Quick takes pre-awards season

I want to post these brief reviews before a) the onslaught of end-of-year blockbusters; and b) my annual critique of the Golden Globe nominations.

Let's start with two foreign films:

I've Loved You So Long

(FRANCE)

This film is dominated by an award-worthy performance by Kristin Scott-Thomas as a just-released convicted murderer who goes to live with her estranged younger sister and her multi-cultural family: sis and her husband adopted two Vietnamese girls--I don't know why I note that fact, except that the two girls are quite annoying. [The title, apparently, comes from a French lullaby.] Scott-Thomas completely drains herself of all charm, beauty and emotion to inhabit this role -- quite fearless for an actress who (in my eyes) always appears charming and beautiful, if a bit cool emotionally. See The English Patient. But it is not a scenery-chewing role. You have to wait until the end for a big emotional outburst; in the meantime, the characters and the lives they inhabit are so real that you come to care about what happens to them.

Just as good as Scott-Thomas is Elsa Zylberstein as younger sis Lea. She brings just barely to the surface all the conflicting feelings of a sibling who is both trying hard to reconnect with a sister she still looks up to, while still harboring resentment for her abandonment. Other actresses would try to out-act her co-star; Elsa reveals her character in the small moments that make it all the more powerful.

Let the Right One In
(SWEDEN)

Consider this vampire movie the "anti-Twilight." First, the two leads are quite ordinary-looking tweeners, not the tabloid-ready, pretty faces of the Twilight teens. Second, this movie reminds you that feasting on human blood to survive is very messy business. Grisly and gruesome, too. Finally, it takes place among the working class denizens of stark apartment blocks, cold cafes, and frozen streets of urban Sweden (I didn't catch in which city it takes place). Not something Bergman ever showed us.

Sounds rather bleak, doesn't it? Still, I walked out afterwards both impressed by the filmmaker's technique and moved by the story. Except for a couple of cheap special effects, the scenes are artfully filmed (if you aren't turned off by throat-slitting, decapitation, and a pack of angry cats!) I was very pleased with the performance of the cats in this film: most of these movies use pets only as quick snacks for a thirsty vampire. Here, the cats -- with the aid of some discreet animation -- are the aggressors against the undead. They mean business, too!

The story involves a lonely boy with divorced parents who is the victim of bullying at school. He forms a friendship with the at-first reluctant neighbor who is a loner like him, but unlike him, she can take care of herself and instills in him the courage to do the same. They form a trusting and accepting friendship that leads to an inevitable conclusion. As a side story, the sad sack adults who unwittingly get caught up in all of this violence do not fare well at all: one-by-one they get murdered or bitten, yet they show a strange reluctance to seek the aid of the Police! Unwitting and witless, perhaps, but you still feel sorry for them.

Next up:
Changeling (Dir: Clint Eastwood)
Happy-Go-Lucky (Dir: Mike Leigh)

Vera Farmiga

The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas

Dir: Mark Herman (2008)

I will go to see Vera Farmiga in just about anything.* She is destined for Cate Blanchett-like greatness. I even plan to rent her first breakout role in the indie "Down to the Bone." I say this to explain what would make me go to this troubling concept film: an adaptation of a children's novel that deals with the Holocaust from the point of view of a privileged German child. Touchy material, to say the least. I myself am very wary of any depictions of World War II atrocities in the context of an 'entertainment' (see, or better yet, don't see, Miracle at St. Anna). And I cannot argue with people who find this movie morally reprehensible -- except for those critics who feel so high and mighty they break the cardinal rule of movie-reviewing by revealing the ending!! (Don't worry, I gave the NY Times' Manohla Dargis a piece of my mind!) But I am not one of those people -- I found it powerful and moving.

I am using the proper British title, per IMDB, because this is a veddy British production down to its core: all the Germans speak with British accents which, once you resign yourself to this anachronism, isn't as distracting as I would have thought (at least all the accents are consistently British). And the story moves down a conventional path: family of Nazi officer leaves their secluded life in Berlin to move next door to a concentration camp, and predictably lose their illusions about the world they live in. (It takes them a surprisingly long time, considering they moved next to a CONCENTRATION CAMP!!) True, this is a story told from the point-of-view of an eight-year-old, but at times you want to tell the kid to "wise-up already!!"

He does eventually wise up, but the payoff is so emotionally powerful and gut-wrenching ... while at the same time doing justice to the unspeakable horror of the millions of victims this movie had previously ignored ... that I do not feel bad recommending it for its small contribution to our collective memory.

This is the film that made Vera famous!

* I make an exception for "Joshua," because I am so sick of movies about creepy & evil little boys... The Omen, The Omen: II, Damian: Omen III....enough already!

Brad Pitt's two most recent movies reviewed

The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford

Dir: Andrew Dominik (2007)

I am kicking myself for not seeing this film the year it was released (I caught it last night on Cinemax). It would definitely have made my Top Ten. It is an evocative, moody period piece that takes its place alongside other notable 'modern' Westerns that revitalized the genre: from Unforgiven to Deadwood. My one sentence synopsis would be "Deadwood, starring Brad Pitt!"

I don't mean that as a slight, either. Brad Pitt is amazing as the iconic Jesse James--another tormented anti-hero who has reached a level of notoriety where he mistrusts everyone. (If it reminds you of Keith Carradine's excellent turn as Wild Bill Hickock in Deadwood, it should: the movie captures the same zeitgeist perfectly). Also like that HBO series, the film's supporting cast is without flaw -- a who's who of indie character actors: starting with memorable Deadwood alum Garret Dillahunt; Sam Rockwell (Choke); Paul Schneider (Lars & the Real Girl); a sadly-wasted Mary Louise Parker as Mrs. Jesse James; and Sam Shepard in a cameo as older brother Frank.

It is a shame Casey Affleck turned in his performance of a lifetime the same year as Javier Bardem's Anton Chigura in No Country: he inhabits the character even more than he did in his other breakthrough performance in last year's Gone Baby Gone. And kudos to the director, an obscure New Zealander who brought Eric Bana to these shores in Chopper. I wish I had been on board this movie from the start.

Burn After Reading

Dirs: Joel & Ethan Coen (2008)

For every Big Lebowski there has to be a Barton Fink.

That is the immutable rule of the Coen Brothers comic universe: you stomach the bad (Fink) in anticipation of the classic (Lebowski). For one Raising Arizona, Hudsucker Proxy, Fargo, and O Brother, Where Art Thou?, you have to sit through the dreck of The Ladykillers and Burn Without Reading. In spite of its A-list cast (George Clooney and Frances McDormand are comic masters--Tilda Swinton cannot do much with a one-note role), Burn is just that: another mean-spirited look at a collection of losers who are not so much funny as pathetic. That doesn't stop the Coens from holding them up to ridicule and then pulling the rug out from under the audience for sympathizing with them.

For a supposed comedy, I didn't laugh out loud once until the very end of the movie, where character-actor par excellence J.K. Simmons delivers some hilarious lines at CIA headquarters. That and the authentic DC locales (where I used to jog in George Clooney's footsteps! ... or his in mine, more accurately) are the only redeemable features.

But this post is about Brad Pitt, so I have to comment on his performance. I took alot of heat in some quarters for saying this about a long-forgotten Matt Dillon role, but I think it applies even more to Mr. Pitt: He is too smart an actor to play dumb. He is!! He doesn't give a bad performance so much as an unconvincing one (like he's trying too hard). I can only hope he proves my point with an award-worthy performance in the much-anticipated Benjamin Button.

Honestly, doesn't he strike a more iconic, larger than life, movie star pose in the picture at the left than the one on the right? (I'm just saying .... )

Rachel Getting Married

Dir: Jonathan Demme (2008)

It is hard to describe the premise of this movie without making you think of a dozen other movies: main character returns home for a big family get together, and all hell breaks loose as past resentments and buried dysfunctions come to the surface. It's usually a holiday (Thanksgiving--Home for the Holidays; Christmas--The Family Stone, just to name two), but a wedding works just as well: remember "Margot at the Wedding"? Of course you don't--NO ONE saw it!! (despite my glowing review).

RGM is a better movie than Margot, because it has a heart. Nicole Kidman gave a brave, uncompromising performance as a selfish, uncaring sister in the latter, but Anne Hathaway is even better...as a selfish, uncaring, but damaged sister Kym to Rachel. It is her Best Performance since "Becoming Jane." Seriously! She is totally believable as an addict recently released from rehab. In a revealing scene at the rehearsal dinner, everyone toasts the bride and groom--except Kim, whose toast is all about herself. Who hasn't had that happen at a family gathering? (foreignfilmguy is naming no names.)

The movie is filled with a multi-cultural stew of relatives, friends, entertainers and wedding traditions. That is refreshing -- up to a point. The movie never explains why this inter-racial marriage of a white, suburban Connecticut bride to an African-American groom had a Hindi wedding ceremony. And don't get me started on the reception! They hired enough entertainers for 5 receptions! Jamaican singers, jazz, samba dancers, even Robyn Hitchcock shows up, for Pete's sake! (I thought that dude was dead.) The family is all upset when the estranged mother (played by a radiant Debra Winger) decides to skip out. I'm thinking "I'm with you, Deb!"

A note on casting: Bill Irwin--Great as the Dad who is the emotional, nurturing core of the family (another refreshing surprise); Rosemarie Dewitt--Great as Rachel (and the spitting image of a young Debra Winger!); in fact, the only bland character at this shindig proves to be the Groom. Sydney is a real Dud.

But the positives far outweigh my negatives. Jonathan Demme has fashioned one of the Ten Best Movies of the Year. Go see it.

Anne Hathaway did NOT wear this to Rachel's wedding (thank goodness!)

Miracle at St. Anna

Dir: Spike Lee (2008)

Spike Lee has achieved what he has been dreaming about all his life: he has made a WWII movie centered on black soldiers that is just as bad as the ones Hollywood churned out during the war and just after. Trouble is, we are in the next century already! The war movie has been refined a bit since the 1940s (but apparently the only war movie Spike has seen since then is "Saving Private Ryan" (because he borrows from it shamelessly). His longtime music collaborator, Terrence Blanchard, uncharacteristically follows suit: his soundtrack is chock-full of every rehashed, hackneyed musical motif from all of those war movies combined! (This from the man who gave us the original and electrifying musical background to last year's "Inside Man." I wouldn't expect him to lay an egg, too.)

I will not start at the beginning, because the 'framing device' of a story set in the present is so mishandled that it rivals the other worse parts of the movie. The initial battle action faced by this unit of all-black soldiers is straight out of the first half-hour of Spielberg's SPR. Then Lee reverts to standard, cliche-driven hokum (also a feature of SPR) as we get to know the four members of group who are stranded on the wrong side of an Italian river. Individually, these young and mostly unknown actors are convincing, even likeable. I do not doubt for a minute the racism they endured in the US Army and in American society as a whole, either. But Lee's depiction of this racism is so ham-handed and obvious that it is embarrassing to watch. [For a parallel, see mentor Spielberg (again) in his absolute worst movie: "The Color Purple."]

But that's not the worst part of the movie. At the movie's centerpiece is an atrocity committed by the Nazis in a Tuscan village called Sant'Anna di Stazzema (where the movie was actually filmed): 560 civilians were gunned-down by the retreating SS. An unspeakable act that needs to be remembered and the lives of those victims honoured. For this sequence, I would have applauded Lee for taking a page from Spielberg's note-perfect "Schindler's List" on the proper, respectful way to depict such an atrocity in an entertainment vehicle. Instead, he treats it with all the subtlety (and historical accuracy) of Roland Emmerich's "The Patriot," i.e., none. (You remember that detestable Revolutionary War pic (with Mel Gibson & Heath Ledger), that had the nerve to depict the British soldiers on an equal plane of depravity as the Nazis!)

Here, Lee has come under fire from Italian survivors for inventing a character of a turncoat partisan who plays a part in the massacre. It is justified fire, from what I have read: it is these peoples' history, after all. They deserve to have it told to the world accurately. My beef is in the way Lee points his unblinking camera at every bullet-ridden civilian at the point of their murder, and then goes back to give us a shot of 'artfully-posed,' blood-streaked corpses. Most directors know when to show the brutality outright, and when it would be more powerful to show the aftermath. Lee cannot resist showing us both -- every time. The effect is dulling and vulgar. When Lee inevitably shows a crying baby on top of her dead mother, the audience's emotion is not sympathy or dread, it is "I can't believe he is stooping this low" (to show us a baby getting bayoneted). But stoop he literally does: you guessed it, he films the hovering Nazi from the perspective of the baby!

But that's not the worst part of the movie! Remember the framing device I said I wouldn't mention? Not only does it make a long movie interminable, it is filled with the worst collection of 'look-at-who-my-friends-are' cameos since Burt Reynolds hung up his car keys! Every one of them is out-of-place and completely unnecessary to the plot: John Turturro, ___ Gordon-Levitt, Kerry Washington, but especially, ESPECIALLY the pointless appearance by John Leguizamo! Somebody please explain to me why his scene was ever necessary? It ends with his newspaper flying out the window and landing on a key character's table. Why couldn't that character have just BOUGHT THE FREAKIN' PAPER! (I just saved five minutes of screen time, right there). Sheesh, Spike, sheesh ....

Sacred & Profane

Religulous

(D: Larry Charles; 2008)

This is the sacred one

You know Larry Charles: he's the guy who forced "Borat" on an unsuspecting world. He's at it again--making fun of unsuspecting fools, that is. I suppose it is tempting to appear on camera, no matter the circumstance (why else would people still agree to sit with a 'Daily Show' correspondent?). But the technique -- which can be amusing up to a point -- soon becomes tedious. And its more of the same here: why make a thoughtful critique of religion in today's society when you can just make fun of the wingnuts?

This movie is a veritable parade of wingnuts. I don't blame Bill Maher--he is a comedian first, so it is natural for him to go for the joke every chance he gets. But time after time, all we get are snippets of interviews with the most extreme members of one faith or another (Christians, Muslims, Jews, pot smokers) . Even the serious commentators who agreed to appear (scientist Francis X. Collins is the only one who comes to mind) get the same treatment: anytime anyone comes close to thoughtfully challenging Maher's premise, the movie quick-cuts to Mormon cartoons or an evangelical/Godspell song-and-dance number.

In the most-egregious example of this technique, the filmmakers send a film crew all the way to Vatican City, yet don't bother to find a more competent advocate of the Catholic faith than some nut Maher interviews on the street!

The best part of the movie comes towards the end, when Maher goes to the Temple Mount in Jerusalem. Here I actually learn something--but it comes much too late to save this picture. In what should be the movie's strong point, the equivalent of Maher's closing "Real Time" essay, where he looks into the camera and delivers a scathing attack on the latest outrage of the day, is undermined by this hack director, who insists on diverting our attention with an MTV-montage of violence and extremism (which we are supposed to take "on faith" was religion-inspired) while Maher's point is completely drowned out. If Charles was striving for a "call to action" moment, like the end of "An Inconvenient Truth," he fails miserably. If Charles thinks he can clone the Michael Moore formula, he has only left out the intelligence, the wit, and the courage to confront an issue head-on.

Now for the good stuff . . . The Profane:

Choke

(D: Stuart Gregg; 2008)

The author of "Fight Club" penned this outrageous look at a sex addict who works in a Williamsburg-type colonial village by day, and by night cons people into giving him money after they save his life by performing the Heimlich maneuver on him (and in-between visits his mother in a mental institution). That's the best synopsis I can give, but it fails to convey the hilarious sordidness of the piece. This guy--and the people he interacts with -- are real losers! But the creators of this indie hit have an obvious fondness for these oh-so damaged characters, which is conveyed in every committed, whacked-out performance: from Sam Rockwell in the lead, to the great Anjelica Huston as the deranged mother, to Kelly Macdonald (last seen in "No Country For Old Men"), down to the perfect supporting turns by Heather Burns ("Miss Congeniality I & II"), newcomer Gillian Jacobs (as a stripper named Cherry Daiquiri--"not her real name") and the director himself. You might not have heard of this movie--it is not to everyone's taste--but neither was "Fight Club". . . and you remember the first rule of Fight Club, don't you?

Tropic Thunder

(D: Ben Stiller, 2008)

(Profane, part II)

The summer comedy blockbuster of the year!
Ben Stiller nails it, in his scathing send-up of all of our worst fears about Hollywood's egotism, excess, greed, and crassness. To wit: Actors are pompous asses, and so is everyone else in Hollywood! No, that's not a revelation, but never has it been driven home so relentlessly. Outrageous and offensive it is -- but it has to be! Not since Austin Powers (I) has a comedy been this silly, daring, ridiculous and laugh-out-loud funny throughout.

For better or worse, Stiller has developed his craft at the feet of the Farrelly Brothers, which becomes obvious in the movie's most controversial segment (repeated references to the leading man's role in a movie as a mentally-challenged man, in a blatant attempt to earn an Oscar). But the at-times uncomfortable laughs are at the expense of an industry that will exploit anyone, not at the expense of the so-called 'retarded.'

Yes, Tom Cruise is great in a supporting role --I've known that since "magnolia." It is Robert Downey, Jr. who steals the show, however, proving to be equally adept at comedy as he is at drama (witness last year's "Zodiac.")

Vicky Christina Barcelona

D: Woody Allen (2008)

Here's the funny thing--it turns out I liked Vicky better than Christina or Barcelona! That's not what I expected from the reviews, trailers, even the poster: Vicky is barely in any of them (if at all). Yet Vicky (played by British stage actress Rebecca Hall) has more screen time than either of the two female leads: Scarlett Johansson (the titular Christina) or Penelope Cruz (Maria Elena). What I really like about her is that she's uptight, intellectual, and brunette--a combination I have never been able to resist.

Christina, on the other hand, is blonde, flirty, and can't hold her liquor.

In her defense, who wouldn't jump at the chance to spend a weekend in the Spanish countryside with Javier Bardem? (I mean it beats 'Rodanthe'-- I don't even know where that is!!) As for the third woman in this love quadrangle, Woody Allen makes us wait a good hour before Penelope Cruz even makes an appearance! It is effective in one sense: after all the anticipation, she blazes a hole in the screen when she arrives and shakes up their world.

[SIDEBAR: I can't think of another foreign actress who is so markedly better in her native tongue than she is in English. If you need proof (and have Netflix), rent Abre los ojos, Vanilla Sky, Volver, and Woman on Top -- and watch them back-to-back-to-back. I dare you!!]

The movie unfolds as an adult exploration of love, passion, fear, and perpetual dissatisfaction with life... all the uncomfortable issues you expect in a Woody Allen film. I must say, getting him out of Manhattan has really rejuvenated his filmmaking.

On the other hand (there is always another hand) the film's drawbacks are apparent: Penelope Cruz is so good, you wish the movie were about her! Her scenes with Bardem show such untapped potential: that is the core relationship in the movie -- I wish it had been explored more. (How often do you get the 'King & Queen of Spanish Cinema' in the same movie, after all!) Second, the narration is rather bland. I don't know if its the fault of the script or the narrator, but if you are going to use that device, why not use it to its full advantage by providing some insight? Third, the climactic scene is somewhat of a dud, even though the movie ends on a satisfactory, wistful note that remains consistent with the overall tone of the film. And the too-few scenes of Barcelona's landmarks look strangely washed out.

Back to the first hand, the Spanish guitar-heavy soundtrack is awesome!! It really puts you in the place. (The opening theme alone is worth the price of admission). Book my flight now! (as soon as the dollar rebounds).

Rebecca Hall at Cannes

An all-Czech weekend!

DATELINE - Austin, Texas - Sept. 27th:

Another 'Post From the Road', again at my favorite coffeehouse in Austin (Halcyon on W. 4th St.). Why am I in Austin, you ask?? To see the stars of last year's indie hit -- and Oscar* winner -- "Once," of course! (Not once, but twice!)

Yesterday I saw the band known as "The Swell Season" (featuring Irish musician Glenn Hansard & Czech singer Marketa Irglova) in an abbreviated, 45-minute set, hampered by sound and equipment difficulties, at the 7th Annual Austin City Limits Festival -- my first visit to this renowned event (the closest I will have to a Woodstock experience, since I am too old for 'Burning Man.')

I also heard complete sets by David Byrne and Patty Griffin, and sampled songs from Alejandro Escovedo, Jenny Lewis (Rilo Kiley), the Freddy Jones Band (from Chicago? never heard of them), and Jakob Dylan (sounds just like his dad!)

Tonight I will be seeing a more complete set by the Swells at the historic Paramount Theater in downtown Austin. Set lists for both shows will follow, as will my review of the Sunday matinee of the film "I Served the King of England," by noted Czech director Jiri Menzel. That will make it 3 Czech artists in 3 days! (In Central Texas, where Czech immigrants settled in the 19th Century).
I think I'll stop for a kolache on my drive back to Houston!

* TM

Catching up...one movie at a time

(Belated) Review of TRANSSIBERIAN below:

But first! I found it amusing during Sunday night's dreadful Emmy Awards telecast that the two actors I called out in a previous post for being undeserving -- BOTH WON! (Dianne Wiest and Paul Giamatti). What was NOT amusing was the Emmy choice for Best Director of a Musical/Variety Program : the same guy who was the victim of my wrath in that same post -- Academy Award show director Louis J. Horvitz (bastard!) -- the man who has now ruined 2 awards shows in one year (because, purely coincidentally, he directed the G*d-awful Emmys!) He gave himself all the time in the world to accept, then later he cut-off the winning writer of the John Adams miniseries (someone who actually had something intelligent to say). Bastard!

Laura Linney gave the best acceptance speech of the night (thanking "the community organizers who formed this country" -- take THAT, Sarah Palin!!) My personal preference would have seen either Gabriel Byrne or Michael C. Hall and the lovely Christina Applegate win ... but the Emmy's exist to disappoint people who value quality television (Grey's Anatomy won one year, remember?)

Transsiberian

I fear my review comes too late to for you to see this exciting thriller in a theater, which is a shame, because it is clearly ONE OF THE BEST MOVIES OF THE YEAR!! Director Brad Anderson (of the shamefully-overlooked The Machinist) has crafted another mysterious and scary Hitchcockian world -- on a train, no less! -- lumbering across Siberian Russia with an international assortment of heroes and villains and a climax that is a touch more riveting (and gruesome!) than The Lady Vanishes (1938). Comparing Transs. to that classic is high praise from me: Anderson effectively updates the genre by showing the claustrophobia and discomfort of train travel that movies tend to smoothe over. The cast is excellent, top to bottom. I won't reveal the plot so you can be surprised by its ingenuity ... like me!

Emmy pics

The aforementioned Ms. Applegate:

I know I didn't mention Mary-Louise Parker this time (I don't even watch her show!) but you have to admit, she is a raven-haired beauty!

French double-feature

But first! ....

TWO MORE OBSERVATIONS about "THE DARK KNIGHT"

1. I never visualized Gotham City as looking like Chicago before -- it has always been New York City, only scarier. (I even thought that in "Batman Begins"). But Chicago it is this time, unmistakably.

2. Senator Patrick Leahy of Vermont is one tough old guy! (standing up to The Joker like that!)


Tell No One (2006)
The French have always had a knack for creating unsurpassed mystery/thrillers: foreboding visual style, impeccable acting, serious and thoughtful movies for adults. [But when you have the entire oeuvre of the prolific Georges Simenon to choose from, you already have a head start. He wrote the Maigret mysteries and the story that was turned into 1989's Monsieur Hire, for example.] The classic example of the genre is Les diaboliques (the 1955 version directed by Henri-Georges Clouzot and starring Simone Signoret, of course). That plot was so good not even Sharon Stone could ruin it!


Notable recent examples in the genre include "Under the Sand" (Sous les sable, 2000), "Red Lights" (2004, also based on a Simenon story) and L'homme du train (2002, with the great pairing of Jean Rochefort and pop icon Johnny Hallyday).

What the French have proved to me in the last two films I've seen is that they can even make gems out of material that is decidedly below par. Witness the previously-reviewed Roman de Gare, and now, Guillaume Canet's "Tell No One" -- even the title sounds better in French: Ne le dis à personne. [I refuse to include Francois Ozon's "Swimming Pool" in this category -- that ridiculous movie still makes me mad!]

The film has a great cast and compelling plot: a supposedly-dead wife begins sending emails to her husband seven years after her murder, and the police continue to suspect the husband in her death. The action and suspense is non-stop, I will admit. The actors, especially in the roles of the couple (Francois Cluzet and Marie-Josee Croze) and her father (Andre Dussollier in a triumphant return to the screen) are totally invested in this plot, and it shows in their performances. I wish they had something better to invest in: the plot takes them (and us) to places I just find preposterous. The movie trumpets the author of the source material: "Based on the best-selling novel by Harlan Coben." My reply: "Who is this hack Harlan Coben??"


La France (2007)
The French also have pioneered a decidedly different genre: the grim and depressing World War I movie. It is given a new twist in La France, courtesy of actor-turned-writer/director Serge Bozon, whose last film was in 2002. One could call him a 'Gallic triple-threat,' since he also wrote all the songs in the movie. Yes, I said 'songs,' for this is a grim and depressing (the French don't make any other kind) French WWI musical!!

"A Very Long Engagement" this is not!! For one thing, it does not feature Audrey Tatou as the long-suffering war bride who goes to look for her husband. That role is taken by the boyish, but still gamine-like Sylvie Testud (last seen in La Vie en Rose) as Camille. The movie follows her as she pretends to be a boy in order to get to the front, where she soon joins up with a ragtag company of French soldiers, under the command of a gruff but loveable lieutenant (Pascal Greggory). Whether they are advancing or retreating is one of the many questions left hanging, supplanted in your mind by 3 or 4 unexpected musical interludes, featuring the soldiers singing and playing homemade instruments. Bozon deliberately makes no attempt at verisimilitude here: the music, obviously coming from real instruments, is not of the period; the songs, while connected in theme, appear to have no relation to the plot. I interpret this device as a clue from the director that what we are witnessing should not be taken literally. (Another clue might be the readings and discussions about the lost city of Atlantis among the foot soldiers). Through a series of close calls, the men bond with Camille and become her guardian angels.

Regardless of how you interpret Bozon's intentions, he succeeds in bringing this story to a beautiful and satisfying conclusion that makes sense of everything you have seen.
* No spoilers here!

Sure, "The Umbrellas of Cherbourg" had an unusual tone for a musical, but it didn't take place on the front lines of World War I! Without a doubt, this is the most-depressing musical ever made. And that's a high recommendation indeed from moi!

BACK to the movies!

Enough with the travelogues, I've got movies to review!


The Dark Knight
I'm not damning it with faint praise to call TDK the best Batman movie ever made. No doubt director Christopher Nolan has turned this franchise into something much more than just a very good comic book adaptation (he proved that with Batman Begins). But here he has created an unsettling, exhilarating future of moral ambiguities, impossible choices, and damaged individuals. At the center of it all, of course, is the black hole of amorality that is Heath Ledger's Joker. He is so frightening because he doesn't believe in anything! It is a searing portrayal envelopes the movie the way both Daniel Day Lewis' Daniel Plainview and Javier Bardem's Anton Chigura did, to cite two recent (Academy award winning) examples. And yes, the late Heath Ledger should join their ranks in Febraury 2009, as Best Actor! (Don't try to ensure a win by promoting him as a 'supporting actor' Warner Brothers!)

Two more observations: After seeing the movie you will also understand why Katie Holmes took a powder on the sequel (Maggie Gyllenhaal got the most out of the role, but I would have liked to have seen what either of the other of the other two actresses up for the part would have done with it: Emily Blunt and Rachel McAdams, because let's face it, they are more in the Katie Holmes mold).


Brideshead Re-Revisited

To anyone old enough to remember the "original" classic, 11-part British ITV production (seen in the States on PBS in 1982), two questions immediately come to mind:

1) WHY?
2) Could anyone in the cast possibly live up to -- let alone surpass -- the original actors??

After sitting through Julian Jarrold's 133-minute adaptation at the River Oaks theater, I still have no anwser to the first question. The second answer has a somewhat more satisfactory answer. First, the pace feels like a Cliff Notes version of Evelyn Waugh's story: Oxford, then Brideshead, Venice, back to Oxford, Morocco, back to Brideshead, etc. etc. If you didn't know better, you'd swear they had high-speed rail in the 1920s. Sure, all your favorite characters make an appearance (Bridey, Cordelia, boorish American Rex Mottram), but all of the nuances and small pleasures of the book are lost. My favorite line, for instance, didn't make the cut:
Julia: "Oh Bridey, don't be so Jesuitical." (I love that line!)

What is shocking is what little impact many of the actors have in their respective roles: Matthew Goode (as Charles Ryder) is little more than a cypher -- vaguely resembling a young Jeremy Irons is not a qualification for starring in a movie! Emma Thompson fares little better: no, she does not get the screen time that Claire Bloom had to fully-develop her character, but in the scenes she does have she does not acquit herself well (at all). Bad director, maybe? And the guy who tries to compete with the great John Gielgud as Ryder's memorably wacky father? His performance simply falls flat.

What does work? Not surprisingly, Ben Whishaw is an effective Sebastian (he played Bob Dylan, after all!) But the only true improvement is the actress who plays Julia Flyte. Hayley Atwell brings all the youthful insecurity, guilt and confusion to her character that I seem to recall the original actress (Diana Quick) masked with a cool British veneer, until the very end.

The second greatest performance in the film actually makes a repeat performance: the grande dame Castle Howard reprises its role as Brideshead. And the Yorkshire mansion hasn't aged a bit!

Full disclosure: been there!

Upcoming reviews:
Tell No One (France)

La France (France (naturally) 2007)

Heads-up for Houston film lovers:
Aurora Picture Show outdoors!
Saturday, August 23, 8PM
Menil Park, 1515 Sul Ross
FREE Admission In collaboration with The Menil Collection, Aurora presents a selection of early 20th-century short films directed by artists like Fernand Léger, Rene Clair and Hans Richter.
"Bring your blanket, picnic, and your avant garde-loving dog!"

9 Things I Love About New Mexico ... and one, not so much

August 4, 2008 --

I have just returned from another trip, this time to attend my High School Reunion in Pampa, Texas (allow me a shout-out to my peeps: We're the Class that's really great!).

But first I spent 3 glorious days in Santa Fe, New Mexico, and from the moment I crossed the State line, I knew it would be an 'awesome' trip...for the following reasons (I threw in one movie reference at the very end to keep this post legit):

# 9. 75 mile-per-hour Speed Limit -- gotta love that.

# 8. Those cool yellow license plates (the new ones are even better: they've added a burnt orange balloon!)

# 7. Coyotes (the furry, 4-legged ones, not the ones smuggling immigrants over the border). One crossed my path while I was searching for a gas station off the highway.

# 6. Two Margaritas in high-altitude Santa Fe are the equivalent of 3-1/2 margaritas at sea level! (that made those $8.75 'Silver Coin' margaritas at The Shed taste even better!)

# 5. At the Santa Fe Opera, even the coffee is good (and cheaper than water!) [More about this experience later.]

# 4. Sharing a breakfast table on my B&B's patio with a cute blonde Aussie named Amanda. [Note to self: plan upcoming post entitled "10 Things I Love About Australia" #1: Naomi Watts.]

# 3. Chatting with the Brooklyn-born owner of an upscale Italian restaurant a block from my B&B. How upscale? It bills itself as a "fragrance-free restaurant" -- you are literally denied admittance if you are wearing perfume or cologne! That, and the $16./glass of Montepulciano make it 'upscale' in my book. It was here where I also met and chatted with....

# 2. ... a real live Opera Star! You might not have heard of Gwynne Howell, a 70-year old Welsh bass-baritone, but he has been on the stage for decades, and I first heard him in Houston in the production of Benjamin Britten's Billy Budd (I saw a different production of Billy Budd in Santa Fe). He and his wife could not have been nicer when I interrupted their dessert to gush. (The waiter tipped me off, but I had to figure out which character he played). He was doing Figaro in Santa Fe. It makes me wish I could have gone out more and run into the Number One Thing I Love About NM.....

# 1. Deborah Domanski's bare midriff! (She would necessarily be attached to it if I ran into it).

Like me, you may never have heard of this young mezzo soprano, but when she made her first appearance in last Friday's production of Handel's rarely-performed Radamisto at the SF Opera, I knew my vacation -- and the fourth-row seat I bought two weeks before -- had been well worth it. I can best describe her as the opera world's version of Mary-Louise Parker. The outlandish, Turkish-inspired costumes in this production not only accentuated her lithe waist, it made it a featured performer! [A rare pleasure in opera, if you're familiar with the average weight of opera singers.]

Now that Anna Netrebko went and got herself pregnant, Deborah D. possesses, hands down, the finest waist in all of Opera!!

But don't take my word for it: read what this dude had to say about her: “The lovely mezzo-soprano Deborah Domanski (replacing Christine Rice, who withdrew from the production because of illness) sings the courageous Zenobia with luscious sound and lyrical refinement.” – Anthony Tommasini, New York Times

If you still think I'm exaggerating, check out these photos:

And the one thing I didn't like so much about NM ...

I knew checking into the Silver Saddle Motel for my last night in town -- across the street from Santa Fe's only strip club (the prosaically-named 'Cheeks') -- was going to be an adventure, but the lobby had a signed picture from Clint Eastwood (circa Spaghetti Western Clint) so how bad could it be? What I did not expect was my 3am wake-up call to be the sound of breaking glass and some woman shouting every Spanish curse word I know (and some I probably don't) at her male companion (john?) who threw her out of his room. All I could do was pray the sound wasn't coming from my rental car parked outside. The next morning I surveyed the damage: every window on this poor guy's Pontiac Grand Prix was completely smashed-in, and it was parked two spots away from mine!

Yikes.

I'll leave you with a more pleasant memory:

Now do you understand why I love opera??

Thoughts about the Emmy Nominations

July 17, 2007 --

Allow me a brief departure from movies to talk about the 'lesser' arts ... with all the movie stars doing TV now, the Emmy nominations are starting to read like the Oscars! (Glenn Close, Holly Hunter, Laura Linney, Laura Dern -- a lock for Recount).

Before I take the TV Academy to task, a few overall comments:

Basic cable / premium cable...now that I'm on the dish, it doesn't make a bit of difference to me! I'm just glad these smaller shows are getting recognized. [I'm speaking specifically about Dexter ... I haven't seen Mad Men or Damages--because who watches AMC or FX, really?!?]

And I'm sure '30 Rock' has a devoted following, but -- 17 nominations?? Really?? Is is that better than 'The Office'? Or rather, since 17 nominations is more than ANY comedy series has ever received, is 30 Rock that better than Seinfeld-Cheers-Frasier-Mary Tyler Moore?? It is not because it has no competition this year, either!

I keep telling myself not to take the Emmy's seriously -- why bother getting excited, when you already know that James Spader, William Shatner (Boston Legal) and Tony Shalhoub (Monk) will win, AGAIN!?! [How can people vote for a show no one watches? (see, Monk).] The Amazing Race is a lock, too -- can you say "Over-rated?" Here is a synopsis of every episode in every season of The Race: Contestant (loudly, to Third World cabbie): "I'm an Ugly American, and we have to get to the Airport FAST!!" Quality television.

On to my quibbles --

In Treatment: my favorite show of the new season did get the most important recognition, for Gabriel Byrne's brilliant lead performance as Paul. But no Best Drama Series, and none of the patients were recognized, which is nothing short of a travesty considering the riveting performances by Aussie hottie Melissa George (Laura/Monday--last seen in Alias), Aussie teen Mia Wasikowska (Sophie/Wednesday), and Blair Underwood (Alex/Tuesday--the best work of his career!) Yet they DID recognize the only cast member who looked totally uncomfortable with the concept of the series -- Dianne Weist.

John Adams: I am sure it is deserving of its 22 nominations (I couldn't commit to it); the problem is that it received 23: Best Actor for Paul Giamatti, who by all accounts was as uncomfortable in the role as Dianne Weist!!

Dexter: Didn't get enough! How about some props for the supporting cast, or at least Best Casting of a Series (from which In Treatment was also snubbed).

What can you expect from an institution that has created a separate category called "Outstanding Special Class Program--Awards Programs." Here is an awards show that gives an award to other awards shows! Not only that, you know the Musical Director a**-hole who cuts off the Oscar winners during their acceptance speeches? He gets a nomination EVERY YEAR! No shame. It's as lame as the "Best Commercial" category.

The re-birth of Norwegian Cinema!

I know that headline sent chills through your spine ... although rebirth may be the wrong word here: while Scandinavian cinema has been relevant since Carl Th. Dreyer first picked up a silent movie camera, movies from Norway have been strictly relegated to the film festival circuit. Overshadowed in the last several decades by the very dark shadow of Ingmar Bergman, I can only remember a handful of movies from Norway that I've seen -- beginning with 1987's The Pathfinder (notable for being the first movie in the Sami language), the dreadful The Ice Palace (the longest 78 minutes of my life, and one of many mistakes I made at the Houston Film Festival), and the sweet, nostalgic Herman from 1991 (also at the Houston Film Festival). All three were Norway's official entry in the Academy Awards; all three were passed over by the Oscar nominating committee).*

In the last twenty years, Denmark has dominated international screens again (starting with Lars von Trier's Zentropa through last year's After the Wedding), notwithstanding Bergman's unfailing talent (his last, Sarabande, being equal to his great works of the Seventies), and with occasional entries from Finland (mostly by Aki Kaurismaki). (The films of the fifth Scandinavian country, Iceland, are even more hard to find--anybody see '101 Reykjavik'? -- so they haven't had a chance to establish an identity).

But when was the last film from Norway to make a splash? The only two I can recall getting a U.S. release were 1996's Hamsun (starring Max von Sydow) and 1997's Insomnia (starring Stellan Skarsgaard, effectively remade in English with Al Pacino and Hillary Swank--the first case in history of an American remake being superior to the European original!).

Until now, that is, when an edgy, youthful film has gotten some well-deserved attention over here -- appropriately titled "Reprise," because it is very much a return to the themes that first drew American audiences to European films in the heyday of the Sixties: the slow, painful growth of young people into adulthood. These are the difficulties faced by the two nascent writers Philip & Erik in Olso, as envisioned by director Joachim Trier.

Aside from their literary ambitions, these two are indistinguishable from the Glaswegian layabouts in "Trainspotting," the Berlin ne'er do wells in "The Edukators," or most directly, the three delinquents in Godard's classic "Band a Part" (three films this one calls to mind in both subject matter and kinetic visual style). True, Philip & Erik are more law-abiding than the characters in those movies, but judging from the places and people they hang with, you wonder how and where they ever got their intellectual stimulation to become writers. But writing is the thing that binds these two together through Phillip's mental breakdown (poetically realized early in the movie in flashback with a few wordless but telling scenes). The tension between the three protagonists (including Philip's girlfriend, beautifully played by Viktoria Winge) as they inevitably grow apart as one becomes a serious writer and the other doesn't, is uncomfortably real. What's the future for this Norwegian gem from 2006? Well, it was the country's official entry in the Best Foreign Film category of the Oscars ... and it didn't make the cut. Better luck next time, Norway.

* The Academy's many oversights may be a thing of the past, thanks to a key rule change for 2009. We can only hope.

"Twice" ... and more Music links

RADIO CITY MUSIC HALL, Monday, May 19, 2008:

What can I say? This was an even-better show than last year's outdoor concert at Stubb's in Austin! It is quite an event playing Radio City, and Glen and his mates rose to the occasion, playing a two-hour, 10-minute set, with a 5-song encore.

The very-first song let everyone know it was going to be a special night: Glen walked out on stage alone with his beat-up guitar and sang 'Say it to me now' at the top of his voice -- away from the microphone. A few people even yelled "we can't hear!" before realizing he did this deliberately, like he was performing on a street corner (get it?). They ended the show by bringing out his opening act--the guy in the movie who sang at the dinner party -- to sing his song from the soundtrack, 'Gold.'


Here is what they sang in between:

2. Lies
3. This Low
4. The Moon
5. When Your Mind's Made Up
6. True*
7. On My Mind*
8. Falling Slowly
9. Leave (solo)
10. What Happens When the Heart Just Stops*--I'm paraphrasing
11. a Van Morrison cover
12. ???
13. then Marketa asks her sister to come up on stage for a duet of a song from the 1973 movie The Wicker Man, "Gently, Johnny."
14. the obligatory "Hoover Fixer-Upper Guy"
15. Happiness*
16. Once

Encores:
1. If You Want Me
2. Gold
3. Fitzcarraldo
4. Star, Star
5. and finally, they closed with an audience sing-along of Van Morrison's "Into the Mystic." (He always knows how to end a concert on a high).

>Have I had my fill of the 'Once' phenomenon now?? I just this week purchased my one-day ticket to September's Austin City Limits Music Festival, headlined by The Swell Season. Let that be your answer! (Whether you've had your fill reading about them is another question entirely ... the answer to which the foreignfilmguy has no interest in hearing).

More Music Links!

>>Two more female singer/songwriters to promote.<<

KATHLEEN EDWARDS -- truthfully, I'm more into her than her music (alt-country in a voice reminiscent of Iris DeMent), but she loves Austin and cats, and has an entertaining blog ... and she's another red-headed Canadian!! (see Sarah Harmer; Melissa auf der Mar).


(she's got that Cate Blanchett-look working for her, doesn't she??)

EDIE CAREY -- she came all the way from New England to Houston to perform at the very first 'house concert' I've ever attended, so of course I bought her cd. And she started her second set by asking: "Has anyone seen the movie Once?" before launching into "Falling Slowly."

Best Vacation ... EVER !?!

NEW YORK CITY -- May 15th - 23rd:

I wanted to post my second 'on the road' post from the Big Apple (following my Austin post last November), but I was on the go all the time, and had no free time to blog. It was a special vacation from the start, because I was attending a significant moment in Palmer family history, but the best moments of my New York adventure were, as always, completely serendipitous. (For example: I got a ticket to Yankee stadium FOR FREE! I didn't have to pay for my ticket! How sweet is that for a Yankees-hater like me?!)

Coincidentally, what motivates me to blog is the same reason that my Austin trip motivated me: an upcoming concert by the stars of the hit movie "Once" -- Glen Hansard & Marketa Irglova -- not at Stubb's Barbecue this time, but at an equally legendary music venue: RADIO CITY MUSIC HALL!! That memorable concert deserves a separate post, so stay tuned for my recap, entitled "Twice" -- also a good name for the sequel. Copyright!

The trip's vibe can be summed-up in the chance encounter I had at O'Neal's restaurant (across from Lincoln Center) after leaving my box seat to ABT's matinee performance of Le Corsaire (starring the lovely redhead Julie Kent): I had a wonderful conversation with two intelligent, attractive New Yorkers sitting at the bar, one of whom was a dead ringer for the lovely actress Cate Blanchett! (I kid you not!) Lou, if you are reading this, I am not talking about you!! Only in New York.

In keeping with the theme of this blog, the rest of my travelogue is entirely movie-related:

>First stop (The Dakota--72nd & CPW): I have never bothered to seek out this historic site on previous visits, but as I was wandering from Lincoln Center to Central Park, I noticed some German tourists snapping pictures of a doorman, and sure enough, it was the same entrance that will soon be seen on movie screens everywhere -- in the John Lennon movie. I walked across the street to the 'Imagine' mosaic in Central Park next, where two guys with guitars were playing "Love Me Do" (poorly, I might add). It made me think: how many times has this scene played out on this spot over the last quarter-century?

>Second stop (the Lake in Central Park): As I rambled through the Park, I noticed more and more activity as I approached the lake with the canoes , and before I knew it, I had stumbled onto a movie set! My first indication that it was a major motion picture was hearing the lady sitting next to me at the fountain exclaim: "I'm sorry, but Anjelica Huston is FAT!" (I immediately started looking around, and there in black, lounging on a director's chair with the words "When in Rome" on the back, was Anjelica Huston herself, looking sophisticated in black, and weight-appropriate for her age). This lady went on to say: "That's what happens when you go through menopause," eliciting a response from her friend: "Oh, I'm not there, yet." Reply: "Oh, I am!"

Then a lady who was on the set -- an aging, obviously-dyed redhead with a face so stretched and pulled by multiple surgeries I can only describe her visage as skeletal (she must be an agent or PR rep) -- walked over to my two companions and the first lady said, "Sylvia, I was just saying what wonderful husbands we have." Redheaded Joan Rivers: "Yes, we do have wonderful husbands." Me: "They would have to be, to put up with you two beasts!" (Maybe I just thought that). [I realize that if this lady turns out to be a big shot producer, I may never work as an extra in a movie again!!]

I hung around on the fringes for the next half-hour, made eye contact and waved at a Kate Beckinsale look-alike on the set. (I know it wasn't her because of the reaction I got: she immediately looked away without acknowledging me. The real Kate would never do that to her fans!)

This is how the real Kate Beckinsale would have reacted if she had seen me waving at her! (I'm sure of it!)

All this time I thought I was ogling the female lead, Kristen Bell (Star of Veronica Mars and Forgetting Sarah Marshall for those of you not in the know), in jeans, funky cap, and colorful tennis shoes. Then I noticed the filming had begun -- an outdoor cafe scene between Ms. Huston and Ms. Bell -- except Ms. Bell was already on set, hair in a bun and wearing a black coat! I must have been ogling her stand-in as she loaded up on fresh fruit from the craft services table. (I hope the real one appears somewhere in all the pictures I took). That's New York in a nutshell: it is overrun with so many beautiful women, they all could be famous!

When In Rome (2009) - In New York City, a young art curator finds herself aggressively pursued by a band of wannabe lovers after she steals coins from a Roman fountain. (Sounds good to me!) Check out this all-star cast, too: Josh Duhamel, Will Arnett, Jon Heder, Danny DeVito (him not so much).

and starring the lovely Veronica Mars herself!!

>Third stop (Greenwich or West Village)(I never know where one ends an the other begins): Two days later I was in "the Village" on a pilgrimage to the site where Adrienne Shelley tragically lost her life (15 Abingdon Square) when I walked into another movie shoot--with a loud director who sounded and slightly resembled Vince Vaughn -- filming a street corner scene with 3 hippies. Only it wasn't Vince Vaughn, just some wannabe director affecting his mannerisms. Only in New York.

A foreignfilmguy's dilemma

FRIDAY, MAY 9, 2006 --

Here is my dilemma: Houston is the latest stop in the revival tour of the most inscrutable French film from the Sixties (not directed by Godard) "Last Year at Marienbad" (France, 1961) -- in a 35mm Cinemascope print! I have never seen this classic conundrum of a film, directed by the great Alain Resnais. The trouble is, I'm leaving on a 10-day vacation on the Thursday before the second of three consecutive Friday screenings, so I can only go to the May 9th showing.

May 9th also happens to be my last chance to see Houston Grand Opera's production of Benjamin Britten's Billy Budd, the first of HGO's multi-year retrospective of Britten's work. I have a new appreciation for Britten's operas after listening to several performances of the Met's recent production of Peter Grimes on SIRIUS, plus I'm a sucker for a good seafaring yarn.

Two must-see productions: one night. What's a foreignfilmguy to do????

The answer will surprise you.

Against all expectations (for the subject of this blog, anyway) I went to the opera. That's why this post ends here. [I've waited this long ... I can always catch Marienbad at another art house venue in the future.]

My First Foreign Film of 2008!

In spite of my new year's resolution, I made an obligatory appearance (on the last day) of WorldFest Houston, exiled as it is to the strip-mall Hell of West Houston, to see the 1982 Italian Classic "La Notte di San Lorenzo" (released in the U.S. with the more romantic title "The Night of the Shooting Stars.")

Whatever you call it, it is a masterpiece that stands the test of time. Told from the perspective of an eight-year old girl, think "Pan's Labyrinth" without the scary monsters...and with Italian Fascists in place of their more sadistic Spanish counterparts. [It would be interesting to compare the post-war cinematic treatment of each European country's own Fascist brethren: for the Tavianis, the blackshirts retain a scrap of humanity: the movie stops long enough to show a father's grief over his dead son, and, in a surreal pause in the climactic battle in a wheatfield, two peasants from the same region share a moment of recognition before shooting at each other.]

As my post title suggests, I am here to review a *new* foreign film, the Closing Night entry by Frenchman Claude ("A Man and a Woman") Lelouch: Roman de Gare (2007). A stellar cast (headed by Fanny Ardant, last seen on these shores as the more attractive half of a bickering couple in "Paris, je t'aime"), intriguing premise, expertly filmed -- but I risk damning it with faint praise by comparing it to, and declaring it better than, a similarly-themed French literary mystery: Francois Ozon's "Swimming Pool" (which I hated). Both involve successful female novelists working on their next book in France. Both tease and confound audience expectations. But RdG doesn't play its audience for a FOOL by pulling the rug out from under it at the end of its 90-minute investment in the story, like a certain other movie did (I'm still bitter).

Instead, the audience is rewarded for its investment in this progressively unbelievable scenario by its mostly-believable characters, especially the character portrayed by French newcomer Audrey Dana. The Cesar-nominated Audrey Dana (for best breakthrough performance). As you can see, she is not a raven-haired gamine like Audrey Tatou, but more of a vulnerable, romantic blonde like Sandrine Kiberlain. I cannot wait for her next film.

The movie does unravel in its second half, and by its conclusion, you are painfully aware that this is the director who cannot stop remaking the hopelessly romantic (and ultimately empty) Un homme et une femme (that was 1966, Claude! Give it up!).

**** SPOILER ALERT *****

*

*

*

*

*

*

The ending sucks.

An UPDATE to my Updated Music Links

Shelby Lynne

"Pure, musical Viagra"

The great thing about the category-defying singer Shelby Lynne is that her sexuality crosses all sexual orientation boundaries...judging by the audience at her most-recent Houston appearance, anyway. (Finally, someone besides David Sedaris to bring us all together!) Her latest album- "Just A Little Lovin' (inspired by Dusty Springfield)" - she released on vinyl! How cool is that? [I was never a Dusty Springfield fan, and I assume my readers weren't, either.]

If you haven't seen her live, you just haven't lived! (I'm sorry, but you haven't).

Random thoughts in 2008

Heath Ledger - R.I.P.

It takes a special person to get a special "In Memoriam" on this blog, but the tragic, accidental death of Heath Ledger last January in a Greenwich Village apartment merits a special mention. After a long deliberation, I am ready to concede that he gave the BEST PERFORMANCE in all of 2005 as Ennis del Mar in "Brokeback Mountain" (sorry, Joaquin, Phillip Seymour, and Terrence). Suprisingly, after all the acclaim he received, he only won ONE acting award for it: the Australian Film Institute's Best Male Actor in an International Film. Way to go, AFI!!

Now all we have left to look forward to is his last performance in this summer's Batman blockbuster, "The Dark Knight."

Another thing I hated about "I'm Not There"

I've been listening to a great collection of songs from the soundtrack to Curtis Hanson's under-appreciated "Wonder Boys" on my way to work, and I keep skipping tracks to listen to the 4 separate Bob Dylan songs in a row: "Things Have Changed," "Shooting Star," "Not Dark Yet" and "Buckets of Rain"(the most of any artist on the compilation cd). I do give credit to Todd Haynes for piquing my interest in the enigma that is "BOB DYLAN". (The movie did not edify me in any way, it just made me more curious). That's why I am doubly-mad at Haynes for giving the shortest-shrift to one of the most-fascinating periods in Dylan's life: folkie Dylan!

Instead, Mr. "I'm so Original nobody gets me" Haynes falls back on a hackneyed story-telling device to dramatize that period: a mockumentary! [a gimmick whose time has come, and thankfully gone.] An ineffective pseudo-doc at that: a cross between This Is Spinal Tap (without the laughs) and a typical VH-1 Behind the Music episode. Haynes never bothers to dramatize any moment in Dylan's life from that period. What a wasted opportunity, not to mention a waste of great acting talent (Christian Bale as Dylan and Julianne Moore, reducing her to a talking head). Say what you will about the awkward scenes in 2006's "Factory Girl" between Dylan (played as a laughable impersonation by a way-out-of-his-depth Hayden Christiansen) & Edie Sedgwick (Sienna Miller, so spot-on it is creepy!), at least they made the effort to play it straight.

Soon to be seen in "The Mysteries of Pittsburgh" (by the author of "Wonder Boys")

30-second review of "Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day"

Fans of Masterpiece Theatre will be in heaven watching "MPLFAD" (don't make me cut-n-paste that title). And why not? It is a lively British romp in the spirit of those 1920s comedies the Brits do so well. It has all the requisite elements: good soundtrack, nice costumes, fast pacing, and Ciarán Hinds ("Rome") and Shirley Henderson ("Topsy-Turvy") to give it its British bona fides. I half-expected Bertie Wooster to pop-in (without the limp, 3-day growth of beard, and bad attitude, of course).

The two American actresses in the leads -- Frances McDormand and Amy Adams -- not only hold their own, but give utterly convincing performances (parts that Angela Lansbury and Judy Holliday, respectively, would have slipped-into effortlessly in an earlier era) carry the film to its satisfying conclusion. Not even Masterpiece Theatre has been this good since Jeeves & Wooster last shared a cocktail and a bon mot.

The lovely Miss Amy Adams