Library of Congress Selects New Films for Preservation

Among the more notable of the 25 new entries in the National Film Registry:

• Blazing Saddles (1974)
• Fargo (1996)
• Groundhog Day (1993)
• Halloween (1978)
• Notorious (1946)
• Rocky (1976)
• Sex, Lies and Videotape (1989)

All in all, a good selection for this year. And I'm quite happy that they chose Sex, Lies and Videotape, as the NFR sometimes has trouble remembering to put independent films on their list. What should be next? Well, it's high time they put A Christmas Story (1983) on there, and more Cassavetes stuff would be nice, especially
Faces (1968), along with A Clockwork Orange (1971), 12 Angry Men (1957) and Dog Day Afternoon (1975). Lots of great films that still need to be preserved.

The list of films on the National Film Registry (sans this year's additions)

Odd news of the day: Gus Van Sant arrested for drunk driving.

Borat

"Most of the humor comes from the fact that Sacha Baron Cohen is using his character to show other people's faults. To be honest, while it is funny, most of the time it's simply a real eye-opener to how stupid and bigoted people in America can be."

Borat is still in theaters, and yet right now I have a DVD-quality copy. God bless the internet...

The nominees for the 2007 Independent Spirit Awards (one of the last film awards that really mean anything)

Funny story tonight... I was fucking around with my computers, and since I figured the problem with both of them was overheating, I downloaded a little program that tells you how hot the temperatures of your fan and processor are. Well, the laptop fan is completely dead and is no longer moving, because the program told me that the CPU no longer is aware that a fan is attached(!) and the laptop processor, which is supposed to be at a temp of about 123 degrees fahrenheit, was clocking in at over 200 degrees(!) so the processor is fried, because, obviously, the fan had stopped cooling the processor long ago, and once a processor gets that hot, it's over. So, I tried that program on the desktop, and both the processor and fan temperatures were also too high, meaning the fan wasn't doing its job either. Luckily, the processor wasn't so hot that it had fried yet, so I opened up the side of the computer case, and I have a little fan blowing in there, and now the program shows a normal CPU temperature... so I dunno. Maybe it will at least stay on a little longer than usual.

Well, Unaccompanied Minors bombed, opening at #7 last weekend, with $5.82 million... Told you so.

Most movies - good movies - have one great moment... if they're lucky. Just one. It might not be much more than a look, or the way a certain line was said, but most have at least one. This moment might make you laugh, or cry, or think about something in your life. Moments that you easily remember weeks, months, and years after you've seen them. Most movies have a couple. Magnolia has over two dozen, and I can name them off the top of my head: The opening prologue. The "wise-up" sequence. The Frogs. The music - every single note - and how it drives the story. Jason Robards' deathbed monologue. John C. Reilly after he's lost his gun. Donnie's speech in the bar. Frank Mackey's on-stage, double-meaning dialogue after he's found out his father is dying. The beautiful camerawork. Cruise's breakdown. Melora Walters - in basically every scene. The kid telling the father "you have to be nicer to me." Cruise walking down the hallway as the looping music plays. The subtext - all of it - the father/son stuff, the spiritual aspect, and most of all - hope. The frogs waking up Robards. The kid's speech on the gameshow. John C. in the car after asking for a date. John C. praying by himself in his bedroom. His date with Melora. Julianne Moore. The whole structure of the film itself. Aimee Mann's music. And I could go on and on. Rarely does someone have the audacity to attempt something like it, or, more importantly, the talent to ensure that not one note of performance or direction is off key. It's not really a movie, it's an experience. I once heard a story that when Darren Aronofsky watches Apocalypse Now (another great "experience" film) he gets the room completely black, going so far as to tape the cracks in the windows and doors and use black curtains. He then starts the movie from the beginning, and if for whatever reason he has to stop it, he can't continue, he has to start from the beginning again. He does this once a year - watching the movie like this. It sounds insane, but all of us film people have a movie that we treat like this. Before he goes to direct a new movie, Spielberg always watches Seven Samurai, Lawrence of Arabia, It's a Wonderful Life, and The Searchers, in that order, and without stopping. We all have one picture we treat like this. I guess mine's Magnolia. Yes, we're weird. But we're movie people.

Peter Boyle
1935-2006

The Gaslight District, Part 4

He continued looking out his window, down on the dark street below and the rows of brownstones that littered the block. The early-morning dog walkers started to emerge from their houses and sleepily made their way down the long flights of stairs leading to their doors. The street consisted of many of these old brownstone buildings – many of them hundreds of years old – and a single large apartment complex on the end. Each side of the street was lit with gaslights – a dozen on each side, leading all the way up to the other side of the street, to the chestnut tree on the other end. The street sat on a hill, enabling anyone at a high enough altitude and facing the west to look down upon the entire Gaslight District, and, further on in the distance, the rest of Boston.

As the old man stood staring out his window, he heard a sound from the kitchen. It seemed to be a slight rattling noise, although he could not pinpoint the source of it. At first he thought it might be an intruder, but he soon realized that was not the case, as his front door opened into his living room, and he would’ve heard someone enter the front door long before this. As he stepped into his kitchen, he spotted a mouse scurrying across the floor. Then, all of a sudden, it stopped in its tracks, and looked up at the old man, who continued walking into the kitchen. The mouse stood, frozen. Not one step. Not one hesitation. It was not out of fear – in fact, it stood there casually, making a chirping noise with its mouth. Even the mouse knew this man meant no harm.

Then, abruptly, the room went dark. He looked out his window, and noticed that one of the gaslights had gone out. Now all that remained was the moonlight. As his eyes slowly adjusted to the faint lighting in the room, he squinted behind his thick glasses and staggered over to the kitchen table, where he sat down at the rickety old chair near the window. He looked through the aged, scratched window glass and observed the stars fading one by one, and then the first rays of sunshine struggling to penetrate the thick morning fog. As he watched a young city worker trying to fix the broken gaslight outside, he turned his attention back inside, where he noticed his little rodent friend was how sitting on the table next to him. Years ago, he would have chased the little animal away, broom in hand, all around the apartment – as if he was reenacting some lost comic image from an old Charlie Chaplin film. But age had gotten to him – in more ways than one – and now he slowly raised himself from his chair and made his way to the cupboard. He rummaged through the boxes and cans, and victoriously arrived at a box of crackers, which he opened up and brought back to the table. He took one out of the box, breaking a piece of it off and carefully placing it down on the table. The mouse’s first instinct was to snatch it up as quickly as possible with its little paws and run back to its hiding place, but this was a different situation, and it knew this fact very well. It confidently strolled over to the cracker and ate it in that very spot, mere inches from the man’s hand. After it was done, the man broke off another small piece and placed it in the palm of his hand, laying the back side of his hand flat against the table. The mouse hesitated this time, but its little feet began to creep forward, until he was next to – and then in – the palm of his hand. Just then, a loud sound outside made the man jump, and the mouse went scurrying off into a corner. Looking outside the window, he noticed the worker who was fixing the gaslight had dropped his toolbox, which had sent dozens of wrenches and hammers onto the street and scattered across the sidewalk. The old man turned his attention back inside and began to look for the mouse.

The Gaslight District, Part 1
The Gaslight District, Part 2
The Gaslight District, Part 3

Oliver Stone talks about Bush (Edinburgh Film Festival 2003)

Dr. John - To Hell With Love

Woody Allen interviews Billy Graham (1969)

Two people who are definitely on opposite ends of the religious spectrum...
Interesting conversation.

Part 1


Part 2

Man, YouTube sucks now. It's too popular and too many people know about it now. All of the studios are freaking out about even just clips of movies and stuff being up there. My account got deleted... I can easily make another one, but why bother?

I was thinking about it, and it just hit me this morning: This has been a shitty year for movies. Sure, there's been a few decent ones, and one flat-out masterpiece (United 93), but I guess nothing could really compare to last year, and I don't think anything will for quite some time. Last year really was a terrific year for movies. I mean, just think about it: Brokeback Mountain. The Squid and the Whale. Syriana. Capote. Murderball. Cinderella Man. Good Night, and Good Luck. Broken Flowers. Match Point. Saraband. A History of Violence. The New World. Walk the Line. Grizzly Man. And that's not even everything. Last year will probably go down in history as one of the best, right down there with '94 (The Shawshank Redemption, Pulp Fiction, Forrest Gump, Quiz Show, Ed Wood, etc.) and '95 (Apollo 13, Leaving Las Vegas, Dead Man Walking, Casino, The Usual Suspects, etc.) and only a handful of other years. Good times.

Claude Jade
1948-2006

Well, Paul Feig is back. The creator of Freaks and Geeks has a new movie coming out, Unaccompanied Minors. However, I fear he has a flop on his hands. The problem? The title. A terrible title. It's being called Grounded over in the UK, and it's obvious somebody over there has a little more brains. Warner Brothers (right now the last-place studio...with hair-brained decisions like this it's not hard to see why) has been marketing the movie towards small children, but they've given the movie a title that they can't even pronounce or understand. And I don't think they're playing up the cast enough, especially with the large fanbase that Wilmer Valderrama (That 70's Show) has. Even worse for Feig, I fear that there might actually be a good movie hidden under all of the marketing bullshit. It's based on a true story, which essayist Susan Burton recounted on NPR's "This American Life" a few years back, and the cast is great. Sadly, it looks like another flop for Feig, whose 2003 film I Am David bombed, grossing just $284,000 on a $25 million budget. Since then, he's gone back to TV-land, directing episodes of The Office and Arrested Development, which was a good fit for him and is probably where he should stay. Of course, we wouldn't even be having this conversation if Warners would just call the movie Grounded.

Kind of interesting stuff today: I got a cease-and-desist order from Vincent Gallo himself, requesting I take a clip down off of YouTube (the photo booth scene from Buffalo '66). I've gotten these before, but it's sort of odd that it came in the form of an e-mail from the actual guy instead of an e-mail from YouTube saying that a studio had requested it. Strange. Anyway, I took it down of course, but it's kind of fun to know that Gallo was strolling through the internet today and ended up e-mailing me for one reason or another.

Candles on Bay Street, a TV-movie, premieres tonight. Set in Maine, but was filmed (like almost everything else these days) in Canada. Boo...!
(Does this mean I spend too much time reading about random shit? Answer: yes)

Robert Altman
1925-2006

Art School Confidential - terrible goddamn movie... what happened to Terry Zwigoff?

The Gaslight District, part 3

As the day continued on, he retired to his bedroom, watching the sun’s descent on his ceiling. The bright white light of afternoon quickly turned orange, and then the dark amber hue of evening filled his window. He walked across the room and looked down on the street below. The last lingering signs of life remained: Several kids – remnants of the evening’s hide-and-seek game – hid behind cars and underneath bushes, desperate to escape the clutch of that night’s seeker; the old women – seated outside on their front stoops in lawn chairs – had given up on their afternoon sunshine, and instead headed inside to actually face their husbands for the night.

He lived across the street from a bar, and as the many groups of people entered on this Friday night, he made – as he often did – a little bet with himself as to which one of them would be the last to stumble out onto the sidewalk in a drunken stupor, waking him up from his deep sleep and signaling the arrival of the misty morning fog. As he drifted off to sleep, his thoughts quickly veered from the exploits across the street back to matters of more importance. The beach. The sand. The night. That long-lost memory, all those years ago. It was so clear and vivid in his mind, it could have happened yesterday: The crashing of waves against the shore; the distant sound of a cargo ship in the darkness; the faint scent of saltwater on his clothes the next morning. Fuck this. He hurriedly summoned up all of his energy and attempted to focus on something else. Something much less emotionally...brutal.

As he frantically searched his mind for a comforting image with which to numb his brain into submission, his thoughts wandered back to the little girl and the chestnut tree, and he quickly fell asleep. He was awoken by a loud crash, and he sleepily shuffled over to the window to locate the cause of the disturbance. He spotted Seymour, the 60-year-old town drunk, stumbling around outside. He had wandered outside – or, more likely, was kicked out – and tripped over a large metal trashcan, sending it tumbling into he street, and he along with it. As the owner of the bar retrieved him from the pavement and tried to silence the babbling, intoxicated old man, Seymour picked himself up, brushed himself off, and strolled into the early morning light. He stopped in front of the corner chestnut tree, picked a few of them up off the ground, and put them in his pocket. As several kids groggily walked to the bus stop, he handed a chestnut to a little girl, and kept on walking.

The Gaslight District, part 2

He struggled to open the heavy oak door, and once inside, he began his trek up the dimly-lit hallway. The old stairs creaked and groaned under his weight as he made his daily trek up to his fourth floor apartment. He had promised himself for years that he’d move into another building on the other side of town, where the then-new building codes required that there be an elevator, but years later, he remained in the same place. He walked through the quiet hallway, down to the end of the hall, and stopped in front of apartment 8A. He turned the key in the doorknob, and forced open his frequently-stuck door. I need to fix that. He knew he never would, of course, but it made him feel like he was accomplishing something by noticing that it needed to be done.

He walked over to his television, and retrieved the picture of his wife that was sitting on top of it. As part of his ritual, he kissed the picture, set it back down, and walked to his kitchen table. He looked out his window, over all of Beacon Hill, and watched the gaslights slowly being exterminated. Even the city had not yet adjusted to the autumn season. He turned his attention back inside his apartment. His hands searched the cluttered kitchen table for his journal. He found it and opened it, its old leather cover stretching and straining upon opening. He started writing, his rambling prose detailing all of the sights and scenes of the day. He wrote of how the young family had reminded him of himself when he was younger – minus the child, of course – for that little detail was never to occur. He wrote of the fluttering leaves and the busy waitress and the half-asleep assembly line of customers, and anything else that happened to enter his brain at that particular moment.

A cloud formed overhead, and the light inside his small apartment slowly began to dim. He walked across the room and switched on the light, and the overhead fluorescent bulbs flickered and buzzed as the room quickly brightened. Hours had passed, and he returned to the window, now watching the children returning home after their day at school. He watched as the fleet of yellow schoolbuses rolled over the hills, winding in and out of the streets, and marvelled at the ballet of little feet splashing in puddles and picking up fallen leaves in the street. A little girl paused and examined a chestnut tree, and upon obtaining some of its riches that were deposited on the ground, promptly skipped on down the street, making sure to jump in each and every puddle along the way. The cloud became thicker and more pronounced in the sky, and he was sure a storm was coming. Whether it would be rain or snow, he could not be sure. It was that time of year.

The Gaslight District, part 1

He looks about 30 years old, he thought, as he picked at his now-cold toast and sipped at his coffee. But she looks younger, maybe 25 or 26. I wonder if they live in the area. He glanced over across the coffee shop and noticed it was getting busy. Shit. He hated when it started to get noisy and crowded. I’ll give myself another ten minutes, and then I’m going home. He looked back out the window, and noticed that the couple had gone, replaced now by the emptiness of the autumn air. Defeated, he turned his attention back to the interior of the slightly drafty restaurant and tried to gauge with some actuality how crowded the place had become. Being close to nine o’clock, it was hard to tell, since most of the people who came in at this time in the morning took their orders to go. He sat there for a moment, amused at the sight of the line of people moving in a slightly-comatose, half-asleep fashion. Finding that the place was in no danger of being over-occupied, he turned his attention back to the window. Now there stood a family of three, a man and wife along with their young daughter. Suddenly a memory fluttered down into his head. It was nothing he could put his finger on; more a collection of images and feelings than anything else. He knew it had something to do with his past, but he elected not to allow it to enter his mind. Whether it was because he couldn’t remember the details or because he didn’t want to remember, he didn’t know, nor did he want to.

The young man outside the window had his arm around his wife, and his daughter held onto his other hand. He looked away from the couple and down at his wrinkled fingers, which were incessantly examining the handle of the coffee cup. He realized that his old hands had never held a child’s, and the enormity of that statement both scared and fascinated him. They were laughing, all three of them, and he couldn’t stand it a moment longer. He packed up his things and tried to get the waitress’ attention. She was the kind of waitress that almost obsessively asks you, repeatedly, if you need anything else. It was ironic that when he really wanted to go, she had become so busy that she couldn’t fulfill his request.

He looked back out the window. He figured that if he was going to punish himself, he might as well get it over with. That was me 50 years ago, he thought, as he looked at the couple again. He looked helplessly at the stream of people coming into the restaurant, and saw no end in sight. Fuck it. He looked back outside, and marveled at how much the young man resembled himself, all those years ago. The woman even resembled his wife. It was as if someone had planned and orchestrated this situation in order to make him face things he was determined not to face. It was impossible, of course, but he was paranoid by nature.

That same memory flooded into his head again, and instead of trying to force it out, he gave in. It was a time of happiness. The beach. The sand. The night. It was one of those experiences you struggle to remember at times, and struggle to forget at others. He probably thanked God for that moment 50 years ago, but he’d do anything to forget it now.

God. That was a funny word. It used to mean something to him years ago. It represented humanity and hope, wonderment and beauty. That was back when things made sense. Do you remember when things used to make sense? He posed the question to the invisible person who would understand. But none of those people were around anymore. Anyone who might have known his name had died years ago. He watched the traffic light cycle from green to red, and back again, and watched the family of three walk across the street. Off to their life, he thought.

The waitress returned and gave the old man his check. He had finally received his invitation to leave, but still he sat, watching the leaves blow amongst the now-dead trees, wandering into the gutters and alleys and onto the windshields of cars. He turned his attention back inside the restaurant, where a sudden click click click sound was grabbing his attention away from everything else. His eyes darted around the room as he searched for the source of the unrelenting noise. Just as he was growing more and more impatient, he spotted, out of the corner of his eye, a little girl outside. She was repeatedly kicking a lamp post, much to the dismay of her irritated mother. In that moment, for whatever reason, she made eye contact with him. She paused for a moment, and then, like it was the most natural thing in the world, she waved to him. The man smiled and waved back, almost on impulse. Then, the light changed, and they left. He had to get out of here.

He quickly picked up his belongings, and hurried out the door. There he stood, a mere six blocks from his apartment. I’ll be forever grateful, he thought, if I can just get back home without incident. He quickly walked the sidewalks, even stepping into the gutter if someone stepped too close. He peered down at the cracked pavement, examining the discarded band-aids and random plastic, picturing the warm, inviting home that awaited him. Four more blocks. He spotted a young man up ahead of him. He looked lost. Just as this person opened his mouth to ask directions, he let out a loud cough, and kept on going. He felt guilty for a moment, then he turned back, and spotted the man talking to someone else. That made him feel a bit better. He turned the corner and saw his front door.

John C. Reilly on Saturday Night Live tonight!!

Gillo Pontecorvo
1919-2006

Kiss Kiss Bang Bang - wow, what a good movie...

"The Question Song"

This was on YouTube's front page the other day. You might've seen it, but if you haven't, it's too good to miss:
"The Question Song"

Movie Theater Goes Dark, Refusing to Show 'Lousy Material'

L.A. Times article

Sven Nykvist
1922-2006

What's on the flip side?

Well, CBS actually did end up showing the 9/11 documentary last night... around midnight. Shame on these guys for chickening out and not showing it at 8 PM.

Articles about this mess:
August 31: CBS To Air Controversial 9/11 Film Without Ads
September 4: Worried CBS Stations Drop 9/11 Film
September 8: CBS's 9/11 Documentary Gets All-Clear

More of that crazy WE channel shit... tonight The Last Seduction was on... I swear, all they'd have to do is stop with the shitty TV movies and it would be like the Sundance Channel or something.
EDIT: After The Last Seduction was Swimming. I think the key is to tune in late at night, and it suddenly becomes a great indie movie channel...

The continuing weirdness of that WE -Women's Entertainment channel:

Not only do they show re-runs of shitty Lifetime TV movies, but they also randomly show great movies once in a while; last month they showed All The Real Girls, and tonight Ghost World was on. This has to be one of the weirdest channels ever.

Ellen Burstyn gets Emmy-nominated for a 14-second performance

This happened a few weeks ago, but it's still fucking insane:

Ellen Burstyn (who is an amazing actress, by the way... Her performance in Requiem for a Dream is easily the best performance by an actress in at least a decade. If you haven't seen the movie, you're really missing out...) has somehow managed to be nominated for a role that is 14-seconds long.

You can watch her entire performance here
and read another article about the whole mess here.

200 Films to See Before You Die

Recently, FilmFour published a list of the "50 Films to See Before You Die" (you can read the article here). The problem with this list - and most of these "best" lists in general - is a combination of two things: First of all, it's much too short. A list of 50 films barely covers anything. Second of all, this list is a little suspect in what it chooses (Erin Brockovich?) and it relies much too heavily on recent films.
So, I took a good half hour and made this list. There's 200 films here, in no particular order. They're spit up into genres, in an attempt to give it some kind of structure. Keep in mind that there are, of course, many many more great films out there, this is just kind of a starting point.

Crime Drama
1. The Godfather Trilogy (1972, 1974, 1990)
2. Goodfellas (1990)
3. Dog Day Afternoon (1975)
4. Mean Streets (1973)
5. Heat (1995)
6. High and Low (1963)
7. Badlands (1973)
8. Bonnie and Clyde (1967)
9. Rashômon (1950)
10. Breathless (1960)
11. L.A. Confidential (1997)
12. The Usual Suspects (1995)
13. Serpico (1973)
14. Once Upon a Time in America (1984)
15. Fargo (1996)

Film Noir
16. Chinatown (1974)
17. The Third Man (1949)
18. M (1931)
19. Double Indemnity (1944)
20. Touch of Evil (1958)
21. Sunset Boulevard (1950)
22. The Maltese Falcon (1941)

Coming-of-age films
23. The 400 Blows (1959)
24. Stolen Kisses (1968)
25. American Graffiti (1973)
26. Dazed and Confused (1993)
27. Fast Times at Ridgemont High (1982)
28. The Breakfast Club (1985)
29. Almost Famous (2000)
30. A Christmas Story (1983)
31. Dead Poets Society (1989)
32. My Life as a Dog (1985)
33. Rushmore (1998)
34. Stand By Me (1986)
35. Big (1988)
36. Diner (1982)
37. Ghost World (2000)
38. The Graduate (1967)
39. Rebel Without a Cause (1955)

Action/Adventure
40. The Treasure of the Sierra Madre (1948)
41. Die Hard (1988)
42. The Fugitive (1993)
43. Terminator 2 (1991)
44. Jurassic Park (1993)
45. Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981)

Documentaries
46. Hearts and Minds (1974)
47. Hoop Dreams (1994)
48. Roger & Me (1989)
49. The Thin Blue Line (1988)
50. Bowling for Columbine (2002)

Courtroom Dramas
51. 12 Angry Men (1957)
52. To Kill a Mockingbird (1962)
53. The Verdict (1982)
54. Kramer vs. Kramer (1979)

War/Holocaust films
55. All Quiet on the Western Front (1930)
56. Born on the Fourth of July (1989)
57. Paths of Glory (1957)
58. Apocalypse Now (1979)
59. The Best Years of Our Lives (1946)
60. The Bridge on the River Kwai (1957)
61. Das Boot (1981)
62. Coming Home (1978)
63. The Deer Hunter (1978)
64. Platoon (1986)
65. Full Metal Jacket (1987)
66. Saving Private Ryan (1998)
67. Schindler’s List (1993)
68. Life Is Beautiful (1997)
69. The Pianist (2002)

Drama
70. Leaving Las Vegas (1995)
71. Drugstore Cowboy (1989)
72. Requiem for a Dream (2000)
73. Crimes and Misdemeanors (1989)
74. Breaking the Waves (1996)
75. Dancer in the Dark (2000)
76. The Bicycle Thief (1948)
77. The Lost Weekend (1945)
78. Ordinary People (1980)
79. Taxi Driver (1976)
80. One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest (1975)
81. On the Waterfront (1954)
82. The Shawshank Redemption (1994)
83. American Beauty (1999)
84. Seven Samurai (1954)
85. Fanny and Alexander (1982)
86. Wild Strawberries (1957)
87. The Seventh Seal (1957)
88. The Virgin Spring (1960)
89. Persona (1966)

Historical Drama
90. JFK (1991)
91. Apollo 13 (1995)
92. The Last Emperor (1987)
93. Lawrence of Arabia (1962)
94. Barry Lyndon (1975)
95. Ran (1985)
96. Malcolm X (1992)

Sports Drama
97. Hoosiers (1986)
98. Rocky (1976)
99. Raging Bull (1980)
100. Rudy (1993)

Multiple-character stories
101. Short Cuts (1993)
102. Boogie Nights (1997)
103. Magnolia (1999)
104. Nashville (1975)

Westerns
105. The Magnificent Seven (1960)
106. Once Upon a Time in the West (1968)
107. The Searchers (1956)
108. The Wild Bunch (1969)
109. The Good, the Bad and the Ugly (1966)

About Films/Filmmaking
110. 8½ (1963)
111. Cinema Paradiso (1989)
112. Day for Night (1973)
113. Living in Oblivion (1995)
114. Hearts of Darkness: A Filmmaker’s Apocalypse (1991)
115. Burden of Dreams (1982)
116. The Player (1992)
117. The Purple Rose of Cairo (1985)

Science Fiction/Fantasy
118. 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968)
119. Close Encounters of the Third Kind (1977)
120. Back to the Future (1985)
121. E.T. (1982)
122. Edward Scissorhands (1990)
123. Ghostbusters (1984)
124. The Lord of the Rings trilogy (2001-2003)

Horror/Thriller
125. Alien (1979)
126. Carrie (1976)
127. The Birds (1963)
128. Rear Window (1954)
129. Psycho (1960)
130. Vertigo (1958)
131. North By Northwest (1959)
132. Night of the Living Dead (1968)
133. Dawn of the Dead (1978)
134. A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984)
135. The Silence of the Lambs (1991)
136. Misery (1990)
137. Deliverance (1972)
138. Evil Dead 2 (1987)
139. The Exorcist (1973)
140. The Shining (1980)
141. Halloween (1978)
142. Jaws (1975)
143. The Manchurian Candidate (1962)
144. The Conversation (1974)
145. Marathon Man (1976)

Romance
146. The Apartment (1960)
147. Casablanca (1942)
148. Gone With the Wind (1939)
149. The Goodbye Girl (1977)

Love/Relationships
150. Annie Hall (1977)
151. Manhattan (1979)
152. Before Sunrise (1995)
153. Before Sunset (2004)
154. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004)
155. High Fidelity (2000)
156. Jules and Jim (1961)

Screwball Comedy
157. The Bad News Bears (1976)
158. Ferris Bueller’s Day Off (1986)
159. Planes, Trains and Automobiles (1987)
160. Some Like It Hot (1959)
161. Tootsie (1982)
162. Groundhog Day (1993)
163. My Cousin Vinny (1992)
164. Animal House (1978)
165. The Odd Couple (1968)
166. Monty Python and the Holy Grail (1975)

Dark Comedy
167. Fight Club (1999)
168. Welcome to the Dollhouse (1997)
169. Harold and Maude (1971)

REALLY Dark Comedy
170. Blue Velvet (1986)
171. Happiness (1998)
172. Heathers (1989)

Satire
173. Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (1964)
174. M*A*S*H (1970)
175. A Clockwork Orange (1971)
176. Being There (1979)
177. Brazil (1985)
178. Network (1976)
179. Office Space (1999)
180. The Great Dictator (1940)

Groundbreaking/Controversial films
181. Brokeback Mountain (2005)
182. Do the Right Thing (1989)
183. Boyz N the Hood (1991)
184. Pulp Fiction (1994)
185. Philadelphia (1993)
186. Easy Rider (1969)
187. Citizen Kane (1941)
188. The Jazz Singer (1927)
189. A Streetcar Named Desire (1951)
190. Last Tango in Paris (1972)
191. Midnight Cowboy (1969)
192. Kids (1995)
193. Fahrenheit 9/11 (2004)

Experimental/Non-Narrative
194. Days of Heaven (1978)
195. The Thin Red Line (1998)
196. Slacker (1994)

Silent films
197. City Lights (1931)
198. Metropolis (1927)
199. The Passion of Joan of Arc (1928)
200. Nosferatu (1922)

Well... recently, I've put up a whole bunch of new shit on YouTube, so instead of telling you about each thing, I will instead direct you here, where you can look at the new stuff all in one place. Have fun.

I was watching The Fresh Prince of Bel Air tonight...not a strange thing in and of itself... What was strange? Seeing Brad Garrett (pre-Raymond fame) as a burglar. Weird.

John C. Reilly was on Larry King tonight! He was on with Will Ferrell promoting that awful-looking new movie Talladega Nights...
But the best thing: they were both on the show, in character for the entire interview! John C. Reilly, playing a character, improvising, for like an hour... awesome.

Damn, I forgot how great Dancer in the Dark actually is...

Random thought:
Holy shit, Peter Jackson has lost a lot of weight...


1995



2006

Adam Carolla hangs up on Ann Coulter

Those of us who were fans of Loveline already know that Adam is a God... this just confirms it. The set-up is this: Ann Coulter - right-wing nut and Total Bitch - was supposed to call up Adam's morning radio show. Here's the results: Listen Here

The last dim light of hope was there
Although it wasn't really true
His thoughts must lie in deep despair
For now what lingers must be you

Thoughts that clutter, cloud and break
The Nothing Life that still goes on
The seed of spirit slowly takes
Roundabout, and now is gone

How bad, do you suggest, is it
That life has never showed you?
She never really has seemed fit
To admit a stunning view

New members of the Academy

Well, it's that time of year again... the time when the Academy selects some new members to join. As usual, there were some great choices that make total sense (Jake Gyllenhaal!! David Strathairn!! Werner Herzog!! Noah Baumbach!! Lance Acord!!). But as usual, there's more stuff here that doesn't make any sense at all (Mark Waters? The best thing he's done was Mean Girls... But the most insane one is... Dakota Fanning??? She's like 9. She's not even old enough to legally see most of the nominated movies; how is she supposed to vote? Most of the other stuff makes more sense than that, but falls victim to the old rule of: you're nominated, you're basically guaranteed to be invited to join. Most of the list consists of people who've had one or two good films, got nominated last year, and now are on.
Anyways, here's the whole list here. Now you can read it and also wonder what the hell is going on...

Anybody looking for a way to waste an hour or two?
This is one of my favorite sites ever... it's called "X-Entertainment", and I've known about it for around six months now. Basically, the site consists of this guy who talks about lots of different things from his youth: from movies and toys, to candy and food... you might as well call this thing Nostalgia Central. It's a really funny trip back in time for any kid that grew up in the 80's and early 90's. He's been doing this thing for years, so just type in your favorite movie or TV show or anything else from that time period into the search bar at the bottom, and you're bound to find something that you recognize from your childhood.
This guy seriously has all kinds of amazing shit on his site; he even has old commercials from the 80's on there, and all kinds of bad movie reviews (i.e. funny reviews of really bad movies), so you're likely to find something entertaining, no matter what age you are.
X-Entertainment.com

Random thought:
I was just listening to Brad Pitt on the Fight Club commentary track - he's actually a pretty intelligent guy...

Woody Allen talks about the Academy Awards

"There are two things that bother me about them. They're political and bought and negotiated for, and the whole concept of awards is silly. I cannot abide by the judgment of other people, because if you accept them when they say you deserve an award, then you have to accept them when they say you don't. It's The Green Hills of Africa, that's what it is. You put yourself in their hands as you're judged, and you're flattered, and the next year they say, 'No, you don't get it, Steve McQueen gets it' - and you know you were fantastic. The whole thing goes against everything you've worked for in your life. Also, there's no provision made for comedy and never has been. Consequently, artists like Groucho Marx and Charlie Chaplin and Buster Keaton never win Academy Awards. But it's not fair. Of course, if you're judging Groucho Marx against Death of a Salesman or Streetcar Named Desire, it's wrong. These guys are spectacular artists and they always get kind of stepson Oscars that are voted out of largesse, and that's not right. It bothers me. I wish it was different. I think it would be wonderful if the Academy Awards were truly a spectacular occasion and the awards meant something and glamorous people did them and it was really a step-out night."

(Woody Allen has been nominated for an Academy Award 14 times in the Best Screenplay category - more than any other person. He's won three Oscars - two for writing, one for directing - and has been nominated a total of 21 times. He's never attended the Oscars).

"Last Thoughts on Woody Guthrie" by Bob Dylan

When your head gets twisted and your mind grows numb
When you think you're too old, too young, too smart or too dumb
When you're laggin' behind and losin' your pace
In the slow-motion crawl or life's busy race
No matter whatcha doin' if you start givin' up
If the wine don't come to the top of your cup
If the wind got you sideways with one hand holdin' on
And the other starts slippin' and the feelin' is gone
And your train engine fire needs a new spark to catch it
And the wood's easy findin' but you're lazy to fetch it
And your sidewalk starts curlin' and the street gets too long
And you start walkin' backwards though you know that it's wrong
And lonesome comes up as down goes the day
And tomorrow's mornin' seems so far away
And you feel the reins from your pony are slippin'
And your rope is a-slidin' 'cause your hands are a-drippin'
And your sun-decked desert and evergreen valleys
Turn to broken down slums and trash-can alleys
And your sky cries water and your drain pipe's a-pourin'
And the lightnin's a-flashin' and the thunder's a-crashin'
The windows are rattlin' and breakin' and the roof tops are shakin'
And your whole world's a-slammin' and bangin'
And your minutes of sun turn to hours of storm
And to yourself you sometimes say
"I never knew it was gonna be this way
Why didn't they tell me the day I was born?"

And you start gettin' chills and you're jumpin' from sweat
And you're lookin' for somethin' you ain't quite found yet
And you're knee-deep in dark water with your hands in the air
And the whole world's watchin' with a window peek stare
And your good gal leaves and she's long gone a-flyin'
And your heart feels sick like fish when they're fryin'
And your jackhammer falls from your hands to your feet
But you need it badly and it lays on the street
And your bell's bangin' loudly but you can't hear its beat
And you think your ears mighta been hurt
Or your eyes have turned filthy from the sight-blindin' dirt
And you figured you failed in yesterday's rush
When you were faked out and fooled while facin' a four flush
And all the time you were holdin' three queens
It's makin you mad, it's makin' you mean
Like in the middle of Life magazine
Bouncin' around a pinball machine

And there's something on your mind that you wanna be sayin'
That somebody someplace oughta be hearin'
But it's trapped on your tongue, sealed in your head
And it bothers you badly when your layin' in bed
And no matter how you try you just can't say it
And you're scared to your soul you just might forget it
And your eyes get swimmy from the tears in your head
And your pillows of feathers turn to blankets of lead
And the lion's mouth opens and you're starin' at his teeth
And his jaws start closin' with you underneath
And you're flat on your belly with your hands tied behind
And you wish you'd never taken that last detour sign
You say to yourself, "Just what am I doin'
On this road I'm walkin', on this trail I'm turnin'
On this curve I'm hangin'
On this pathway I'm strollin', this space I'm taking
And this air I'm inhaling?
Am I mixed up too much, am I mixed up too hard
Why am I walking, where am I running
What am I saying, what am I knowing
On this guitar I'm playing, on this banjo I'm frailing
On this mandolin I'm strumming, in the song I'm singing,
In the tune I'm humming, in the words that I'm thinking
In the words I'm writing
In this ocean of hours I'm all the time drinking
Who am I helping, what am I breaking
What am I giving, what am I taking?"

But you try with your whole soul best
Never to think these thoughts and never to let
Them kind of thoughts gain ground
Or make your heart pound
But then again you know when they're around
Just waiting for a chance to slip and drop down
'Cause sometimes you hear 'em when the night time come creeping
And you fear they might catch you sleeping
And you jump from your bed, from the last chapter of dreamin'
And you can't remember for the best of your thinkin'
If that was you in the dream that was screaming
And you know that's somethin' special you're needin'
And you know there's no drug that'll do for the healing
And no liquor in the land to stop your brain from bleeding

You need somethin' special
You need somethin' special, all right
You need a fast flyin' train on a tornado track
To shoot you someplace and shoot you back
You need a cyclone wind on a steam engine howler
That's been banging and booming and blowing forever
That knows your troubles a hundred times over
You need a Greyhound bus that don't bar no race
That won't laugh at your looks
Your voice or your face
And by any number of bets in the book
Will be rolling long after the bubblegum craze

You need something to open up a new door
To show you something you seen before
But overlooked a hundred times or more
You need something to open your eyes
You need something to make it known
That it's you and no one else that owns
That spot that you're standing, that space that you're sitting
That the world ain't got you beat
That it ain't got you licked
It can't get you crazy no matter how many times you might get kicked

You need something special, all right
You need something special to give you hope
But hope's just a word
That maybe you said, maybe you heard
On some windy corner 'round a wide-angled curve
But that's what you need man, and you need it bad
And your trouble is you know it too good
'Cause you look and you start gettin' the chills
'Cause you can't find it on a dollar bill
And it ain't on Macy's window sill
And it ain't on no rich kid's road map
And it ain't in no fat kid's fraternity house
And it ain't made in no Hollywood wheat germ
And it ain't on that dim-lit stage
With that half-wit comedian on it
Rantin' and ravin' and takin' your money
And you think it's funny
No, you can't find it neither in no night club, no yacht club
And it ain't in the seats of a supper club
And sure as hell you're bound to tell
No matter how hard you rub
You just ain't a-gonna find it on your ticket stub
No, it ain't in the rumors people are tellin' you
And it ain't in the pimple-lotion people are sellin' you
And it ain't in a cardboard-box house
Or down any movie star's blouse
And you can't find it on the golf course
And Uncle Remus can't tell you and neither can Santa Claus
And it ain't in the cream puff hairdo or cotton candy clothes
Ain't in the dime store dummies and bubblegum goons
And it ain't in the marshmallow noises of the chocolate cake voices
That come knocking and tapping in Christmas wrapping
Saying, "Ain't I pretty and ain't I cute, look at my skin,
Look at my skin shine, look at my skin glow,
Look at my skin laugh, look at my skin cry",
When you can't even sense if they got any insides
These people so pretty in their ribbons and bows
No, you'll not now or no other day
Find it on the doorsteps made of paper maché
And inside of the people made of molasses
That every other day buy a new pair of sunglasses
And it ain't in the fifty-star generals and flipped-out phonies
Who'd turn you in for a tenth of a penny
Who breathe and burp and bend and crack
And before you can count from one to ten
Do it all over again but this time behind your back, my friend,
The ones that wheel and deal and whirl and twirl
And play games with each other in their sand-box world
And you can't find it either in the no-talent fools
That run around gallant
And make all the rules for the ones that got talent
And it ain't in the ones that ain't got any talent but think they do
And think they're fooling you
The ones that jump on the wagon
Just for a while 'cause they know it's in style
To get their kicks, get out of it quick
And make all kinds of money and chicks
And you yell to yourself and you throw down your hat
Saying, "Christ, do I gotta be like that?
Ain't there no one here that knows where I'm at
Ain't there no one here that knows how I feel
Good God Almighty, that stuff ain't real"

No, but that ain't your game, it ain't your race
You can't hear your name, you can't see your face
You gotta look some other place
And where do you look for this hope that you're seekin'
Where do you look for this lamp that's a-burnin'
Where do you look for this oil well gushin'
Where do you look for this candle that's glowin'
Where do you look for this hope that you know is there
And out there somewhere
And your feet can only walk down two kinds of roads
Your eyes can only look through two kinds of windows
Your nose can only smell two kinds of hallways
You can touch and twist
And turn two kinds of doorknobs
You can either go to the church of your choice
Or you go to Brooklyn State Hospital
You find God in the church of your choice
You find Woody Guthrie in Brooklyn State Hospital

And though it's only my opinion
I may be right or wrong
You'll find them both
In Grand Canyon
At sundown

United 93
(5 stars out of five)
This film had its world premiere at the 2006 Tribeca Film Festival. The story of that first showing goes like this:
United 93 was the first film to deal directly with the events of 9/11, and many people were understandably concerned with how the events would be portrayed. The film premiered at the Tribeca Film Festival in Manhattan on April 25, 2006. After the film ended, the audience sat in complete, stunned silence for the entirety (8+ minutes) of the credits, while many people also wept and sobbed openly during this time. After the last credit rolled and the screen was black, the entire auditorium erupted into thunderous applause.
This is a brave, selfless, and amazing film. I've never "called it" this early before, but this is - in my mind - already the Best Picture of the year. It will take something really, really good to top this one.
I've honestly never seen an audience become so emotionally affected while watching a film. A woman in front and to the left of me was visibly shaking during the end sequence. A man in the aisle across from me started gagging and almost vomiting during one of the more emotionally-disturbing sequences. The theater sat in stunned silence at the end. You could literally hear a pin drop. And the most amazing thing for me - as an avid movie-goer - was that, at the end of the film, everyone in the theater (which was quite packed for a weekday night) sat in their seats through the entire end credits. No one left. In all the years and all the hundreds of times I've sat in a theater, I've never seen that.
Like I said before, this is an incredibly brave film. The reason for this is not because of what writer/director Paul Greengrass (Bloody Sunday) decided to include in the film, but rather because of what he chose to leave out. Greengrass shows almost nothing of the people in the film before the fatal events. No backstory. No character traits. We are introduced to the characters as they board the plane. It's a bold move, and one that you'd think would distance you from the people, but it actually serves to make the story more universal, and more human. Just as an incident of movie violence is usually more affecting when it's not shown onscreen and you're left to imagine it for yourself, the passengers' emotional calls home during the final moments are much more powerful, as you never see or hear the people on the other side of the telephone line. Greengrass has made a decision to simply depict the events as they happened, nothing more, nothing less, and that simplicity translates into devastating emotional effect.
The movie has tried to be as technically accurate as possible, to a maddeningly wonderful degree. Greengrass shoots the entire movie with handheld cameras and minimal lighting, to create a "documentary" feel. The actors are unrecognizable, unknown actors, and even some real air traffic controllers and other people who were involved in the events of that day appear as themselves. Effort was made to cast actors that resembled their real-life counterparts as much as possible, and research was made to learn as much as possible about the personality and characteristics of each and every person involved. More research and interviews were conducted, in fact, to learn exactly what clothing every person wore on that day (or, if that was not possible, what kind of clothing that person usually wore) and the costumes are recreated here. The detail and care that went into this film really shines through.
It's a hard film to watch, but it's an important one. It's easily the first great film of 2006, and the best film of the year so far.

Syriana - The scenes shot at White Marsh

Hey mom, I thought you'd get a kick out of this... These are the scenes in the movie Syriana that I was telling you about - they were shot at White Marsh in Baltimore, MD:

Here, George Clooney's character drives on the highway in Maryland. It's a little hard to make out in this picture (although it is actually really clear on a big theater screen) but if you look closely at the sign above, you will see that the sign says:

Route 147 - Harford Rd

Route 43 - White Marsh Blvd

Route 1 - Belair Rd

So in this scene, Clooney was driving on I-695 South, because if you look at the sign on the right, he's just passing the exit for Route 41 - Perring Parkway.

Then, the camera pans to the driver's seat, showing that Clooney is, in fact, driving the car. (Isn't it funny how nobody noticed him when they were filming?)



This scene has Clooney talking to William Hurt's character in a parking lot. The parking lot is actually the White Marsh Mall parking lot. Look over Hurt's shoulder - you'll see the Macy's store.



In between the two of them in this shot is a big building in the distance. I don't know if you can recognize it, but it's actually that huge hotel that you drive by when you come into White Marsh. You remember seeing that?



And of course, as they walk across the parking lot, you can see the Ikea building across the street!



During the scene, they both end up changing sides and facing the opposite direction. Here, you can see Ikea again between the two guys.



And finally, you can see the Macy's store again in the background, right next to Hurt's head on the right side of the picture. To try to give you an idea of where things are in this scene, the mall has been directly behind them for the entire scene, and in this shot, the mall is directly to the left of where Clooney is standing.

Dave Chappelle's Block Party
(5 stars out of five)
Wow. I went into this film simply to answer a question that's been nagging me for some time: why does everyone like Dave Chappelle? I rarely watch TV, and so I've never seen his show, and I figured, at the very least, that this movie would give me some sense of who this guy was. What I ended up seeing was one of the best depictions of black culture that I've seen in at least a decade. This movie says more about race in 10 minutes than Crash could ever hope to say in its entire running time. But it's not a "race" film as we've come to expect from such a movie... no, it's much more than that. This film celebrates how far we've come all these years, while still making a point of showing how far we need to go. And did I mention that it's fucking hilarious, too? Chappelle's humor is witty, true, and overwhelmingly inviting. Love and happiness flows through the entirety of this picture. What starts out as a great little concert film quickly becomes a funny, touching, and often moving study of the great qualities that can bring many different people together. Even more impressive is the fact that here we have a wonderful, sincere film about the culture of Young Black America in the new millennium, and it's directed by a middle-aged French guy! (Michel Gondry, director of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind). Further proof that sometimes the best films come from the most unexpected places.

I'd just like to point something out here...
I'm going to move on from all of this soon and consider this last year's stuff, but I just want you all to see this, and see how little sense this actually makes:

Best Film awards for Brokeback Mountain:
BAFTA Awards: Best Film
Boston Society of Film Critics: Best Picture
Broadcast Films Critics Association: Best Picture
Dallas-Fort Worth Film Critics Association: Best Picture
Golden Globes: Best Motion Picture (Drama)
Independent Spirit Awards: Best Feature
London Critics Circle: Film of the Year
Los Angeles Film Critics Association: Best Picture
New York Film Critics Circle: Best Film
San Francisco Film Critics Circle: Best Picture
Satellite Awards: Best Picture (Drama)
Southeastern Film Critics Association: Best Picture
Vancouver Film Critics Circle: Best Film
Venice Film Festival: Golden Lion (Best Film)

Best Film awards for Crash:
Academy Awards: Best Picture
Chicago Film Critics Association: Best Picture

What the fuck?...

John Stewart at this night's Oscars:
"In case any of you out there are counting, here's the tally...
[rap group] Three 6 Mafia, 1 Oscar; Martin Scorsese, still zero."

Transamerica
(2 stars out of five)
Writer/director Duncan Tucker's debut feature is a potentially interesting story in desperate need of a better-realized film. Felicity Huffman is wonderful in it. She convincingly plays a transexual with a subtlety that the rest of the film doesn't have. The film is loud and obvious when it shouldn't be and frustratingly undefined when it comes to the supporting characters. The movie is quite simply a mess. It's all over the place. It's horribly edited (drags on forever), clumsily written (same old "road-trip story"), and filled with terrible dialogue (when a character gives an astoundingly out-of-place monologue about the "gay undertones" in The Lord of the Rings, that's when I start to groan). Even worse is the fact that the film itself gets in the way of Huffman's performance: The movie starts out well enough - it starts simply and assuredly, letting the story tell itself and allowing Huffman's performance to shine. Then, the whole comic "road-trip" starts, and the film goes down in flames. There are moments in the very beginning of the film where we are allowed to study Huffman's face and learn what's beneath the surface; sadly, those sort of moments quickly disappear, and it almost feels as if the director has forgotten that he has actors up on screen. He treats them as props, moving them from one scene to the next with no sense of development or character arc. Against all odds, however, Felicity Huffman manages to inject emotion into the film. Much like the way an actor on stage must talk louder for the audience to hear him, Felicity is somehow determined not to get lost in the chaos of the film. She gives it a center, and that's the only reason this isn't zero stars. It's a pity her performance couldn't have been in a better film.

The Best Films of the Year (in order):

Updated, with trailers for each film (click on a film title to view the trailer)

1. Brokeback Mountain
2. The Squid and the Whale
3. Syriana
4. Murderball
5. Capote
6. Cinderella Man
7. Good Night, and Good Luck
8. Saraband
9. Broken Flowers
10. Match Point
11. A History of Violence
12. Walk The Line
13. Rent
14. King Kong
15. Grizzly Man
16. Oliver Twist
17. Proof
18. The Constant Gardener
19. Memoirs of a Geisha
20. The New World
21. Crash
22. Paradise Now
23. Jarhead
24. Munich
25. North Country
26. Junebug

Mrs. Henderson Presents
(2 ½ stars out of five)
A trivial little picture, which wants to be (and often thinks it is) much more than it really is. It stars the insanely overrated Judi Dench, the wonderful Bob Hoskins, and is directed by Stephen Frears (High Fidelity). It's another one of those lighthearted, comedic films that wants the audience to take the dramatic U-turn into serious drama about halfway in. The only problem? The film is so lightweight it almost floats away, with performances that border on caricature, and almost nothing to ground the film in reality. A collection of one-liners and funny banter does not sufficiently develop characters enough to make the transition into a dramatic third act, unfortunately. If you really want to see a film about the power of the theater, see Tim Robbins' wonderful Cradle Will Rock.

Match Point
(5 stars out of five)
It started with Anything Else, continued through Melinda and Melinda, and finally reaches its peak here with this film: the return to form, of Woody Allen. Match Point is Allen's darkest film since Crimes and Misdemeanors in '89, and it's a welcome change from his recent decade-long run in making comedies. Perfectly cast, tightly scripted, and filled with Allen's darkly comic views on faith and humanity, it's probably the most "adult" film he's ever made, replacing the often-neurotic male protagonist of his films with an almost shockingly (at least by Woody standards) confident character. Especially of note is Woody's striking use of slow motion in the film, something he's never used before in his four decades of filmmaking. I won't go into the movie any more. It's best you go into it knowing as little as you can.

The New World
(4 stars out of five)
Terrence Malick is the granddaddy of existential, poetic filmmaking. He's fond of studying the grass on the ground and the leaves on the trees just as much as the characters themselves. He's a strange character: he makes his films for himself, and no one else. He's 62 years old, and yet he's only made four films in his entire career (including the one in this review). After making Badlands and Days of Heaven in the 70's, he retired from filmmaking for over 20 years before returning with The Thin Red Line in 1998. Now, seven years later, comes his new film, which is also the first Malick film I've seen in the theater. It was an interesting experience, to say the least... Now, the audience walkouts for The Thin Red Line are almost legendary (people were expecting a war film, and instead found themselves watching philosophical conversations taking place amid picturesque shots of grass blowing in the wind at sunset), but the walkouts for this film were unbelievable. The theater was filled with a mixture of giggly teenaged girls anxious to see Colin Farrell, their boyfriends who were dragged along with them, and lots and lots of old couples, no doubt attracted to the film by the new TV ads, which compare the love story in the film with Titanic. So, as you can see, not quite the audience for this film. The movie starts off quickly enough, but about a half hour in, I saw the first walkout. The reason? The movie is one of the slowest-paced films in recent memory, with the movie's 2 ½ hour running time feeling more like 3 hours. It's not a problem for me; I actually enjoyed the film. But it is definitely - just like The Thin Red Line - not a film for mass audiences. Periods of 10, 20, even 30 minutes go by without a single line of dialogue spoken. There is a wonderful sequence, about 20 minutes long, that is simply one huge montage with a voiceover, nothing more. There are probably less than fifty actual lines of spoken dialogue in the film; almost the entire film is in voiceover, with the characters having inner monologues. People had no fucking clue what to make of this movie. I'm not exaggerating when I say over half of the people walked out. I will admit it - the film is a little long. A good 20-30 minutes could have been trimmed. But what we have here is decent. At least it wasn't longer than it is... Malick is famous for shooting hundreds of thousands of feet of film, and this movie had four editors - a sure sign that some major trimming was going on (The Thin Red Line's final runtime was 3 hours - cut in half from its original six hour running time). Sure, it drags a little bit. But there are real moments of beauty and honesty present, not just in nature, but between people. The acting is quite good. Newcomer Q'Orianka Kilcher is a revelation! I'd love to see her get a nomination, but this year is really crowded and this film was mostly ignored. A Malick film is famous for its photography, and this film is no different. Roughly half of the film was shot on 65mm as opposed to 35mm, and it really looks magnificent. Look for a cinematography nomination for this. So in summation, this is a film that is better than what most people will tell you. Just give it a chance. And lots...and lots... of patience.

Brokeback Mountain
(5 stars out of five)
In a year of great movies, this tops them all. This is my pick for the best film of the year… it is truly an amazing, AMAZING film. This is a film that fearlessly dares to break down walls and barriers, without looking back and without apologizing. This is a film about love, friendship, and the importance of human tolerance and understanding. It makes the love between two men as potent and beautiful as any other romance you’ve seen on screen before, without sacrificing truth, and avoiding the pitfalls of stereotypes that would normally hinder such an on-screen relationship. Everything you’ve heard about the film is true: it is just as striking, poetic and moving as everyone is saying it is. Possibly even more. Ang Lee (The Ice Storm) directs the film with patience and stillness, and the film deserves an audience willing to give it that sort of attention as well. The cast is excellent, with (of course) special mention going to the two leads, most of all Heath Ledger. It’s a little overlong near the end, but fuck it… it doesn’t really matter. It’s one of those films where it has given you so much throughout the film, that you’re willing to give it as much time as it wants from you. A great movie, and one of the most important films of the decade.

Memoirs of a Geisha
(4 stars out of five)
Steven Spielberg was, at one time, in negotiations to direct this picture. The directing duties eventually went over to Rob Marshall (Chicago) who did a decent job with it, although his relative inexperience (this is only his second feature, and his first was a musical) is apparent from time to time. No, the biggest problem with the film is something that not even Spielberg could have overcame: being an American production funded with American dollars, there's no way the producers would have poured so much money into something that wasn't in the English language... So here we have a film, set in Japan and with Asian actors, who all speak English instead of Japanese. It's a strange thing, and it just feels wrong... but there's nothing that could have really been done about it, unless it was a Japanese production from the start. Nevertheless, the film is beautifully shot, and the actors do amazingly well with conveying emotion in a language that's foreign to them. I still wonder, however, how much more powerful it would have been if the actors had spoken their language instead of (sometimes quite awkwardly) spitting out English. Oh well...
I'm pretty tempted to give this another half star, as it really was very well done and truly packed a punch, but this is one of those films where the story was so amazing, that it could have been done by pretty much anyone with at least decent results... I'm not so sure how much of Rob Marshall was in this film, and how much he really had to do to make it work. Most of the scenes in the beginning have a feeling of a lack of passion for the material... it almost feels like someone else picked up the movie from that point on...or maybe it's because you end up getting into the story and forgetting how lazily directed everything is... either way, the reason why this film is as good as it is...well, it's not Rob Marshall.