Giants, Cowboys and Hitler, oh my!

Not that this has much to do about anything, but being a Giants fan, I found this incredibly funny. Have a look.

http://youtube.com/watch?v=K2triiYXSY8

While you are reading this, a monster is attacking the City

Review: Cloverfield

It started in the summer. I was sitting in the theatre waiting to watch a little movie. You may have heard of it. It was called Transformers. I was giddy as a school boy cause I was about to relive my childhood where Optimus Prime would transform from a Mack truck into the battle-ready, Megatron-kicking leader of the Autobots. I could barely contain myself. As the lights dimmed I prepared for the two hour plus ass kicking of giants robots blowing shit up.

I had no idea what I was in for.

As crappy Coke commercials gave way to actually trailers (remember the days when there weren’t commercials in front of movies? Those days I sorely miss.) I had no idea what lay ahead. Up popped what looked like some lo-fi inde film about some youngsters sending off their friend to Japan or something. This was an odd choice to start with I thought to myself, but I totally dug it. Then, the power went out. And everyone in the theatre was like “wtf mate?” Very soon these same 20-somethings were rushing to the rooftop with their videocam POV.

And then a building exploded. The audience literally flipped.

As the hipsters ran down the stairs and out the building, whispers rushed along the crowd. What the hell were we watching? As we moved to the streets, there was an explosion in the distance. Then the statue of liberty head landed in the middle of the street.

The audience flipped.
I turned to my friend. If this was the new Godzillia, I was sooooo there. The words flashed on the screen.
From producer J.J. Abrams.
The Lost guy?
01-18-08.
And then black. No title.
Nothing.

My mind was racing. What had I just seen? I wanted to know. A monster movie from a found-footage POV interested the hell out of me. It was so good; it made me forget that I was about to see Transformers. Giant fucking robots blowing shit up! I forgot I was going to see my childhood on the screen.

This was my first experience with the marketing phenomenon known as Cloverfield.

On the drive home, it wasn’t Optimus Prime and Bumblebee we were talking about it, it was what was that no named movie. I said anything by the creator of Lost and Alias is worth a look to me. We made a pact we see it as soon as it came out.

I went home, hopped on yea old internet and discovered that it wasn’t directed by J.J only produced, this guy named Matt Reeves was in the chair. And it was written by Drew Goddard, who I knew from Lost, and that was good in my book.

Friends thought I was crazy. Blairwitch Godzillia? Come on! But I maintained that if it was executed with half of the intelligence as that trailer, I would be set. In my heart I’m as down for a good monster movie as I am two people having deep conversations over coffee.

So fast forward to opening weekend, I’m in a packed theatre about to see this film. Does it work?

Oh yes it does! Cloverfield carries its gimmick through all the way. What we are supposedly watching is footage from a camera found in what was once Central Park. Reeves and Goddard get around the narrative conceits in some truly nice ways.

The first twenty minutes play out like an extended version of the trailer, as we get to know our cast at this farewell party. But once the power goes out we very quickly start coming down the other side of the rollercoaster.

One of the many smart things the film does is make the “camera man” Hud, a true character in the piece even though he is rarely glimpsed on screen. It is literally Hud’s eyes through which we watch this film and his quips and insight ground the outrageous situation. Now yes, there are times when Hud films when no one else would. He also proves to be remarkably steady in a key juncture in the film, a situation where you’d expect him to be anything but, and he’s steady as a rock. And they magically find a riff in the space time subway continuum that allows them to take a 6 train and end up in Columbus Circle. Do I care? Not in the least. If this was reality a monster wouldn’t be attacking the City. This is a semblance of reality. The one scene that really hit home was just after the Statue of Liberty head gets thrown into the streets we see people taking pictures of it with their cellphones. Let me tell you. I was in the city when the steampipe exploded back in the summer, and people were doing the same thing. I know. I was one of them. That little tidbit is so inherently "real." I love it. If something like this attacked New York, this is what it would look like.

Now some have cried foul about the 9/11-ish imagery of the film. And yes, it does help solidify the thisisreallyhappening feeling. Some feel that this is disrespectful and abusive. Well as a New Yorker, I for one, do not. It’s been a while since the attacks, and with no disrespect for the families, Cloverfield never uses the evocative imagery to pull your heartstrings.

Cloverfield is complete escapism. And smart one at that. I mean other than the utterly dumb device of trying to save a friend who’s in the middle of the monsters warpath, it completely clicks for me. And honestly, in the right mindset, I might be crazy enough to attempt that rescue myself. The love story works for me. Tons of men have done crazy things for love. Sometimes, to quote Good Will Hunting, you just "have to go see about a girl.” Just maybe not when a creature is destroying midtown and spider things from Starship Troopers are running amok(sidenote, Phil Tippet the man who made dinosaurs walk the earth in Jurrasic Park & insects crawl in Troopers had a hand in this. So its appropriate.) But really people, if they just turn tail and ran, there would be no movie. It would be a half hour film. Its already Seventy minutes (eat that!) how much shorter do you want it to be?

So do you see the monster? Well, yes and no, you get enough to get you worried, and then feel it throughout the rest. Not to worry, they give you the money shot. Boy do they ever. The effects work on this film is great, keeping it jiving with the insane world we are watching.

I’ve also heard people nitpick the characters. Or as some have put it, the lack there of. People, I don’t know about you, but I came to see a monster movie, not Squid and the Whale (which I love, but for example sake) okay? Lets see here. What’s on the movie monster checklist? Monster? Check. Scares? Check. People to fight and escape the monster? Check. Army? Check. Explosions? Check. Where did I lose you? The leads are flushed out enough in the exposition heavy opener to get you to feel enough for them. I know all I need to know. Many have griped that they are following “a bunch of white pretty rich kids.” Well, I don’t know about you, but I can’t exactly afford to live in the middle of Manhattan. But you know who can? Rich, pretty white kids. And Woody Allen. Don’t turn this into revenge on the yuppies; Its not.

Cloverfield is a film you either dig it or you don’t. Me, I dig it. I think it’s the best kind of thrill ride, short, smart and sweet. It’s exactly what it should be and knows when to end. Great job by all involved. It deserves all the money its making and more. This a true theatre movie, to be seen big, loud, and with as many people as possible. This type of film is the reason going to the cinema is an event, an experience. And oh you should savor this larger than life. Count this as my first favorite film of the year. It’s sure to be a cult hit for years to come. I really loved it, but then again, there was no doubt.

They had me at Transformers.

In My Headphones: Vietnam, fishing trips, Italian Opera

Review: Cold War Kids-“Robbers & Cowards”



It was over the summer. I was sitting downstairs in my best friend’s bedroom shooting the shit. He had some low music playing off his laptop. A song that I would later know as “St. Johns” came on. I literally stopped mid-sentence, pointed to the computer and asked “Who is this? And why haven’t I been listening to them?” My friend grinned.

This was my introduction to the awesomely named Cold War Kids.

Their LP, Robbers & Cowards is a collection of songs from the various EP’s they have put out and rerecorded for this awesome studio album. How do I describe the their style? Well, they’re an indie bluesy soul rock band that has hints of folk and gospel combined with a junkyard band. That’s right, a junkyard band. There are times during this CD where the various shakers, rattles and other divergent sounds are as if they picked up something in the street, heard it had an awesome sound and worked it into the song. All this is combined with some awesome off beat drumming and backed by a lively piano that equals a force of a band having discovered the magic of music, having fun and loving every minute of it. I love the sound on the CD, I heard it was sight to behold live (note they are one of the many bands I am actively awaiting shows for.)

The Cold War Kids also have some amazingly catchy and meaningful lyrics. Lead vocalist Nathan Willett doesn’t sing about young love and heartbreak like most the bands you know. In fact most of the songs are very storyteller based. Songs Such as “We Need a Vacation” speak of alcoholic fathers who miss graduations and slowly tear their families apart. They talk about divorce and the shame anger and viciousness that come where once sweet laughter filled a household in “Hair Down.” The aforementioned “St. John” tells the tale of a guy on death row for accidentally killing one of a group of kids who were attempting to rape his sister. Most powerful of all in “Hospital Beds” they show the casualties of war, about making friends with people you would never choose to; the injured who merely lay next to you. However these meaty tales aren’t drowned into our ears. These songs are delivered with a verve that is addictive. You’ll find yourself rocking to the tunes while screaming their catchy lyrics.

The Cold War Kids deliver thoughtful, storied poetry for your ears with zestful instrumentation. They throw enough change ups for you to always keep it interesting, and know when to repeat their mantras like “Vietnam, fishing trips, Italian Opera” on “Hospital Beds” the zenith of the album.

The album has been out for a while now, but it deserves to be checked out. It’s very rare to find a sound that is refreshing and simply this good. They went back into the studios in December. I can’t wait to hear the next album.

Bookmarked: No one belongs here more than you

***Bookmarked will feature literature that I want to spotlight both old and current***


I was first introduced to writer/director Miranda July through her awesome quirky little indie film called Me and You and Everyone We Know. That filmed bowled me over with how much love it had for its characters. Not that all the characters were lovable, but like the work of Raymond Carver, you could tell the creator cared about them. July worked her way to the forefront of the film circuit with various short film work. One in particular Are You the Favorite Person of Anybody?(which she wrote/starred in but did not direct) features John C. Riley as a pollster. I love that one. You can find it here.

July takes her skills as a short filmmaker and brings it to literature with her first novel, a collection of short stories called No one belongs here more than you. The book complies various shorts that she’s had published over the years, with some new ones thrown in for good measure. The collection features 16 stories all pertaining in there own way to the nature of love.

I am a huge fan of the short story format. Short stories (much like short films) are an art form onto themselves, mimicking conventional narrative while breaking all the rules. In shorts I find subtly comes much more into play due to the size restraint. This is not an exhaustive novel, it’s a place where what is not said holds as much power, and often more, as what is.

July brings here trademark skew to these various tales, especially early ones with The Swim Team, of a young woman who teaches a group of old folks how to swim in a small town without a pool by simulating swimming by putting their heads into buckets of water. Odd as that may sound, July writes all her characters with conviction, making even their creepiest imperfections palpable. In The Shared Patio she makes a woman’s need for affection so desperate that we cheer when she achieves it with her unconscious neighbor who has had an epileptic seizure in front of her. Trust me, as off putting as that sounds, it reads much better.

The collection also seems to grow as you move forward, and improve with each passing short. The standout by far is Something That Needs Nothing which features the not quite platonic love affair between two long time female friends who room in Portland. Another is I Kiss a Door about a female Rockstar’s creative flame and her relationship with her father. Also potent is the final installment How to Tell Stories to Children, of a woman that never had children but is godmother to a young girl. The story spins a beautiful relationship between the young child and her surrogate mom and is filled with the happiness and melancholy of having your little one grow up before your eyes.

Be warned though, all the shorts are frankly sexual, sometimes even to discomfort. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I was just a little stun by it. July taps into some universal feelings on the nature of love, grounding even her most outlandish settings. There’s a longing that lives within the hearts of all her characters, one they will go to great lengths to fill, sometimes with disappointment. And it is in those longing hearts that we discover something truly wonderful.

The Dichotomy of Juno

Review: Juno

Sigh. Well a lot has been said about Juno. Critics praise it, fans embracing it. Tons of light has been thrust upon it, and not without good reason. I’ve read many reviews that hail it as “the best movie of the year.” Eighteen to be exact. That’s right. I’ve counted. And with it sweeping up Oscar nods (among them Jason Reitman best director, Ellen Page best actress, and Best Picture) the people behind this 2.5 Million budgeted, over 80 million grossing little gem must be sitting on cloud nine. So right about now is the time (according to my watch) is where the detractors come in. Now before you boo me off the stage, lets get some things straight.

I really enjoyed it. It has some honest to God genuine heart. Which is a blessing in this day in age. Cause as you read this multiplexes are filling up with the likes of 10,000 B.C. (minus Raquel Welch and plus Hal Emerich, so talk about a bad trade) and other dreck. Maybe that’s why so many critics cling to it. If I had to sit through a billion Norbits a year, Juno most certainly would be like finding water in the desert. I’d probably hail it as the second coming. But it’s not. Its just a sweet movie, about a really sarcastic girl who, gets pregnant and decides to have this baby, but give it to the chick form Alias who’s married to the guy from arrested development, and along the way she has some very funny and heart wrenching encounters. Oh and J Jonah Jameson and the CJ form the West Wing are her parents. And it has a totally “indie” soundtrack, most of the songs I already had on my Ipod. And, and…. This should be my movie! This is my bread and butter, people! I should drink this up like Daniel Plainview drinks milkshakes. As a close friend said when I asked him if he had seen Juno, “You mean the movie that’s going to be my favorite movie of the year?” Well it wasn’t his favorite (he feels very much the same way about it that I do) he didn’t love it. And neither did I. And like a scorn lover, I think I kinda resent it for it. I’ve seen it twice now, once by myself, and the second with friends. And I thought the same thing twice:

Man, nineteen year old me would have loved this movie.

But I’m not nineteen anymore, I’m twenty-four. And maybe growing up is hard to do (or is that breaking up?) but I can’t get passed this feeling, that my affection isn’t quite pure for it.

When people look back at 2007 in cinematic terms, I think they will say two things. One, it was the year of the Western (or the varied return there of: Jesse James, No Country, There Will be Blood, and the criminally overlooked 3:10 to Yuma) Second; it was the year of the abortion movies. Or should I say, not abortion movies. Knocked Up, Waitress, and Juno form the trifecta of girls who are going to see this thing through, and man we should laugh at it, and sometimes get misty. On the opposite end of that spectrum is 4 Months, 3 Weeks, and 2 Days which is about a college girl and her roommate actually going to get an abortion behind the iron curtain. Leave it to the foreigners to confront you with dramatic, hard-hitting realism. Over here in America though (where no one will see 4 Months, which came out Jan 25th. Find your local art-houses), we like our non-abortion fantasies. In these worlds, Seth Rogen gets Katherine Heigl, and Michael Cera, Ellen Page. Bravo to those boys. Heigl has an excuse though; she was drunk. Ellen Page, despite this being her first time, apparently didn’t realize Bleaker didn’t have a rubber on. One assumes Juno thought he had one of those “dick skin” condoms Rogen talks about in Knocked Up. You know, the ones where you “hollow out a dick, and put it on.” Sidenote, I loved Knocked Up. I thought it was hilarious, and laughed thoroughly with my friends while watching it in the theatre. I never once tried to bash it for the things its detractors appall (its rampant misogynism) because I never took it for more then it was, a fantasy and a good time.

Juno is a fantasy too because, make no mistake, no sixteen year old girl is Ellen Page. I have a goddaughter who’s thirteen, and she can barely get half the pop culture references I throw around, let alone Juno. And she’s more likely to listen to Britney Spears than Iggy Pop. But then again she’s a real teenager and Juno, is most definitely not. Not even close. And she’s not a three dimensional character either. This is not to undermine the work of Page who deserves the praise, though not an Oscar. What she does is enthuse Juno’s slick slang chick with genuine emotion. I repeat again, genuine emotion. But genuine emotion does not a full form person make. But Page really does make the role her own, and kudos for her, she deserves it.

And I like Jason Reitman too. Thank You for Smoking was an awesome film. It had polish and was funny. This is that plus heart, and heart will always go the extra mile for you. Reitman is a smart young director, and these two films are a fantastic start to what I hope is a long and lucrative career. Juno doesn’t have an easy tone to achieve. Let’s not forget that our little Juno MacGuff is preggers, for shiz. Reitman knows how to strike the proper balance so that we laugh during Juno instead of dreading what this poor girl is gonna do. He also handles, along with the heneedstobeinmoremovies Jason Bateman, a creepy yet sincere man-child relationship with Juno. His place is one of a guy who still wants to be the cool music kid (which oddly enough is akin to the also heneedstobeinmoremovies Paul Rudd in Knocked Up) who isn’t quite ready to accept his adult responsibilities in a world where things didn’t quite turn out as he imagined when he was 20 rocking out to Sonic Youth and watching horror films in his parents basement. Jennifer Garner’s precise, child wanting wife is also a tricky spicket handled with pure grace. If Garner got to show stuff like this on Alias maybe she wouldn’t have had to do Elektra. Or Daredevil for that matter. P.S. I love you Jen. Anyway, Garner takes a role that could be summed up as queen bitch, but it would destroy the service she is for the film. I love Vanessa and Mark’s story. It throws a monkey wrench into what you except would happen in this type of film and is one of the many treasures. Reitman handles his actor extremely well, and knows, after all, that the film is grounded on them. If Page wasn’t half of what she was, this movie would fail. Ditto all the way around. Reitman throws in some nice indie touches and a Wes Anderson-ish track team and some cool tunes and knows how to make the best out of this soup.

I guess where the film goes wrong for me is the script. I know Diablo Cody (great name by the way) is the Hollywood “it thing” now for this. And there is no reason she shouldn’t be. It’s a good effort for a first timer. But it’s just that, a first time. And little things show through. Diablo is being hailed as “the New Tarantino” and that just isn’t so. First off, we really don’t need a new Quentin, we still have mileage on the old one (now if we would only make Inglorious Bastards instead of talking about it) and secondly calling someone “home skillet” does not a Reservoir Dogs make.

Tangent: why does Hollywood always have to reference the new “thing” in reference to the old? Will there every really be “a new Scorsese?” Do we need one for that matter? I wonder sometimes if this was always the case or something that cropped up recently. Was someone “the new Clark Gable” a one point? Maybe I should ask my parents. Anyway…

Some rough patches show through. The first of, and most glaring of which is the films opening 15 minutes in which I (and many critics agree) the film beats you with the “look at me I’m an indie flick” stick until I was as bloody as Billy Bats in the back of Pesci’s car. Seriously. Listen, I’m not some Cassavettes naturalistic snob here. My dialogue doesn’t have to be mumbled out of some non-actors mouth for it to be the shit. In fact I love written dialogue. Sorkin, Taratino, Mamet. The list goes on. I eat that shit up. But I don’t need Dwight from the Office being silenco’ed by someone who has a doodle that can’t be undid. Honest to blog, what kind of fucked up world are we watching? For a minute there I felt like is was in the middle of some weird tangent NYPD Blue-esque universe where no one talks normally and teenagers espouse Phuket, Thailand as an expletive. Have a teenager show you where Thailand is on the map (without using Google) let alone Phuket, and you’ll be quite disappointed. The dialogue isn’t cute, it most definitely isn’t “cool” (because those 15 minutes are quotation mark wanting friends) its just irritating.

But then, something magical happens. Juno tells her parents her predicament and all of a sudden, the fact that her Dad wishes she was into hard drugs instead isn’t annoying. It’s funny, and honest. And suddenly the movie gets tired of tossing out wannabe catch phrases (whether that’s Cody finding the films voice, or Reitman reigning it in we’re all the better for it.) and this little indie that could becomes a pleasure to watch.

And while some might fault the cuteness of the hamburger phone, or the ultra short gym shorts, the film does get more right then it does wrong. For example, a small but simple photo of Juno and Bleaker rocking out on someone’s porch is so true and telling of their relationship that I feel it was pulled form a real photo album, maybe even one of my own.

Maybe it isn’t the film at all that I have beef with, but its packaging. Before I even saw the trailer, at least eight people, critics and the studio were saying that it was “this years Little Miss Sunshine.” Now that offends me. I love that movie I waited months to see it and even journeyed out early one Sunday morning to finally sit and enjoy it in the theatre. And I fell in love with it. As I knew I would. But it was on my own terms, I discovered it for myself instead of having it jammed down my throat. This marketing truly shows how out of touched the Hollywood machine really is with the audience it is playing to. The whole thing about movies such as Juno is the discovery of them. It’s like finding a good band and sharing it with friends. I don’t want to listen to what others tell me is cool; I want to find cool for myself and share it to with the world. Juno was discovered long before I ever laid eyes on it and I really can’t love it like I love its predecessors.

Basically when it comes down to it, Juno is the prom date my parents picked for me. And while she might be all I really need in a girl, it’s just not the same as if I found her myself.

Personal Picks for 2007

I know this is a few weeks late, but sue me. As this new year has begun, and with the Oscars rapidly approaching I feel its only right for me to indulge in a fun game that we all like to play; Name your Best of 2007.

I have to admit, this year was quite a hard selection. Most of my picks did not appear til the fall season. This means that I was yearning for some good movie action for most of the year. However, all in all, 2007 ended with a dearth of excellent cinema. Here’s my rundown for the year. Don’t really pay attention to the order as it really doesn’t matter after one and two.


1. There Will Be Blood
What else can I say about this movie that hasn’t already been said. I flip between this and No Country on which one I like more. It changes everyday. Honestly they are both awesome films but I think I have to, in the end, go with Blood. After all it gave me my favorite new catch phrase. It was so good that I downloaded the screenplay and read the whole thing in one day, just to experience it again. PT Anderson is one of my personal faves. It’s been a long time since Punch Drunk Love, and well, it was worth the wait. Everything from Daniel Day Lewis to the evocation of Days of Heaven is magnificent. I can’t wait to see it again. Hopefully we don’t have to wait as long for the next one.




2. No Country for Old Men
The Coen Brothers have outdone themselves with this one. They have created one of the greatest movie monsters in recent history in Javier Bardem’s Aton Chigurah. This guy would rip Hannibal Lector a new asshole. But its not only Bardem, but also Tommy Lee Jones and Josh Brolin (who is having an incredible year with Grindhouse and American Gangster). The whole piece comes together with grace that both infuses it with the greatest Hitchcock thrillers and lifts it above the genre into a higher contemplation of violence and the modern world. I’ve read the book, and where Cormac McCarthy sometimes lays a heavy hand, the Coens know when to let the material speak. It’s in what’s not said, those deadly silences on the prairie that the film is its most powerful. Was there even a soundtrack? I can’t remember. All I remember is the wind, and the sound of a cattle gun. It truly is the year of the Western. This is one of the best and most fluid adaptations I have ever seen. One harrowing, gripping ride. The film is better than the book. There. I said it. Call it, Friendo.


3. Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford
It took three years for Andrew Dominik’s epic western to hit the screen. This was one of those films that I waited for. And boy was this ever worth the wait. The film is not for everyone. It’s one of those, as some friends would call it, “staring at the wheat films.” And as much as I loathe to use that phrase, this is the pick to use it on if there ever was one this year. Jesse James is a Malick infused contemplation of celebrity and the price of it. Yes it has a long title equal to its long running time. But it is also permeated with a sense of dread. Brad Pitt defines Jesse, and with very little doing makes him a force to be reckoned with. Throughout the whole film I always felt that Jesse was going to kill somebody. Even in scenes he did not appear in, the dread was still there. As if he would still show up at any moment and kill somebody. Casey Affleck (who also rocked it this year in Gone Baby Gone) is truly freakish yet sympathetic as Robert Ford. He deserves his Oscar nom. Also to be noted is the always-excellent Sam Rockwell. His role is a thankless one as the elder Ford brother. Rockwell has to play the stupid guy that gets to hang with the cool kid and he does so with grace and humility. You can see his smile give way to fear. Excellent performances all around. And the ending? The ending is truly transcendent. My heart broke. Catch this one on dvd.


4. I’m Not There
By now everyone’s heard of Cate Blanchett’s excellent turn as electric British phase Dylan analog Jude Quinn. And everyone probably knows the gimmick: different actors playing not quite Dylans. But what all the previews and hyperbole can’t give you is what a densely satisfying film it is. I can’t really talk about the narrative; it’s more of a cinematic experience of everything that is Dylan. This is like film cubism, folding and shifting, moving back on itself and referencing touchstones in Dylan’s life. It’s black and white; it’s lush color; it’s a regular narrative, it’s a documentary. I’m Not There morphs with its various actors and ends creating a product of wonder. Any Fellini fan will flip their shit at Blanchett’s segment. Everyone is marvelous in it including the late Heath Ledger who, ironically enough plays an actor who is depressed and detached separated from his wife and kids. I have to admit I wasn’t the biggest Dylan fan, but between this and Scorsese’s amazing No Direction Home I am officially a convert. Anyone who reads a Wikipedia bio before hand should see the ridiculous splendor of detail. I need to see it again just fully appreciate this monumental work of postmodern filmmaking. You haven’t seen anything like it this before.


5. Michael Clayton
Best John Grisham movie that wasn’t written by him. Many props to all involved, including writer/first time director Tony Gilroy. With fantastic performances by all main players, Michael Clayton comes out on top as a solid, intelligent thriller. A truly overlooked gem (see On the Cutting Room Floor) Catch it in theatres now while it’s re-released.




6. Zodiac
Notice that this is one of the only films that came out prior to the summer. David Fincher’s masterpiece of a crime thriller came out way back in March and has been sorely forgotten in the accolade spewing yearend summation. And that’s a shame. This over two and a half hour film held me in its vice like grip for the duration. Besides the fact that all the actors give great performances and that Fincher pushed new ground with the Viper camera, Zodiac is a well told tale. It’s the most satisfy non-ending to behold, and is a worthy addition to the Fincher oeuvre. Call this the anti-Se7en. Just the facts ma’am, and the facts have never been more compelling. If crime procedurals were always this good, I’d be watching a hell of a lot more Law and Order.


7. Eastern Promises
David Cronenberg does it again, combining his power with star Viggo Mortensen to create a beautiful companion piece to the equally awesome A History of Violence. The story is solid and the twist took me by surprise. All the players make their Russian believable (apparently it was given the thumbs up from the real Russian Mafia) and Viggo is absolutely fascinating. Naomi Watts is given a thankless role as our gateway into this seedy underworld but her and Viggo definitely have sparks. Plays more to the genre than Violence did, but I find myself enjoying it more. Best knife fight in cinema history. Beware of Turkish baths.


8. Once
Raise your hand if you heard of, let alone seen, this film. Good all three of you who did move on to number nine. The rest of you need to see what you’ve been missing. Once is the greatest, most genuine film I have seen all year long. Heart goes along way in my book and this film is literally brimming over with emotion. The plot is simple, boy street musician meets flower girl street seller who also happens to play a wicked piano and sing. Boy likes girl, girls sings with boy and somewhere in between the sweetest romance blossoms with some kickass music. Once is a musical for those that don’t like musicals. It shows the true power and emotion of what music and cinema are capable of. It is, in a single moment both heartbreaking and uplifting. Any film that does that deserves to be seen. If this doesn’t win best song at the Oscars, I will flip my shit. And if you don’t trust me, listen to Mr. Spielberg :
“A little movie called Once gave me enough inspiration to last the rest of the year,” said Steven Spielberg to USA Today.
Nuff said. Netflix it now. Then buy the soundtrack, collectors edition with the DVD. You’ll be glad you did.


9. Hot Fuzz
Is anyone doing better satire today than Edgar Wright and Simon Pegg? These two British chaps have come along to pick up the torch from Mel Brooks and make films that both mock and embrace their genres and in the process come with up with something that is completely refreshing. I don’t think there’s enough room to fit every action film they are riffing off of here, to go through the Michael Bay movies alone would take enough time. Needless to say that while the last half hour is a balls to the wall tour de force, it’s the loving if not homoerotic exaggerated for laughs relationship between Nick Frost’s Danny Butterman and Simon Pegg’s Nick Angel that make the film stick. These two are the definition of buddy cop. If you don’t already own it, I recommend you get the stellar three disc set. Totally worth it. Can’t wait to see what these two guys do next. I’ll be the first in line when they do.


10. The Darjeeling Limited
Wes Anderson serves up yet another dysfunctional family, but this time its with three brothers who are literally trying to unload their baggage. Many critics have cried foul on this one, stating that Anderson is going in circles. I say, the flashback sequence is worth the movie alone. Anderson hits all the write notes, even if they may sound familiar. Keep an eye out for the cameos. Watch it with its companion short Hotel Chevalier and enjoy the experience. Now where’s that Mastercard movie, Wes?





Guilty Pleasure: Grindhouse


Things I Missed That Could Have Been on This List:
Control, Margot at the Wedding, Charlie Wilson’s War, The Diving Bell and the Butterfly


So that’s it for my favorites of the year. I feel I’m bound to have missed some. What are yours? Leave me some feedback.

I Drink Your Milkshake!

Review: There Will Be Blood


This review has been a long time coming. And yes it will be long. If you haven't seen the movie don't read this. Just know that its good, and go see it. I doubt a lover of cinema will be disappointed.

So is There Will Be Blood a maasterpiece? Well I am loathe to say that about any film made in my lifetime. People throw that word and "genius" around quite too often. But is it good? Yes. Yes it is, it's magnificent to be hold in a way that the words I write now can't quite contain. A few weeks ago I sat through a 2 and half hour plus, Jonny Greenwood drench, Daniel Day-Lewis spewing, oil dripping epic of a character study. And I sat there with a smile across my face. Does it live up to its name? Oh yes. Maybe not to some's satisfaction but most definitely to mine.


But then again I am a PT Anderson freak. Super freak. Those that think this is a depature for him are people who think Boogie Nights is his first film. It's not. That's Hard Eight (Sidney) and all that is is a beautiful character study, a love note to Phillip Baker Hall. So if anything this film is a return. A full circle so to speak, except this time his affection is for Daniel Day-Lewis. So no this is not a depature. Boogie Nights is filled with a glee of a 27 yr old who knows how to use a steadicam as says "Eat my continuous shot intro, and my I am Cuba Homage pool shot, and my Scorese coke dollys. Eat it up!" And I love that. But PT isn't 27 anymore he's 37 and has a kid, and There Will be Blood is a return to character study from a man who has matured but still has that kid love of filmmaking, long shots and letting actors act, inside of him. He's just older. As such, There Will Be Blood is more measured in that way but pulses with that school boy glee.


Day-Lewis deserves every award he's about to recieve for his Kane-esque portrait of a man who has a competition in him, yet yearns for an heir, an equal, a family he he blatantly drops to suceed in his goals. This film, like many other of PT's, is a about fathers and sons and the affect they have on one another. The film hinges on Plainview's relationship to his son, HW and all that it implies. When HW becomes damaged, Daniel is torn, because he can never truly be his, he is now part of what he hates and longs to escapes. HW isn't his only son however. Paul Dano's Eli is too, in a way, a spawn of Daniel, though be it his ambition and greed. If HW is Daniel's heart, the Eli is Daniels black inner reflection. You can see Plainviews affect on his "son" when the beating Eli suffers at Daniel's hand is then transfered by Eli to his father Abel. Daniel's influence is clear, wether Eli admits it or not. The false prophet from God stands very much in Plainviews shadow. But that is where they are different. For Daniel knows what he is, and Eli never can truly admit his lie. All this leads to an ending that really does divde people.


Not me, mind you. I find it a fitting end to an epic tale of a man who in yearning for family, deserts and destorys all that he has of it. Some say it may not be in keeping with the tone of the rest of the film. Well that is your opinion. To me, the end caps and fullfils character traits that we have witnessed all along. Anderson makes you laugh until he makes you stop laughing, and that too can be affective. Tarantino has made a career out of it. You are supposed to laugh. It makes the horror more chilling. Watching this scene with the audience was a treat. I heard the theatre's laughter followed by a collective gasp. And I knew he had them.

I drink PT Anderson's milkshake. I drink it up. Find this film in your town and see it and enjoy. There will be greed. There will be vengance. There will be blood. That's a promise.

"I'm finished!"

http://youtube.com/watch?v=ThZI-p8SKe0

On the Cutting Room Floor: Michael Clayton

***Little note. This is a section called On the Cutting Room Floor. Many of you are aware of the term, it refers to filmmaking where a scene is cut out. This section will be use to spotlight things that I think might have been lost in the shuffle and overlooked. And hopefully, in doing so, help these pieces find an audience.***

So if you took a look at the Oscar best picture nominations, you might have noticed a little picture called Michael Clayton surprisingly staking a little claim. That said, it left most people going "oh yeah, wasn't it that film with George Clooney?" Well it was. And it was also a great gem of a film that most people overlooked back in the fall.

Tony Gillory (who scrpited the equally awesome Bourne series) also scripts this and steps into the director's chair for the first time to hit it out of the park. Not only is there a visual treat (provided by cinematographer Robert Elswitt who pulled double duty this year with PT Anderson's tremendous epic There Will Be Blood) but also excellent performances from all three main players. George Clooney is the titular "fixer" that carries this film, Tom Wilkinson the cheif lawyer Aurther Edens whose mental breakdown Clooney is asked to cover up, and Tilda Swinton corporate lawyer who desperately wants this all to go away. All three are given plenty to work with in the tightly paced script and all or them shine in their roles.

Michael Clayton is reminisent of a good seventies thriller. It feels in tone with All the Presidents Men and other ilk. I've heard it described as the best John Grisham film he never wrote. I'd have to say they are dead correct. The tension is so tight in this film, you feel as if it could snap at any moment. George Clooney is in peril, and I never doubted for a second. Above all, Clayton is smart, which is sad to say, but that is refreshing. Unfortunately intelligent films are few and far between. Michael Clayton is an adult film made for adult audience and as such, it doesn't pander to its audience. It gives you credit as a thinking participant and even plays on your expection. At the end of the day, Michael Clayton is a rewarding film that has you leaving the theatre knowing you've seem something great. While Michael Clayton may not win any of the Oscars it is nominated for, it has already done its job. Thanks to the nods Michael Clayton is being re-released in the theatres. Oscar has given the greatest gift of all, a breath of freash life, and a second chance to find its viewers. Search it out in the cineplexes near you. You'll be glad you did.

Welcome!

Hey Everyone,

So yeah, I started a blog. But this spot isn't about me getting on my soap box and pontificating (though sometimes I might) my intension is to create this website to be a place of discourse. There are some things in life that I love: film, music, and literature. And if there is one thing I love more than that it's discussing them. In this day and age everyone's a critic, everyone has an opinion, everyone wants to be heard, and generally people are very liberal with letting their positions be known. So basically I'm going to post reviews, opinions and general news that we can talk about. And remember, what I post is merely my opinion. You don't have to necessarily agree with me or what I say. In fact, I'd love you to persuade me different. All too often people use the internet as an anonymous place to bitch and moan. I don't want to do that. Think of this as an extended digital coffee table we're all sitting around, and I'm just tossing out topics of conversations. And you can too, leave comments, hell email me pieces, I'll post them. Let's just talk about what we love and have fun. I'll have my first post up soon. Can't wait to hear your thoughts.


-Manny