Cinema Hype

We’ve spoken here before about talented, respectable actors who make bad movies. Every actor has a few in the old IMDB entry, right? It happens. We try to ignore those little bobbles. But what happens when we end up actually seeing those movies? What happens when, heaven forbid, we actually like them? It’s embarrassing. We do not share that information with our friends when they ask whether we’ve seen any movies lately. We keep quiet.

The current crop of theatrical releases has a few of these potential disasters/winners for me, and it’s all because of a couple of actors I like. In one sense, I pride myself on being able to spot a bad movie without actually seeing it. As soon as I’ve stopped bragging, though, I realize that the recognition of a bad movie really doesn’t mean I won’t show up at some matinee somewhere (in an unfamiliar neighborhood, of course, so as to not run into anybody I know as I’m slinking in to see Stomp the Yard). I’m loyal, and I imagine I’m not the only one. You know who you are.

To start, I have serious reservations about Catch and Release. For one thing, it has post-hipster Kevin Smith; furthermore, Sony shelved it for a year after shooting, which is generally not a vote of confidence from the higher-ups. But, what, I’m supposed to skip a Jennifer Garner movie? I mean, yes. There was Dude, Where’s My Car? There was Daredevil, followed by Elektra, which I believe even she knew was not her finest hour. But she’s Sydney Bristow! She’s Jenna Rink, for goodness’ sake! What do you want from me?

I have similar feelings about Because I Said So. Do I think we need more movies with Diane Keaton as the neurotic mother? I do not. Do I think we need more movies with Mandy Moore showing up at all? I do not, even more. But I do think we need more movies with Lauren Graham, whom I firmly believe is one of the most underrated actors in Hollywood. Aside from consistently excellent work on seven seasons of Gilmore Girls, she’s spent the last decade playing small roles in terrible movies, and I’m happy to show up anytime she gets to do something besides be Keanu Reeves’s sickly girlfriend. So although I’m even more dubious about Because I Said So than I am about Catch and Release, I intend to show my support.

I make no promises, however, about throwing or not throwing popcorn at Mandy Moore. Sue me.

Catch and Release, Because I Said So, Jennifer Garner, Lauren Graham

My parents saw the stage production of Legally Blonde this weekend. This is kind of a new thing, isn’t it? The adaptation of films to the stage? We’re used to the other way around; that’s how we got Chicago and Evita and Tim Burton’s upcoming big-screen version of Sweeney Todd. But somehow we’re now seeing films–mostly romantic comedies–musicalized and brought to Broadway, with apparent success. I’m not entirely sure what makes a film a good candidate for a stage adaptation, but I’d like to propose a few ideas for some musicals of my own:

Dude, Where’s My Car: The Musical! Please keep your parking-garage ticket with you at all times.

Big Daddy (Jon Stewart would totally come back and reprise his film role, no?)

Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back on Stage! Featuring the songs “%)*&*% Munchies” and “……….(Silent Bob’s Theme)”!

The Sixth Sense: Feel the Dead! With a moving number by former New Kid on the Block Donnie Wahlberg! For a limited time only!

Twister: The Musical! Critics have been blown away by the score! See it today!

musicals, Legally Blonde

Once the era of silent film ended, the movie industry swung far to the other extreme as song and dance became all the rage in pictures of the day–they were doing choreography. It’s no surprise that the first talking picture to win Best Picture was not just any talkie, but a musical as well: The Broadway Melody, a dramedy about two sisters making their way on the Great White Way.

The Broadway Melody, which premiered the song of the same name as well as “You Were Meant For Me,” seen later in Singin’ in the Rain, is the story of sisters Hank and Queenie Mahoney, whose parents must not have liked them very much. The two are best friends, fresh-faced and game for anything when they arrive in New York, but soon find themselves wrapped up the harsh world of show biz, and fighting over a man, to boot.

To modern eyes, the “love triangle” is problematic: in 1929, the situation might have seemed heart-rending; today, it’s hard to work up much sympathy for any of them. Eddie Kearns (Charles King) is, by today’s standards, something of a weenie, which doesn’t help the audience to feel much for either sister. Surely two ambitious, pretty young women on Broadway could find somebody with a little more…character to his character? Kearns is helpful as a coattail on which the girls ride into town, but somehow the sense of real emotional attachment is tenuous at best.

Obnoxious love interests aside, the movie’s pretty good–it’s an equal mix of drama, musical numbers, and that brand of comedy that comes off as pure non sequitur today, but may have worked more intentionally at the time. Anita Page gives a particularly good performance as the ingenue-ish Queenie, who’s not the brains behind the Mahoneys’ operation, but becomes famous anyway. It’s about sisterhood and independence, doing what’s right in the moment and doing nothing right, and realizing it later. In all, it feels like a product of the pre-Depression period, all caught up in the glamor of 1020s New York, but tempered with a bit of a cautionary tale about the rough folks in show business.

The upshot: A little quirky (trust us about the non sequiturs), but good, especially the climax.

Project 501, Oscars

As usual, the rules: The first person to comment with the character, actor, and movie that contains that quote gets a special eyelash batting and a tailor-made Cinema Hype cheer, which might even rhyme.

This week’s offering for your enjoyment:

“Hell in a hand-basket? ”
“No, we… can’t train a cat that quickly. And…”
” Not enough people!”

Good luck. Number thirteen, shnumber shmirteen.

The movie Borat is like the film equivalent of meeting your in-laws and bringing up both religion and politics before the soup course is over. It’s a divisive movie: either it’s the funniest, most honest film ever made about America, or it’s offensive to, well, everyone, and shouldn’t be shown in public, ever. There is passion surrounding Borat. There’s no middle ground. You’re either trying to Q-tip him out of the corners of your brain, or you’ve taken to hanging around hotels, looking for a naked person to chase (naked).

Well, I’m here to provide that middle ground.

Here’s the deal: Is Borat an interesting concept? Ordinary Americans unknowingly reacting to a nutty stranger? Yes. Can Sacha Baron Cohen act? Yes. Is Borat a good movie? Technically, no. There’s a “plot” and a series of scenes that are too short or too long, and some kind of resolution tacked on to the end. Is it funny? Yes. Will it make your eyes and ears bleed? Again, yes.

It’s a tough film to call: there’s plenty to snicker over, but there’s also the overwhelming sense of relief that the matinee down the street only cost me $3 and eighty minutes of my life. I laughed: Borat keeps a chicken in his suitcase and he’s obsessed with Baywatch. It’s funny. But so much of the humor is so startling, so cringe-worthy, that it’s sometimes hard to enjoy. More than anything, Borat is over the top–it’s dazzling in its crudeness, its riotousness, and the seamlessness of Cohen’s performance. There’s something to be said for a movie that enthralls just by being so fearless. On the other hand, sometimes it’s hard to tell whether the movie is good, or whether it just refuses to let us look away. In all likelihood, it’s a bit of both.

The upshot: See it at your own risk; you might love it.

Borat, Sacha Baron Cohen

I win! I win!

We had some good guesses this week, but nobody quite got there, so I can keep my curly hair ribbons and perfectly white cheer shoes in the closet for now. Dude, I knew I should have been perkier in high school.

The correct answer was Anthony Anderson in last year’s Hustle and Flow.

Stay tuned for a brand-new Quotation Sensation on Friday.

You know what we need more of in this world? Math movies. We need more films adapted from nineteenth-century math-based novellas. Don’t you think? And I think more of them should have characters voiced by actors who play the President of the United States.

Oh! Oh my! Looks like I’m in luck! And this is going to be…in…theaters?

Flatland trailer with
talking polygons: strangely,
so mesmerizing.

(Seriously. Watch it.)

The award shows just keep multiplying, don’t they? They’re like bunnies. (Incidentally, my Tivo now thinks I love award shows, and records eighteen copies of whatever it can find to fill my insatiable need: BET awards, the Country Music Awards…whatever.) Oscar nominees were announced Tuesday; the line-up looks pretty standard, with perhaps a few surprises and many, many not-surprises.

CH will offer commentary, predictions, and cool-headed analysis in the coming weeks; for now, we’ll just offer a hearty congratulations and a little bit of advice to Abigail Breslin, who’s up for Best Supporting Actress and possible membership in the Temple-Paquin Young Oscar-Winner’s Club: Just Say No To The Beret. Got it?

Oscars, Abigail Breslin

Looking at the list of nominees for the Golden Globes back in December, I found myself focusing on the Best Supporting Actress in a Motion Picture category. Four of the five nominees were serious ack-tors, women who surely could have expected to win (Sorry, Beyonce! You understand, don’t you?). But I found myself disappointed. These women could play those roles in their sleep, I thought. The performances were strong, certainly: there was not a stinker in sight among Meryl Streep in The Devil Wears Prada, Renee Zellweger in Miss Potter, Annette Bening in Running with Scissors, and Toni Collette in Little Miss Sunshine. But when it comes to awards, how do we quantify a strong performance that isn’t an obviously transformative one?

It’s not that any of those actors phoned their performances in, or that they put less than the required amount of effort into their roles. I’m sure there was thought and emotional preparation that went into those performances, and according the HPFA, the resulting work was worthy of an award. But haven’t we seen Streep as villainous-but-vulnerable before? Does Zellweger have to work especially hard to be spirited (accent notwithstanding)? And does it matter? What should go into the equation for an award-winning performance–do the difficulty of the role and the talent of the actor be considered factors?

When a role is dramatically different from an actor’s usual persona–Charlize Theron in Monster, say–the extra challenge usually wins the actor brownie points, and maybe an awards-show victory. This is where the theory of “uglifying” for a role began, as beautiful women started taking physically unattractive roles and then watching their careers take off. If a role is clearly a stretch, a makes sense. It’s the less flashy, truly “supporting” roles that come into play here: What makes a performance good, if an actor isn’t required to use his or her full range?

What do you think, readers?

Well, that was lovely. Delightful, even. Like a Sunday-afternoon picnic in Hyde Park, one might say. Would you like some tea? A crumpet? Excuse me; my petticoats are showing.”

How was that?

I’m sorry. I’m just practicing for my inevitable trip to the Lake District. Now that I’ve seen Miss Potter, I’ve fallen in love, and I have to go. Best to sound like a local (in 1902), right?

The movie really is delightful, though, in the way that films about children’s literature often are (see Neverland, Finding)–there’s something about the spirit of much-loved stories and the people who told them that is fresh-faced and honest, even when things don’t go quite as expected (in fact, they rarely do; perhaps that’s what makes them so brave). In this case, Renee Zellweger does a fine job as the spirited but encumbered Beatrix Potter, children’s-book author, conservationist, and all-around woman-ahead-of-her-time.

The first half-hour of the movie feels a little superficial–like a character study without the character–but it turns out that the plot and heart of the film don’t start until later, with the arrival of Norman Warne (Ewan McGregor) and his snarky sister Millie (Emily Watson). It’s in those relationships that we really get to see Beatrix in action and understand a little of what she stands for; Norman and Millie become the center of her professional, social, and emotional lives. With their arrival, the characterization of Beatrix immediately grows deeper, and Zellweger’s performance responds accordingly. In many ways, Miss Potter a stereotypically English movie–even the emotional highs and lows are measured–but its mildness doesn’t make it boring. Instead, it’s a simple, honest, charming film.

Delightful, indeed.

Miss Potter, Renee Zellweger, Ewan McGregor, Beatrix Potter

As usual, the rules: The first person to comment with the character, actor, and movie that contains that quote gets a special eyelash batting and a tailor-made Cinema Hype cheer, which might even rhyme.

Have at it:

“There are two types of people: those that talk the talk and those that walk the walk. People who walk the walk sometimes talk the talk but most times they don’t talk at all, ’cause they walkin’. Now, people who talk the talk, when it comes time for them to walk the walk, you know what they do? They talk people like me into walkin’ for them.”

Documentaries are a funny thing. Often, documentary films start with the decision to pluck something ordinary out of obscurity: New York City schoolchildren learning to dance, say, or a trip to the American Crossword Puzzle Tournament. Documentaries show events that are already past. Only rarely does a documentary coincide with something momentous and new. The new film God Grew Tired of Us is one of those times: it chronicles the journey of the “Lost Boys,” four young men (out of thousands) orphaned by war in Sudan and brought to the United States to start a new life. It’s been five years since the Lost Boys arrived in the U.S., but the war that brought them here continues. This is no novelty piece for the past; it’s a call to action in the present.

God Grew Tired of Us:
heartbreak in Sudan and hope
in America.

When I think of 1920s cinema, I think of small things. I think of films that are short and silent and feature men in ragged suits walking off of chairs; in my mind, there are no 1920s epics. In my mind, I am wrong.

Wings, the first winner of the Academy Award for Best Picture, is a true–albeit silent–epic. The story of two young men who meet in flight school and go off to World War I as flying aces for the U.S. Air Force, it’s a big movie: long, sweeping, full of extended action sequences. Cecil B. DeMille must have been out of his mind with jealousy. There’s nothing terribly complicated going on, but there’s a little something for everybody: devoted friendship on the part of Jack (Buddy Rogers) and David (Richard Arlen); a plucky girl-next-door (Clara Bow); the camaraderie and horror of fighting in World War I; and long, elaborate battles (narrated with separate narration screens). It was the first movie to feature aerial photography, and director William Wellman used the technology to its fullest advantage: even now, the shots feel expansive, and at a time when air travel was limited, audiences must have appreciated the views even more. So: epic.

Besides the size and sheer scope of the movie, there’s an actual story in there, which is what stands the test of time (after all, the technology will fade; it’s just the characters and the plot that remain). I went in expecting a true war movie–all battles and strategy–and was pleasantly surprised at the care taken with character development and the chemistry between the actors. Arlen and Rogers are movie stars of the variety produced by the early-cinema studio system: easy, charismatic, and ridiculously, dazzlingly handsome. They work well together; the whole thing has the feel of weathering the war with two old friends, watching them grow and mature.

In short…Wings is a good movie. Good choice, Academy voters! Let’s keep this up, shall we? Only, um, seventy-nine years to go.

Next up: The Broadway Melody (1929)

Watching awards shows at my house is the best. Really. I mean, there’s a couch, there are these really comfortable slippers, there are snarky comments, there are…okay, actually, that’s all there is. But, obviously, CH Headquarters are the place to be for all things Globe-y. And since I can’t just keep everyone on the phone while I watch, I thought I’d try to replicate the experience as much as possible. Just try to imagine us on the sofa of your choice with a huge bowl of popcorn between us. It’ll all come to you, I swear. So without further ado, CH watches the Golden Globes:

Way to start with The Clooney. He doesn’t even need a co-presenter. Everyone wins!

Jennifer Hudson, I don’t know you at all, but I like your acceptance speech very much. Congratulations, you.

The “Best Song” category is always weird and jarring, because the pop songs they play over the credits are always weird and jarring.

Dude, Justin, way to stand there and look awkward. They don’t call you Mr. Smooth for nothing, do they?

I’m sorry, but being Miss Golden Globe has to be embarrassing. “I’m not nominated for anything, I’m not really in anything, and you only know me because of my parents, but I sure can wear a flesh-tone dress!”

I only love Kyra Sedgwick because she was in Heart and Souls with Robert Downey, Jr.

Aww, Sarah Paulson lost. I mean, obviously. But still.

“I am speechless. I am literally without a speech.” Hugh Laurie, I’m charmed.

If Emilio Estevez wins any kind of major award for Bobby, I will just die. Die, I tell you. Isn’t he off in Minneapolis, coaching a down-on-their-luck hockey team?

I work down the street from Pixar. Do you think John Lasseter would give me a CH Exclusive? One where I wouldn’t have to make up both sides of the dialogue?

Meryl Streep wins! Jaws everywhere…don’t drop. Way to rock the dress and glasses, Meryl. Dorothy Parker would have dug you; also, Tina Fey.

I’m happy for Eddie Murphy. The 90s were rough on him, I think.

Hey, Cameron, have you ever seen Firefly? Love the dress.

What? Ugly Betty over The Office and Weeds? I love America Ferrera a lot, but…*sniff* You can’t handle the truth.

Hugh Grant, for future reference, I recommend that you wear a hat when you ride in a convertible. I believe you’ve seen Bridget Jones’s Diary?

America (Ferrera), can I be your best friend? We will have sleepovers and eat popcorn and talk about boys, and it will be excellent.

Sacha Baron Cohen, I’m still trying to Q-tip your movie out of my brain, but you completely deserve this award, and not just because Ken Davitian sat on your face. Just so you know.

Dreamgirls. Did I call it? I called it. CH represent, yo.

That guy made a movie about soul music in the 1960s? I guess if a Cambridge graduate can create a movie about a Kazakh moron, I should just shut up now.

Filliam H. Muffman! That’s all I have to say about that. Oh, except that I love her enormous dress.

….Forest Whitaker? Really? Am I in the right place? Also: Eat that, Leo! Heh.

Oh. Oh, my. Is that….? Is that….my governor? That’s….a little embarrassing.

Babel. Eh. I wish I could roll my Rs like Inarritu, though. I bet I know what kind of potato chips he eats.

Oh. Arnold, you did not just say that. YOU’RE THE GOVERNOR. Stop with the impressions of yourself, or I’m moving to Nevada. Don’t think I won’t!

One down, one to go. Well played, all.

Golden Globes, Sacha Baron Cohen, America Ferrerra, Meryl Streep, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Jennifer Hudson

Before we get far into this whole awards-show-season business, I feel that it’s only fair to confess something: I am a bad-luck charm. I’m like an interfering signal, cutting off all hope of victory for anybody in my path. I make professional sports teams lose, just by showing up for the game. My political voting record is terrible. And nobody I choose ever wins at entertainment awards shows. Don’t vote with me, or your picks will clearly lose.

That said, Cinema Hype would not be very hype-y about cinema without a few awards predictions. Silence does not become me. So, acknowledging that my choices will likely not be approaching the podium tonight, I offer CH’s choices for the 2007 Golden Globe awards:

Best Motion Picture - Drama:

Babel
Bobby
The Departed
Little Children
The Queen

CH Pick: The Departed
I’m at a bit of a disadvantage here, having (somewhat embarrassingly) not seen several of the choices. To some extent, this category is also comparing apples and oranges: what kind of comparison can we really make between The Queen and The Departed? I’m giving Martin Scorsese the silent treatment until he refunds the three hours I spent on Gangs of New York–hours I could have spent doing something, anything, else–but I’m working on letting go of that grudge.

Who Might Actually Win: Babel or The Departed

Best Motion Picture - Musical or Comedy

Borat
The Devil Wears Prada
Dreamgirls
Little Miss Sunshine
Thank You For Smoking

CH Pick: Dreamgirls
If this were a movies-I-want-to-watch-over-and-over-again contest, Little Miss Sunshine would win, hands down. Let the record reflect that the CH staff has nothing but affection for Olive Hoover and her family. However, I can’t in good conscience pick LMS for Best Picture: while I love it personally, there’s a looseness to the screenplay–a pacing thing, maybe–that keeps me from nominating it. I like the size and elaborateness of Dreamgirls; also, I wasn’t totally wild about Borat, Prada or Smoking. Dreamgirls it is.

Who Might Actually Win: Dreamgirls or Little Miss Sunshine, if the foreign press is feeling indie-friendly this year

Best Director - Motion Picture

Clint Eastwood - Flags of Our Fathers
Clint Eastwood - Letters from Iwo Jima
Stephen Frears - The Queen
Alejandro Inarritu - Babel
Martin Scorsese - The Departed

CH Pick: Well, who knows? Do I really want to vote for Scorsese? It’s like voting for the most popular girl in school to win Homecoming Queen. Not that Eastwood is exactly president of the chess club, either. I’m going out on a limb and saying Inarritu, even if I can’t make my keyboard spell his name correctly.

Who Might Actually Win: Eastwood has the statistical advantage, but Scorsese’s Scorsese. What can you do?

Best Performance by an Actress in a Motion Picture - Drama

Penelope Cruz - Volver
Judi Dench - Notes on a Scandal
Maggie Gyllenhaal - sherrybaby
Helen Mirren - The Queen
Kate Winslet - Little Children

CH Pick: Helen Mirren?
I’m feeling a little Sophie’s Choice about this category; in my opinion, it’s the toughest field at this year’s Globes. With the possible exception of Cruz, each of these women would be my pick–were the others not present. Despite my personal mission to promote all things Winslet, I suppose I’m going to have to go with Mirren, since I actually forgot during The Queen that she wasn’t…well, the Queen. Tough race, though.

Who Might Actually Win: Mirren, though a Celebrity Death Match between her and Dench might be entertaining.

Best Performance by an Actor in a Motion Picture - Drama

Leonardo DiCaprio - Blood Diamond
Leonardo DiCaprio - The Departed
Peter O’Toole - Venus
Forest Whitaker - The Last King of Scotland

CH Pick: DiCaprio
I would love to be able to say Forest Whitaker, but DiCaprio has the Eastwood statistical-advantage thing cornered. I predict The Departed.

Who Might Actually Win: DiCaprio. They like him so much, they’re just looking for movies he’s in, just so they can nominate him. Or something.

Best Performance by an Actress in a Motion Picture - Musical or Comedy

Annette Bening - Running with Scissors
Toni Collette - Little Miss Sunshine
Beyonce Knowles - Dreamgirls
Meryl Streep - The Devil Wears Prada
Renee Zellweger - Miss Potter

CH Pick: Meryl Streep
If the Drama field is flush with potential winners…what happened here? (Also, I question the placement of both Running with Scissors and Miss Potter in the Comedy category, but that’s a whole different post.) Collette is always lovely, but her character in Little Miss Sunshine is the only one without a major plot thread. This one’s going to be death match between fine actresses playing not-particularly-challenging roles, I think.

Best Performance by an Actor in a Motion Picture - Musical or Comedy

Sacha Baron Cohen - Borat
Johnny Depp - Pirates of the Caribbean 2: Dead Man’s Chest
Aaron Eckhart - Thank You for Smoking
Chiwetel Ejiofor - Kinky Boots
Will Ferrell - Stranger Than Fiction

CH Pick: Sacha Baron Cohen
This is a quirky field, full of good actors being slightly underused (particularly Depp). My inner geek keeps prodding me to vote for Ejiofor, just because the thought of The Operative winning any kind of award is so exciting, but Cohen does a seamless job in a demanding role. Props to him, and a note to please keep his clothes on next time.

Who Might Actually Win: Cohen or Depp, as an apology for gypping him last time

We at CH know that everybody’s planning on watching the Globes straight through, beginning to end, no bathroom breaks. Right? But just in case you do need to wander away and blow your nose, CH is here for you. We’ll be providing the completely play-by-play (on West Coast time; sorry, we’re powerful, but we can’t bend time [yet]). So fear not! Wander as you like! CH has your back.

Golden Globes