Cinema Hype

So…what one might call “CH Official critical thoughts on the Golden Globe Awards” might actually just be “me making catty remarks about celebrities.” But there you go. Like you wouldn’t do the same, were you, you know….watching. Sarcasm: it’s the grumpy man’s wit.

On with the show!

- Uh, wow, Sting. Can we introduce you to Cast Away-era Tom Hanks? I feel like you guys might have a lot to talk about. I’ll just go get my time machine.

- The Jonas Brothers: “We’ve never seen so many celebrities in our lives!” By which they mean, since they watched last year’s Golden Globes…in the womb.

- I completely love Drew Barrymore’s gown. But when did the Grey Gardens remake become an HBO thing? Probably for the best, really. You can’t fictionalize this stuff:

- Aww, Kate Winslet, you are adorable, and I suppose that if I won double Golden Globes for being utterly dramatic, I’d never be in any comedies either. Did you take Cute Speech lessons from America Ferrara?

- Nobody is surprised by Mickey Rourke, I suspect, except maybe Mickey Rourke, which is the most charming thing of all.

- This is not a cinema thing, per se, but I am so happy for (writer/Doyle from Gilmore Girls) Danny Strong’s success with Recount. He just makes me happy, okay?

- Renee Zellweger: Sharon Stone called. She wants herself back.

- I LIKE YOU TINA FEY AND I AM ON THE INTERNET. PLEASE GIVE ME A JOB AND BE MY BFF. SIGNED, LIZ AT CINEMAHYPE.

Oh, Golden Globes. You are…less interesting than you think. But hey, thanks for showing up this year.

Golden Globes, awards, Sting, Tom Hanks, Kate Winslet, Renee Zellweger, Sharon Stone, Jonas Brothers, America Ferrara, Danny Strong, Mickey Rourke, Drew Barrymore, Grey Gardens

Well, this is awkward: for a brief period on Thursday, the Hollywood Foreign Press Association website labeled Anne Hathaway as the winner of the not-yet-awarded Golden Globe for Best Actress in a Motion Picture (Drama). The HPFA immediately removed the result and then backpedaled, claiming that the citation may have been wrong. Nobody knows whether the mistake a) was actually a mistake, or b) will change anything about Sunday night’s results.

anne hathaway, anne hathaway golden globe, golden globes

In the mean time, Hathaway is presumably practicing both the Ecstatic Speech-and-Cry as well as the Respectful Gaze of the Graceful Loser. As well she should.

I went to one of those chain haircut places today, and let me say: It did not go well. I’m 3,000 miles away from Official CH Hair Guru Melanie, and, well, sometimes a girl needs to have her bangs trimmed, you know? I was starting to look like Black Beauty. So I go in and ask for a bang trim, which is somehow interpreted as “please give me an entirely new hairstyle while you’re at it,” and five minutes later I’ve got artsy (I believe the word she used was “piecey”) bangs. HOW DID THIS HAPPEN? Oh, to have a Life Rewind button.

But, you know, far be it from me to pass up a real life/CH life connection, so today we’re talking hair. Bad hair. Perplexing hair. Hair that just…shouldn’t. I give you the CH Top Five Most Perplexing Haircuts, after which I will be making a long-distance howl call to Melanie.

Javier Bardem, No Country for Old Men:

Dorothy Hamill never knew the terror her bowl-cut would inspire in the future, did she? It’s a cliche to even comment on it by now. But, well, here we are.

Amanda Bynes, Hairspray:

I can never figure out exactly what’s going on here: there’s the puffy top, and the pigtails, and then if you look at the back (Google Images was no help here), there’s a kind of French-twisty thing added to the mix. I don’t know. Penny Pingleton is my favorite character in Hairspray, and I like to think that she gets her hair figured out now that she’s all liberated and living it up with Seaweed J. Stubbs. (Hee, Amanda Bynes and Allison Janney. “Was your mom a sailor?”)

Tom Hanks, The Da Vinci Code:

Tom Hanks has done some heinous things to his hair—his personal appearance in general, really—over the years (remember Cast Away?). But this one’s just such a head-scratcher: is the short mullet now the academic’s haircut of choice? Is he trying to look younger? Is he trying to evoke the Hero with the super-emphasized Batman-signal hairline? Audrey Tautou’s flight-attendant do isn’t much better, but come on. I throw up my hands at you, Tom.

Tom Cruise, Mission: Impossible 2

Remember this phase, before all the madness? (What am I saying? This haircut was madness.) It was just so unfortunate, so midlife-crisisy, you know? Better to stay with the clean-cut military-man thing, I say, and stop trying to convince us you like to climb rocks without a rope. (Actually, I just really love this photo of Tom Cruise and Unnamed Japanese Man.)

Colin Farrell, Alexander

What is he, one of the Wakefield twins‘ boyfriends?

bad hair, bad movie hair, javier bardem, no country for old men, amanda bynes, hairspray, penny pingleton, allison janney, tom hanks, the da vinci code, audrey tautou, tom cruise, mission: impossible 2, colin farrell, alexander, wakefield twins, sweet valley high

Yesterday was a magical day in movieland: if the day after Halloween is (these days) the capitalist kick-off for Christmas, yesterday was the beginning of the pre-pre-pre-Oscar season. I’m talking, of course, about the Golden Globe nominations, which came out Thursday morning. This is it, movie-wise, for this year. All the big stuff’s going to come in one big flood of pretense and (hopefully) excitement. So if you’ve been waiting for all the really good movies to come out—if you’re one of those “if you see one movie this year…” people—this is your time. Go forth and view!

Of course, quite a few of the nominees haven’t even been released yet. What’s a blogger to do? Rather than give my final, systematic predictions now, when so many of the nominated movies haven’t hit theaters, I’m erring on the side of a) knowing what I’m talking about (enjoy it while it lasts) and b) nonchalance. You know, commenting only where comments are warranted, like everyone else.

Like so:

- Kate Winslet’s doubled up on nominations; she’s up for Best Actress (Drama) for Revolutionary Road and for Best Supporting Actress for The Reader. Good news: Winslet rules basically 100% of the time. Bad news: Winslet hasn’t cracked a smile on camera since 1997. Maybe Jack’s death really stuck with her, you know? Or maybe she just wishes she’d hung on to that necklace.

- In Bruges? Was that this year?

- Speaking of, Colin Farrell up for an acting award? This, I’ve got to see.

- I see where they’re going with the whole nominating-Mamma Mia! thing. I get it. It was fun; it was successful; everybody liked it. I liked it. If it wins Best Comedy or Musical, SOMEBODY’S GOING DOWN.

- Since when is The Joker a supporting role in The Dark Knight? That was his movie, guys, and I’m pretty sure a certain someone would back me up on that.

- Tropic Thunder for—count ‘em—two acting awards? And yet, I totally see it. I’d vote for Tom Cruise if it wasn’t so futile (see above). He was the best part, and I say that in full awareness that my man RDJ was also present.

- This critic is maybe possibly really really excited about Frost/Nixon. OH MAN political drama written for the stage! (I’m sorry. Did you think I was cool?)

- Sometimes it’s just the same folks over and over, isn’t it? Sigh.

More to come. In the mean time, have a good weekend. See a movie for me, will you?

Golden Globes, Golden Globe nominees

So, say you’re a sweet little girl, a beauty-pageant contestant who only wants to do right by her recently-dead grandpa. No, wait. You’re a working mother of three whose house has just been partially crushed by a piece of a passing airplane, and you’re having just a little bit of stress at home. Or maybe you’re just a cowboy running from a serial killer (you know, as you do). It doesn’t really matter. Whatever the situation, this much is sure: Beth Grant does not like you.

I hear you. “I don’t know any Beth Grant,” you say.

Yes, you do. Beth Grant is the kind of “Hey, it’s that guy chick!” that keeps on giving—she’s everywhere, she’s been everywhere, and she’s going to be everywhere (nine movies in 2009, according to the Source of All Knowledge). We at CH can hardly think of a character actor with as much satisfying ubiquity and the same kind of consistent casting: who else specializes in the disapproving, the judgmental, and the rural, and plays them all with such palpable glee? We at CH love her sense of humor—absent in her characters but always present just below the surface—and the fact that her career is on an upswing. Because, really, who doesn’t love the condescending and the downtrodden, when they’re packaged so perfectly?

Here are some of the highlights of (occasionally sympathetic) Grantian disapproval:

Rain Man: Grant first appears in a major motion picture here, playing the illustrious “Mother at Farm House.” A lot of her roles are of this variety: Laundry Lady. Waitress’s Mother. Motherly Secretary. Or else she’s Lil, Loretta, Dorene, or Cora Mae. You could name a whole passel of Depression-era orphans after this filmography.

Donnie Darko: If you’re familiar with Donnie and his family (and if you aren’t, get thee to Netflix), you’re already thinking of best line in the movie, and arguably in her career. Say it with me, now: “Sometimes I doubt your commitment to Sparkle Motion!”

Little Miss Sunshine: Pageant Official Jenkins refuses to let Olive Hoover into the Little Miss Sunshine pageant, thereby gaining the hatred of Olive fans everywhere. Casting directors take notice, apparently; film sightings of Grant go way up from this point on. Apparently being a vindictive shrew pays off. (Who knew?)

No Country for Old Men: So maybe the inherent disapproval in this role is a little bit justified. Daughter takes up with potentially shifty cowboy and, without really saying anything explicit about it, ends up running from the scariest man of 2007. We’ll give her this one: maybe Carla Jean should have just stayed home.

So that’s it. That’s how you build an extensive filmography spanning three decades, with the work only flowing faster as you age. You glare, make implications, and leave in a huff. And if you do it just right, everyone will hate/love you for it. Point taken.

Beth Grant, Rain Man, Little Miss Sunshine, No Country for Old Men, Donnie Darko, character actors

If you’re into thin girls doing drama, October is a good month. Lots of pouting, lots of longing looks, lots of passion and perhaps personal growth going on in theaters right now, as two very different movies with two (frankly) not-that-different women compete for audiences’ attention.

The new-ish Keira Knightley vehicle, The Duchess, is apparently expected to do well with the costume-drama/Masterpiece set, which is perhaps a bit of a surprise—or am I wrong in thinking it’s a bad takeoff of (the already bad) The Other Boleyn Girl? Have we not seen enough of the pre-Victorian costume drama in recent years, or at least developed some sense of scale and quality? I wonder. Rachel Getting Married, on the other hand, is Margot at the Wedding meets Pieces of April: loose-cannon relative (Anne Hathaway) causes drama at family wedding while also possibly experiencing personal epiphany, and it looks like a possible winner.

It’s all turning my film world upside down, frankly. I’ve never had a problem with Knightley, while I’ve only lifted my longtime ban on Hathaway after her remarkably normal and articulate appearance at WonderCon this year. And here I am, digging on Hathaway’s grown-up-ness even as I wish Knightley would ditch the bustle and corset for awhile. Maybe I’m the one growing as a person? Or maybe Hathaway is simply becoming an adult actor while Knightley sinks deeper into the period-drama rut.

It’s not that I’m looking forward to Hathaway in a family-wedding drama; in fact, much of the Rachel trailer feels recycled from a decade’s worth of indie my-family-is-weirder-than-thou dramas. But I’m excited by what I see from Hathaway here: a genuine edge, an acerbic quality we haven’t seen from her before. Maybe sarcasm is her hidden gift. Maybe I’m just happy to see her doing something. Anything. Anything, that is, besides radiating actorly self-consciousness while flaunting her enormous eyelids and tiny waist. It’s hard to say. But it’s not hard to say that I’m more into Hathaway in a hoodie than Knightley in Marie Antoinette’s shoes.

The Duchess is already in theaters nationwide; Rachel Getting Married is currently in limited release and will expand to wide release soon.

Anne Hathaway, Keira Knightley, The Duchess, Rachel Getting Married, trailers

Have a seat, son.

Do you know why I want to talk to you today?

Yes, I thought so. You see, son, your body is changing, and I’m sure this must be a very confusing time for you. But I want you to be clear about one thing: this is puberty, and you cannot stay here forever.

You’re 21 now. You can drink alcohol if you want; more to the point, you can play characters who can drink alcohol, and we dearly wish you would. You can stop trying to get that cute junior girl to make out with you in some kid’s bedroom while his parents are out of town. What are you doing at a high-school party in the first place? What I’m saying is, I know you have to revert back to being George Michael Bluth next year—and far be it from us to stand in the way of one last sweet moment with the Bluths—but really, you’ve got to stop playing George Michael, aka Paulie Bleeker, aka Evan, the sweetest goody ever to wear two shoes. You’ve got to move on.

The other thing, son, is that you’re not just an actor anymore. You’re a writer, and you’re not working in obscurity like the rest of us. The pieces you write actually make it to the studio, and then they get made, and not by people you recruited at some friend’s party. I think when you’re writing shorts for David Cross and Patton Oswalt and having them actually show up to be in your movie, you have officially passed the point when you can pretend to be the world’s tallest and wealthiest tenth-grader. Do it for us, Michael. Do it for the people who want to be where you are. Be an adult.

Are you afraid, son? Do you think the shine will wear off once you admit that you do, in fact, shave? We have faith in you. We think you can do it. We think you are smart enough and talented enough to become a man, even if it means a few nebbishy parts in overmarketed Judd Apatow movies. All you have to do is stop making movies like Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist—which may in fact be a fine movie, but that’s beside the point—and start exploring new avenues. We want the best for you; we just think you could do a little more.

It’s the facts of life.

Any questions?

It’s not often that A-list actors purposely take a page from the book of Eddie Murphy after, say, 1993, and by “not that often” I mean “basically never.” Rightfully so: niche market notwithstanding, the era of Norbit and the Klumps has not been kind to Murphy’s career, and most actors with sentient agents would try just about anything to avoid the “Starring Eddie Murphy…Eddie Murphy…and Eddie Murphy!” treatment.

Which is why it’s doubly hilarious that one of this decade’s most self-serious actors is doing precisely that: apparently, Russell Crowe plans to play both Robin Hood and the Sheriff of Nottingham in the upcoming Ridley Scott vehicle Nottingham.

Um. What? It’s unclear what this means for Nottingham—is this a move towards postmodernity for Robin, like the portrayal of Bob Dylan by multiple actors in I’m Not There? Are we questioning the identity of Robin and the Sheriff? Maybe it’s a Harvey Dent/Two-Face situation, inspired by The Dark Knight: the Sheriff becomes Robin Hood after some kind of wronged-justice situation, or vice versa (in which case I’d keep close tabs on Maid Marian, for she is certainly marked). Maybe it’s a case of mixed identity: the good guy is the bad guy is the good guy (which may explain why the good guy keeps getting away). I don’t know. There are a million ways this could play out, and any one of them could end up being entertaining, if not super-serious. (That’s the key here. Attempts at sternness will be soundly mocked by audiences worldwide. Take note, Scott and Crowe, and don’t say we didn’t warn you.)

Maybe he’ll also turn up as Maid Marian. Now that, I’d pay to see.

ETA: Apparently Maid Marian is to be played by Sienna Miller. Heaven help us.

Found via Cinematical.

This weekend, the world got a little less handsome, a little less philanthropic, and maybe a little less nutritious. Paul Newman’s passing from cancer at the age of 83 marks the end of a career punctuated with generosity, both onscreen and off.

Though he first appeared on the big screen in 1954’s The Silver Chalice, Newman came into his own in the late 1950s and worked well and consistently for the rest of his life. In the 1960s and into the 1970s, he completed the red-blooded American male triumvirate started by Marlon Brando and James Dean, imbuing even his least moral roles with a likeability that transcended even the intentions of the script, as in Hud. “When a role is right for him, he’s peerless,” the film critic Pauline Kael wrote in 1977. “Newman is most comfortable in a role when it isn’t scaled heroically; even when he plays a bastard, he’s not a big bastard — only a callow, selfish one, like Hud. He can play what he’s not — a dumb lout. But you don’t believe it when he plays someone perverse or vicious, and the older he gets and the better you know him, the less you believe it. His likableness is infectious; nobody should ever be asked not to like Paul Newman.”

Later in life, Newman supplemented the tremendous goodwill garnered by his acting by making a line of healthy and healthy-ish salad dressings and snack foods, then donating 100% of the profits to charity. His daughter, Nell, will continue to run Newman’s Own, and ostensibly extend the philanthropy begun by Newman.

RIP, Paul Newman. You’ll be missed.

Sometimes, when you’re trying to make a tough decision, they say it helps to make a pro/con list (and by “they” I mean “Rory Gilmore,” but don’t knock it ’til you try it). You know, you put all the good things on one side and all the not-so-good things on the other side, and see which side is longer. The gurus at Wordpress haven’t yet come up with a column function, but I’d like to experiment with the pro/con game as it pertains to an upcoming movie: The Soloist.

So let’s see, shall we?

Pro: Robert Downey Jr. as Los Angeles journalist Steve Lopez, he of the personal angst and ultimately uplifting story. You know how I feel about the RDJ; still. If anybody can bring something new to this archetype (see below), it’s him.

Con: We’ve seen this movie before. Seemingly okay person stumbles upon definitely less-okay person; less-okay person displays astonishing gifts in music/sports/academics/underwater basket-weaving; seemingly okay person attempts to help less-okay person and ends up changed for the better. The End.

Pro: We’ve seen it before, but that doesn’t make it less true.

Pro: Joe Wright directing. I love what Wright does with a camera; his eye for image and motion and his tendency to include little visual jokes make him one of my all-time favorite directors. America and the present day are each new territory for Wright, filmwise; how he makes L.A. onscreen is anybody’s guess.

Con: Susannah Grant. Grant is a seasoned screenwriter—in other words, the person I perhaps should not criticize, as she has my job—who consistently writes movies I almost like: Catch and Release, Ever After, In Her Shoes, and so on (I grant exceptions for Erin Brockovich). If she can keep things moving and find the originality in The Soloist, things might work out between the two of us after all. If not…well, there you go.

I think that’s a tentative win for the pros. I’ll keep you posted.

So, it’s official: I will watch Robert Downey Jr. in basically anything. Romantic comedy with ensemble cast of displaced spirits romping around San Francisco? Check. Obnoxiously good post-modern noir mystery? Check. Big-budget comic-book adaptation with sardonic, crime-fighting playboy in metal suit? Check. Vietnam War/Hollywood metafilm comedy, in blackface? Double check. (Ally McBeal? Check. Oh, Larry Paul, you and your melancholy snowman! [...I know. Sorry about that.])

It’s really too bad about Tropic Thunder, though. It’s too bad the risk of it didn’t fully pay off, too bad Ben Stiller still hasn’t totally recovered his mojo, and especially too bad that so many funny moments are sprinkled in among such long stretches of boring crap. This was supposed to be Stiller’s redemption after the string of not-great movies over the past five years or so, especially since he directed and co-wrote it (along with Justin Theroux, who doesn’t appear in the movie but probably should)—proof that a truly funny and possibly incisive comedy came out of his brain might have strengthened a lot of people’s wavering enthusiasm for him, including my own. And it’s frustrating, because the comedy is definitely there…when it’s there. Other times? Less so, and anyway, even the funny parts might have fallen flat in the hands of a less ridiculously talented cast.

Ah, the cast. Thank goodness for all that talent. The most obvious winner here is my man Downey, who plays a white Australian playing a black American, and pulls it off like he’s not even trying. Even better is—POSSIBLY SURPRISING CASTING SPOILER AHEAD!—Tom Cruise, whose bald, foul-mouthed, bespectacled, hip-hop-loving performance should earn him at least a 16% rise in the (theoretical Hollywood) approval ratings. Remember when Tom had a sense of humor about, well, anything? (To be fair: Did those days actually exist, or is this just a fabricated memory?) It’s good to know he’s both able and willing to appear onscreen in anything less than epic, and to know that he still takes roles that give him something to do. I didn’t think I’d ever say this, but: Kudos, Tom. You make the movie, kind of. And then there’s Nick Nolte, who for all we know is just playing himself; Matthew McConaughey, who tore himself away from Kate Hudson and her star-breaking habits to actually be funny; and Stiller himself, who actually does a pretty good job. The only disappointing moment here, casting-wise, is Jack Black, who does a fine job with what he has, but is sorely underrepresented.

I think Tropic Thunder was supposed to be the new Zoolander (high praise at CHHQ; we love our gasoline fights), but somehow missed the mark by not having enough: enough plot, enough interesting characters, enough funny stuff, even though the existing funny stuff is really funny. It should have been better. Note to self: Next time, see Hamlet 2 instead.

Once, years ago, I heard a critic (now lost to time and memory) questioning the wisdom of casting Gwyneth Paltrow as Sylvia Plath. Paltrow, he said, wasn’t exactly a bad choice, but she wasn’t the best choice, either. There was something about rage, about finding an actor who could embody the spark of angry madness that drove Plath to her tragic ending. And this I remember: this critic said there was simply one actor in all of Hollywood who could make a convincing Sylvia Plath, and that actor was Julia Stiles.

Well, fast-forward five years, and this guy’s got his wish, kind of. Stiles’s next project is an adaptation of Plath’s semi-to-mostly-autobiographical novel, The Bell Jar, about a Smith College student who undergoes a mental breakdown while interning at a Manhattan fashion magazine. Despite her rather bland presence in the Bourne Whatever movies, Stiles is a pretty good choice–she’s smart and she’s a reasonably good actor, and odds are she’s actually read The Bell Jar at some point, or at least heard of it. Thumbs up from CHHQ.

It’s hard to tell exactly what’s going on with the movie itself—IMDB lists a 2008 release date, but there’s no other cast listed, and I’m fairly certain Esther Greenwood isn’t the only character we’re going to meet (or, at least, I hope not). And, not to be a Debbie Downer, or anything, but writer Tristine Skyler’s filmography frankly doesn’t inspire much confidence. But hey, everybody’s gotta have a breaking-in story, right? It’s not like I’ve written any published episodes of Law and Order: Trial by Jury. So maybe I should just shut my stupid mouth now. What I’m trying to say is: dark-horse writer, no cast except for Stiles…but let’s keep up hope, shall we?

Or am I overstepping my bounds? Does hoping go against the Plath way? We can at least look on with expectation, or something. Prove us wrong, Bell Jar. We dare you.

Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar, Julia Stiles, Gwyneth Paltrow, Esther Greenwood, Tristine Skyler

When you watch the preview for The House Bunny, you’ll probably think to yourself, “I’ve never seen that girl before.” You’ll probably be wrong. Brokeback Mountain? Lost in Translation? If you’ve seen these, you’ve met Anna Faris. And it’s about time we all remembered her name: if anybody deserves to move onto the A-list, it’s probably her.

Mildly condescending trailer aside, this movie might be a star-maker for Faris. The script comes from Karen McCullah Lutz and Kirsten Smith, the pens behind Legally Blonde and 10 Things I Hate About You—chick-flick classics, both, and rightly so. And maybe we’ve seen this schtick from them before—swap “Playboy bunny” for “sorority girl” and “sorority girls” for “Harvard Law,” and you know where we’d be—but maybe an extra be-all-that-you-can-be girl movie isn’t the worst thing in the world. And unlike some other chick-flick writers I could name, these writers’ affection for smart young women of all stripes (alterna-girl, sorority sister, athlete, whatever) leads me to believe that surely this movie will be funny, happy, possibly thoughtful, and less preachy than the trailer editors would have us know. And their movies tend to be career boosters for actors of a certain caliber. I’m sure Reese Witherspoon and Julia Stiles would agree.

And then there’s Faris herself. You wouldn’t know it, but this woman’s a character actor wrapped in the body of, well, a Playboy bunny (ironic!). Her filmography is long and mixes heavy hitters like the ones mentioned earlier with a parade of goofy teen movies—from which she steals scenes like nobody’s looking. For prime Faris silliness, check out Just Friends (I’m going to assume most of you haven’t seen it; don’t worry, it won’t bite, and might actually kind of crack you up). You’ll see her talent, her ease onscreen, and her attention to the details of being ridiculous—exactly the traits that could and should make her incredibly famous. The House Bunny doesn’t look extreme, but it looks like material that she can work with, and maybe that’s exactly what she’s been waiting for.

Congratulations, Anna Faris.

Anna Faris, The House Bunny, Just Friends, Paris Hilton, Brokeback Mountain, Lost in Translation, Kirsten Smith, Karen McCullah Lutz, Legally Blonde, 10 Things I Hate About You

According to the AP, Morgan Freeman was injured in a major car accident today when his car flipped on a rural road in Mississippi. The Freeman camp says he’s more or less okay—he reportedly suffered a broken arm and elbow, as well as some shoulder damage—and for that, many people behind the camera and in front of the silver screen must be grateful. We at CH wish him fast healing and good spirits.

And not to be morbid, or anything, but I’ve been thinking: What would the (fictional) world be like without Morgan Freeman? Is there anybody who does more stuff in more movies than he does? Who’s more of a jack of all trades for the big and small screens? For one thing, I guess we’d be out of luck where God’s concerned. Who else wears a white suit with such compassion and authority? Nobody would have driven Miss Daisy. Tim Robbins might still be in prison, with no music over the loudspeaker to soothe his soul. Who would have taunted Clint Eastwood into training a scrappy female boxer? Certainly nobody would keep Batman as gadgeted up as Freeman does as Lucius Fox. Jack Nicholson would have failed to experience true friendship and remained friendless and alone. And, of course, the world might go completely unnarrated without his gently powerful voice to guide us through it. This sounds like a sad world, indeed. Don’t you think?

All this to say: speedy recovery, Morgan. Where would we be without you?

Morgan Freeman, car accident, Morgan Freeman car accident, celebrity news

Okay, everyone. Let’s get something straight. Just in case nothing in the last eight years has tipped you off—you’ve been in a bomb shelter, or trapped under something heavy, or whatever—the 1990s are officially over. Gone. They took their cloud of Gap khakis and enormous cell phones and went home. How do we know we’re in a new decade? A new century? A new millennium? Here’s how: Kevin Costner has a movie coming out this weekend, and nobody even noticed.

The movie is Swing Vote, starring the Prince of Thieves himself, plus the little girl who played Ben’s childhood sweetheart that one time on Lost, as an apathetic Ohio resident whose vote will determine the Presidential election. It’s small. It’s domestic and political (which you know is a winning combination at the box office). It’s the kind of movie that’s going to be dated as soon as it hits theaters, or at the very latest, the first Wednesday after the first Monday in November. But it’s a bit of a milestone for Costner anyway, and we at CH applaud his efforts. Don’t give up, Kevin!

How did this happen? How is it that one of the most marketable film stars of the last decade doesn’t even register anymore? Was it…the string of bad movies connecting 1991 to 2007? I think we can all learn something here. Note to self: In the event of international fame for acting (which is totally going to happen aaaaaany day now), make at most one terrible, bloated “epic” per five-year period. Kapisce?

Ultimately, though, Costner’s sudden under-the-radar status may be the best thing that ever happens to him: a chance to build up some equity in smaller films, remember what it’s like to play a person in the current, living universe, and shift from A-List Adventure Guy to Person Who Isn’t Always On A Horse (as he ages, Orlando Bloom might consider the same transformation. Are you listening to me, O?). He generated some positive buzz in The Upside of Anger, and although Rumor Has It… was a travesty of filmmaking, it wasn’t his usual lead-balloon fare, and that’s something. He is bringing back his famed Midwest Guy persona, a la Field of Dreams, but that’s forgivable. Baby steps, after all. Maybe this is just the beginning of new Costner, someone who’s slightly less cringe-y, has a little more sense about the roles he accepts, someone who’s scaling it down a little. We can hope. Good luck, Kevin.

Swing Vote, Kevin Costner, Madeline Carroll, Orlando Bloom, upcoming movies, new releases