Wilson; a medical and Lyme disease expert who appears in the film, Dr. Richard Horowitz; and noted author and former Lyme patient Amy Tan. Tickets are still available, and I encourage you to check out this event. It should be a fascinating, informative and educational evening, and the film itself is really great

Another Behind the Screens event which should be interesting for very different reasons is the May 1 screening of Confessionsofa Ex-Doofus-ItchyFooted Mutha, the latest work from indie film icon Melvin Van Peebles. Van Peebles and producer/director/actor Warrington Hudlin will talk after that screening, and it should prove to be an illuminating look into the creative mind of one of independent cinema's most influential figures.

Also tonight, the day before it's opening, we're showing Errol Morris' new documentary about Abu Ghraib, Standard Operating Procedure. As part of our other new film and discussion series, after this screening (tonight at 6:30 PM at the DGA), "Jarhead" author Tony Swofford will talk with Morris about the film.

We have a lot of great films showing at Tribeca this year, and I hope you'll check some out. When my schedule slows down in a couple weeks, I look forward to returning to this space and talking about some of my favorite films from the festival, and, as always, I'd love to hear from people about the films they saw or even just the experience they had. Tribeca continues to grow, and I think this year we've actually made some great strides, especially ones that have been beneficial for our general audiences and the nearly 3000 people who donate their time to volunteer. Hopefully you've noticed. Either way, please feel free to reach out and let me know.

Meanwhile ... it's back to work for me .....

Recap: Do They Make Anything for Oscar Reflux Syndrome?

Well, my predictions were right for the major awards -- not such a feat this year. But in considering upon yet another year where the actual Best Picture did not take home its prize, I found myself most startled by reflecting upon one of the several tedious and useless montages provided to us by tedious and useless Oscar-cast producer Gil Cates. Thank you Gil for giving us a show that ran just under 20 minutes over. Too bad it was possibly the most boring Oscar show ever, made more so by a couple terrible production numbers from Enchanted, but mostly due to the 80 Years of Oscar segments. But I digress.

Watching the one 80 Years of Oscar montage that went year-by-year through 79 previous Best Picture winners was actually quite fascinating. How many of those winners have held up through time. More importantly, how many of them would still be considered the best film of their respective years? Citizen Kane is regularly listed as the greatest movie ever made, and yet, the 1941 Best Picture winner was the John Ford film How Green Was My Valley, a wonderful picture, but not one which makes the top 10. When the critics lists came out in 1990 talking about the best films of the '80s, topping the consensus list was Raging Bull, but Scorsese's Jake La Motta biopic wasn't in tonight's montage because the Academy Award for Best Picture of 1980 went to Ordinary People. Scorsese made another film that rightfully would be considered one of the best of the '90s in Goodfellas. Of course, that New York mob epic lost its Best Picture competition to Dances With Wolves.

it's nothing new for people to argue about the fact that the Academy doesn't always (usually? ever?) give the award to the actual best film of the year. Certainly, the montage had other people arguing tonight about the worst ever Best Picture winner. Apparently, many think it's Titanic or Crash. Crash would easily win that head-to-head for me. Personally, The English Patient is also up there along with Driving Miss Daisy and Rain Man, maybe none of which is as heinous as the Crash win, but all three of which were far overrated and beat much worthier films that will hold up through the ages better. I mean, I have repeatedly mentioned my extreme love for Sunset Blvd, my pick for best movie ever. Well at least it lost to All About Eve, another all-time great. Or Network which certainly deserved to be the Best Picture of 1976, winning every other major category. It ultimately lost to the Best Picture prize to Rocky which, while not quite in the same league in my book, at least was a very good film and a cornerstone of sports cinema.

All of this leads me back to the only part of tonight's show that I care to reflect on: No Country For Old Men taking Best Picture from There Will Be Blood. How perfect would it have been to see Martin Scorsese hand a Best Director statue to Paul Thomas Anderson. A passing of the mantle, maybe? But instead, I get the feeling that P.T. is going to find himself having a career much like Marty's. When the lists are compiled for the Best Films of the first decade of the 21st Century, There Will Be Blood will be on it, if not at the top, very close to it. Will No Country? I doubt it.

No disrespect to The Coens. I love their film. I think it is probably the best film they've ever made in their illustrious career. Unlike a picture like Crash or Diablo Cody's win for the screenplay of Juno, I don't think No Country is in the running for Most Overrated Film of 2007 at all. It is a fantastic movie, and in almost any other year, probably would have deserved the top prize without a second thought. And yet, it is more than rare for a film like Blood to arrive in theaters; a film so complex with so many layers and elements that even those of us who praise it and rave about it and think we understand it will discover that there is so much more to it each time we repeat the viewing process.

There Will Be Blood is not just a better film than No Country For Old Men -- a film that will continue to be appreciated for years to come and likely become even more so -- it is a better film than every Oscar winner since the turn of the century and then some. The Departed, Crash, Million Dollar Baby, Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King, Chicago, A Beautiful Mind, Gladiator ... will any of these films be among the best of the '00s? The only two that have a shot, as far as I'm concerned, are The Departed and Lord of the Rings.

So congrats to the Coens, but more importantly, congrats to P.T. Anderson. So you don't have the statue ... chances are you'll get one someday, but really more importantly, we'll all be talking about your magnificent film for years to come, long after films like Juno, Michael Clayton and Atonement have been forgotten. As for No Country, we'll see for it's arguably better than most of those previous winners too ... it just doesn't drink up their milkshakes quite as well.

For the Record: It's Oscar Night -- When the Stars Come Out to Shine (Gotta Love That Line ... or something)

Watching a few hundred Tribeca submissions has precluded me from doing my normal year-end round-ups and catch-ups. I don't mean writing, I mean actually catching-up on nominated films for the Oscars, Spirit Awards, Razzies, etc. Other than Cloverfield, I haven't had a chance to see any regular theatrical films since early January. My new TiVos -- yes, two of them -- are both virtually full because there's been no time to watch TV. On the plus side, as we come closer to locking the Tribeca program within the next week, I'm really excited about a lot of what I've seen so far, and as usual, there will be several films which I liked immensely but sadly for which we won't have room.

But it is Oscar night, and I figured for my own benefit (or harm) among those who might or might not believe that I picked such-and-such when I did, I'd just give my own perspective on the wills and the shoulds ... win that is.

Best Picture
Should win: There Will Be Blood -- Simply the best movie (so far) of the 21st Century.
Will win: No Country for Old Men -- A film this dark manages to be more mainstream and less dark than Blood. Recent momentum gives it the win.

Best Director
Should win: Paul Thomas Anderson forThere Will Be Blood -- The best movie of this year was also hands down the most well-crafted.
Will win: The Coen Bros. for No Country for Old Men -- Winning the DGA Award is not always a perfect predictor, but this year, it clinched it for Joel and Ethan.

Best Adapted Screenplay
Should win: Paul Thomas Anderson for There Will Be Blood -- Rinse and repeat. For all intents and purposes, it really is an original screenplay, and a brilliant one.
Will win: The Coen Bros. for No Country for Old Men -- A fantastic adaptation, and a well-deserved award any year other than this one

Best Original Screenplay
Should win: Brad Bird et al for Ratatouille -- One of the weaker categories this year, but the latest Bird/Pixar collaboration was a wonderful exploration of the creative and artistic processes. Yes, I'm talking about the cartoon featuring a rat who cooks!
Will win: Diablo Cody for Juno -- I could (but won't) start a rant here. Suffice it to say, Juno -- together with Michael Clayton -- are my frontrunners for most overrated films of the year. In Juno's case, I don't dislike the movie, but Cody's going to get an award thanks to her biography, not because of a phenomenal screenplay. Good but uneven and flawed screenplay, yes. Oscar winning? No.
Disclaimer (what I haven't seen): I never got to Lars and the Real Girl nor The Savages. I heard mixed things about both, but obviously can't judge for myself.

Best Actor
Should AND Will win: Daniel Day-Lewis for There Will Be Blood -- A brilliant performance that will go down in the history of cinema as one of the all-time greats. Day-Lewis made his previous tremendous work almost look like hackery, and that's saying something!
Disclaimer (what I haven't seen): I missed In the Valley of Elah so also didn't see Tommy Lee Jones.

Best Actress
Should win: I abstain
Will Win: Marion Cotillard for La Via en Rose -- She's winning everything else.
Disclaimer (what I haven't seen): This is one of my worst covered categories, unfortunately. The only performance I did see was Ellen Page in Juno, so I can't even judge Cotillard for myself.

Best Supporting Actor
Should AND Will win: Javier Bardem for No Country for Old Men -- Probably the second-best performance on-screen this year after Day-Lewis, a well-deserved nod for Bardem.
Disclaimer (what I haven't seen): Casey Affleck in The Assassination of Jesse James

Best Supporting Actress
Should/Will Win: Cate Blanchett for I'm Not There -- I make this pick with reservations. I would be surprised to see Blanchett lose both awards, and I think unlike some others, Oscar will justifiably appreciate Blanchett's performance for more than what some morons dismiss as her simply playing a guy. However, I haven't seen Gone Baby Gone, and I think Amy Ryan has a great chance to be the underdog winner. Ryan is a tremendous actress who I've seen on stage several times -- not to mention in small film and TV roles, especially on a season of The Wire. She also is an atress who used to be represented by the agency at which I worked in the mid-90s in LA, so I'm a fan and would be very happy to see her take home the prize. Still, in my office pool, I picked Blanchett.
Disclaimer (what I haven't seen): Along with Gone Baby Gone, the fates kept making me miss American Gangster and Ruby Dee.

Best Animated Feature Film
Should AND Will win: Ratatouille

Best Foreign Film
Should win: I abstain -- NFC (it's an acronym) -- I haven't seen any of the nominees.
Will win: I kind of rolled the dice and based on nothing other than reading descriptions, I chose Beaufort for my office pool. But again ... NFC (still an acronym).

Best Documentary
Should/Will win: No End in Sight -- I actually did see every film in this category, and for me, it's no contests. No End in Sight was not just the most important of these films, but also the most well made.

Best Art Direction
Should/Will win: There Will Be Blood -- it wasn't necessarily always extravagant, but it was beautiful and brilliant. If I'm wrong here, I think it will be Sweeney Todd, and it wouldn't be undeserved.
Disclaimer (what I haven't seen): American Gangster and The Golden Compass

Best Cinematography
Should/Will win: There Will Be Blood -- Hands down, the most stunningly shot film of this and many other years.
Disclaimer (what I haven't seen): The Assassination of Jesse James

Best Costume Design
Should/Will win: Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street -- Oscar likes to spread things around. Not as much as the Golden Globes, but some, and here's where I believe Tim Burton's great adaptation will take home a prize.

Best Film Editing
Should win: There Will Be Blood
Will win: No Country for Old men -- Often, but not always, this award is a predicator for the rest of the night, but especially Best Director and Best Picture. If Blood wins it, I actually don't believe that will be the case, but I don't think it will get it anyway.

Best Score
Should win: I abstain cause what should win is Jonny Greenwood's There Will Be Blood, but for some reason it was not nominated/ineligible/huh?
Will win: Michael Clayton -- This was my pick, but it's not a secure one. I figure, again, that Oscar will try to through Clayton a bone, and this would be its best chance.
Disclaimer (what I didn't see): The Kite Runner or 3:10 to Yuma

Best Original Song
Should/Will win: "Falling Slowly" from Once -- This is another weak prediction. I haven't seen Enchanted nor August Rush, but the fact that Once even received a nomination against two big studio releases proves people saw the film and heard the song, so I'm taking the leap.

It's showtime, and really ... the rest of the awards are a toss-up. Give Pirates of the Caribbean a prize for Makeup and maybe even Visual Effects. Throw Transformers something like Sound Mixing, maybe even Sound Editing, although both could go to The Bourne Ultimatum, or There Will be Blood could (deservedly) grab Sound Editing.

Time to go. Happy Oscar!

Monday Miscellaneous Miscellany: Awards and Stuff

I've spent the whole weekend (yet again) holed up in my apartment encountering only those I had beckoned to bring me food, watching submission-after-submission, with intermittent breaks for news, a few episodes of Friday Night Lights and watching Broken English on DVD and 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days on IFC in Theaters. (That's right ... I took a break from movies by watching two movies. I know that by all rational analysis, I have lost it.) But as I consider the end of January also the coming end of the statute of limitations to consider 2007, my delayed look-back lists will, one way or another, be coming this week. Until then:

• I'm a bit baffled at the DGA awarding their top prize this year to the Coen Brothers over Paul Thomas Anderson. No disrespect to No Country For Old Men, which will be one of my top five films of the year, but if there's one prize Anderson should get this year from anyone bestowing it, it's Best Director. I would actually have been much less shocked to see Anderson win the DGA and the Coens take the Oscar due to the broader voting block. I have a very hard time seeing it happening the other way around, i.e., Anderson surprising at the Oscars. And yet, it's quite surprising to me that a film which in a couple years will be in the running as the best film of the decade isn't receiving more formal hosannas.
  

• Meanwhile, kudos to both SAG and ASC for getting their top awards right. Even as many seem to hold back on the comparable praise for There Will Be Blood, the recognition of Daniel Day-Lewis' work is, rightfully, universal. I wonder, however, if too many are giving him too much credit for the movie itself, thinking that the performance is the only thing to react to. One of the reasons Blood is so tremendous is due to the fact that Day-Lewis gives potentially one of the greatest performances ever captured on film without overshadowing or upstaging the rest of the movie -- as, often, only the true greats can do. Blood was also recognized on Saturday as the American Society of Cinematographers gave their annual honor to Robert Elswit, whose photography contributes as much as anything else to Blood's virtual perfection. Meanwhile, SAG gave its Best Cast in a Motion Picture prize to No Country (as well as justly handing Supporting Actor to Javier Bardem). One of the reasons the Coens movie works as well as it does is not just because there isn't a weak link among its cast, but also because so many of the great performances are at the service of truly complicated, multi-dimensional and morally complex characters.
  

• As for the "stuff": Anyone out there a TiVo expert? Due to my quick realization that Cablevision's DVRs suck more than Time Warner's and almost as much as Cablevision itself, I have made the leap from DiVo to actual brand-name TiVo, and for the most part, I'm pretty happy. But there are actually a few nit-picky things that are bugging me, and most of all, I'm missing a few functions and shortcuts that I'm pretty sure must actually exist. So ... anyone know of any comprehensive TiVo shortcut sites? Anybody have enough experience to know if you can create more "Groups" (like, say, one for "Movies" recorded) in the Now PLaying list? Anyone know if there's a way to ask the machine to create a season pass for a certain show in one specific time slot that is not its first run time slot? (For example, Project Runway premieres at 10 PM on Wednesday each week, but maybe I want to record it every week in a different time slot, like 11 PM or 2 AM? But that time slot isn't recognized as "First run" obviously? This is something that the Time Warner DiVo easily did; the Cablevision DiVo sort of did; but it looks like the TiVo can't do it. Is that possible?
  

• I suppose I'll throw this out there: If you're job hunting and are super organized and have always wanted to work your ass off for not nearly enough pay ... I'm hiring for a few different positions at Tribeca.
  

• I'm kind of baffled by a lot of the Cloverfield reaction out there. I don't care if people don't like the film, and yeah, I wrote something of a rave last week for it, albeit never intending to infer that I think it's the greatest movie ever. But the film keeps receiving all these criticisms about its characters being completely devoid of depth or purpose and the story being simply a blatant recreation of 9/11 that just goes on for about an hour but doesn't say anything, and the only reasons I can see for such criticism are certain critics walking into the film expecting nothing good and closing themselves off from seeing anything that's there. I'm not trying to say that these are the most complex characters created in memory, but they each of a purpose, they each make life-and-death decisions -- often placing their own lives secondary -- and they each, within the confines of this world and this kind of story, learn and even slightly grow. But more importantly, the 9/11 comparison is really just the tip of the iceberg. I don't want to rehash what I wrote last week, but there is a lot in this film that articulates the fears many in this country have through the realization of this monster and the attack. Like 9/11, the attack is just the beginning. The ability of this monster to infect our society -- or in some cases our own persons and very beings -- is clear. The ability of the larger monster to spit off smaller creatures -- can you say "cells" anyone? -- that sneak-up and surprise in the dark, swarm when you're not looking and against which we seem powerless to defend? That's not the monster metaphor of what most red staters would claim is the 100% truth? Monster movies were never "truth." Monster movies -- especially those of the Red Scare '50s -- were all reactionary; they were all responses, or perpetuation, of propaganda and perception and paranoia and probably some other p-words that I'm missing right now. And so is Cloverfield. If the film has any faults in this area, it's for a lack of subtlety, but not a lack of content.

R.I.P. HEATH

I was sitting in a programming meeting today. It was around 4:45 or so, and two of my colleagues at the other end of the table was showing his blackberry to someone else. A few minutes passed, and she showed hers back to him, and one of them said, "Heath Ledger was just found dead." It took everyone in the room by surprise ... nothing unique there. When we got back to our main office later, apparently everyone there had been doing nothing but refreshing TMC and The New York Times and wherever else they could read the latest gossip.

Who knows what happened to Ledger. His family in Australia now seems to say that he had been suffering from pneumonia for the past couple weeks. A friend of mine sent me a passage from a newspaper story a couple months ago in which Ledger discussed the emotional difficulties he encountered from playing The Joker in Christopher Nolan's Batman sequel The Dark Knight, which opens this summer. Apparently this version of the character is so disturbed and demented that it played a part in Ledger having trouble sleeping, and so he would find himself taking a sleeping pill or two just in an attempt to get more than one or two hours sleep in a night. There have been other reports that he took his recent break-up from Michelle Williams especially hard.

I would ask "who cares?" if I didn't know that in our society everyone does. I don't ask that question to be crass or insensitive because I don't ask it in terms of "Who cares about Heath Ledger?" Rather, I mean, "Who cares how he died?"

Obviously ... still everyone. But at the end of the day, Ledger's death -- like so many other talented people before him, including Brad Renfro just last week -- whether purposefully self-destructive or completely accidental is just one thing: sad. Was it suicide? Did he accidentally take too many sleeping pills because he just wanted to sleep? Was he using any other drugs again recently? All these questions will likely be answered one way or another in the next few days, but that doesn't stop 100 rumors from being thrown out to the world before being retracted (or not) simply because people find some sort of joy even in some form of sadness. Ledger got to lead the high life -- and now, he flew too close to the sun. Or ... he didn't. He just made an accidental and fatal mistake.

Ledger had, at least to my mind, come a long way over the last decade of his consistently growing stardom. Even in something silly like 10 Things I Hate About You, he had a compelling screen presence. That grew into a significant acting talent, exposed beautifully in Brokeback Mountain, and, if one could base such a thing on a trailer (which one can't, but I'm going to anyway), his looks and posture and facial expressions alone make his Joker look like it's going to be something special. As an enormous Batman Begins fan -- a film which I still consider to be the best of 2005 -- I eagerly anticipate Nolan's sequel, and Ledger is one of the main reasons why.

It's just sad, in all definitions and connotations. And yet, whenever something like this happens, I wonder, "Why and how him?" Not because I'm wishing it was someone else instead, but simply because of the curiousity and seeming randomness of it all.

I always flash back to that night in 1993 when I was driving down Sunset Blvd on my way home, noticing a crowd of people on the sidewalk in front of The Viper Room. An ambulance coming from the other direction turned through the intersection in front of me. I had no idea what had happened, and continued driving home. The next morning, I was at a press junket when a friend came up and told me that River Phoenix had died, and putting two-and-two together, I suppose I drove by as he lay dying.

Two years earlier, at the same hotel, in the same ballroom, I was at a different press junket for the film Soapdish. Robert Downey Jr. was there. Robert Downey Jr. was running around the room. Robert Downey Jr.'s eyes were bugging out of his head. Robert Downey Jr. was definitely on something. Robert Downey Jr., 17 years and multiple rehabs and court trials later is still here with us and starring in what should be one of the bigger films of this summer, Iron Man. And I'm happy for that. High or not, he was a really nice guy that day, and he's an incredibly tired actor. But ... how? How has he, and others with similar substance abuse problems, managed to turn back just before reaching the sun.

And really ... other than providing cautionary tales to all of those who don't pay attention to the warnings anyway, does it matter? The film world lost a talented member of its club today. More importantly, his two year old daughter lost a father. It doesn't matter whether he committed suicide or overdosed on recreational drugs or accidentally overdosed on sleeping pills, because at the end of the day, he's gone without being able to use his talent to contribute anything further, and any way you look at that, it's just sad.

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly: Oscar again presents the race for most overrated

As usual, subjecting myself to 15 minutes of E! feels like way too many brain cells have died, but it's the sacrifice I make on Oscar nomination morning. I still need to digest and look at the full list of nominees, but here are some quick thoughts:

The Good: If there is any justice in the Academy Awards world, There Will Be Blood will sweep the big four awards for which it received nominations, however the only true lock I anticipate is Daniel Day-Lewis' pending Best Actor win. I am encouraged, however, that both Blood and No Country for Old Men tied for the lead in nominations with eight each.

I also was pleasantly surprised to see Ratatouille not just receive its expected Best Animated Film nomination but also a Best Screenplay nomination. Even though it won't win, in a field where its competition is Juno, Michael Clayton, Lars and the Real Girl and The Savages, Ratatouille arguably deserves the prize.

The Bad and The Ugly: This seemed like a better idea when I first thought of separating things this way, but instead, I'm probably just tired. Still, I've discovered over the past few years that the Academy loves to drive me crazy (granted, I'm sure my reaction is not foremost on their mind) by nominating more than one film that really truly doesn't belong there.

Babel, Crash and Capone top the list from the past two year with Crash still holding on to most overrated film in recent memory thanks to its Oscar win. This year, the prize for most overrated looks to be a neck-and-neck race between Michael Clayton and Juno. In my own way, I'm less disturbed by the Best Picture nominations each film received as the Best Screenplay and Best Director honors. Neither deserve to be considered one of the top five films of the year, and once again one has to marvel at the Academy's ability to always split one Best Director-Best Picture combo slot between two films. Considering that The Diving Bell and the Butterfly and Atonement are both better than Michael Clayton and Juno, it's quite curious to me that Julian Schnabel received a director nomination for a movie not good enough for the top five and Atonement was apparently directed by nobody. I know, I know ... the two categories don't necessarily have to match-up, especially between its winners, but generally ... they should.

More important, though, Michael Clayton would currently win my most overrated prize. I know many really like the film -- hence the over in front of the "rated" -- and I understand some of its appeal. But the Best Director nod to Tony Gilroy is downright appalling. Michael Clayton survives primarily on its performances and a feel-good, feel-bad story (if that makes any sense). But Gilroy's direction is sloppy at best and virtually incompetent at worst.

Juno is better, and I certainly enjoyed it, but I fall firmly in the camp that thinks the film has received a bit more hype than deserved. The movie is a huge step for Jason Reitman, much better constructed than his previously overlauded Thank You For Smoking, but he doesn't belong in the same room -- let alone nomination list -- with Paul Thomas Anderson, Joel Coen & Ethan Coen or Schnabel. And as for Diablo Cody apparently being the greatest writer to hit Hollywood since Billy Wilder ... oh wait a second. Juno is a crossover success, so I guess she hasn't hit Hollywood yet, right? Of course, as many have written, there's nothing crossover about Juno. Nevertheless, Cody's screenplay is fun and generally well-written, but being a stripper before writing your screenplay should not earn you an Oscar, and yet, that seems to be what anybody ever mentioning her or now this nomination seems to mention first so obviously, that's what's best about her work, right?

Of course, not, and that may not be fair to Cody, but judging the writing simply on the writing, it's good - even very good -- but not great. Sarcasm and irony walks a very fine line in this kind of comedy -- one that Aaron Sorkin has destroyed so that he now finds himself falling uncontrollably down a bottomless pit of quippiness -- and Cody doesn't always tread it lightly enough, nor does she develop all her characters to a complete enough conclusion. Yes, the Juno character -- and Ellen Page's performance -- are what hold this film together, but the rest of the characters -- with some great performances notwithstanding, particularly from Michael Cera -- actually are relatively flat.

THIS JUST IN: THE NEW UGLY: No Best Original Score nomination for Jonny Greenwood for There Will Be Blood. That's not a snub; that's a crime!

More later ....

Cloverfield: A Monster Movie for the New Millenium

The biggest surprise about Cloverfield -- the new monster thriller opening today from Alias and Lost creator-producer J.J. Abrams, directed by his former partner on Felicity Matt Reeves -- is that for the first time in recent memory (if not ever), a January release doesn't royally suck. In fact, Cloverfield is surprisingly (to me, at least) pretty incredible -- a throwback, of sorts, to the classic sci-fi monster films of the 1950s mixed with a DIY, Blair Witch influenced narrative technique and an early 21st century sociological sensibility.

The fact that I just described the film's biggest shock as being simply not sucking while getting a release date generally reserved for films that studios know are bad -- throw aways that won't compete too hard against all the potential awards season releases opening wider and getting audience boosts thanks to nominations and wins -- is not a criticism of the movie itself in any way. In fact, one reason Cloverfield is so good is because it remains thoroughly gripping even though none of the big plot "twists" really come as much of a surprise. The film opens with a note on screen mentioning that the following tape was found in an area of New York formerly known as "Central Park." That one sentence alone seriously limits what is even possible in terms of the story's conclusion. And yet, even as what-happens-next is regularly more than apparent, the film is so well crafted that it continuously thrills even if it doesn't always surprise.

Personally, I'm going to give much of the credit to Reeves. I'm not one of the main members of the JJ Abrams fan club. I've watched each of his series -- except Six Degrees -- semi-religiously, but I find that he comes up with such great ideas for twists that he often jumps out of the bounds of reality within the very worlds he creates in the first place. He certainly did not prove himself to be a great film director with either Mission: Impossible 3 -- really nothing more than a glorified, big budget and not all that interesting big screen episode of Alias.

Cloverfield -- which Abrams produced but did not direct -- is, by contrast, a generally fantastic example of cinematic economy. The film itself -- minus end credits -- runs just over 70 minutes long. It feels neither too long nor too short. With the small exception of ending a couple minutes after the film probably should, there is not really one extraneous moment. It moves along at a pretty quick pace, keeping the audience in a primarily breath-holding, seat-gripping, edge-sitting position for the vast majority of it's final 50-60 minutes -- once the shit really starts flying.

But what makes Cloverfield a great film is that it is, in fact, a brainy one. One of my favorites of 2007 was the Korean monster movie The Host from director Bong Joon-ho (my original 2006 NYFF review is here. Bong's achievement went far beyond simply having a monster run around town stomping on people; his film presents an allegory tremendously critical of U.S. imperialism, international intervention and the Iraq war as well as Korean complacency and paranoia.

During the mid-20th Century, Hollywood sci-fi and monster films of both the A and B variety -- titles such as The Day the Earth Stood Still, War of the Worlds, Them! -- were a not-so-thinly veiled result of the Red Scare. The aliens and monsters were the communists, and the U.S. -- especially personified by regular, hard-working citizens with the support of the government but not because of them -- would usually manage to triumph over the evil enemy.

But we now live in a post-Vietnam and post-9/11 age. Our fears, and therefore our monsters, are scarier, more spontaneous, less calculating and seemingly impossible to find and destroy. So The Host comes from Korea and the U.S. produces Cloverfield.

The allusions to the 9/11 attacks are anything but veiled. When the monster starts attacking New York, the first thing beheaded is the Statue of Liberty, i.e., liberty itself. Meanwhile, the shocked and usually apathetic New Yorkers become momentarily oblivious to the destruction and damage around them to take camera phone pictures of the disembodied statue's head.

The "attack" happens out of nowhere. The people we're following are having a fun time at a going away party, with individuals concerned about their own problems and lives -- are they petty? Doesn't matter -- before being shocked into a new, chaotic reality. Nobody knows what's going on, and in the first minutes, everything is confusing. The monster attacks lower Manhattan first. There are explosions and fireballs. A rolling huge plume of smoke starts coming down the street and people run screaming away from it. Is this imagery too much? For some, it may be, but it's exactly this personal flashback for the audience and the discomfort it may cause that is the film's goal.

Cloverfield is not a happy movie nor a necessarily triumphant one. But the halcyon days of the United States disappeared during the era of Vietnam and Watergate. As much as many in our country like to believe in our invincibility, these days, an even greater percentage likely feel helpless against an "enemy" constantly presented as a thoughtless rampaging creature whose only goal is destruction, and against whom there may not be any true defense. The pessimistic pseudo-apocalyptic outlook presented here is at best a rarity among major Hollywood studio films (and Cloverfield's relatively modest budget does not make it any less a big studio film when coming from Paramount and Abrams' Bad Robot). Even pictures like I Am Legend or 2006's brilliant Children of Men present half-full conclusions that leave the audience with a smidgen of hope regardless of the rest of the film's bleakness. The relative degree of hope versus despair at the end of Cloverfield will be something that audience members might see in different manners, and yet, the film certainly does not argue for a triumphant ending.

Cloverfield isn't for everyone, but it also isn't your average sci-fi thrill-ride with little else to it even if it may appear as such. It sets out to do something very specific, and while not perfect, overall it succeeds magnificently, with the added benefit of never being afraid to add a wee bit of humor at regular intervals to break the tension but without ever overdoing it so it feels unnatural or annoying.

I'm writing this less than two hours after seeing the film. Will Cloverfield stick with me in a similar manner to The Host? I'm guessing not. Although Cloverfield works very well on several levels, it's symbolism and representations are still fairly obvious, at least more so than The Host. But who cares? What Abrams, Reeves and scribe Drew Goddard have done here is pretty remarkable in today's movie market -- made a monster movie with no stars and a relatively small budget that has to make its debut during the doldrums of January, and made it better than possibly any American monster thriller made in recent memory.

The Business of Being Born: A Quick Plug for a Festival Fave

One night during last year's Tribeca, I was hanging out at the AMC Kips Bay supervising my staff and doing some introductions of films. I was scheduled to intro one documentary which coming into the festival was one of my favorites. I had met the filmmaker briefly at our office one day, but not the film's famous producer. Suddenly, this familiar looking woman comes walking down the hallway in some ridiculously high heels. I did a double-take thinking, "Wow? Who's that! She's hot!" Then I did a second double-take (quadruple take overall?) when another one of my internal voices thought about the film I was about to introduce, bitchslapped my brain and said, "Moron. That's Ricki Lake."

Wha?!?

I had actually just seen Lake's picture on the cover of US for a story all about her weight-loss, but she looked even better in person, and I was shocked. I was even more shocked because only about a month before, I had seen Lake very pregnant and very naked giving birth in her home in the film The Business of Being Born.

Abby Epstein's fantastic documentary opened at the IFC Center last week, and if you have yet to see it, you really should go. Guys too! For one thing, the film received a rousing endorsement from its sold out audiences at Tribeca, finishing in the top 5 for the Audience Award. But more importantly, and as I said in each of my two or three introductions for the film, The Business of Being Born is a movie for everyone. In fact, the people on the programming team who wound up being most enthusiastic about it were two men (including myself). Epstein does a tremendous job of not just exposing some major troubling issues regarding the modern birth industry in America, but also in providing -- especially for men -- an in-depth and up-close (sometimes maybe too close?) look at the process, beyond the phony hospital scenes in movies or Lamaze instructional videos, including the vital part that a prospective father can and should play, beyond holding the camcorder.

What's truly impressive about Epstein's film, however, is its balanced while still critical and opinionated perspective. Without giving away the film's narrative -- which relates too Epstein's own pregnancy during the making of the film -- The Business of Being Born expertly describes why there is not only a place for both at home and hospital births, but why the latter is often, in fact, necessary, and how any trained midwife would be the first to tell a woman in labor, "Let's get to the hospital" when such a situation would be necessary. Epstein, Lake and the women (and men) who expose themselves (literally) in this film all deserve applause. But as I discover repeatedly and too often as I watch doc-after-doc submitted to the festival, plenty of filmmakers have their hearts and arguments in their right place; that doesn't make their films compelling or good. Epstein has managed to do what all great and important documentaries do, though: great subject, well made. I urge you to check it out.

It's about time: The Rent is more than paid up

Don't cry for Rent on Broadway. It's about time. In reality, few shows -- if any -- can truly aesthetically sustain a five year run much less a 12 year one, and part of the reason why the Broadway world has not seen a greater collection of outstanding new work over the past decade-plus is because the economics have become such that only a brand name show that sustains its ticket sales can make it. There's little new excitement on Broadway, especially in terms of musicals, because there is little innovative creativity.

I've been on a bit of a theater binge recently, lessened in the New Year due to my work submission screening commitments, but in November and December, I saw more theater than I had been to in all the rest of 2007 and possibly 2006 combined. Some weeks, I was attending four or five shows, Broadway and Off-Broadway -- sadly, I need to find more time for Off-Off -- and while there is a lot of good theater out there, great theater, not so much. But the thing that is truly noticeable is the difference between a new show and an old one, particularly an older show that has moved into the realm of stunt casting or third, fourth or fifth casts. No disrespect to the many talented Broadway performers who don't receive the honor, opportunity and/or luxury of being an original cast member, but shows can get tired, even when they're new to the audience.

I rarely see productions that have been playing for a while. Most original casts -- or at the very least, the leads -- are gone after the first year, and I try to see things when they're new and fresh, for better or worse. It can be worse sometimes ... some shows grow as the cast and production get tighter simply due to repetition.

In the fall, I went to see Hairspray on Broadway. I had never seen the show, and as mentioned here over the summer, I absolutely fell in love with the movie. The cast included Ashley Parker Angel (one of the members of the Making the Band group O-Town), Alexa Vega (best known for her role in the Spy Kids movies), and Jerry Mathers as The Beaver. Wait ... no ... Mathers played Wilbur Turnblad, Tracey's father. For those of you who saw the movie, it was the Christopher Walken role. I'm sure you won't be surprised to hear that The Beav can't really dance, and he sings just a tad bit worse than he dances. Shortly after the performance I attended, Lance Bass of 'N Sync joined the cast. He, Vega and Beav have since left, but George Wendt (NORM!) is now playing Edna Turnblad, the role made famous by Divine in the John Waters movie, Harvey Fierstein in the original Broadway cast, and John Travolta in the movie musical.

No offense to Wendt (NORM!) ... maybe he's great. But when Broadway producers start bringing in stunt or name casting it's because the ticket sales are already on the decline and often that's because the show is too. Sometimes, said casting can revitalize and improve the show. By all accounts, Fantasia (winner of American Idol a few seasons back) did wonders for The Color Purple, not just in terms of ticket sales but bringing a fresh and invigorating interpretation to the role. But these examples tend to be exceptions rather than the rule.

Rent was hit and a phenomenon -- deservedly so or not -- when it was because of when it was. It was a show of its time. It was a show when those remnants of the East Village still existed; when downtown theater types remembered the neighborhood and the AIDS epidemic was becoming more under control but still very real. It was also a real dead time for Broadway, when Andrew Lloyd Weber could do virtually no wrong and anything smaller than Les Mis didn't have a chance. It was a time when Titanic: The Musical and The Life were the closest thing to innovation, and if you don't remember either of those shows, there's good reason -- neither were all that memorable.

Rent was exciting because it was familiar and it was New York and it was "rock" music and its creation was accompanied by a tragic story of its young creator. All these issues have very little to do with whether or not the show was any good. Many will argue that it's awful. Others will argue that it's the best musical of all time. Personally, I'd say they're both wrong. It's a highly flawed but entertaining and provocative enough show. It never was the be-all, end-all reinvention of musical theater as it seemed to be hyped by much of the media frenzy at the time. But it had its moment, and it was interesting and exciting, and it was able to be so because compared to all the other new stuff, it was superior.

I haven't seen the stage production of Rent since some time in 1997 when I saw it for the second and last time. I can't speak to the quality of the current cast or band or production, and I'm sure every member of the show tries as hard as that tremendous group of talent that opened the show on April 29, 1996. But the thing about Broadway and all theater in particular, the primary quality to me that separates it as a performance presentation from film is, unsurprisingly, that it's live. A show is not supposed to run forever. The show that opens in 1996 simply can't be the same show you see in 1999 or 2002 or 2008.

When a show is revived, it usually needs something new and different to make it feel alive again. I know a lot of people have praised the current revival of A Chorus Line which is virtually a duplicate of the original production. As I've mention previously, A Chorus Line is one of my absolute all-time favorite musicals -- and it arguably was a complete reinvention of musical theater at the time. I saw the production soon after it opened and have to admit, I was underwhelmed primarily because I found the cast subpar and the production lacking vitality. Maybe it was an off-night. Maybe they've gotten better since. But theater is a living, breathing, organic experience, subject to the varieties and variations that are utterly unpredictable. And as such, much like it takes my eyes more time to focus in the morning at 36 years old than it did when I was 24, theater gets old.

Rent has aged. Gracefully or not, in dog years, it's almost 84. It's a little sad, but it's also for the best. And maybe there's some young blossoming musical theater writer -- they're out there -- who's ready to wow us with the new Rent (or, better yet, the next Avenue Q) whose ready to pick-up that mantle and help push out the Phantoms and Les Mises and even the relative newcomers like Mamma Mia!. It's just really about time.

R.I.P. Rent. I'm sure some sort of weird nostalgia will bring you back some day, but for now, you're time has come ... and it's about time.

Golden Globes Part 2: Do they actually mean ... anything?

I'm going to let my better judgment get the best of me. Don't act so surprised -- it happens from time-to-time. Last night, while watching a bunch of Tribeca submissions (and finally getting to a film that surprised the hell out of me, keeping me laughing for virtually its entire 90 minutes), I began writing this second collection of Golden Globes thoughts; one based on the awards themselves rather than the pitiful excuse for a show that attracted fewer viewers than the People's Choice Awards. But as I started furiously punching at the keyboard, I suddenly thought to myself ... Who cares? Oh, I mean, I know you already likely didn't care; but suddenly I didn't as well. I found myself agreeing completely with Eugene from indieWIRE: "Thank you, writers." Whatever good will hopefully come out of the WGA strike as well as whatever hardships have already been created for much of Hollywood, at least this one minor tiny positive thing was revealed clearer than ever: even as the HFPA has managed to long receive more press notice than any other "critics" group, no organization is less reputable in handing out such awards nor less worthy of such attention.

You don't even have to go so far as questioning who won what, but it's certainly easy to do so. Billy Bush, as I described yesterday in detail, couldn't have sounded more stupid, however he did say one thing that was dead one when he mentioned that the HFPA likes to "spread things around." They also like to try to show an independent or rebellious streak, but everything is planned so as not to alienate the big stars or major studios. And so, you see No Country For Old Men bringing the Coen brothers a Best Screenplay prize, but Atonement winning Best Picture - Drama and Julian Schnabel taking Best Director. That's not specifically a criticism of either film: I loved The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, and I think it marked a giant leap forward for Schnabel; and I liked Atonement quite a bit, actually, but it is a serious Awards contender less thanks to standout cinematic excellence than to a less disturbing storyline.

Their credibility is shot by the simple fact that even their categories make absolutely no sense anymore. Splitting the Best Picture, Best Actor and Best Actress categories into Drama and Musical/Comedy is, at this point, so wrong for so many reasons. Why aren't the Director, Screenplay and especially Supporting Actor/Actress prizes split if the primary idea behind doing so is to judge relative quality on a more level playing field? Why are the Drama prizes considered more worthwhile? But more importantly, why are musicals automatically lumped in with comedies. This year, not one of the Musical/Comedy winners had anything to do with comedy. Sure, Sweeney Todd has some macabre, darkly comedic moments, but it is not in any way a comedy. Regardless of how great Marion Cotillard may be in La Vie en Rose (I have not seen the film, yet I've heard she's sensational), it is in no way a comedic performance. Why shouldn't her performance -- in a film that is arguably not even a musical -- or all of Sweeney Todd be in the Drama category? Tim Burton's movie is better than at least four of the overblown seven Drama nominees anyway.

But it's not actually about awarding excellence, for whatever that's worth anyway. It's about staying on the good side of every network and studio so that when the next year rolls around, the HFPA can make a shitload of money by allowing Dick Clark Productions and NBC to produce their little party, and by having its members courted all winter long with SWAG and junkets and free stuff. The Golden Globes are a racket; they're a producer of graft; and while celebrating Daniel Day-Lewis' win, Mad Men receiving the Best Drama TV series prize and other deserving winners should still be done, it would be better to bury the Globes than to honor them. While they once had a significant influence over who might receive Oscar nominations, thankfully, Academy balloting has for the last several years had their deadline before the Globes were announced, so a Globe win is no longer an automatic Oscar nomination. Thank goodness for small favors.

The Golden Globes: One hour seemed more than enough, and way too much Bush

It's almost pointless to critique -- positively or otherwise -- The Golden Globes. The Hollywood Foreign Press becomes a more laughable and pandering award-bestowing organization every year, and the awards not-handed-out tonight -- with its seven Best Dramatic Picture nominations and the Best Musical/Comedy Picture category proving more than ever before how inane it is to automatically have those two broad genres combined -- were no less absurd than any other year, and possibly more so. I don't mean to imply that the various winners (or at least most of them) weren't deserving, but the obvious methodology this relatively small group of foreign critics and journalists use to determine who gets the tiny statuettes has always been based more on pandering, swag and the continued desire for prestige than anything honest. And every year around this time, we always have to remind ourselves that the only reason the Golden Globes have become as big a deal as they have is because the HFPA was able to sell a TV show and throw a party. Well, without either this year, the awards themselves were even more front-and-center, and that, as usual, wasn't really a good thing.

And besides ... what the hell was that? Do you think people in that studio and at NBC were congratulating each other for a job well done? I'm not intimating that producing the kind of show they were forced to do tonight was easy, but it certainly would be easier with less brain-dead hosts than Nancy O'Dell and (especially) Billy Bush.

Actually, critiquing the awards themselves is almost less interesting than simply paying attention to some of the more ridiculous things that came out of Bush's mouth. If there was ever any doubt that Billy is related to our not-so-well-spoken president, it was certainly laid to rest during this broadcast, which somehow felt even less informative and entertaining than an episode of the talking heads' own Access Hollywood. Take, for example, the commentary after Sweeney Todd was announced as the winner of the Best Motion Picture - Comedy/Musical award when Bush said, "Tim Burton and Johnny Depp: when you get that kind of collaboration, between Scorsese and DiCaprio or something, it just seemed to be able to pull it off together." Now, I won't pay any mind to the lack of any sort of coherence within the English language, let's just look at the great historical actor/director pairing Bush chooses to utilize as a comparison to Burton/Depp -- Scorsese and DiCaprio. Because yes, folks -- when people who know anything about film history are going to choose great director and actor collaborations, including modern ones that the average moviegoer would remember, Martin Scorsese and Leonardo DiCaprio certainly jumps to mind first. No disrespect to Leo -- who I enjoy as an actor; I was one of the relatively few to applaud his performance in The Aviator when he seemed to bug a lot of people -- but I'm pretty sure even he would have had to have a little chuckle at that one. OK fine -- James Stewart and Terrence Mann might have been a bit too obscure for today's audience. Even John Ford and John Wayne might not have worked. But Molly Ringwald and John Hughes would have been a better comparison to use if you're going to pair Martin Scorsese with someone other than Robert De Niro! I mean ... really? And he gets paid a lot of money to spew that blather?

But wait ... there's so much more ...

Happy New Year! Tardy Resolutions Due to Figuring Out How to Drink Your Milkshake! DRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAINAGE!

What's 11 days between friends? Who's to say that all new year challenges/resolutions/goals/what-have-you need to start on January 1? Sure, that's the easy way out, but just think how much more fun it could be to hold off on all those resolutions until, say, oh, I don't know ... the end of the second week of the month? Follow?

Fine. So I'm just here trying to rationalize the fact that I have spent 11 days of 2008 ready to sit down and focus on writing again, ready to stare at that blankish white screen and resume my fanatical commentaries, and yet, it's not until another sleepless night at 4:20 AM that I'm really able to let my fingers commence their verbal marathons. I've neglected "Out of Focus" for way too long, and I've written about neglecting "Out of Focus" far too often. Resolution #1, therefore, is that no longer (after this post) will I publicly commiserate as to the fact that I haven't had time to publicly pontificate.

Of course, for those of you with the patience and kindness to continue to follow this space, you will know that I have made previous claims to returning my focus and attention to regular writing, for better or worse, and here yet again, I will cry wolf one more time, but as was the case when I started this blog nearly four (holy crap, really?!) years ago, I'm not necessarily sure what that attention will be, nor how successful I will be at retaining it. When I started this blog, I was bored out of my mind in a job I hated. Now, I'm in the exact opposite situation -- far from bored in a job I (most of the time) really like. And yet, said job makes it difficult to sometimes write about certain films, especially ones that instigate my own personal bubbling bile that lead to my own personal favorite rants.

And yet (again) ... I still have a lot to say, a lot I want to say, a lot someone may or may not care about, and a lot of discussions in which I want to participate. So my goal for 2008 is simply one of consistency and balance. Can I achieve a goal when to most I've already failed at it? Of course. As one of my many muses describes in her great piece on The Huffington Post, she's taking things now "one day at a time," and if today doesn't go well, there's always tomorrow. It's odd how I've always managed to use that very same philosophy in certain areas but completely disregard it when flogging myself for not following through in others.

So that brings us to Resolution #2 (also not exactly new): to return this space to one mostly devoid of posts like this. I never intended to keep an online journal, nor do I want to now. This is a space to look at film and television and theater; a site that may occasionally discuss music or books or sports or politics; a corner of the web that may infrequently discuss this or that going on in my life, but not when all the content is as infrequent as it has been.

And there is so much about which to write far more interesting than my ability to procrastinate, most notably, the thing so many have already written about. Like Filmbrain and many others, I am thoroughly obsessed with Paul Thomas Anderson's There Will Be Blood, not only hands-down by leaps-and-bounds by far the best film of 2007, but I would argue the best film of the current decade. As has been my tradition for the past two years, my top film of one year is the first film I watch in the New Year, so after seeing Blood on Dec. 26 at the AMC Lincoln Square, I knew I would need to head back to the Upper West Side some time on Jan. 1. And I did. I've seen in twice -- I'm dying to see it again.

And The Wire, arguably the best television series of the decade, has resumed for its final season, to kick off a year when an unfortunate, but worthwhile, strike may see us starved for anything good come summer and after. And after moving from a Time Warner neighborhood to a Cablevision one, I've become so frustrated with the latters crappy DiVo that I have finally upgraded to the real thing, the non-generic TiVo service, with multiple machines on my multiple screens. And the FCC has actually taken-on the cable company monopolies in a good way. And no longer am I watching everything in sepia-tones on my 14-year-old piece of shit TV. And my Niners totally blew again, arguably worse than before. And I'm hoping for an Obama-Richardson administration that will feature Secretary of State Joe Biden. And I went on a theater binge in November and December that was a bit ridiculous. And I'm waist-deep now in work, screening submissions and trying to devise a theater and screening plan for Tribeca that hopefully everyone will enjoy (we have some new things in store that are quite exciting, in fact). And is anyone else as happy as I that at least one good thing has come out of the writers' strike so far? That the Hollywood Foreign Press has had to give up their little party that always showcases their absurd organization as being far more important than it is? And ... and ... and ....

You get the idea. So, I won't tell you to buckle up; and aside from the plan to post my best (and worst) of 2007 comments in the next week or two, I'm just going to go with the flow, and hopefully, just like the sun and the moon and the tides, the flow will be regular and the ebb will be temporary.

Happy New Year all. Here we go ... I think.

Adding My Voice to the Chorus of Hosanas

I'm not going to take the time right now to write a full review of No Country For Old Men, the latest film from the Coen Brothers which opens today. Suffice it to say, when I saw it at a New York Film Festival press screening last month, I was simply blown away. It is easily one of the best films of 2007, and it most certainly rivals Fargo -- in my book -- for the best of their work. In fact, I hesitate to say "rivals" instead of "surpasses."

Unlike many literary adaptations from books that interest me, I did not refrain from seeing the film until after reading Cormac McCarthy's novel, but since seeing the film, I am anxious to dig into its paper-based counterpart and source material. I'm going to refrain from writing in detail about the film until after I've had that literary comparison just because it's more fun for me that way. But regardless of how much I do or don't like McCarthy's novel, my love for this film.

No Country For Old Men has obviously stayed with me for quite a while. I'm always most fascinated by movies that take standard genre elements and then mix, merge and match in order to create something new. It's obviously something the Coens have been doing since their first three movies. Blood Simple, Raising Arizona and Miller's Crossing forcefully announced a duo with a unique and fascinating sensibility and imagination. Blood Simple was their take on noir, but it now also seems to be something akin to a scientific control: that one element that arguably can be found in all their work; an exploration of the darker sides of human character, even in their good guys. My favorite Clint Eastwood directing effort has always been The Unforgiven because of the masterly way he took the two most American of film genres -- film noir and the traditional Western -- and combined them into something utterly fresh and unique. While not a "traditional" Western nor noir in the least and taking plenty of cues from Hitchcock and other suspense traditions, No Country For Old Men signifies a similar achievement to me -- the pinnacle of what the Coens have been doing for nearly a quarter of a century now.

Go see it.

Jury Duty Which I Actually Enjoyed

Tonight might be the opening of the Seventh Annual Mahindra Indo-American Arts Council Film Festival in New York, but it's a first for me. My friend Payal Sethi (who worked last year at Tribeca with me) is the festival's programmer, and a few weeks ago, she asked if I'd like to be on one of their juries. Of course I said yes. My first festival jury; kicking back to watch some Bollywood; sounds great!

Of course, the seven films I had to watch turned out to not really be traditional Bollywood in the least. In fact, not one of them was a musical. A couple had some songs, but not in the standard song-and-dance number way. But that actually made it all more interesting: to see the kind of Indian cinema that likely doesn't come to mind, at least to those who don't follow it. As I was telling people that I had to watch Indian films all weekend, everybody obviously thought I was subjecting myself (for better or worse -- depends on your perspective, I suppose) to multiple three-plus hour movies filled with flowing saris and lip-synched production numbers.

The jury deliberation experience was an interesting one even though my colleagues and I seemed to mostly agree without too much debate on our selections. I don't feel like I can really say which films I enjoyed the most because that would indicate what won the Best Film and Best Director prizes, so I'll come back to talk about the films in more detail after the winners are announced on Sunday night. The films under consideration for those prizes which I had to watch were Dosar, Frozen, Manorama Six Feet Under, Missed Call, Valley of Flowers, Via Darjeeling and The Voyeurs. (You can buy tickets to any of these films online at meraticket.com.)

I'd encourage you to take a look at the film descriptions and check-out a few of them. The festival also features a large number of short films playing as part of various programs. The most fascinating thing to me about all these films was the various approaches towards stories much like the ones in American mainstream and other Westerncinema. From Manorama's homage to Chinatown to Dosar's almost Sirkian qualities; Valley of Flowers' reminded me in a way of The Fountain while Via Darjeeling utilized its own twist on the consistently mimicked Rashomon-tale. (Yes, I know Rashomon is Japanese! Hence the "consistently mimicked" descriptive phrase.) The Voyeurs creates its own mix of a slice-of-life tale with some "peeping Tom"/Rear Window elements. Frozen, for some reason, had me thinking, "This is what Terrence Malick might shoot if he ever decided to do black & white in the Himalayas." And Missed Call certainly owes a lot to every first-person diary film or, to a degree, mockumentary about young-adult angst and relationships. And yet, all of them have their own specific perspective grounded in the place and the culture from which they come. And not a one has a big dance number, thereby blowing your perception of everything Bollywood, right?

But who am I to tell you: go see for yourself, and next week, you can argue with me over the winning films if you disagree.

Pausing for Podcasts: Radiolab Digs Through the Dirt

As I've discussed before, I'm addicted to Podcasts. In an era where polemical talk radio dominates the airwaves and in a city like New York where most of us barely listen to radio because we don't drive to work each day, for me, the "Podcast" as an entity has had quite an impact. I've always listened to NPR here and there, but I've never had the chance to listen to some programs (and discover others) as regularly as since discovering podcasts two or three years ago.

One of the best radio shows around is WNYC's Radiolab. If absence truly does make the heart grow fonder, people should be fondest of Radiolab. The hour-long program which uses science to look at a variety of interesting subjects is produced in seasons of only five episodes each. Maybe the amount of time and care taken to produce each hour is why the show is so damn fascinating and phenomenal. I have yet to listen to an episode that hasn't kept me riveted. As I only discovered the show a few months ago, everything is still new to me.

The episodes are rebroadcast on WNYC every two weeks, and then posted as "Detective Stories". The episode is summarized on their web site as follows:

Forensics, archeology, genealogy, and genetics are devoted to figuring out what really happened. In this hour, we hear surprising stories of playing detective and finding that what really happened in the past is not at all what you’d expected. We start at a trash dump in Egypt, where we find Jesus, Satan, sissies, and porn. Next, the mystery of why hundreds of old letters written to the same woman were discovered on the side of Route 101. And lastly, a blood sampling tour of Asia reveals a prolific baby-maker and potentially a world conqueror.

The final two stories are particularly fascinating. I found myself laughing out loud in the grocery store last night during parts of "Goat on a Cow," only minutes after being saddened by the central events in the story. And the implications presented in "Genghis Kahn" are no less jaw dropping.

Give Radiolab a try. It's another one of those radio shows that proves why at one time even television was considered to possibly be simply nothing more than a fad that could never completely replace radio. Just like talkies!