It seems as if documentary film has decided to take on a certain surprise element... we'll see how much longer we can continue to recreate Catfish.

Finally something creative is happening in horror:

1 continuous shot La Casa Muda

Oscar Wrap Up

The second least memorable Oscars goes to...The 83rd Annual Academy Awards. The Academy's attempts at expanding demographics left an odd hybrid that fell somewhere between the drunken mess of the Critics Choice and the vomit-inducing MTV Movie Awards.

Anne Hatheway's sweet demeanor ultimately clashed with James Franco's quiet and subtle humor to produce more awkward moments than pithy wit. I expected a lot out of this duo and I think unfortunately their on-stage chemistry fell short and James will be receiving a fair amount of criticism come tomorrow morning. That being said, there were moments when I saw this year as a step forward from the stuffy atmosphere of your typical Oscar night. However, a medium clearly has yet to be met.

In sum, most awards were entirely predictable. All technical and acting awards ended up in hands of the front runners. I say this not to discourage the achievements and celebrations of films who exhibited technical excellence this year (like the Social Network's poignant score, or Inceptions complex sound mixing), but to highlight what will and will not survive conversations beyond the water cooler tomorrow. So here it is, my list of winner and losers:

1. God of Love: For the first time, I managed to make it to the Best Live Action Shorts. The promising batch of shorts were weighted down by heavy themes and chilling dramatic action (key ingredients to making that feature film happen). Except one. God of Love, the last film screened in the series, was like a spirited fresh breath of air. Reeking of NYU film student living in Brooklyn, the short basked in the odd looks of its writer/director/star. Despite it's somewhat flat plot and ironic overtones, it managed to reassert life into the regular batch of dramas dished out by the Academy Awards. And honestly, I walked out of there saying there's no way it would win. So, to my surprise when the goofy-faced Luke Matheny comes barreling down from way back (clearly seat assignments didn't think he'd be winning either), I was actually overtaken with joy. For in that moment, to be a struggling film student winning an Oscar, it was pure glory in the face of the stuffy pomp and circumstance of the Academy Awards. So kudos, Luke, we'll be looking for you at Sundance.

2. The Kings Speech. I'm not saying I didn't enjoy The Kings Speech, I really did. Much more than I thought I would. And Colin Firth's lovely little speech was deserved and touching. However, as a film to mark a moment, and a year, it ultimately fails. (Almost more than the Hurt Locker, which I had to actively stretch my brain to recollect!) As another period piece takes home the Best Picture, the Academy fails to open up their show and their nominees to a wider range of films and extended demographic. They add 5 films to the Best Pictures to combat this very problem. And sure, Toy Story and Inception got nominated, but it's all essentially moot when the best picture ends up to be the historical drama of individual hope. The Social Network as a cultural document would have ultimately marked this year as one distinct from any other; giving weight to their attempts at breaking free of their old bonds in favor of film erected as a reflective of the current historical moment. Will we look back on The Kings Speech in a year? Maybe. In ten years? Absolutely not. Will The Social Network be fodder for generations fifty years from now to over analyze this period? Yes. I suppose you should just join the ranks of Raging Bull as Spielberg says. (Also, wtf Tom Hooper?)

3. Documentaries! I think what we've all forgotten in the rush between The Kings Speech and The Social Network is that this was really the year for documentaries. Quite frankly the best race was between 5 films that I'm sure almost none of the general public saw, but were a buzz across critics and cyberspace. I think we need to just take another moment to remember those films, for we may see them survive well beyond the shelf life of Inception or The Fighter. Note to the future awards: celebrate the little people. If we had seen more rep for the docs, shorts and technical awards out there, I think this show can really turn-round.

3.5. I suppose I should also take a moment to say that the awards did a great (all be it predictable) job of awarding the technicians who made this years' batch of films incredible. This was also the year for film celebrating visual style and formal merit. Inception would not be what it was if not for the brilliant sound mixing and editing. The Social Network would not have been nearly as enjoyable or effortlessly smart without it's perfectly-timed editing. And even Alice and Wonderland; I would have probably demanded my money back if not for the whimsy of their costumes.

All in all, I'm not impressed. That is not to say that they were more of snooze than last year's forgettable flop. But this was certainly one of the messier shows we've seen in a long time. I cannot say if this is good or bad. One one hand it could be a sorry attempt at masking oneself as something you're not. On the other, it could simply be a tinkering transitional period, one that promises a new vision of the awards in the new future. Maybe they've just got to get the chemistry right to inspire viewers across generations.

Since when did Kirostami start making wistful romantic dramas? Shouldn't they just be shouting at each other in a car?

Paranormal Activity on the moon!!

moving forward and standing still?

So, Oscar nominations were released this morning and were essentially the predictable bunch of folks that have been making the rounds all month. However a few interesting little twists arose at the crack of dawn this morning; here are my surprises:

1) Two of my favorite people of the year didn't make it into the running for Oscar gold. Christopher Nolan's absence from the Best Directing category makes me wonder what sort of game these people are playing. Look, I understand he's been put up in Original Screenplay and the Best Picture category, but why snub him in directing? To make way for David O. Russel? (Who, just because your entire cast got nominated, doesn't mean you automatically deserve a nomination, Lee Daniels.) Additionally, a member of my favorite young cast is missing: Andrew Garfield. His heartbreaking performance has been earning him a nod at just about every award ceremony out there, but the Oscar fuddy-duddies have snubbed him in the Best Supporting Actor Category. Look, no one actually thinks he'll win (after all, Christian Bale lost a ton of weight and played a drug addict this year), but the brilliance of the Social Network's bright young cast deserves to be recognized. Sure, they may have done the right thing and given a nod to True Grit's Hailee Steinfeld, but they are not making progressive steps to disband their "old boys club" reputation.

2) No Blue Valentine love? The film only received one notable nomination for Michelle Williams in the Best Actress category. Her counterpart Ryan Gosling was passed up in favor of James Franco's equally disturbing performance in 127 Hours. Though this film wasn't going to receive any nods in the technical or writing categories, I thought for sure it would be a shoo in with the move to 10 nominations for Best Picture. Quite honestly I could do without 127 Hours up for the best of the year.

3) Perhaps the most purposeless and perplexing oversight came in the form of Inception passed over for Editing. It almost felt arbitrary for me; sure, lets give 'em all the other categories but not editing just so we don't tip the scales and have an action movie as the most nominated film of the year? I don't want to sound like this is some big conspiracy against mainstream cinema amid the artistic prestige of the year, but let's be honest, Inception was one of the best things out there. It's been dry, and we all deserved to have a little fun and shouldn't feel bad about it.

4) Finally a nod for Javiar Bardem. Finally.

I'm not quite sure what to do with this year's list of nominations. In relation to this year's odd mix of triumphs and typical fair, it's hard to see any logic or reasoning behind a number of their choices. It felt like they gave up: sure, lets just give the Coen Brothers the most nominations, and The Kings Speech a strong second. They're classic films that "deserve" to be recognized. And all this is to be expected (every. single. year.), but why throw in some deserving nods and hold back on others? Is this an attempt to appease all? I get that you're trying to be hip, Oscars, by nominating Tron Legacy and Inception, but a clear overview on this year's best films seems to be muddled in this crowd-pleasing process. Figure it out, Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences. You'll never be the cool, hip parent with traditional values.

why, God, why?

snooze cruise

I have a pretty strong love-hate relationship with the Golden Globes. On the one hand they are complete crap: annually a shameful celebration of Hollywood money-making and a sad-excuse for honoring TV and film's markers of excellence. On the other, they give me someone to blame for all the recognition that these pathetic money-grubbing whores have received for the last twelve months. Quite honestly, I really sort of enjoy yelling at the television while the Hollywood Foreign Press Association doles out a dramatically undeserved award to the biggest blockbuster of the year (see 2010).

But this year it was all so predictable. I have nothing to talk about! Beyond the drama surrounding their poor nominations and the recent scandal, the actual award show turned out to be quite tame. The Social Network rightfully dominated the major categories, Colin Firth took home his age-old gold, and Glee triumphed with all it's heartwarming family-friendly speeches. Nothing shocking. Nothing to yell at. Nothing to even keep me interested. Where was Sean Penn when we needed him? (see last year's Oscars. And the one before that.) Why couldn't someone have stormed out? (see Dreamgirls) I didn't even get a genuine weeping speech. I hate the Golden Globes for yet another reason. And I am once again asking myself why I watch it in the first place. But I know I can't resist. Because Sean Penn is still out there, and Christian Bale might just punch someone if he doesn't win.

Here's to hoping for more alcohol at the SAG awards. Till then, someone had better begin to break Oscar nomination rules.

critical crap part 2

So the first award show of the season has finished for the evening and I'm trying to remember what damn awards they even gave out. I spent two hours watching awkward celebrities pretend to laugh at terribly scripted jokes. Where were those technical awards? Oh yeah, they just handed them all off to Inception mid-show to save time.

Now I will give the Broadcast Critics Association one thing: they managed to pull it together a bit towards the end. Sorkin and Fincher got their respective nods (Good call, David, choosing to opt out of this one), Firth gave his quasi-eloquent speech, and we had our two reigning films. Quite honestly they had me scared for bit: I though Black Swan might go in for a sweep (I shutter to think). Portman got her argueably rightful win (glad to see her gaining a bit more weight by the way), but I fear that the real motivation behind that one was the fact that VH1's audience has no clue who the hell else any of those nominees are.

In sum: cringe-inducing variety spectacular.
Last question: Who the hell thought it would be a good idea to fore go the host in favor for the cast of Jackass 3D acting out the most famous movie-moments of the year? So much more breath could be wasted on this one.

critical crap part 1

So I'm approximately an hour into the first major award show of the season, and I'm awfully confused. You see, VH1/MTV conglomerate, you already have the MTV Movie Awards which chooses to make an absolute ass of itself around June of every year. So why this crap? It's sort of like one cruel joke for all those award nominees who'll be bumping elbows and sipping champagne through January and February. I mean, they've got Steven Spielberg and Geoffrey Rush locked in a room listening to the Kardashians attempt to compare this year's excellent selection of documentary films to their own sad excuse for entertainment. Sorry ladies, no one actually believes you sat through a documentary. And don't get me started on Maroon 5's presence as the "in house band." It all feels like one tacky Bar mitzvah.

Oh and how I have yet to begin on the winners tonight. I'll attempt to restrain myself, but since when is inventing a Best Action film category a real way to make up for the fact that Dark Night wasn't nominated for that Best Picture Oscar? And Best Comedy? Jesus fucking christ. I'm not sure how many d-list star award announcements I can take, but I've nearly reached my boiling point. (And this fact is incredibly unsettling considering the Hollywood-fest I have in store with the Globes on Sunday). I'm not sure how this is going to play out but I suspect an unfortunate progression towards victory for Avatar (posthumously). Because frankly this shit has pathetic train wreck written all over it.

And now I'm watching Quintin Tarantino accept an award he deserves but should never accept. This is my hell: watching sweaty, disgusting, coked-up Tarantino babble on about his "craft." I swear to god I feel you right now, Steven.

yes yes yes yes yes.

cinematic eloquence

Walking into The Kings Speech I quite honestly expected your typical Oscar-fair: the biopic, littered with character drama in one civilized and tidy affair. Frankly, I thought I was walking into The Queen Part 2: The Prequel. And while this film holds dear to the markers of Oscar-bound cinema, it cannot simply be put away in a dusty category with the royal biopics of film history.

Now I'd like to keep my comments terse and to the point, like the film itself. Though this film may ultimately end up filed away with the rest in the near future, I'd like to comment on the modernity of this particular piece. For The Kings Speech embraces cinematic language to correct the spoken stutter of a former leader. The most striking use of cinematography I've seen this year, the film's odd framing and gentle, rich color palette creates a psychological experience beyond the simple narrative. Voice is brought to life through the camera, which freely moves about, fragmenting the body in attempts to understand the origins of voice both physical and metaphorical. And though understanding may never be met, it is through the camera, matched with careful dialogue, that creates a brief look into the powers of speech and audience.

Finally, Colin Firth's performance cannot go without mention. For all the film-trickery in the world cannot create the film's depth of insight when we are fundamentally centered around an individual's tale. The piece is ultimately a biopic, and Firth's masterful performance brings voice and frustration alive. The brutal close-up keeps us both distanced and connected with "Bertie's" boundless frustrations, and it is Firth's painful stutter that continues to draw us in, creating the never-ending tension that surrounds the film. It is going to be an extremely close Oscar race for Best Actor this year, but I'll reserve my predictions for another day.

3 reasons why I didn't hate Tron Legacy

I've had a lot of time on my hands lately. Typically I'd be spending my break catching up on the various award contenders for the coming season. However this years' sorry batch of nominees has been proving dull and few and far between. So I had some time to see Disney's rehash of the 1980's cult classic aptly titled Tron Legacy. This film was sort of setting itself up for loathing; it had the classic trifecta of cinematic sin: 3D, patented Disney family melodrama, and car chase action. And it may have been my heavy dose of decongestant and the delusional sick stupor I was in upon viewing, but I actually found myself enjoying this movie. It was by no means a "must see," something I will remember beyond this week, or a particularly unusual movie, but something allowed me to just sort of experience the whole thing for what it was: a sensorial dip into cyberspace. So after much contemplating and careful reading of the side effects of my over-the-counter medicine, I've come up with a few choice praises (along with some complaints, as usual) for the kid-friendly techno-romp:

1. 3D done right for once. Everyone should know by now that I'm refusing to give into this 1950's 3D revamp. And up until now, I have yet to see a film (Avatar included) that truly benefited from the excessive visual trickery. However, Tron's cyber world, lit in neon lines and ghostly trails, manages to create a world of contrast entirely defined by our three-dimensional visual relationship to space. Here, lines and light extend space beyond our often-flat 3d viewing experience to create an infinite city perfectly crafted for the twenty-first century technology driven world only imagined by the original's creators. It overtly contrasts this world to that of our own, shot entirely in 2D, which ultimately restricts the methodological uses of 3D to the world of technology, expertly extending this digression to the movie industry's obsessive dimensional extension for any action/horror/comedy/children's movie out there. Here 3D is reserved for the other worldly; the complex and indiscernible cyberspace only real to the extension of Jeff Bridges' mind.

2. Daft Punk as composers. Enough said. Why hadn't anyone thought of this earlier? (Though I will say they often encroached on Inception- like reverberating booms.)

3. Not a lot of acting. So often, the downfall of many Disney family pics is the assumption that their half-bit new face actor can actually manage to hold the screen and the drama for an hour and a half. Tron, which was make no mistake, heavy on father-son melodrama and monumental life speeches, managed to keep it contained to relatively short interludes. Even as we retreat from "the grid" to Jeff Bridges' dojo, 2001: A Space Odyssey-esque sanctuary, we keep the family drama to a minimum. The whole motion of the plot is really more dependent upon the classic phrase: "actions speak louder than words." So it becomes one grand gesture after another, feats for young Sam to prove himself, and ultimately set up a nice and tidy little end open to future franchises.

These three points are not to say that the movie was without faults. My third point really extends itself to the core problem of the movie: the dialogue. The cyber mumbo-jumbo justification and explanation of this world were half-baked (literally. we have Jeff Bridges circa The Big Lebowski) attempts at giving deeper meaning to the experiential action fluff that the movie really is. Acting fell short, with Disney's typical casting of a boy band look alike, forced to carry the weight of the movie on his shoulders. But, like I said, they seemed to steer clear of too much work for the young talent. Instead they let the fantasy of this space take over, allowed for the technology to showcase itself, rather than the other way around. I'd in the end say give it try if you're looking for a holiday escape. It's certainly short (thank god) than last years' head-ache producing reproduction of Pocahontas, and doesn't involve any awkward tail-connecting tree sex scenes between animated creatures. However, do be warned that this is something to been seen in the theaters only. It is not a movie that will translate onto the small screen or any attempt at reproducing the 3d experience in your own home. So if it strikes your fancy, get the hell up and get out there.

golden garbage

The 2011 Golden Globes have already proven to sink lower than ever before. After handing out the Best Picture Drama statue to Avatar last year, it looks like they're looking for a repeat starring all the Hollywood garbage that has littered the screens in the last 12 months. From Burlesque's confusions nomination to True Grit's obvious snub, it looks like all we'll be looking forward to is Aronofsky's pervy homage to girl on girl sex and violence and the flash of Johnny Depp and Angelia Jolie's star power.

matrix meets speed meets terrorist paranoia? meet source code.

genre-mash-up-to-the-max

wait. what?

childhood.

I sucame to the epic sweeping camera with a fancy wide angle lens. For years I have resented the fancy footwork that is aligned with a gratuitous Michael Bay pic, but as the fiery cars exploded in IMAX highdef as Hagrid swooped Sirius' flying motorbike into a busy London tunnel I could not help but return to those naive sensations associated with one's first action film or classic car chase.

I am so fucking jaded most of the time. Honestly, it takes a lot to make me cringe, gasp, jump or even stir nowadays. But this film, bringing an end to an era that has defined the last fifteen years of my life, literally caused me to digress as a filmic viewer. The Harry Potter film franchise took little liberty with Rowling's original tale. Allowing the most indulgent first-part finish to the seven part series. For two and a half hours we relish in the intricacies of the seventh book, leaving behind those without prior knowledge or careful attention to the elegant development of the narrative. And at this point, if you don't know what's going on, get the hell out my theater. Harry, Ron and Hermione venture off into the wild (or incredible landscapes of the United Kingdom countryside) as full-on adult wizard, without a trace, without Dumbledore, and frankly without a clue of what to do. Relishing in Nazi imagery and heavy-handed visual reference to the Holocaust, this is a dark and dangerous world; and frankly full-on PG-13. But what all the Hollywood and Hogwarts magic added up to was a pretty clean film. It was polished in the most mainstream of sense, carefully interweaving the expensive sweeping helicopter shots with the constructed handheld camera work when the going got tough. Sure the narrative, to the unknowing viewer, may leave some explanation to be desired, but for the fan, for the child who never received their Hogwarts letter, it was as close to narrative justice and we're going to get. We can't go back and fix the mistakes of the past 6 films (cough, Goblet of Fire cough) but we can have this one.

So as I began to point to at the beginning of my eulogy to the last twelve years of my life. the cinematic polish and flash of the film combined with loyal narrative adaption allowed me for just a few flickering moment to return to a naive viewing position. One where the mesmerized child took hold to derive pleasure from the Hollywood glitz and glam that now makes my stomach churn and have even come to resent. I was ten years old again. Watching a film I'm not quite old enough to see. And completely absorbed, nostalgic and sad at the same time. It was almost too much. Shit. We'll see what the final part brings...

Blair Witch 2

The internet and fan phenomenon that was Paranormal Activity has cloned itself. I was witness to a similar scene last night, nearly deja vu, as I sat in a crowded movie theater full of loud and excited college students. We had all "demanded" this. However the spirit that was internet buzz, which had previously spurred the release of the first film, was all together lack luster on this Wednesday evening. The over-baring "security" that prevented us from "texting or twittering" about anything in this "secret" horror pic, only added to obnoxious energy of the room. It was your typical young horror film viewing experience: boys who think it's funny to scream out at the audience and chatter throughout the film. And this probably would have bothered me if I actually cared about what was going on.

Boy was it slow. The shaking hand held camera work of the first, which had so uncomfortably left me out of control of the image, was replaced with 5 stagnant security images. The second actually serves as a prequel to the first, revealing the logic behind the demon hauntings of the first. We get the story of Katie's sister and the birth of her first born son as the demon attempts to take what his rightfully his at a glacial pace. And of course, as we moved from night to night, the film attempted to build the unpleasant tension of the first film. And it took 11 nights before a damn thing happened. It was so slow that the midnight screening time in conjunction my sitting position was begging me to close my eyes and doze as the audience (right-on-cue) stirred and buzzed with each nightfall. Once the action finally started, it was an over-the-top version of the first film. We were allowed to linger on action for far too long, as our own logic of reality was allowed to overtake any fear we might have. It then took a turn towards Quarantine as the night vision was switched on and the hand held kicked in. Whatever. Been there, done that twice now.

Here's the problem: I don't give a shit why Katie was possessed. Nor do I particularly care about her sister, her nephew or her brother in law. So when they all meet their inevitable death (don't even try to accuse me of spoiler alert), we just don't care, and we're so tired from the popcorn digesting in our stomachs and amount of time we've spent in the dark, that we just want the whole thing to be done and over with. Stop trying to recreate a distinct moment in internet/movie history. It's neither going to happen, nor ever be the same. This ain't no Transformer's 3.

Paranormal Activity 2 learned absolutely nothing.

I'd like to think my post-grad life will be different. Probably not:
Tiny Furniture