Because I Saw The Film

My new film blog

2011-09-07T12:41:00.000-07:00

I haven't written anything on here in ages, so I don't expect anyone to care about this recent turn of events, but I now have a new film/television blog (which is a disguise for me to post whatever I would like to post) called The Critical Escapist.

In the past few months, I basically came to realize that Twitter isn't a sufficient enough outlet for my rants and I need an entire blog for it.

R.I.P. Because I Saw The Film. We had some good times, but things I start during my sophomore year of high school just aren't meant to last.

So long live The Critical Escapist? We'll see, my dears.

The Movie Blogger Survey

2010-12-14T10:41:00.000-08:00

Love the classics? Or just films in general? Take the Movie Blogger Survey!

If you're a fellow film blogger, you can also promote this survey on your blog and receive a free DVD.

Have fun, guys.

In defense of Two and a Half Men

2010-09-03T08:56:00.000-07:00

The Internet's most unpopular title card.

I can feel the bullet wounds already.

Somewhere between the time Two and a Half Men became the highest-rated sitcom in America and to the time Two and a Half Men remained the highest-rated sitcom in America, it has become cool to hate the show.

In a recent bout of depression, I finally watched a rerun in its entirety. I pretty much live on syndication. And it wasn't too bad. In fact, I watched other episodes and they weren't completely horrible either. I don't even remember why I hated it so much in the first place other than the fact that, while channel-surfing, it seemed really stupid. I am about to swallow my words.

Let's acknowledge what most of the Internet (15 to 35 year olds) and I agree about this show: It's not brilliant, it's not groundbreaking, it's not special, it's probably aimed at ordinary, middle-aged men and 10 year boys (your parents and your baby nephew), it's surprising that it's the number one sitcom in America, and it has more cheap potty humor than it should have.

But here's what we disagree on: I find it rather endearing, entertaining, full of potential, and occasionally, very funny. Shoot me, please.

I don't understand how anyone can fault the actors in the show because they are not the problem. The Emmys seem to agree with me.

Sheen was painfully bland in his Golden Globe-winning (?!) performance as Michael J. Fox's replacement in Spin City, but in his own vehicle, he is a reliable lead. His acting style epitomizes the title of Jason Alexander's book in the Curb Your Enthusiasm episode, Acting Without Acting. Having said that, Sheen does a very good, effortless job of playing himself, minus the more controversial aspects of his real-life self. Comedians have been playing caricatures of themselves for years and while Sheen is not a comedian, he is pretty funny in the show by being a self-centered, often drunk, irresponsible, lazy bastard, commitment-phobe jingle writer with some sort of questionable heart.

Considering all the negative reaction to Jon Cryer's Supporting Actor Emmy win last year (and nomination this year), I wonder: Has anyone actually seen Jon Cryer's performance in Two and a Half Men? Cryer, as Alan, Charlie's divorced chiropractic brother, is technically co-lead, but submitting himself in the supporting category is basically a stroke of genius. While the point of being a "supporting actor" is to impress the audience with limited screen time, Sheen will always be seen as the real "star" of the show. Especially since Cryer's paycheck is almost half of Sheen's.

So back to my original question: Is the quality of Cryer's performance really so much worse than Jack McBrayer (30 Rock), Tracy Morgan (30 Rock), Kevin Dillon (Entourage), Neil Patrick Harris (How I Met Your Mother), and Rainn Wilson (The Office)? I've seen all the performances except for Dillon's in Entourage, and Cryer's doesn't pale so much in comparison. While Harris was widely considered to be robbed that year, and yes, Harris is a fine actor, but his performance doesn't strike me as so much more superior than the performances of his fellow nominees. Harris now has two Emmys, anyway.

However, Cryer's performance conveys all the anguish of a desperate, self-pitying, middle-aged loser trying to cope with the dating scene and the antics of his playboy brother. A George Costanza with morals.

Angus T. Jones as Alan's son, Jake, is very good. In the earlier seasons, Jake is pretty much there to be confused about the sexual double entendres, but he watches and learns. Is that appropriate? Well, Jones' parents seem to approve. Jones is much more natural than most Disney child stars and has chemistry with all the actors in the show, except that as he ages, he seems to lack an essential father-son rapport with Cryer. As Jake ages, his dialogue is dumbed down to miserable potty humor, but Jones manages to surprisingly deliver his lines with an odd deadbeat charm.

This show has often been criticized by many for its portrayal of women. Yes, the women who comes in and out of Charlie's life are often shown as bimbos. Guess what? Bimbos exist. And there are also men who objectify women. Charlie is one of those men. And these women voluntarily, willingly sleep with Charlie. Those kind of women also exist and those kind of men certainly don't mind.

But the other regular female characters on this show are far from being bimobs. Yes, they are flawed, but again, who isn't?

Judith (Marin Hinkle), Alan's ex-wife, is probably the most unsympathetic recurring female character. Judith divorces Alan because she's questioning her sexuality and after the divorce, she makes Alan pay for everything because she doesn't seem to have a job. But besides her obvious bitchiness, she does seem like a good mother who cares about what is best for her son.

Evelyn (Holland Taylor), Charlie and Alan's promiscuous mother, is a strong, independent woman. Evelyn's dominance of the Harper household--after her husband's suicide--is probably what sways her sons to weaker, more docile women. It makes sense. Taylor's multiple Emmy nominations are due to the fact that she's a masterful scene stealer. Her false attempts to spend time with her grandson, only to roll her eyes at an episode SpongeBob SquarePants and proclaim that "Life's too short" is the stuff comedic wonders are made of.

Berta (Conchata Ferrell), Charlie's housekeeper, is also a strong, independent woman who is able to get the job done and keep the family in place. And some people believe Berta's character is demeaning because she's a unpleasant, overweight maid. While she's not a young hot thing, she's sensible and cuts all the bullshit. Ferrell adds a dose of magic to even the simplest line readings. Even to something as simple as "Bite me."

I am particularly impressed with Melanie Lynskey's performance as Rose, Charlie's stalker and Jake's occasional babysitter. While Rose is probably one of the most manipulative, disturbing characters that has ever graced television, I don't think I can ever hate her. Lynskey plays her with such innocence, sweetness, sharpness, and wonderful comedic timing that it's a surprise that the writers never bothered to expand her role. Every time she is on screen, she brings the best out of all the actors. Lynskey (and this show) manages to make a stalker work as a character and a potential love interest.

The story lines for the episodes has often been criticized as being "unoriginal," "repetitive," and "formulaic." Here are some sample story lines:

- Charlie meets up with an old flame, only to find out that she has undergone a sex change (and is now Chris O'Donnell). They agree to be friends. When the ex-girlfriend--now a man--meets Evelyn, they end up dating. Charlie and Alan need to decide how to break the news to their mother.

- Chelsea, Charlie's girlfriend then fiancee, sets Alan up on a blind date. Charlie and Alan soon realize at the restaurant that Alan's blind date is Rose. Rose proceeds to pretend that she doesn't know the men and Charlie and Alan play along.

- At first, Rose's father (Martin Sheen) seems like an authoritative man. When he becomes too attached to Evelyn, Rose comes in and deals with her father, who seems to show the same mental instabilities that Rose possess.

These are arguably solid sitcom story lines. Sure, these story lines aren't complex or clever, but they're mildly creative, simple, and fun.

The jokes are a different story. Some of the jokes are sometimes just tasteless, many are predictable. There is a conversation in the season seven finale where Jake describes what he does to his butt and compares it to a hot dog; Sheen's disgusted reaction looks extraordinarily genuine.

Creators Chuck Lorre and Lee Aronsohn are above that kind of humor. I know that because the story lines are occasionally creative, the dialogue is occasionally witty and sharp, and I see random bursts of brilliance in this show all over the place. But its good qualities are not being embraced or harvested. It's like CBS comes in and tells Lorre and Aronsohn that the show is a big hit with a particular demographic--the mainstream blue collar/middle-aged men and 10 year old boys--and as condescending douchebags, they convince Lorre and Aronsohn to add in a penis joke here and a fart joke there. Because apparently, the mainstream cannot live without those.

But I don't know what 10 year boys like. Maybe 10 year boys do like fart jokes. I don't know.

The thing about Two and a Half Men is that it's one of the few network sitcoms right now that's not "cute." It doesn't aspire to be cute, unlike Lorre and Aronsohn's other project, The Big Bang Theory. Two and a Half Men appeals to the beer-drinking, working class forty-something and the sons of those beer-drinking, working class forty-somethings. That's a large part of America, if ratings prove anything.

Still, it breaks my heart seeing all the potential go to waste. This is a show that could be about a goofy, modern family unit that could only exist in sitcom-verse--the matriarch, the polar opposite brothers, the son of an unconventional family, the ex-wife, the ex-wife's husband, the maid, the stalker, the occasional new girlfriend, etc. While the show isn't clever, it certainly has a clever set of characters.

There are sitcoms that are as good as they ever going to get. This show could be so much more than the cheap, disposable humor wasteland it sometimes is. Take away all the potty humor and here's a show with tons of potential. Yeah, I like this show for what it could be more than what it is. But haters can hate. And I know there are a lot of you guys out there.

Being sentimental about 'North'

2010-08-09T12:29:00.001-07:00

Elijah Wood is the outstanding, but neglected child in North. Photo courtesy of an Elijah Wood fan site.

When I was younger, my mom told me this great bedtime story. It was about a bunny whose mother made her a homemade backpack for her to bring to the first day of school. But when the bunny saw some other animal's backpack (they're all anthropomorphic animals, I guess), the two traded backpacks. And the bunny keeps trading backpacks and she's still unsatisfied. She goes to a wise, old anthropomorphic animal and he helps her to get her original backpack that her mom made for her back.

Okay, the story was better coming from my mom. And I was five, so I wasn't too difficult to impress.

Anyway, I've always loved that story because I love the fact that the bunny was able to get her original backpack back in the end. Regrets can be reversed. I wished the real world was like that.

So even though my mom told me bedtime stories (I think that is the only one she's ever told me) and I lived in the suburbs (could've been worse, right?), I eventually had this phase where I wanted different parents. Now, I understand that most children don't really want different parents; they just want their original parents to be different, like, you know, not as annoying and demanding. You know, the usual. But I was 10. I didn't know the difference. I just wanted my parents to be different--different attitudes, different personalities, different jobs, different people, if that's what it takes.

It's a selfish, horrible thought, but a thought indeed.

Which brings me to Rob Reiner's 1994 family film, North. A critical and financial failure, the film tells the story of a young boy, North (Elijah Wood) who wants to emancipate ("divorce") himself from his parents (Jason Alexander, Julia Louis-Dreyfus--OMG I KNOW GEORGE AND ELAINE) who just don't appreciate him like everyone else does. He's an excellent student, athlete, and actor--so why can't his parents just stop screaming at each other at the dinner table and pay some attention to him?

After North is emancipated, he goes on a worldwide, two-month search for new parents. He goes to Texas, Hawaii, Alaska, an Amish community, China, Africa, France, and New York. Let the ethnic stereotypes, celebrity cameos (Kathy Bates, Reba McEntire, Dan Aykroyd, John Ritter, Faith Ford, etc.), random Bruce Willis appearances (as some sort of mentor who dresses for the occasion), nervous laughter, and "what the f---"s run loose!

Back at home, his parents are comatose and are displayed at the Smithsonian. Children across America are threatening their parents: if the parents don't fulfill their wishes (one kid commands him mom to clean his room for him), they will, like North, emancipate themselves.

This revolution is led by North's journalist friend, Winchell (Matthew McCurley), who is like 10 or something and he's this expert stalker (it's his job!) who gives these Hitler-esque speeches on podiums across the nation. I wonder what his parents think about that? Anyway, Winchell works with North's lawyer (Jon Lovitz) so they can take over America. Or something like that.

When North begins to have second thoughts (I don't want to actually spoil anything), Winchell tries to murder North because North getting new parents is the key of Winchell's success. The kids are listening to Winchell, and in turn, their parents (who are being threatened) are listening to the kids. Winchell even hires a hitman. Yeah, that's right, KIDS STUFF. I DON'T EVEN KNOW ANYMORE.

And why is North named North? Because that's a really, really strange name.

It's probably cliched if I wrote about all the problems with this movie and how horrible it is. So I won't do that. Mainly because I don't hate this movie and I don't even think it's horrible? The reason I wanted to see this movie for the longest time was because of Roger Ebert's infamous review. I bought the VHS from Amazon for $3 plus shipping. But good thing I ended up liking it, right? Sorry, Roger Ebert!

Honestly, I would be lying if I said I didn't like it. I actually think it's a very funny, sweet, touching movie, minus the jokes about the dead fat kid, dying old people, ancient Chinese hairstyles, barren wombs, Jerry Lewis dominating French television, the Amish, and topless African women. There are also weird sex jokes and unnecessary shots of prostitutes? I DON'T KNOW. The ethnic jokes are often awful and awkward, yet pretty harmless. However, I totally understand why many people would find the jokes offensive.

But I connect with the movie's message, which is pretty much that you don't appreciate what you have until you lose it. And that message is very personal to me. I guess I'm just being sentimental, but who said criticism was objective?

The opening scene conveys a sense of wonder that I haven't seen in recent children's films. Elijah Wood is particularly wonderful as North; he's just so natural, authentic, and convincing. Matthew McCurley is entirely too convincing as the full-blown evil mastermind in a child's body, but he manages to be very funny. And this movie is basically non-stop entertainment; even when there's a terrible joke being uttered, there is still something going on in the movie (the terrible joke being uttered). It's never boring.

So I like North. I also like Batman and Robin and Gigli. Oops? JUST BEING HONEST.

How I wanted to care

2010-08-08T14:31:00.000-07:00

A few months ago, writer/director Joe Leonard sent me a screener for his film, How I Got Lost. (Thanks! Free movie!) Yesterday afternoon, when I was sitting around doing nothing, I thought, well, why not watch it?

Here is another film pondering the meaning of life and what it's all about. Why is it that the filmmakers of my generation and the generation before mine so obsessed with that topic? And why haven't any of those filmmakers been able to provide an original, thoughtful answer?

It's all about going wild! Getting out of your comfort zones! Doing something different! Be spontaneous! Be what you really want to be! Be yourself!

Before we get too excited about all this, let me introduce you to Jake and Andrew, denizens of a post-9/11 New York.

Jake (Aaron Stanford) is an aspiring novelist, which is the best profession when you're pondering the meaning of life. It's always nice to ponder the meaning of life with a typewriter too, even though it's 2002 and everyone else uses a computer. I realize this is an artistic choice, but seriously though!

However, he has an unsatisfying job as a sports writer who covers women's basketball. To add insult to injury, his girlfriend just broke up with him. So not only does he have a job that he absolutely hates, he is suffering from heartbreak and has yet to discover that computers are much more useful than typewriters.

But images of his break-up continue to haunt him. With sappy music and cheesy dialogue.

Andrew (Jacob Fishel) works at Wall Street with a bunch of phonies. He just recently got out of a brief stint in jail and is Contemplating Life Through Alcohol.

The two frequent local bars and after one too many drinks, Jake and Andrew decide to embark on a road trip. First, via taxi. The New York cab driver gives them a free cab ride to Philadelphia if Jake just gives him his shoes. Lucky them. Second, Andrew goes to his mother's house to pick up a car so they can drive to the funeral of Andrew's father in Ohio.

During the "road trip" part of the film, we get more insights about how Jake and Andrew view their empty, disillusioned lives. Andrew hates sucking up to the big guys on Wall Street. He just wants to be the kind of person he wants to be, man!

There is a gas station scene where we are all supposed to believe that a young girl would be left alone at a gas station and give a ride to two grown men back to the middle of nowhere where their car is located. I think it's supposed to be comedic relief, but I'm not really buying it.

When Jake and Andrew finally arrive in small-town Ohio, they attend the memorial. Andrew finally cracks and throws a tantrum in front of his father's friends. The next day, Andrew is ready to leave, but Jake decides to stay in the town to plan Andrew's father's funeral. Wait, doesn't Jake have to work? And seriously now, what kind of person arrives at a memorial, humiliates his dead father, and leaves all the details of his deceased father's funeral arrangements to his friend?

No matter. Jake soon meets a waitress, Leslie (Rosemarie Dewitt), and they share an instant connection. Maybe offering to help Andrew's father's funeral arrangement was a good choice after all! But still!

How I Got Lost is ultimately a story about dealing with grief and friendship. It's about trying to find what's important and what's not underneath the phony exterior of everyday situations. It's about confronting reality and moving forward. It's the kind of film that has been made and made again. The message is getting old, cliched, and predictable. You have to be quite a brilliant mind to be able to make an excellent film about "finding yourself" because it's been done to death. It's almost Mission Impossible.

But it's also film with its heart in the right place. The performances are quite good--Stanford and Dewitt are lovely. But it's Fishel that manages to be warm, funny, tortured and interesting. But the film has serious pace issues--it's much too slow, drags too much, and doesn't seem to have any sort of end-point. It's a character piece, for sure, but the characters' motivations are so thin and incoherent that it's impossible to know where they're going. Yes, we want them to be happy again, but how? I wish I knew them better. C-

Souls on a verge of a romantic breakdown

2010-08-08T08:18:00.000-07:00

MacNicol, Streep, and Kline sitting carelessly on a Brooklyn roof. Being romantic and stuff.

Meryl Streep. Sophie's Choice. Keep freaking out about that performance but...

Sophie's Choice is an extraordinarily uneven film about the lives of three extraordinarily uneven characters.

Stingo (Peter MacNicol) is a naive young man from the south with dreams of becoming a writer. He arrives in Brooklyn, New York in 1940s to fulfill that romantic dream.

At his boarding house, he meets Nathan (Kevin Kline) and Sophie (Meryl Streep), a couple who is complex and fun-loving, volatile and exciting, chaotic and romantic. Nathan and Sophie are unlike anything Stingo has ever seen. They dress up on Sundays, have spontaneous trips to Coney Island, and impromptu celebrations in their room. The film, for that brief period, very much become the American version of Jules and Jim.

Stingo worships Nathan, a man who claims to be a biologist on the verge of a scientific breakthrough. But at the same time, Stingo falls for Sophie, a Polish Holocaust survivor who is more than meets the eye. Nathan, who suffers from periods of paranoia, begins to suspect an affair brewing between Stingo and Sophie.

When Nathan becomes completely unreasonable, Sophie still stands by him. He saved her life upon her arrival to the U.S. He was there for her. She loves him and she knows that, deep down, he loves her, despite his angry accusations.

More is revealed about Sophie's past in the flashback scenes--stories Sophie narrates to a curious Stingo. She was in a Nazi concentration camp and suffered extreme heartbreak. Memories that she could never, ever let go. Memories that made her who she is today.

Except that the Sophie in the war and post-war scenes do not quite connect. Sophie makes similar decisions, thematically, and clings desperately to hope, but she is not a character who rapidly evolves. She, like all the dreamers of 1940s Brooklyn, is a hopeless romantic and has probably always been one. Yes, she suffered many unimaginable hardships, but there is little to indicate that she has changed into a stronger person who can and will stand on her own.

Streep's performance in this film has become legendary. And yes, she is, indeed, very good, but not exactly "the best performance of all-time" material. She takes on a Polish accent, yes, but I have no idea whether or not it is authentic. But Sophie is not a passionate or admirable character. In fact, Sophie is surprisingly passive, dependent, and, in a way, a weak character who hopes for the best, but takes no action to assure the desired outcome. I understand there are many people like that, but here is a woman who has gone through so much and seem to have learned so little.

The harrowing scene near the conclusion is also legendary. But that scene, while wonderfully directed, heartbreaking, and features a spectacular performance by the child actress (Jennifer Lawn) who portrays Sophie's daughter, comes much too out-of-blue to be considered a strong scene in the context of the film.

Kline is full of enthusiasm and bursting with energy. His Nathan boasts of this primitive, romantic nature of a classic bohemian lifestyle. Nathan is an interesting character, but sometimes, it feels like the film just only scratched the surface of his poor, artistic soul. There is more about Nathan than meets the eye, and thanks to Kline, a glimmer of that is revealed.

MacNicol's Stingo, the bland Nick to Nathan's adventurous Gatsby, is passive, boring, and the very last person I would like to hear this story from. Stingo wants to experience life, but he is so two-dimensional and blandly eager, that he comes off as childish and self-pitying. He writes a story about his mother's death and by Nathan's reaction in a moment of insanity, he seems to feel more sorrow for himself than his dead mother. That is Stingo in a neat little nutshell.

The film, weakly woven together by director Alan J. Pakula, yet beautifully shot by Nesto Almendors and features a glorious score by Marvin Hamlisch, is a mixed bag of sorts. There are times where the film almost achieves what it hopes to achieve, which is a expose about the hopelessly romantic and their tortured lives, but the result is a barely beating heart of three hopeless, unfortunate souls who sought solace in the most questionable places. C

Seinfeld vs. Friends vs. Frasier

2010-07-22T11:52:00.000-07:00

30 Rock and The Office may be critical darlings, but are they Must-See TV material? They got nothing on the powerhouses that are Seinfeld, Friends, and Frasier. Just sayin'.

When you're an unemployed recent high school graduate, like myself, you will most likely be spending your weekday nights watching syndicated reruns of Seinfeld, Friends, and Frasier on your local FOX affiliate, instead of partying it up with booze and blowing your parents' money off at the local cineplex. Right? Yes, absolutely! Nineties sitcoms are so in!

Moving on from socially acceptable norms, I want to talk about what I've been doing to occupy all the free time I have. I've been doing mostly nothing but mindlessly watching television and filling out applications for minimum wage employment. The former is much more enjoyable and a better topic for discussion.

So every night from 9pm to 11pm, I watch Seinfeld, Friends, and Frasier, in that order. It is arguably the most amazing two hours of comedy on television right now. In a way, it's almost like a time capsule that brings the golden age of NBC's Must-See TV to 2010. Unfortunately, this comparison would be much more clever if Seinfeld, Friends, and Frasier ever aired on the same Thursday night (only Friends and Frasier did).

I'm just living in the past and I'm not ashamed of it!

It is only natural to compare these shows. In my world where nothing is ever fair, there is always a clear-cut winner.

For anyone following my Twitter, they know I love the f--- out of Seinfeld. So there's already no competition. But I'll try to keep the discussion alive the best I can.

Greatest show ever...if you're part of the Baby Boomer Generation or Generation X. Or you're just part of it in spirit.

Seinfeld is one of the most original, unique, inventive sitcoms I've ever seen. In the last twelve years since it has gone off the air, no other show has had such a spectacular cultural impact or an eye so keen for clever social commentary. It relies on no reliable formula. It's completely unconventional. The characters are all bursts of wondrous comedic creativity and so brilliantly played by Jerry Seinfeld, Julia Louis-Dreyfus, Michael Richards, and Jason Alexander (ROBBED SO BADLY FOR AN EMMY). It's so witty, so quotable, and almost always hysterical.

Not only do I tune into Seinfeld at 9pm, but also at 7:30pm, and sometimes at 11pm, where they rerun the episode that aired at 9pm. There are some episodes that are so funny that they demand to be seen twice in one day.

It hasn't always been like this, though. I used to find Seinfeld loud and obnoxious, unfunny and unamusing, and generally tasteless. But, for some absurd reason, I would always tell my fellow friends that I preferred Seinfeld over Friends. I think that was the rebel inside of me at work, trying desperately to be different. But truthfully, as much as I enjoyed Friends, I've always found it overrated--more on that later.

I sympathized with Seinfeld, though, even though it's a show with complete and utter cultural relevance and is one of the most successful television sitcoms ever made. But I sympathized with it because my dear ol' Generation Y just didn't get it. I, for one, wished I did.

That was just fate at work, of course, because after my numerous declarations of a preference for Seinfeld over Friends, I actually began to enjoy some of the episodes that I would often catch while channel-surfing. (I guess this is a prime example of becoming what you say you are.) I remember thinking that "The Handicap Spot" and "The Bizzaro Jerry" are absolutely hilarious and brilliant. The episodes that truly got me hooked were "The Fusilli Jerry," "The Pitch," and "The Engagement." There was no turning back after seeing those episodes. The structure is brilliant--everything just ties together in the end, in the most unique, unpredictable way possible.

Seinfeld is notorious for being a self-labeled "show about nothing." And in a way, yes, George Costanza knew what he was talking about. But in the finale, George sums up the show perfectly by telling the NBC executives, "I really don't think so-called relationship humor is what this show is all about." And surprisingly, George is once again correct. While Friends is about marriages, divorces, hook-ups, break-ups, pregnancies, babies, and other genuinely emotional life events, Seinfeld is about muffin tops, pudding skins, soup, man-hands, puffy shirts, big salads, and ultimately, itself.

In Seinfeld's most thoughtful seventh season where George--the jackass, the loser, the Average Joe--gets engaged to a relatively decent woman, yet he spends the rest of the season trying to get out of the engagement so he could pursue other women. The show takes the entire relationship formula and throws it out the window.

But that is the core of Seinfeld: it's about selfish, miserable people whose plans often get destroyed by karma. That's why Jerry and Elaine were never meant to be, though they were perfect for each other (I'm not the only fan who thinks this, right?). But the characters are incredibly human and surprisingly warm (at times) to those in their inner circle.

Jerry Seinfeld said it best: "There's a great warmth beneath the surface of these characters. Just the fact that we forgive each other shows you that."

Those are all the qualities that made Seinfeld click with me, and perhaps the 76 million people that watched the finale (and the many that hated it). The show addressed things that are universal and often made it one giant inside joke for the fans that tuned in week after week (and oh how I wished I could have experienced that).

However, it's also a beautifully nihilistic reflection of the minituae. While some believed the show epitomized New York, it's a fine representation of misery, frustration, and disappointment from any part of the world. And there's the absurd humor ready to be dissected from it all.

There will never be another show like Seinfeld. Some people believe Curb Your Enthusiasm is the present-day Seinfeld and it's definitely comparable, being the brainchild of Seinfeld co-creator, Larry David, but it's a little too formulaic to be "better" than Seinfeld.

Seinfeld is inimitable. And I even liked the finale.

Greatest show ever if you're a fifteen year old girl. Just kidding!

Speaking of imitation, I believe that every generation needs their own Friends. I mean this is as a compliment. I believe that every decade or so, Friends should be remade. So while How I Met Your Mother is technically Friends, its unoriginal premise is not offensive because every generation needs a Friends! (But honestly, I can't care for How I Met Your Mother because I've already seen most of the last ten seasons of Friends. Does anyone else feel that way too? Or do you think How I Met Your Mother's quirks, wits, and Neil Patrick Harris make up for the fact that it's basically a pseudo Friends rip-off?)

I have a love-hate relationship with Friends, as you might have guessed. Friends is the first sitcom I fell in love with. My mom used to watch it in syndication and on Thursday nights on NBC. I would watch it with her and I thought it was relatively funny and cool because when you're ten, funny and cool pretty much makes a show gold.

Unlike Seinfeld, Friends is a certified "relationships show." The show often hinges on whether or not Ross (David Schwimmer) and Rachel (Jennifer Aniston) get together in the end or when will the whole group find out about Chandler (Matthew Perry) and Monica's (Courteney Cox) secret relationship, etc. It's a show that centers its whole existence on the idea of life's great emotional events.

But that's exactly why it's popular. That's why it's still many of my friends' favorite show ever. I get it!

Watching Friends as an eighteen-year-old, it's like watching the show with a brand new pair of eyes. I notice the infantile humor, the unacknowledged, uncalculated, accidental emotional immaturity of the characters (Seinfeld's characters can be immature, but Friends' characters are just plain stupid sometimes), the unbelievably moronic tendencies of its male characters (I know girls like it when they feel dominant towards the opposite sex, but do you really like guys who just don't have a clue?), and the emotional manipulation. Friends feels like a chick flick exclusively made for fifteen year old girls.

Yet I feel incredible warmth when I hear the iconic "I'll Be There For You" theme song and see the cast frolicking in the fountain. I feel completely nostalgic whenever I watch an episode because here is a show I used to love--it's like visiting an old friend.

I saw "The One Hundredth" the other day and there was that moment in the end where Phoebe (Lisa Kudrow) looks at her triplets and tells them how much she wishes she could see them everyday. And while I may hate Friends for its blindly cartoonish, immature antics, there are certainly some very sweet moments that just hits all the right notes.

I remember watching the finale live back in 2004. It is one of the most crowd-pleasing television finales I've seen. While the Seinfeld finale remains controversial to this day, the Friends finale left its fans with just the right amount of smiles and tears. I knew twelve-year-old me choked up at the sight of the empty apartment. At the time, I already spent the past three seasons watching Friends every Thursday night at 8pm. I actually feel chills just thinking about the last scenes of Friends.

Call it emotional manipulation or pulling of the heartstrings or whatever you want, but Friends has a damn good finale, which makes watching the reruns more satisfying because I know everything will turn out alright.

But then again, there's Joey, starring Matt LeBlanc. Which I find underrated, but still relatively lame.

Some say that there are two different types of people in the world: Those who prefer Friends and those who prefer Seinfeld. But I wonder if there is a certain type that prefers Frasier, or is Frasier the one show that unites all...?

Greatest show ever if you're a senior citizen. Or if you appreciate wisdom. Or both.

I just started watching Frasier a month ago, so I'm not a Frasier Expert yet.

Up until recently, I thought Frasier was a show made exclusively for old intellectuals who read Proust, Shakespeare, and Joyce on a daily basis. I've never seen an entire episode and every time it came on, I just switched the channel immediately. Well, I recently decided to give it a try and thought it was just hilarious. So lesson learned: Never judge a book by its cover.

While the so-called warmth in Friends can feel shallow and superficial at times, the writing in Frasier is so crisp, so clever, so witty, so touching that no wonder it's one of the most awarded sitcoms of all-time. While the humor is intellectual, it's not inaccessible to the ordinary person.

The sibling rivalry between Frasier and Niles Crane is often hysterical and they are even more hysterical when they have to work together. I was watching "The Show Must Go Off" the other day and the chemistry between Kelsey Grammer and David Hyde Pierce (who, along with Michael Richards, stole all of Jason Alexander's Emmys, but who can blame him?) is unbelievable. Not only do they have an uncanny resemblance, they really are convincing as brothers. And, of course, David Jacobi is excellent as an ex-Shakespearean theater actor turned sour.

The on-and-off relationship between Niles and physical therapist Daphne Moon (Jane Leeves) really is the sweetest thing. While Ross and Rachel may be the king and queen of the television on-and-off relationship of recent times, Niles and Daphne are so endearing, so sweet that Ross and Rachel can't even hold a candle to their relationship. Niles' nerdy longing for Daphne is funny and heartbreaking, wonderful and romantic.

The rest of the supporting cast--Peri Gilpin and John Mahoney--are a charming pleasure.

I can definitely see Frasier as a no-contest favorite in the future, but for now, I am just enjoying the journey of spending my weeknights with these wonderful, funny characters.

But right now, Seinfeld is the clear-cut winner. Its warmth is subtle. Its frustrations and comedy are blatant and endless. For a show that lets all romantic relationships slip through its fingers, it's a show I relate to and feel for the most. It's the show I feel the most affinity for. And I'm not even a lifelong New Yorker, though I was born there. That must be why.

So I direct this question to those who trespass: Seinfeld, Friends, or Frasier? And why?

Love, loneliness, and the New India

2010-06-25T12:20:00.000-07:00

They are just going to dance all day and not give a damn about what you think. Welcome to the new India.

Unless you have lived in the cave for the past several years and/or have absolutely no knowledge of modern Indian culture, I would assume that you are familiar with Bollywood, India's lively answer to Hollywood.

For those who are unfamiliar with Bollywood conventions, Slumdog Millionaire is sort of like the typical Bollywood movies. It has the fairy tale romance, the semi-admirable hero, and the endearing dance scene in the end. So, still very much inspired by the conventions that has made Bollywood such a crowd-pleasing success, not only in India, but world-wide. Naturally, the Danny Boyle film would go on to win an undeserved Best Picture award at the Academy Awards because unlike the usual Bollywood film, Slumdog Millionaire contains political undertones.

But Bollywood itself seriously caught my attention when I was channel-surfing and a local Indian program was counting down to Aamir Khan's best movies. I've NEVER heard of Aamir Khan before in my life, but I was soon informed that Aamir Khan is one of the most popular, highest-paid actors in India. My Indian and Hindi-speaking friends all happen to be in love with him and his movies. To them, he is not only a mere actor, director, or celebrity--he's a true artist who has brought the nation together through the wonders of great cinematic entertainment. Okay, that may be an exaggeration, but you get what I mean.

One of my friends recommended Dil Chahta Hai (English translation: The Heart Desires). Well, "recommended" is too direct a word. I was going through the films featured on the Khan countdown and Dil Chahta Hai seemed interesting. My friend said she loved it and even offered to watch it with me. (I turned her down.) But she, and many others, raved by Khan's most recent film, 3 Idiots, which is not yet available on DVD. So Dil Chahta Hai had to do. Besides, Dil Chahta Hai, like 3 Idiots, is also about three friends, so it couldn't be that much of a stretch.

So last night, I had my first taste of a real Bollywood movie. Dil Chahta Hai (isn't that kind of fun to say? even though if you have no idea if you're pronouncing it right or not?) about three best friends from middle-class Indian families. They're well-educated, modern, and looking for love. LOOKING FOR LOVE is a big theme, here, because most of the characters fall deeply in love with someone very quickly, even the guy who constantly claims that he doesn't believe in love. Just sayin'.

The film is told in a flashback. There has been some conflict in the friendship between these three friends, but it is not revealed until later. I feel like I am led to believe that the conflict was something very life-changing and terrible, but it is then revealed to be something that's not really a big deal? And the fact that they got into such a major conflict over it is kind of stupid? OOPS.

Anyway...

Sameer (Saif Ali Khan), who works at his father's computer company, falls in and out of love every two weeks. After disastrous break-ups from a total bitch and a conniving Swiss (also a bitch), he reluctantly goes along with his family's plans for a traditional arranged marriage. To his surprise, he falls in love with the candidate, Pooja (Sonali Kulkarni). But Pooja, as a modern Indian woman, is very against the idea of a traditional arranged marriage because she is already in love with another man. Sameer tries to convince her otherwise.

Sid (Akshaye Khanna), an artist, falls hard for an older, divorced woman, Tara (Dimple Kapadia), an interior designer who understands him. This romance creates some tension in Sid's life because of the disapproval from his friends and his mother.

Then there's Akash (Aamir Khan), the spoiled son of a wealthy family. He doesn't believe in love. At his college graduation party, he publicly proposes his love in jest to a very beautiful young woman, Shalini (Preity Zinta), but her finance, Rohit (Ayub Khan) takes offense to that. Months later, Akash, who is on a business assignment, and Shalini, who is meeting her uncle, meet on a flight to Sydney and form a bond. This relationship makes Akash question whether or not love exists.

Set to an energetic, fun soundtrack, with an awesome musical scene near the beginning, Dil Chahta Hai, for the most part, is a decent film, but could have been much better.

Sameer and Sid have the more interesting storylines. While Sameer's happy ending is tied in a nice bow, the ending to Sid's story feels like a cop-out. In fact, it feels that the film sacrificed good storytelling for the two other stories, which are much more interesting, to showcase the obnoxiously bland, predictable romance between Askash and Shalini. That storyline just drags to no end.

The film's attempts to be wise about the elusive subject of love feels shallow, superficial, and silly. A thirteen year old could have made those kind of observations.

But do you know what's the absolute worst thing about this movie? IT IS A THREE-HOUR ROMANTIC COMEDY. OMG. NOT COOL. I told my friend about this and apparently, it's totally natural for a Bollywood romantic comedy to be three hours long because of all the singing and dancing. Come on, really?

There are so many things that could have been cut that aren't musical scenes! They add nothing to the plot! There is the really long vacation montage of the three friends having fun! And it's not fun if I'm not physically there! Then there's that really long montage where Akash is feeling lonely (the lyrics in the song in the scene tells us so) because he realizes that he must confront his new-found beliefs in love!

As charismatic as Aamir Khan is, his co-stars are equally charismatic and deserves equal screen time. Despite the actors look much too old to play recent college graduates, they are quite convincing as the typical clueless, naive youth that exist in pretty much any culture. Saif Ali Khan is very funny as the goofy, lovesick young man and Akshaye Khanna delivers a wonderfully touching performance as a romantic artist who falls into the traps of a socially unacceptable romance.

However, Dil Chahta Hai does present the world with a different image of what the new India is. I'm not an expert on India, so I don't know how many Indians actually live so comfortably and, may I add, carelessly. While it may have been romanticized and commercialized into one marketable cinematic package, there's no doubt that Bollywood is a rising force in the film industry. Director Farhan Akhtar does a fine job weaving the stories together for the most part and cinematographer Ravi K. Chandran gives the film and its various locations (Mumbai, Goa, Sydney) a crisp, fresh look.

But did I mention this film is THREE HOURS LONG? And it's basically a ROMANTIC COMEDY? And its storylines are divided unevenly and some even ends sloppily? And how annoyingly predictable it is? And how its lessons about love are rather idiotic and cliched?

If Dil Chahta Hai ended around the two hours mark, it would have been a fairly enjoyable film about love and friendship in the new, modern India. But since it decided to drag on for another hour, it gave itself an opportunity to be extremely flawed and sloppy, yet its sentimental, feel-good mentality still stands. Fortunately for you, there are other sentimental, feel-good films that doesn't take over three hours of your life. C+

If I Were a Rich Man

2010-05-30T14:58:00.000-07:00

Andrew is hosting a musical blog-a-thon at his awesome blog, Encore's World of Film & TV. He sent me an e-mail several weeks ago informing me about it and due to some healthy procrastination, it took me a while, but here it is...

Bruce Springsteen once described hearing Bob Dylan's "Like a Rolling Stone" for the first time as "somebody'd kicked open the door to your mind," and while I can't agree more, that's also precisely the way I feel about Fiddler on the Roof.

Underneath all that moronic suburban glitz I grew up with, I always had great respect for traditional values of my own and others. They may be wrong or right, but they exist. It's all very inevitable and very much in need of toleration.

That said, Fiddler is often tragically forgotten by movie musical enthusiasts.

While its professions of faith, family, and Jewish traditions may not be the rule of thumb of twenty-first century cynicism, there is a overwhelming warmth to Teyve's (Chaim Topol), the protagonist, eagerness to keep on living the way life has always been and when he realizes that life cannot always simply be, it's a moment of the cold, hard truth that is worthy of sympathy.

There are few films that combine humor and drama as brilliantly as Fiddler does. Teyve's conversations with God are funny, simply because they are so honest and so human. When Teyve rejects her daughter for marrying a Russian Orthodox, it's particularly heartbreaking because Teyve loves her so much, yet he feels a duty to preserve a tradition he cares so deeply about. He's not always right, but I feel for him.

The film is ultimately about love. The love between a father and his daughter. The love between a husband and his wife. The love between two young lovers. The love between a man and God--and that's touching, whether you believe in God or not. There is just something so pure and simple about the musical's message about love, and it's a shame that modern films seem to over stuff the love message with a glow of shallow boxes of chocolates and bouquets of roses.

However, it's also a film about tradition crackling under the pressure of a escalating revolution. A revolution that is plagued by the sorrows of destruction and injustice. There's definite cynicism in the film, especially when homes are being destroyed.

Yet, in the end, there is hope. It's not overdone. It's not ridiculous. It's an authentic feeling of hope. People are forgiven. The future is full of endless possibilities. The film doesn't shove sentimentalism, but makes its point in a rather quiet, touching way.

Director Norman Jewison's musical numbers are not splashy, technicolor extravaganzas, but they are nevertheless electrifying. Topol demands attention. The camera is drawn to his powerful persona. This is most apparent when Topol must break the fourth wall--he's traditional and extremely personable.

And I'll leave with Topol's legendary "If I Were a Rich Man" scene:

Bees in New York

2010-05-23T15:11:00.000-07:00

Almost expected Simon & Garfunkel's "The Sound of Silence" before this happened. I mean, really now?

For anyone who has been following me on Twitter, I've been frequently fangirling Seinfeld and watching as much of the reruns as possible on television syndication because that's the best way for Seinfeld newbies to become accustomed to Seinfeld. It's pretty much on television four or five times a day.

I've never quite thought about it before, but it is arguably the greatest American sitcom ever. It's well-written, funny, compulsively re-watchable, wonderfully acted, and all that nothing has directly contributed to the nihilist and existentialist thought in pop culture's mechanical consciousness. Seinfeld is a grand "f--- you" statement to and about life but at its best, an oddly profound and instantly relatable collection of scenes from the awkward simplicities of living and breathing.

However, Seinfeld is woefully underrated in my demographic. While I did not grow up watching the new episodes, I did grow up watching the reruns and I'm sure others have seen it during their moments of channel-surfing. And it is certainly an acquired taste: Until one could actually get in touch with one's feelings of misery, Seinfeld will seem like a cruel, unsophisticated reflection of smug, selfish, superficial New Yorkers.

Yet everyone prefer Friends, which usually plays before or after Seinfeld on a one-hour or two-hour sitcom rerun block. Well, I actually love Friends, since I grew up watching it on a regular basis and saw the last three seasons when it was still on NBC. Yeah, I, too, would love to be one of the six, frolicking in a fountain and being cute and cheerful all the time, but as I know and you know, sometimes karma is a vengeful, inescapable cop.

This leads me in to the DreamWorks animated family movie, Bee Movie, which is honestly a ridiculous film that I would have never bothered to watch if I were not a Seinfeld fan. While I do realize Larry David is the main brainchild behind Seinfeld, Jerry Seinfeld has also co-written some memorable episodes and is a gifted comedian and, in my humble opinion, a fine actor. Seinfeld co-wrote, co-produced, and voiced Barry B. Benson, the hero of Bee Movie.

I am sorry to say that Bee Movie seems to take its inspiration from the weakest episodes of the ADD-induced world of Seinfeld's final two seasons (after Larry David left the show). It is a weird animated feature about a bee who recently graduated from college and has to find a lifelong job. As he explores the possibilities, he encounters a piece of the real world, the human world, I should say. He realizes that humans steal honey from humans and decides to sue the human race, with the help of a lovely florist. This all ends on a rather absurd, pseudo-socialist message and makes me wonder how the hell any child is supposed to enjoy the film.

Bee Movie reminds me of another semi-obnoxious DreamWorks product, Shark Tale, which is also another star-studded animated feature which boasts a voice cast that range from Will Smith to Martin Scorsese.

I don't personally know anyone who has seen Bee Movie, but I have a desire to have a discussion about it. Bee Movie has almost everything I dislike about some modern animated movies, aside from its unattractive animation. I can't say I hated it because I did laugh once or twice and I do praise its courageous appeal to the often loopy possibilities of animation, but I did hate how it tried so damn hard to appeal to the adult masses with self-consciously neurotic Seinfeld-esque dialogue and pop culture references.

In fact, Bee Movie is dressed to the nines with pop culture references that are amusing, but rarely laugh-out-loud hilarious or even necessary. This all starts with the title itself. Ha-ha?

Here we have Ray Liotta honey, a Sting cameo (get it?), a send-up to The Graduate and the downfall of the Saddam Hussein statue, a rather mean-spirited scene where Winnie-the-Pooh gets tranquilized, blatant sex and incest jokes, a creepy man-bee-woman love triangle, a possible sociopath, a Larry King cameo, and many other things that are borderline creepy and eye-roll inducing.

This makes me wonder how animated movies sometimes try really hard to cater to both children and adults, especially DreamWorks. I've heard some fantastic things about How to Train Your Dragon, which I haven't seen, but I've seen many previous DreamWorks animated features, and they are over-the-top with pop culture references that adults probably aren't even going to care for and young children will simply not understand. The beauty of Disney and Pixar is that they rely on the old-fashioned mechanisms of good ol' storytelling and great animation and in the end, there's a wonderful movie to be cherished by audiences of all ages.

I winced and squirmed throughout Bee Movie, though I do realize that it is ultimately a good-intentioned animated family comedy about the benefits of working together. However, being a fan only goes so far. C

Discussion: 1) What do you think about supposedly family-friendly animated movies that tries to cater to both children and adults? 2) Have you ever watched a movie you wouldn't usually watch just because it's somewhat related to something you love?

Astonishing visual triumph, but what was that?

2010-04-24T22:11:00.000-07:00

A journey with the machines. What horror.

After viewing 2001: A Space Odyssey, I had several options: 1) Pretend I loved it and made up my own interpretations of what I thought the film meant. 2) Pretend I liked it and talk about how interesting the entire puzzling experience was. 3) Just say I thought it was boring and confusing and put on a bulletproof vest.

Well, I have a confession to make...

I will go with option three. I don't understand the greatness of Stanley Kubrick's so-called science fiction masterpiece. Yes, I realize that it's one of the most aesthetically gorgeous films ever made, with a classical soundtrack that I completely adore, but it is also one of the slowest, most sparse films I've ever seen, which I guess must be the point, if there is a point at all.

Of course, there is also the option of re-watching it. Not so soon, though. My brain is still trying to recovering from the massive what-the-bleeps I experienced throughout the entire film.

Spoilers ahead: The film begins with a couple of apes. They go seemingly batshit because of their newfound intelligence. There goes the story of the dawn of man. Jump cut into space. Adventure ensues. They find this monolith that the apes saw. It's loud and has unimaginable transformative powers.

Spoilers continue: Eighteen months later, these astronauts are traveling to Jupiter on a mission. The whole spaceship is controlled by robot HAL 9000. Hal is completely fascinating, though, despite the fact that he's a glowing, talking iPod-shaped antagonist. But all good things must end, which is probably why Hal gets DISCONNECTED half an hour before the movie ends. Which means there is half an hour more of this film without Hal. Then this astronaut travels through different colored lights, I guess. He becomes old, then becomes a fetus, and then becomes a gigantic, floating baby. The movie ends.

I think I'm missing something. No, I'm definitely missing something. I looked up different interpretations of the film and, yeah, I knew it was about life and death and all that good stuff. Some say the book is a good source for answers. But the film itself is certainly a long, methodical explanation for what could be summed up in one good paragraph instead of long scenes of pointless visual supremacy.

Roger Ebert's 1997 review does an excellent job at explaining the enduring wonders of 2001, but I continue to feel emotionally disconnected and disengaged about the film. Everyone scene and shot seemed to last forever. I still didn't turn it off, though. I wanted to see what would happen next. My curiosity is rather masochistic.

Though I'm all for art and philosophy. Just wished I understood them better.

Let's talk about this. It's therapy time. Please explain why this iconic science fiction film is deservingly revered. Or someone out there can be a kindred spirit.

You can't handle the star power

2010-04-11T16:28:00.000-07:00

Cruise, Moore, and Pollak stare into the legal abyss. Serious business.

A Few Good Men has numerous flaws, but I am willing to overlook each and every one of them because of how incredibly entertaining and energetic the film is.

Directed by Rob Reiner, who always manages to make films with such an endearing old-fashioned flair, this film represents the bare bones of what makes a conventional court drama riveting. Yes, it's entirely too predictable for a film of its nature, which is perhaps due to the structurally faulty script by Aaron Sorkin, yet the journey to the explicit revelation (that most capable audiences are fully aware of by the time that it is actually revealed) is surprisingly intense and enjoyable.

Though the script is structurally flawed, Sorkin's dialogue is consistently brilliant. The characters speak a language that is witty, biting, and wonderfully true to who they are and what they believe in.

Lt. Daniel Kaffee (Tom Cruise) is a recent Harvard Law School graduate working in the U.S. Navy. He is assigned to defend two Marines accused of murdering a fellow Marine at the Guantanamo Bay Naval Base because of his reputation for arranging plea bargins. Kaffee is assited by his co-counsel, Sam Weinberg (Kevin Pollak), who hopes to carry as little responsibility as possible.

Lt. Commander JoAnne Galloway (Demi Moore), who originally wanted the case, is instead assigned as the case's lead counsel, much to her dismay. But as time passes, Galloway begins to gain some respect for Kaffee and see beyond his razor-sharp cockiness. While Moore may not have been well-suited for the role, her unquestionable chemistry with Cruise, as shown in the scene where she awkwardly asks him out to dinner (no, this is not a unnecessarily romance, though it clearly could have been), complements the film extraordinarily well.

Col. Nathan Jessep (Jack Nicholson), the commanding officer of the two Marines, is a frightening force of nature that is almost impossible to reckon with. He believes in protecting his country and is serious about his duties, yet he relishes the power he has rightfully earned. Nicholson, who has limited screen-time, plays Jessep with a devilish edge and slyness that only Nicholson seem to possess. And, of course, there is that harrowing quote near the end of the film...

Kevin Bacon, Kiefer Sutherland, K.T. Walsh also deliver strong performances in small, but significant roles.

But here is a quintessential nineties film that shows the very essence of star power. An epic battle of persuasion. There is so much high-charged energy radiating from the actors that the film becomes more than a typical courtroom drama. In fact, it's as thrilling as a quality summer blockbuster.

Cruise is particularly excellent here in a lead role that shows off his best qualities as an actor; he manages to give an arrogant hotshot a load of boyish vulnerability and charm, especially in the heart-to-heart conversation Kaffee has with his co-counsel. Kaffee's desperation to live up to his father's name is cliched, yet touching and effective as played by Cruise.

However, the modern film industry no longer depend on star power. Star power, which has been endlessly discussed, is a concept of yesteryear. While big stars are still a valuable asset to any film trying to get financing, it is no longer the primary ingredient to a box-office hit or Oscar winner. Recent box-office moneymakers are not led by an ensemble of big stars, but by innovative technology, word-of-mouth, and a captivating story. As it should be. But I miss the glorious days where star power made a film a must-see, though I bet a viewing of Ocean's Twelve strongly discourages that mindset.

A Few Good Men made me nostalgic for a time where an all-star cast was a prominent subgenre, though that subgenre has long since evaporated into pure silliness. I realize that this is perhaps a good thing, but I sure loved it while it lasted.

While A Few Good Men is admittedly contrived and flawed, its high-wire entertainment value is undeniable. I ignored some of its ambiguities and the obviousness of the inevitable revelation so I could sit back and embrace its awesome cast and stunning genuineness. A

Teen Movie Trailer Showdown: Eclipse vs. Twelve

2010-04-08T18:39:00.000-07:00

Since it's spring break, I have more time to spend my days viewing movie trailers that are relevant to the near-future of my generation.

I just finished viewing the trailer to Eclipse. Is anyone kind of annoyed that Taylor Lautner tells Kristen Stewart that he's going to fight until her heart stops beating? I mean, shouldn't he fight until his heart stop beating? If fighting means keeping her alive?

And is anyone kind of annoyed that neither Taylor Lautner or Robert Pattinson has enough charisma to burn up the screen in a swoon-worthy way? Yeah, I'm sure they go to the gym and work out enough to keep their jobs, but I don't feel any grand magnetism radiating off either of these boys.

Okay, whatever, girls. I didn't even bother to see New Moon, which I'm sure is a great romance about the kind of life-or-death supernatural love triangles typical teenage girls can easily relate to. And Kristen Stewart, I'm sure, is great eye candy, too.

There is also the new trailer to Twelve, a small film that premiered at Sundance to mostly negative reviews. It is directed by BISTF favorite, Joel Schumacher, who also made the unforgettably hysterical (and oddly touching) St. Elmo's Fire and is the brainchild behind the riveting hot mess that is Batman & Robin. However, not to ignore his legitimately finer works, which includes The Phantom of the Opera and Batman Forever.

I spotted the Twelve at a Gossip Girl LiveJournal community because it stars my favorite Upper East Side deadbeat, Chace Crawford. While in Gossip Girl, Chace Crawford plays a clean-shaven slut, in Twelve, he plays a not-so-clean shaven Upper East Side drug-dealer who seems to be constantly haunted by a moderately laughable narration by Kiefer Sutherland. Plus, Twelve is technically Gossip Girl, only darker and more about drugs.

Here, Chace Crawford is in love with Emma Roberts (uh, okay) and deals drugs to the kind of Upper East Side teenage slut that his character in Gossip Girl would love to date, but here, that girl has sex with 50 Cent (no, I'm not kidding) in exchange for drugs? And she gets high around her large collection of stuffed animals (she's so rich!!!), which can actually rival my large collection of stuffed animals? Oh yeah, Rory Culkin is also in this movie.

"Kids" by MGMT plays in the awful trailer. MGMT feels used.

Both Eclipse and Twelve are based on young adult novels.

Eclipse is the third book of the Twilight series (duh). The Twilight series was conceived when author Stephenie Meyer had a dream, which is actually kind of interesting because Mormonism, the religion that Stephenie Meyer is part of, is also conceived from a dream (or vision). Just an interesting parallel I realized, that's all. Completely insignificant to the rest of the post.

Twelve (the book) was written by a 17 year old. Awesome! This is what dreams are made of. I'm sure the book is better, though.

Eclipse will be released on June 30 (a Wednesday) and Twelve will be released on July 2 (a Friday). Of course, Eclipse will dominate the July 4 box-office, so there's no use trying to pit an unnecessary battle between two teen movies of completely different genres aimed partially at the same demographic, but not really.

Anyway. A gun to your head: Which movie (Eclipse or Twelve) would you rather spend your wonderful fireworks weekend watching and why?

Post ends. Just felt like blogging and asking a pointless question.

Happy 2nd Anniversary, BISTF!

2010-03-22T19:17:00.000-07:00

Mozart is attending my anniversary party. That automatically makes me pretty cool.

I forgot to celebrate BISTF's first anniversary. I made an effort not to forget about it this year. I like being part of the precious film blog universe. It's fun and there are tons of awesome opinions floating around from the most dedicated, insightful people I will ever know.

March 22. Nice date to remember.

I had a particularly good day today, despite a two-hour blackout in the evening. Then again, I was accepted to UCSB earlier today, so that definitely lightened up my mood.

A Comparison: The Age of Innocence vs. Dangerous Liaisons

2010-03-20T18:44:00.000-07:00

A truly beautiful shot. I really wanted her to turn around.

I just finished watching The Age of Innocence for the first time. It is an achingly beautiful period piece about a romance that is simply not meant to be.

Director Martin Scorsese has once again proved (to me, at least) that he is a fearless director who possesses endless versatility. Whether it's a biblical epic or a gangster shoot 'em up, Scorsese seems to live and breathe cinema.

The Age of Innocence is no different.

Newland Archer (Daniel Day-Lewis) and Ellen Olenska (Michelle Pfeiffer) are two very compatible people who can't live happily ever after because they fall in love in the wrong time and wrong place. However, Archer is engaged to the young, traditional May Welland (Winona Ryder) and the Countess Olenska is contemplating a socially unacceptable divorce from her Polish husband.

What results is an aesthetically gorgeous feast and a compelling and lightly satirical look at the romance and drama of those who dwell in the gossipy obstacles courses of New York high society of the late 1800s.

What a lovely cinematic couple. Day-Lewis and Pfeiffer should make another film together someday.

And, not to mention, Daniel Day-Lewis, in this film in particular, is incredibly handsome. I thought of how well he is able to wear the period garb in this film and how attractive he made those insane, flamboyant costume pieces in Gangs of New York look. If I were a man, I would want Daniel Day-Lewis' physique. Just sayin'.

Just looking at this picture reminds me of the electricity between Close and Malkovich. What chemistry.

But as I watched The Age of Innocence, I was reminded of another period film (and Pfeiffer flick), Dangeorus Liaisons, directed by Stephen Frears. Frears, for the most part, is almost as versatile as Scorsese but doesn't seem to get the same level of undivided attention.

In Dangerous Liaisons, you have John Malkovich, fearlessly and successfully tearing through a conventional lothario role with his unconventioinal looks. And that impeccable last shot of Glenn Close is simply haunting.

While The Age of Innocence takes place a century later in an entirely different continent, there is the same discreet, hush-hush mentality regarding uncontrollable feelings that deviate from the norm. Yet, strangely enough, everything feels so much more liberated in Dangerous Liaisons. Perhaps that's due to the naturally manipulative nature to the characters in Dangerous Liaisons, in contrast to the characters in The Age of Innocence, who, deep down, just want to do the right thing.

I personally prefer The Age of Innocence, yet I also adore the exciting games played in Dangerous Liaisons, despite the fact that the film does feel too theatrical at times. These films would accompany each other well in a double feature.

So, which film do you prefer: The Age of Innocence or Dangerous Liaisons and why?

The 82nd Academy Awards in a nutshell

2010-03-14T11:42:00.000-07:00

Christoph Waltz receiving his Oscar for his amazing performance in Inglorious Basterds. While completely deserved, it is among a number of predictable Oscar wins of the night.

I was planning to write some sort of review of last week's Academy Awards much sooner (i.e. when people actually cared), but then I realized I just didn't have a lot to say about it.

The last time I truly enjoyed an Oscar ceremony was back in 2007. I would admit that Ellen DeGeneres was certainly not the best host, but that was one of the best-run award shows I've ever seen. Classic Hollywood elegance. Amazing montages. Five wonderful Best Picture nominees. The awesome image of Steven Spielberg, George Lucas, and Francis Ford Coppola presenting Martin Scorsese a Best Director Oscar. I couldn't have asked for more.

So, gorgeous stage. Glad they brought the blue crystals back. The show ran smoothly, though the editing felt a little sloppy at times.

Steve Martin and Alec Baldwin took some awkward, yet amusing teasing shots at the audience. Exactly what you'd expect from two well-known actors who are very much immersed in the inside jokes of the film industry. Far from my favorite Oscar hosts, though. From recent years, I much prefer Jon Stewart's traditional and gracefully comedic hosting style.

I know the Oscars are already longer than they should be, yet I still miss watching the Best Original Song nominees being performed on stage. The Best Original Score performance was pretty damn cool, though. How about that for some DDR?

I love how this time around, they actually brought out actors who are somewhat connected to the Best Actor and Best Actress nominees they are presenting. Last year's introduction of each of the actors by well-known winners of yesteryear is just about the most bizarre cue card session I've ever witnessed. And Forest Whitacker directed Hope Floats? Wow. And, one word: Oprah!

This is perhaps the most predictable Oscar ceremony of recent years. Yes, it was absolutely elegant, strangely random (a montage of...horror movies?), but I wasn't glued to the screen or on the edge. It was a lovely production, but the exciting glamor had been eclipsed by by-the-numbers conventionality.

And the Oscar (blindly) goes to... (2010 edition)

2010-03-06T23:08:00.000-08:00

Ten nominations. Ridiculous.

I rarely do award predictions on my blog because usually, I haven't seen enough of the nominated films to write a credible entry. But consider this a birthday treat to myself. It's not every year that the Oscars ceremony lands on your birthday, right?

The only nominated films I've seen are Avatar, Inglorious Basterds, Julie & Julia, and Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. So that makes me a piss-poor predictor. Anyway...

The bolded types indicate my official predictions.

I want to throw a tantrum when I hear people talk about how Avatar will win Best Picture simply because it has earned a crapload of money. Avatar is simply not worthy of all the ridiculous amount of critical acclaim it has received. It's a fairly well-made film that has deservingly dominated the technical categories, but it is hardly a original, memorable film. Far from Best Picture material.

The only other Best Picture nominee I've seen--Inglorious Basterds--is an astoundingly entertaining spectacle. Since I've never reviewed Inglorious Basterds, I would just like to say how I thoroughly enjoyed Quentin Tarantino's wild, alternate WWII vision, but it simply did not blow me away. Great performances, crackling script, beautifully shot, glorious soundtrack...but I didn't feel that deep, personal connection that I usually feel for truly great films. Perhaps I'm just suffering from being purely underwhelmed by a film that has been loved by almost every other person I've spoken to, but hey, that's a legitimate excuse.

I'd whole-heartedly rather have Inglorious Basterds win the Best Picture win at the end of the day over Avatar. But I have a disgusting feeling that Avatar will take away the top prize. While I haven't seen The Hurt Locker, it currently stands as the only other serious competition Avatar has in the Best Picture race.

Kathryn Bigelow (The Hurt Locker) seems like the likely Academy choice for Best Director. Again, I haven't seen the film, but I have a feeling that Bigelow is partially being awarded because she's a woman with the ability to direct like a man, or at least, the ability to direct a testosterone-fueled one-two punch. And is it kind of ridiculous that Bigelow is being praised as one of the greatest female directors of all-time when The Hurt Locker is probably the only film that she has gotten any serious recognition for? Correct me if I'm wrong about any of the above.

Jeff Bridges (The Crazy Heart) will win because he's a Hollywood veteran, has multiple previous nominations (his first nomination was for 1971's The Last Picture Show), is beloved by his fellow actors, and seems to have delivered a legitimately great performance.

I will preface my prediction for the Best Actress race for bluntly voicing my confusion about the supposed wonders of Meryl Streep's performance in Julie & Julia. And this is coming from a fan who thought her performance in Doubt triumphs Kate Winslet's in The Reader. Streep's performance as Julia Child is certainly an adorable performance. Streep humanizes Child, yet she doesn't quite capture the nuances of the woman behind the French cuisine. I may easily be wrong since Streep has won numerous awards and garned plenty of praise for her performance.

Though Julie & Julia is a pleasant film. Well worth the rental. A film made by women, for women, and doesn't have romance as a primary focus. That's rare.

If Sandra Bullock (The Blind Side) wins, which seems rather likely, I can already imagine people complaining how unworthy her win is for years to come, simply because she has been typecast for years in bubblegum romantic comedy roles and perhaps because of the predictable quality of the film she was nominated for. But I'm sick of predicting with the norm--I want to see Gabourey Sibide (Precious: Based on the Novel Push by Sapphire) pull an Adrien Brody (The Pianist).

Christoph Waltz (Inglorious Basterds) is a lock for Best Supporting Actor. And it really is a devilishly charming, magnetic performance. This category seems to have quite a villain streak--I mean, Javier Bardem (No Country For Old Men) and Heath Ledger (The Dark Knight)? Just sayin'.

Mo'Nique (Precious: Based on the Novel Push by Sapphire) is the name most spotlighted out of the Best Supporting Actress category, so I'm guessing she'll take the gold as well. Though I can totally imagine Vera Farmiga (Up in the Air) pulling a Tilda Swinton (Michael Clayton) and no one really having a problem with it. (While I should see Michael Clayton, I do love, love, love Cate Blanchett in I'm Not There. That's just a stunning performance, man.)

Let's cross our fingers and hope that the telecast won't feel like a terrible mess.

All nominations can be found at IMDb.

If you want to be freaks, be freaks...

2010-02-28T19:05:00.000-08:00

Nope, it's not Benjamin Braddock and Mrs. Robinson. It's Harold and Maude.

There are some films that I simply don't like. They leave a bad taste in my mouth. This happens when I don't like the characters and their motives or the general message of the film. Harold and Maude happens to be one of those films.

Yes, it's a beloved cult classic. If it were made today, it would probably premiere at Sundance and star big-name indie cred actors, such as Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Patricia Clarkson, though I would like to think that any young man who can win a date with someone as gorgeous as Patricia Clarkson is extraordinarily lucky.

Harold and Maude has been compared to The Graduate, which is an unfair comparison, considering how superior The Graduate really is. The Graduate captures a time and place and a satirical mentality disguised by understandable human emotions. There hasn't been a film quite like The Graduate since its release back in 1967. The only comparable thing about those two films are their wonderful soundtracks; The Graduate had Simon & Garfunkel sing its existential blues and Harold and Maude had Cat Stevens sing its free-spirited hues.

That said, Harold and Maude is a film that doesn't know its purpose. Deep down, it wants to question life and death, yet it doesn't. Directed by Hal Ashby, who also directed Being There, a film I didn't particularly like either, Harold and Maude is another film that acknowledges confusion, desires, life, death, dreams, and despair, but it doesn't confront it. Instead, it prods along rather aimlessly.

The film chronicles the gentle friendship between twenty-something Harold and seventy-nine year-old Maude. Harold (Bud Cort) performs fake suicide acts (hanging, drowning, cutting his hand) to get his rich mother's attention. Maude (Ruth Gordon) is a free-spirited senior citizen who intends to live her life to fullest, which means stealing cars and posing nude for paintings. How odd! How quirky! Did I mention they meet at a funeral? Their relationship takes a romantic turn.

But the romance doesn't bother me. No, not at all. They seem like they genuinely care for each other, which is nice. Who am I to be against a loving relationship? What bothers me are the characters themselves. Harold is a two-dimensional, lovesick idiot who seems unwilling to actually do something with his life. He's just an unsympathetically spoiled, privileged kid.

Maude wants to live on the edge...by stealing other people's cars? What a good idea! I'm sure you can find so much fulfillment by doing that. Sure, she's lived an interesting life, but what she does as a hobby causes distress to many people. And no, driving dangerously is not funny. At all. I don't find little old ladies doing horrible things cute or likable, sorry.

And, of course, the stupid ending made me mentally roll my eyes and mumble, "Whatever." Sure, Vivian Pickles does great comedic work here as Harold's self-absorbed mother and the Cat Stevens soundtrack kicks major ass, but Harold and Maude is ridiculous on so many levels that it makes no sense why it has become a revered piece of cinema. C-

I will share my byline with you

2010-02-14T12:07:00.000-08:00

Someone on my journalism class discussion board posted this page of "Journo Valentines" from CJR that I found rather adorable.

How about, "You are the Tracy to my Hepburn" or "You are the Leigh to my Olivier" or any other famous screen couple? Or even, "You are the De Niro to my Scorsese" or "You are the Siskel to my Ebert." You know, all in good fun.

Whatever it may be...Valentine's Day, Single Awareness Day, or Lunar New Year, have a great day, everyone.

Art Imitates Life, Literally

2010-02-08T21:08:00.000-08:00

Welcome to the anti-western. It's a sad, sad genre. No more glorious John Wayne justice around here.

I ask pointless questions all the time: "Where did you buy this?" "Why is the answer to number five 6.52?" "Why did Pip end up with Estella, even though she totally ruined his life?" It annoys many people around me. They accuse me of thinking too much into things that don't matter.

So obviously, this brings me to how I simply don't understand why McCabe & Mrs. Miller is such a revered film. This is what Roger Ebert had to say in his Great Movies entry:

Robert Altman has made a dozen films that can be called great in one way or another, but one of them is perfect, and that one is McCabe & Mrs. Miller (1971).

I am clearly missing something. I haven't seen many Altman films, but I guess I don't need to watch another one if McCabe & Mrs. Miller is as good as it gets.

So, I think the movie is about this gambler named McCabe (Warren Beatty)? And he ends up in the testosterone-ridden middle of nowhere? And he wants to open a saloon and whorehouse? And he becomes partners with a prostitute named Mrs. Miller (Julie Christie) because she understands women better than McCabe does? And McCabe falls in love with her, but she cares more about her opium? And some men want to buy McCabe's property and he refuses and the men decides that it's time to kill McCabe because this is how justice works in the unestablished west?

Um, okay...

The film is blurry. I can't hear the conversations half the time. The actors mumble their lines. A billion conversations are going on in a single scene. And apparently, that was the point?

I do like the part where McCabe delivers that monologue where he confesses his feelings for Mrs. Miller. That's really a sweet, lovely moment, especially when he turns and looks at the whorehouse. Almost a little too hopefully sentimental for the film's desperately cynical atmosphere.

Beatty and Christie's performances are terrific in this film, I just don't care much for the world their characters inhabit. Christie is the perfect firecracker here, though I wish her character belonged in an entirely different world that isn't nearly as grim and depressing. And as for Beatty's McCabe, I wanted him to win at the end of the day. Even under all that beard, Beatty is still pretty darn charismatic.

I understand this is a "slice of life" picture. Yet I've seen documentaries more engaging than this film. When I see a movie, I want to see a movie. Not a lifeless portrait filled with too much Leonard Cohen at random intervals.

So enlighten me, please. Explain why McCabe & Mrs. Miller is "perfect," or close to perfect. Ebert had his say. Not even the film's IMDb page includes any disgruntled viewers to refute. C

Nora Ephron and the Art of the 90s Romantic Comedy

2010-02-07T12:18:00.000-08:00

Nora Ephron directs one of the most shamelessly happy endings on this side of the rainbow. And you can't stop her because it already happened.

Notice the obnoxiously pink aisle at your local grocery store? Yep, it's February. And yep, Valentine's Day is just around the corner.

And while it's the month where single women love to talk about how much they love being single, it's also the month where those single women rent An Affair to Remember against their better judgment. Or because Sleepless in Seattle told them that An Affair to Remember is the best movie of all-time. Little do they know, they would probably be better off watching Sleepless in Seattle.

Whenever I proclaim my love for 90s romantic comedies, I'm typically just thinking of Sleepless in Seattle and You've Got Mail. There are several rare occasions that I include Jerry Maguire, My Best Friend's Wedding, As Good As It Gets, Notting Hill, Much Ado About Nothing (credit goes to Shakespeare, though) and Sabrina in my statement, but most of the time, I'm just actively thinking about Nora Ephron's cinematic fairy tales.

On a side note, I do think Jerry Maguire is a better film (not necessarily a personal favorite, though) than both Sleepless in Seattle and You've Got Mail combined, since it's deeper than mere fluff. It's not generic. It's cynical, frustrated, and absurdly authentic on an emotional level. It's not even on the same level as other 90s romantic comedies. So there is technically no comparison. While most people seem to hail Almost Famous as Cameron Crowe's magnum opus, Jerry Maguire strikes a chord with me that goes beyond any bright-eyed anthem about sex, drugs, and rock 'n roll.

I felt compelled to write this post because of my recent viewing of Joe Versus the Volcano and the numerous times I've recently encountered Sleepless in Seattle and You've Got Mail on basic cable. While I am not favorable towards Tom Hanks and Meg Ryans' first cinematic outing, I've fallen head over heels over their adorable selves in their iconic films together. I don't have any particular purpose for this post, though I do think I want to comment on the current state of romantic comedies or how I don't mind generic romantic comedies or how awesome it is to randomly catch Sleepless in Seattle and You've Got Mail on E! or Oxygen. This post may result into a pointless rant, so I apologize in advance.

Sleepless in Seattle and You've Got Mail make me feel nostalgic. There are sentimental reasons behind my adoration for these films. They remind me of a time when I was 10 or 11 and I started keeping a notebook for movie reviews. I wrote about movies I watched on Saturday nights on television--most of the movies were 90s romantic comedies. Not my favorite genre, but certainly a genre I don't mind watching and talking about. There hasn't been a genre that has evolved so much, yet kept its roots firmly pressed with both formulaic storytelling and sometimes, unquestionable originality, if you know what I mean. It's a versatile genre that's constantly evolving in a billion directions.

Ephron is a pioneer in the constantly evolving sphere of romantic comedies. If she isn't now, she certainly was one. In 1989, she penned the fairly entertaining, adorable, and endearing Rob Reiner-directed romantic comedy, When Harry Met Sally and her screenplay was soon nominated for an Academy Award. Several years later, her screenplay for Sleepless in Seattle was also nominated for an Academy Award.

Ephron has an incredible knack for making extremely witty, pleasant films. Don't scoff this talent--I highly doubt Martin Scorsese or Quentin Tarantino, who both possess legitimate filmmaking talent, can ever achieve, or even attempt, Ephron's feats. (Nor would they want to, but just sayin'.) Ephron's films are several steps away from pure fantasy, yet they are so grounded, in a this-can-happen-to-you kind of way. In addition, Ephron knows how to cast her films well. Her actors, often Hollywood superstars, can play characters with relatable human desires and emotions.

Take Meryl Streep in Ephron's most recent film, Julie & Julia, for example. Streep, a Hollywood superstar, plays Julia Child, a cooking superstar, as this strangely relatable woman who just wants to share her love for French cuisine to American housewives! Streep's Julia Child is determined and ambitious, just like the rest of us.

Ephron's cast of characters are simply people we just want to hang out with. The characters that inhabit Ephron's romantic comedy universe are often upper middle-class folks who are well-read, culturally informed, and rarely make their own coffee in the morning. If we weren't already like them, we wouldn't mind being them.

Back to Sleepless in Seattle and You've Got Mail. They are films that rely on a generic formula. You've Got Mail more so than Sleepless in Seattle. They are also films that are inspired by classic films, again, You've Got Mail more so than Sleepless in Seattle. You've Got Mail is essentially a modern update of The Shop Around the Corner while Sleepless in Seattle is a happy-go-lucky love letter to a rather depressing romantic tragedy, An Affair to Remember. My point is, 90s romantic comedies are, Ephron's films in particular, old-fashioned at heart.

Sleepless in Seattle is a dream with an ending that feels right. You've Got Mail skews to a point where it's almost dangerously cynical. But that's part of Ephron's charm. She's aware that the real world exists and she profoundly acknowledges it in an often hysterical and oddly insightful kind of way. These pieces of surreal realism may be why Ephron's films appeal more to my friends' mothers than my friends themselves.

This brings me to the current state of generic romantic comedies. While many recent romantic comedies succeed by skewing the standards of their genre, the generic ones suffer miserably. Conventions are comforting, but not when they feel like a 12-year-old girl's short story. I am not going to defend those films, though. Made of Honor is a slow-burning embarrassment that comes off as stupidly cute in its own moronic oblivion. The Ugly Truth is perhaps one of the worst movies of the past decade and it's a shame that it did not garner any Razzie recognition because it's a truly horrible, offensive film (more so than innocent Razzie nominees Obsessed or Hannah Montana: The Movie combined). Love Actually, though not an awful film, is awfully cavity-inducing. I am sure the list can go on.

Although I did enjoy Dan in Real Life for one reason or another that I can't even specify, I do think future filmmakers of the romantic comedy genre should turn to classic Hollywood for advice, especially those eager to make the generic type. Ephron did so, with excellent results. I'm not advocating mindless remakes, but I'm advocating the charm that was ever-so-present in the battle of the sexes between Hepburn and Tracy or the lovingly screwball antics between Hepburn and Grant or the clever back-and-forths between MacLaine and Lemmon. Charm is the key. Desperately hoping the two lovers will end up together is the key. Finding two stars who can act toe-to-toe with each other is the key. Being ridiculously chaste doesn't hurt either. Then there you have a fine, though perhaps overly conventional, romantic comedy. But formula can be awfully charming sometimes when done correctly, don't you think?

So remember the classics. Aside for Ephron's films, the Sabrina is a genuinely sweet remake of a 50s Billy Wilder romantic comedy, Everyone Says I Love You feels like a dreamy musical from the 40s or 50s, and Only You is probably loosely inspired by Roman Holiday.

This entry has has gone nowhere, though I do think I have expressed my thoughts in a modestly abstract rant, a mixed bag of sorts. It kind of makes no sense. I guess many can argue that Judd Apatow has done the world of generic romantic comedy genre some favors or how Juno (absurdly overrated) and (500) Days of Summer (a film that I have not seen?! so I can't really comment aside from what I've heard?) satisfied your indie hipster appetites, or how Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind really is a romantic comedy, despite the fact it's totally depressing (I've only read the script, strangely enough), or how 13 Going on 30 and The Proposal are awesome (and they're fun, I guess), but those films simply don't contain the same DNA as a typical 90s romantic comedy, though I might be just being notalgic and have gotten all my emotions terribly confused. Perhaps we should go forward and not back.

But for this Valentine's Day, I do encourage you all to rent Sleepless in Seattle and You've Got Mail because they are fabulously fun films and the chemistry between Hanks and Ryan will not disappoint. These films will make you smile, a core quality that is necessary in every romantic comedy. But I'm sure you know that already. I remain optimistic about the future of romantic comedies, the generic ones in particular. Hollywood will continue making them and I trust that eventually, the genre would hit another jackpot. Or, better yet, Nora Ephron will return to the genre that she once dominated and surprise us all. Bewitched was a decent enough starting point.

If you would like to read an expert strut his stuff, A.O. Scott from The New York Times has written an excellent article about the current state of romantic comedies, A Fine Romance, My Friend, This Is, published in 2008. The article continues to be relevant and brilliant. While I was Googling for some Nora Ephron information, I stumbled across Kid in the Front Row's hilarious post about how awesome Nora Ephron is. So make sure to check 'em out.

And I would like to open a discussion: What are your favorite conventional romantic comedies (happy endings, etc.) of the past 30 years? What would you like to see in future romantic comedies?

Pandora, our new theme park attraction

2010-02-06T16:46:00.000-08:00

Sam Worthington tries to convince me that Avatar is indeed better than Titanic and True Lies. No luck.

UC Riverside sent me an acceptance letter a few days ago. In addition, I received an endearing pop-up brochure of the different departments at the university.

Avatar in 3D is very much like that pop-up brochure. It's impressive for about five minutes, but then the fascination fades. But unlike that pop-up brochure, I can't just tuck it away. I still have to stay in the theater for two-and-a-half hours. I didn't pay $10 for nothing.

James Cameron is a master of cultural phenomenons. He hasn't been original since 1991, yet his films are hyped to a point where they're simply unavoidable. Case in point: Titanic and Avatar. But the difference is, Titanic is a better film, if only slightly. Avatar only proves that, with all the endless cinematic magic that can happen with modern technology, a film is nothing without a great story.

Avatar contains odds and ends of other stories. It's Pocahontas, Jurassic Park, Castle in the Sky, and Splash all rolled up in one big, blue package, though I would much rather watch any of those aforementioned films. Even as Avatar's credits rolls, a poor man's "My Heart Will Go On" begins to hum in the background.

So welcome to the future. Jake Sully (Sam Worthington) is a paraplegic and ex-marine who takes over his deceased brother's avatar since they share the same DNA and in return, Jake might get new legs. Disguised as the Na'vi (the natives of a planet named Pandora) in their avatar form, the humans are able to roam more freely in Pandora. The scientists, led by Grace Augustine (Sigourney Weaver), hope to gain the trust of the Na'vi and study the biology of the planet. But Pandora also contains some sort of precious mineral that Earth needs in order to survive.

Jake thinks being an avatar is really cool! Without any formal training, he's surprisingly competent and comfortable in his new giant, blue body. Now he can walk! Feel the mud on his feet! And, well, fall in love with his Na'vi mentor, Poca--I mean, Neytiri (Zoe Saladana), who wants to kill him, until she finds out he has a strong heart--because some glowing plant organism told her so? I'm barely an expert on Earth botany, so I'm not going to bother to learn about the various supernatural-spiritual plant life on Pandora.

No matter. Jake is the chosen one. He befriends the Na'vi. When the humans decide it's time to destroy Pandora and get what they want, Jake goes into superhero mode and protects the Na'vi, and of course, the woman he loves. What follows is an unexciting series of action sequences. Just when one is about to end, another starts. And it goes on and on and on. Typical Hollywood.

There has been a lot of hurrah about the groundbreaking visual effects in Avatar. Sure, it's impressive, but 162 minutes is a lot of time to stay impressed. Lots of glowing flowers. The trees are kind of lovely. Cool CGI birds. The thought that the actors and their movements were eventually turned into the Na'vi is pretty awesome. Nice waterfalls. There is so much to look at, yet so little I held onto. Avatar feels like a forgettable, never-ending amusement park attraction.

While tech geeks might marvel at the dedication that went into Avatar's visual effects, I am a moviegoer. I don't like effects-driven films, but I still like to entertained, excited, enthralled, compelled, and captivated. I like a film that grabs my attention and never lets go. Avatar is not that film.

The most interesting aspect about Avatar, ironically, is when the film is not in Pandora. Weaver's tough gal scientist is an interesting character who should have had more screen time. She is the stereotypical no-nonsense genius but possesses a conscience that the power-hungry crooks are eager to ignore. The human characters (including Giovanni Ribisi and Michelle Rodriguez) are the film's most captivating bunch.

However, the script is weak. And while some might argue that Cameron's vision isn't about the script, the script should be the foundation for any film. To add insult to injury, Avatar is not fun. 3D doesn't elevate the movie-going experience at all. I don't think watching it in 2D would've made a big difference. While I did get a minor headache, it wasn't a major distraction. I was bored.

Here is a film that has already made box-office history. It may very well go on to win an Academy Award for Best Picture. What a shame, then. I wished I loved it as much as everyone else did. C

The Prettiest (and Bitchiest) Girl in Town

2010-02-05T20:01:00.000-08:00

"Hey, Timothy Bottoms, why do you look so much like Nick Jonas? You don't know about him? Well, he'll be famous in 40 years. But by then, you'll hardly care."

There are film performances that simply resonate with you. They are few and far between, but fortunately, they exist.

For me, one of those performances is Cybill Shepherd's pitch-perfect portrayal of an attention-whoring, shamelessly manipulative small-town rich girl, Jacy Farrow, in Peter Bogdanovich's sexually-fueled coming-of-age story, The Last Picture Show. You may have heard of it.

The Last Picture Show is essentially American Graffiti, with more despair, anxiety, and nudity. That statement might be a slight exaggeration, though. It's a film I hated when I first watched it when I was 14. But here's a suggestion: Don't watch The Last Picture Show if you're a typical 14 year old. You'll hardly care, if you were anything like me. You'll hardly "get" the film, though whether or not you "get" a film depends on your cognitive development. Wait a couple of years, anyway.

It's been several years since I first watched The Last Picture Show, and boy, I'm surprised how much I don't hate the film anymore. Just say the title: The Last Picture Show. It's a beautiful title, isn't it? All the credit goes to writer Larry McMurty. The title itself strikes full-speed nostalgia and longing. A love letter to yesteryear. But really, it's one helluva title.

Enter Anarene, Texas, 1951. It's a classic small town. Everyone knows who's who. Yet the roads are empty. Tumbleweeds roll. Teenagers occasionally drive up to the local cafe to catch a burger. Or meet their dates at the local picture show. The local cafe, pool hall, and cinema are all owned by Sam the Lion (Ben Johnson).

Sonny (Timothy Bottoms) and Duane (Jeff Bridges) are best friends. Duane is dating Jacy (Shepherd), the prettiest girl in town. And of course, you really believe Jacy is the prettiest girl in town, despite her insane antics for attention and admiration. Shepherd illuminates the screen, like a black-and-white beauty. She's absolutely gorgeous. Even Sonny is smitten. Because Jacy is unavailable, Sonny begins an affair with the coach's wife (Cloris Leachman).

But back to Shepherd's performance. Even when I hated the film, I appreciated Shepherd's performance. Whenever the film's engines are about to slow down, Shepherd appears, prepared to steal the show. When Jacy tries to lose her virginity to Duane in the motel room, Shepherd voices her furstrations in such an anxious, funny, and uncomfortable way that I didn't know whether to laugh or cringe.

If portrayed by any other actress, Jacy would be just another snobby rich girl who toys with all the boys in town. But Shepherd makes Jacy something much more than that. Jacy is another insecure teenage girl. She wants approval from everyone she meets. She wants people to think she's fearless, even when she's not, as indicated by the pool party scene. Really, who doesn't want people to think they're the bee's knees? In a way, Shepherd even makes Jacy oddly relatable.

However, Jacy thinks that she can go through life with her looks--not an entirely universal concept, so, not so relatable--but she realizes that sometimes, the situation goes beyond mere looks. And that frustrates her because she almost feels vulnerable and worthless.

But that's what makes Shepherd's performance so admirable. Jacy is a queen bitch--an alluring one, indeed--yet there are so many emotional layers to dissect.

After the filming of The Last Picture Show, Shepherd got Bogdanovich (a doomed love affair) and Leachman won the Academy Award for Best Supporting Actress. While Leachman was fine in the film (I have a feeling her last scene cemented her Oscar win), Shepherd pinched me on the shoulder whenever she showed up on screen. I know not everyone feels the same way as I do about Shepherd's performance, but it's a performance that seduced me. Shepherd should have been at least nominated. What a snub.

As for the film itself, it's rather slow. Sometimes I wonder why the town won't just go ahead and implode already. It's Edith Wharton's Starkfield without the snow. While it's beautifully shot in black-and-white, with a lovely soundtrack, the film is mostly character-driven--perhaps a little too character-driven. But Bogdanovich illustrates the feeling of desperation with just the right mood and tone. It's a feeling that is most proactive after the age of 14, trust me. Perhaps that's why I felt like I understood The Last Picture Show better in my second go-around.

But no matter. Watch The Last Picture Show for Shepherd's performance--along with Johnson, Leachman, Bridges, and Ellen Burstyn's performances. But mostly for Shepherd's. Because she's just pure electricity. Shepherd's Performance: A, The Last Picture Show: B

Me versus a film, part rom-com, part oddball

2010-01-31T10:00:00.000-08:00

Joe (Hanks) and Patricia (Ryan) try to figure out the film so they can explain it to me. No luck.

Tracy and Hepburn. Bogart and Bacall. Olivier and Leigh. Burton and Taylor. Just to name a few of the greatest Hollywood on-screen (and off-screen) couples of all-time.

But being a nineties kid who religiously watched Saturday night movies on television, I have an incredible soft spot for Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan. They have great chemistry together. Along with their million dollar smiles and plain and simple cute-as-a-button mentality, with plenty of thanks to writer and director Nora Ephron, Sleepless in Seattle and You've Got Mail skyrocketed into modern romantic comedy prominence.

Unfortunately (or fortunately), many people have not witnessed Hanks and Ryan's first cinematic collaboration in 1990's Joe Versus the Volcano. It is as accessible as an obscure foreign film, with the exception that it's in English and it's explosively wacky.

Hanks stars as Joe Banks, a hypochondriac who has a miserable office job, full of dim lights and seemingly unsanitary conditions. When he finds out that he has a "brain cloud" and is going to die in six months, he quits his miserable office job and goes on a date with the office secretary (Ryan). When the secretary finds out Joe's going to die in sixth months, she freaks out and leaves him for the night.

Then this wealthy businessman, Graynamore (Lloyd Bridges), somehow heard through the grapevine that Joe is going to die in sixth months. Knowing Joe's courageous past as a firefighter and his current lonely existence, Graynamore gives Joe an offer: He'll let Joe live like a king for several weeks and in the end, Joe will have to jump into the volcano to protect this random island so he can complete some sort of business deal. Joe agrees. "Live like a king, die like a man" as they say.

Joe shops around Manhattan, buying tons of fancy stuff (wine in a violin case, expensive briefcases, umbrella, etc.) that he won't even use since he's going to die in a few weeks, anyway, so I don't really understand the logic to that. But good thing he did because they conveniently become crucial survival items much later in the film!

So Joe goes to Los Angeles (a rest stop before he goes sailing off to the island) and meets Graynamore's dependent, wannabe beatnik? daughter (also played by Ryan) who invests her time painting and writing poetry. Ryan is actually very funny in this particular role (I love the part where she reads her poem once, and then asks if she should read it again), though the plot begins to feel too episodic and weird at this point for me to fully care.

Later, Joe goes on the dock and finds out that he's going to sail to the island with Graynamore's other daughter, Patricia (also played by Ryan). She's the most normal, of course, and the one that Joe falls in love with. There is this awkward monologue Patricia says to Joe on the boat that doesn't really work for the film, though it does establish Patricia as some sort of relatively intelligent and independent young woman at odds with her father. Forced, but it serves its purpose.

Chaos ensues. A terrible storm hits, so Joe and Patricia have to spend days? weeks? floating on Joe's four gigantic briefcases. Joe and Patricia miraculously arrive on the island, only to get the royal treatment from an eager group of natives who are only too ecstatic to meet their hero. And did I mention the natives love orange soda?

Written and directed by John Patrick Shanely, who went on to adapt and direct his own Pulitzer Prize-winning play, Doubt for the screen (a much better, thought-out film in comparison), Joe Versus the Volcano is an extraordinarily strange experience. It's part romantic comedy, part fantasy, part camp, part oddball. The film treads between the lines of a wicked dark comedy and an awkward screwball comedy.

I never knew what the film was trying to say or do, I just knew what was going to happen in the very end. If it had taken the twisted, unpredictable devil's path and gone with a more unconventional ending, Joe Versus the Volcano would've had a chance to be more different than it already is and at the very least, a little more interesting.

Hanks and Ryan are a likable pair here. Oh, they haven't yet reached the ultraviolet cuteness of their later roles as conventional rom-com soul mates, but they sure know how to shine even in a deep, dark hole. Another likable aspect of the film is its upbeat, mood-setting soundtrack.

Joe Versus the Volcano is supposedly a cult film and I wish it all the potential midnight screenings in the future. If you happen to be in the Joe Versus the Volcano cult, the more power to ya. But it's not my cup of tea. My dad echoed my exact sentiments upon finishing the film: "I don't get it." I'll unapolegetically take the predictable, mainstream Ephron films instead, thank you very much. C

The 2000s, A Decade in Retrospect...Harry Potter

2010-01-10T21:55:00.000-08:00

[from The Art of M.S. Corley: Harry Potter Redesign]

The 2000s, A Decade in Retrospect is a series where I will be professing my love to the pop culture wonders that I discovered during this decade, but not specific to this decade.

I like Harry Potter. For the most part, at least.

Like many kids my age, I remember counting down the days until the next Harry Potter book comes out. I would wake up early in the morning and make my mom drive me to the local Costco to pick up a copy. I never bothered with the midnight parties where kids dress up as wizards and pop Bertie Bott's jelly beans. I like to have some sleep to restore my energy before I embark on the journey of spending the entire day and night reading the damn book just to know what happens in the magical world J.K. Rowling has so vividly and masterfully created.

I liked to think I was competing against everyone else. If not everyone else, I wanted to finish before all my friends did. I wanted to finish first so I could annoy them with that particular fact and constantly threaten to spoil the ending.

I jumped on the Harry Potter bandwagon a bit later than everyone else. My dad was frustrated that I've never read it, so he demanded that I get a copy so I'd know what's up with the rest of the world. He was concerned that I wasn't culturally informed. My dad is one of those people who always wants me to be in the know, even though he doesn't really care about being in the know himself. That's both a blessing and a curse. Or more like an excuse to feel awesome for remembering useless information.

I was eight when I read the first book. I didn't really understand what the fuss was all about. I don't think I even paid any attention. But my dad bought me the second book, anyway, because I wanted to own it, in case I ever wanted to know what happened. I read the first few pages of the second book and put it down. Didn't get back to it until nearly a year later.

It was one of those nights when I was in the third grade when I had nothing else better to do than...read. (Yeah, I wished I were raised on the foundation that reading was considered really fun, too.) I looked over at the bookshelf and saw Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets penetrating deep into my eyes, begging me to read it...well, that's the dramatic version, at least. But anyway, I sat down, read the book, and kept on reading. I eventually finished the book within a week. Thought it was fabulous. Gilderoy Lockhart is a one-of-a-kind personality and Kenneth Branagh does so much justice to the character, since in a way, Branagh is essentially playing a version of himself.

I went back and read the first book, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone...twice. Loved that book too. I don't know why I didn't care for it in the first place. It's a modern rags to riches story, with a magical twist. Forget the boredom of Goodbye, Mr. Chips; there is so much wonder fueled within that British boarding school that most kids wouldn't mind leaving their ordinary public schools and change into those lovely school uniforms. Harry Potter attends to Hogwarts, a school with delectable feasts for every holiday, seemingly comfy dorms, mail delivered by owls, jelly beans with unimaginable flavors, and magic at every corner. Sure, Lord Voldemort is one helluva villain, but Dumbledore always manages to save the day. So there's nothing really to worry about.

I was completely enamored with Hogwarts. It's undeniably another Narnia. I wanted to be in Gryffindor or Ravenclaw. I've always felt kind of pathetic that I was more Hufflepuff material, anyway. But Hogwarts was truly my dream school. Still is.

I had to read the third book, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. I borrowed it from my neighbor. Devoured that one within a week as well. I pretended that my milk was butterbear for the next five months. My mom bought me the fourth book, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, for Christmas. It is one of the most captivating novels ever to include a tournament with life-threatening dragons, dreamlike mermaids, and a raging maze. And being a romantic, I wanted to attend the Yule Ball. My cousin finished it before I did and kept threatening to spoil it. I wouldn't let her.

The fifth book, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, is what I consider fantasy royalty. Although it has the reputation of being the longest (some might say, slow) Harry Potter novel, it is also the most fully-realized. It's not merely escapism anymore; it's a story about these characters that I have gotten to know and love. The scene where Neville Longbottom visits his parents at the hospital is what great, emotional literature is made of. It broke my heart that Rowling never seemed to reach the same height of brilliance.

It all went downhill. Some Harry Potter fanatics might disagree, but to me, the fifth book fueled me with such expectations that the sixth and seventh books were never able to satisfy. Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince and Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows always felt like, at least to me, a sad mirror image of my childhood obsession. Sure, there are plenty of novels that are much worse, but the most devastating tragedy is to realize that everything could have been better.

Half-Blood Prince reads like above-average fanfiction. The overwhelmingly moronic teen romances, the ridiculous, one-brain subplot, etc. I disliked the book so much that I actually found the film adaptation a rather pleasant surprise. The film was able to cut all the snogging fest and focus on the magic and suspense of Hogwarts. That was what made the film brilliant: it emphasized what Rowling did best.

Deathly Hallows is a hallow disappointment. Sloppy, coincidental, and infinite pages of three bickering teenager camping out in various middle-of-nowheres. I couldn't care less.

Unlike many fans that I personally know, I completely enjoy the films as much as I enjoy the books--even more so, in the case of Half-Blood Prince. The films are better than most children's fare because they are clear-cut epics with the wonderful ability to shut the kids up. I remember watching Half-Blood Prince with a theater full of kids and for those two and a half hours and barely anyone made a squeak.

I am also continually impressed by Alan Rickman, who plays the sinister Severus Snape with such sarcasm, wit, complexity, and presence. Snape is my favorite Harry Potter and always will be. He's extraordinarily complex and conflicted. He has everything that a great literary character should have.

There is also the question on why Hermione would ever choose Ron over Harry. Or why Harry would ever choose little Ginny Weasley over Hermione. It makes no sense to me, whatsoever. Ever since I read the first book, I jumped on the Harry and Hermione bandwagon. They were the first couple I've ever shipped. And, I'm always glad to see how much chemistry Daniel Radcliffe and Emma Watson have together.

But despite my slight qualms, I like to remember Harry Potter in its full-fledged glory. Rowling has created a world for the ages and no one can ever take that accomplishment away from her.

The 2000s, A Decade in Retrospect...I discover The Godfather

2009-12-28T11:26:00.000-08:00

[from The Godfather: Part II]

The 2000s, A Decade in Retrospect is a series where I will be professing my love to the pop culture wonders that I discovered during this decade, but not specific to this decade.

When I was eleven, the only legitimate live-action "classic" I've seen and loved, released before 1990 was Rain Man. I loved the movie to pieces. Thought Dustin Hoffman was fantastic. Tom Cruise as well. The ending touched my tremendously. I still think positively of that film, though repeated viewings have diminished my heightened adoration.

But The Godfather was the film that turned on my curiosity for the realm of cinematic classics. I'd like to think that, without The Godfather, I would have never touched It's a Wonderful Life, The Philadelphia Story, or Roman Holiday with a ten-foot pole. Anything before the 80s would still be, sadly, off-limits for me, as far as my interests go.

I saw The Godfather by accident.

I was surfing the TV Guide website on my old dial-up Internet connection, looking for a movie to watch with my mom for the remaining duration of a lazy Saturday afternoon. I told her that The Godfather was going to be on network television today later in the afternoon. While I may have been bored, sitting in front of the television for four hours watching a single movie didn't sound very inviting.

But my mom managed to live forty years of her life avoiding The Godfather movies altogether. She said she wanted to see it. I told her I was uninterested.

I remember seeing The Godfather movies on the shelves of the local video rental store and while I was curious about them, a 70s mafia epic was never supposed to suck me in. I still preferred Mary Kate and Ashley movies at the time.

But I was really bored. When the movie started, I decided to sit down and give that sepia-tinted world a whirl. I knew I could leave at any time. But I didn't leave, unless you count in the occasional bathroom breaks.

While I wasn't too impressed with the first half-hour or so (I have learned to appreciate those scenes by now), the iconic scene when Michael Corleone (Al Pacino) goes to the restaurant and shoots Sollozzo and McCluskey to prove his allegiance to his family pulled me right in.

There aren't many scenes like that and even less that are so well-acted and well-directed. The intensity boils at such a high temperature that the moment everything cracks, it feels like someone just kicked open that imaginary cinematic door for the film and the audience become one.

Pacino's performance was the reason I stayed around to watch that phenomenal scene. He is simply an incredible actor. While his recent film choices have been questionable, Pacino has unquestionable screen presence. I couldn't leave my seat, not after the moment where Michael tells his girlfriend, Kay (Diane Keaton) about who his family is and what they do.

While I wasn't completely sucked in yet, but I was already partially invested in Michael Corleone. I tend to forget about Vito Corleone (Marlon Brando) altogether. I haven't seen many Brando films, but from what I have seen (this and A Streetcar Named Desire), I don't care for him, but that might as well change in the future.

That said, Michael Corleone is my favorite film character of all-time.

This is perhaps why I love The Godfather: Part II. I saw it two years after I've seen the original (I don't know why it took so long) and thought it was absolutely brilliant. In the winter break of eighth grade, I watched The Godfather: Part II four times. And considering it clocks around 3 hours and 20 minutes, I believe I achieved something fantastically awesome. Or that I have no life. But either way, it was worth it.

Parallel storytelling has never been done better. Robert De Niro is intimidating, touching, devastating, cunning, and self-assured as young Vito. The scene where Vito kills Fanucci is a powerful scene, the kind that you watch and gasp for breath afterward. And when Vito joins his family and tells baby Michael that he loves him very much, we get a telling glimpse into the Vito-Michael dynamic.

We realize that Michael's destiny has always been to inherit Vito's crime empire. While Vito may have respected Michael's initial wishes to not be part of the bullet parade, Vito knew, deep down, that Michael was the only son with the potential to keep things in order.

We see Vito's rise juxtoposed with his son's modern personal downfall. Michael has everything a mafia don desires: Intelligence. Power. Success. Michael is sucking up the American Dream with a vacuum. But his personal relationships are crumbling.

Michael's wife, Kay is pregnant and unhappy; Michael has failed to keep his promise to make the family business legitimate. Michael's brother, Fredo (John Cazale), is jealous and angry of his worthless and easily replaceable position in the business. Michael's sister, Connie (Talia Shire) is still mad at him for what he's done to her husband and tries to distract herself with escapades with randon men.

While Vito was loved and respected by his family, Michael is too cold to be embraced by anyone. He can get the job done, but no one close to him is going to bother to congratulate him at the end of the day.

The Godfather: Part II also features two of the most criminal Oscar snubs of all-time: John Cazale and Diane Keaton. Sure, Lee Strasberg is an interesting antagonist and Talia Shire delivers a good performance, but Cazale and Keaton's performances are explosions in epic proportions. I think of Cazale in the boat house scene. I think of Keaton in the hotel room scene. The fact that their performances were dismissed by the Academy back in 1973 was, and always will be, blasphemous. I can't think of better examples of Academy injustice.

But it goes back to Pacino, who is brilliant in every frame of the film. I have never felt so much sympathy for a fictional murderer in my life. I think of the person Michael was, and the person he became. He didn't want any of this. But he's completely capable in fulfilling his duties. He's incredibly good at the job he unwillingly (and over time, willingly) does. Somewhere down the road, he got lost. He doesn't know if he's doing this for his family, his deceased father, or for himself. But he's constantly keeping everything together when he so desperately wants it to all shatter.

The last scene is heartbreaking, every time I think about it. It masterfully creates the desolate state of loneliness. Michael has lost everything he cares about. He has become the man he feared he would become.

But the transformation is complete and there's no going back.

Yet he does in The Godfather: Part III. I love that movie and will defend it when necessary. I even wrote a self-titled "love letter" to the film this past summer because I wanted to.

Pacino is, once again, excellent in The Godfather: Part III. Michael is softer now and more like Vito. But his ex-wife, Kay, still doesn't respect him. Michael's family business is still not legitimate, although he really is trying this time around. It's a riveting portrait that is indeed crumbling, yet everything still feels so alive.

It is an inescapable spiral that never ends.

I became obsessed with The Godfather for a while. I went on GangsterBB practically everyday to read the posts. I watched films that Godfather fans enjoyed (Scarface sucks, GoodFellas rocks). I watched a crapload of Pacino movies for a period of time because damn, the man's thrilling to witness as any character in any movie. I even read Mario Puzo's novel, which pales in comparison to the films.

While the choice trilogies of my generation usually included only The Lord of the Rings and Pirates of the Caribbean, I rebelled and embraced The Godfather. Because there is no other story in cinema quite like it.

It's Christmastime once again...

2009-12-24T21:56:00.000-08:00

In celebration of the most wonderful time of year, I'd like to share a Christmas song that is often overlooked during the holiday season. It is John Williams' "Somewhere in My Memory," the theme to the 1990 Christmas classic, Home Alone. It's absolutely the sweetest thing. In fact, it purely reminds me of church choirs, candy canes, homemade cookies, and warm, friendly fireplaces. Please enjoy...

I hope you all are able to spend Christmas with your loved ones! And wear plenty of layers to fight the winter frost! I do know it's surprisingly chilly here in the west coast.

The 2000s, A Decade in Retrospect...Gossip Girl

2009-12-22T00:34:00.001-08:00

[from the "Vanity Fair" August 2008 photoshoot]

The 2000s, A Decade in Retrospect is a series where I will be professing my love to the pop culture wonders that I discovered during this decade, but not specific to this decade.

Teen drama has never been so sensationally addictive and relentlessly glamorous until Gossip Girl entered my life in the summer of 2009.

When the ultimate Upper East Side teenage high society queen, Blair Waldorf (Leighton Meester) and the sunny, charming "it" girl Serena van der Woodsen (Blake Lively) finally meet eye-to-eye on a rainy day in Central Park, I was sold. Blair spills her heart out to Serena: Blair's father left her mother for a male model, her boyfriend has been acting weird...and her best friend wasn't there for her as all this unfolded.

Bitching, back-stabbing, and uncomfortable confrontations. All that comes to an abrupt halt. Instead, we see Blair and Serena as who they really are and who they really want to be: best friends. Could Gossip Girl be a show with a...soul?

After years of rejecting the glitzy teen phenomenon, I became a fan. Gossip Girl turned out to be less shallow than I initially thought it was. Oh, yes, it may take place in a delusional universe of impeccable fashion sense, poreless skin, lovely make-up, drool-worthy shoes, and last but not least--perfect hair! served with a fair share of teen drinking and sex. But it's also a show with surprisingly likable characters and a cast with young, attractive talents who can deliver surprisingly engaging performances.

And to top it off, the picturesque New York cinematography and hip-chic soundtrack is literally to die for. Kristen Bell's narration as the mysterious title blogger adds to the scandalous! factor to the show, just like sugar and spice does to any dish.

On an aesthetic level, Gossip Girl completely dominates.

But underneath all those fabulous designer items, it's really, a superbly entertaining television show. Especially season one. I'm sad to say that it has gone slightly downhill, or, slightly crooked, in terms of quality. But season one is blessed with so much pure, melodramatic fun to a point that it's deliciously irresistible.

I was familiar with Gossip Girl producer, Josh Schwartz's previous project, The O.C., a teen soap focusing on the privileged youth of Orange County. I didn't watch the show religiously, so naturally, I didn't have high expectations for Gossip Girl. I also knew that Gossip Girl was adapted from a series of books by Cecily von Ziegesar, but trashy teen novels were never my style. If I had to spend time pouring over hundreds of pages of words, I prefer to read something that would stimulate my mind, thank you very much.

(I did admittedly finish the first book in the series recently. So why are people complaining about Twilight being a literary atrocity when Gossip Girl exists? Thanks for the idea, von Ziegesar, but thank goodness Schwartz and co-creator Stephanie Savage came in, like the TV superheroes they truly are, and reconstructed von Ziegesar's ridiculous UES world from an annoying toxic wasteland of robotic idiots to a world that's a little more...human.)

The pilot episode of Gossip Girl drew me in immediately. Peter Bjorn and John's "Young Folks" always remind me of that alluring opening sequence. The entire cast is fueled with endless chemistry.

The fairy tale romance between middle-class loner, Dan Humphrey (Penn Badgley) and redeeming party girl, Serena van der Woodsen is the most endearing romance since the mini love story in Billy Joel's "Uptown Girl" music video. Their romance was briefly threatened by the arrival of Dan's blatantly boho-styled friend Vanessa (Jessica Szhor), but then Dan and Serena just continued being awesome. Too bad the refreshing take on the Ross-and-Rachel concept only lasted one season until it all went downhill.

The troubled golden couple, Nate Archibald (Chace Crawford) and Blair Waldorf added some tension to the seemingly pitch-perfect landscape of lovely penthouses and sparkling martini glasses. While I originally thought Serena may be the continuously threatening corner of the central love triangle, it turned out to be the notoriously boozed-up local bad boy, Chuck Bass (Ed Westwick), who has his hard-to-crack heart set on Blair.

Then there's Dan's ambitious, social-climbing little sister, Jenny (Taylor Momsen), who tries to fit into her snobby private school--especially Blair's inner circle--without a pricey outfit from Bendel's. And it wouldn't be a proper teen soap opera without some middle-aged romance added into the mix: Dan's ex-rocker father, Rufus (Matthew Settle) and Serena's socialite mother, Lily (Kelly Rutherford) were once old lovers in their wilder days. They inevitably reconnect.

Season two happened. The sometimes-frustrating, sometimes-interesting will-they-won't-they cat-and-mouse game between Chuck and Blair commenced in a style that even John Hughes would have found to be too angsty. Then Jenny destroyed her pretty face and hair with a heavy load of eyeliner and a constant bad hair day. Then Dan had an unnecessary affair with an English teacher that I didn't give a damn about. Yet Nate was useless (as usual), until we met his horrifically devious family that happens to include the most badass grandfather ever.

There goes a completely unbalanced season. Ended on a fairly high note, though.

Unfortunately, the first ten episodes of season three didn't do any favors for the show. But with the amazing mid-season cliffhanger, there may be hope for Gossip Girl after all. The most recent episode brought back what I loved about the show in the first place: blackmail, back-stabbing, bitching, the great relationships, and the surprisingly good acting.

Ed Westwick continues to be criminally underrated, simply because he's on a CW teen soap opera. He has convincingly molded Chuck from the bad boy/date rapist he was back in season one into this mature, caring young man who is destined for great things. There were moments in season two, despite the overly angst-up writing, where I just thought, damn, why doesn't Ed Westwick get major award recognition for this? This is character development done right. His achingly touching performance in "The Debarted" (3x12) proves that he can strike gold twice. Just like any good actor would.

While I wouldn't call myself a super-duper "Chair" (Chuck/Blair) obsessive, I do like their scenes together. Westwick and Leighton Meester have this electrifying, passionate chemistry that I can't deny. Their unforgettable limo scene in season one, ingeniously set to Sum 41's "With Me," has been etched in my memory forever. But I prefer to see Meester's Blair as a lone warrior, fearlessly tackling her enemies on her own, with vulnerabilities to boot. That is when Meester is the most fierce and interesting. The funny thing is, Blair's a bitch, but she's just too human to fill us with despair.

Another thing I adore about the relatively impressive latter half of season three (so far) is Taylor Momsen's Jenny. She may have the drabbest outfits (and isn't she supposed to be rich now?), but her gradual rise to teenage queendom is completely enticing. I love that Jenny is becoming a bitch--a drug-dealing bitch, no less. I love that she practically has no friends since she alienated her gay stepbrother Eric (Connor Paolo) from her queen bee lifestyle. And since they called truce, it makes you wonder: Did they really mean it? In short, I love Jenny's storyline this season and I don't care if you disagree.

And...who knew Chace Crawford had such good comedic timing? The days where Nate constantly looked stoned, confused, and retarded are officially a thing of the past. I welcome the randomly lovesick Nate who learned to emote and do heroic deeds that I actually want to root for.

While season three may be looking up, season one is still one of the most perfect seasons I've ever witnessed, especially by teen soap opera standards. Even if Gossip Girl never returns to its former glory, it will still hold a certain place in my adolescent heart. Every teenage girl needs a show in her life that's totally corrupt, full of random love triangles, and acted out by gorgeous people. Gossip Girl successfully fills that void to the very brim. With sin, squalor, and lots of xoxos.

The 2000s, A Decade in Retrospect...ION airs The Wonder Years

2009-12-20T18:25:00.000-08:00

[images courtesy of The Wonder Years]

The 2000s, A Decade in Retrospect is a series where I will be professing my love to the pop culture wonders that I discovered during this decade, but not specific to this decade.

"Growing up happens in a heartbeat. One day you're in diapers, the next day you're gone. But the memories of childhood stay with you for the long haul. I remember a place, a town, a house like a lot of other houses, a yard like a lot of other yards, on a street like a lot of other streets. And the thing is, after all these years, I still look back, with wonder."

In the uneventful summer of 2007, I stumbled upon the late-eighties coming-of-age half-hour dramedy, The Wonder Years. The show delicately chronicles the adolescence of Kevin Arnold during the escalating confusion and violence of the Vietnam War.

I was immediately hooked. ION played three cycles of the entire show, thankfully. I was able to consume all six seasons in a very short period of time. I was completely in love with a television show for the very first time.

The performances. The script. The amazing soundtrack.

Fifties, sixties, and seventies pop never sounded so cool and timeless. I used to listen to The Stylistics' "You Are Everything" and Bob Seger's "We've Got Tonight" back-to-back because those songs always reminded me of the scenes in the show and how much I wished my adolescence was filled with that kind of innocent puppy-love romance.

While I've always love nostalgia when used effectively in every artistic medium I've ever encountered, I've never seen it done like this. The show is, and always will be, a sweetly sentimental masterstroke of television genius. You don't have to live and breathe knowledge of mid-twentieth century Americana to completely relish the hormonal antics of The Wonder Years. It simply the best television show I've seen about the process of growing up in suburbia.

Fred Savage's brilliant turn as Kevin showcases an adolescent under the influence of angst, infatuation, humor, heartbreak, brattiness, and confusion. Savage is a natural; the obvious crux of the show. Season four highlights Savage's capability to believably deliver the most heartbreaking moments of adolescence.

Speaking of season four, it is perhaps one of the best seasons of any television show ever. I was left speechless when I watched the captivatingly dramatic, achingly devastating two-parter, "Heartbreak" and "Denial." I got teary-eyed when Kevin discovers the necklace Winnie Cooper (Danica McKellar) leaves on his bus seat, shortly after their break-up. I got even more teary-eyed in the aftermath of the break-up when Winnie tells Kevin that she wants to be friends and Kevin insists he doesn't want to be friends. He honestly believes, in his achingly fragile teenage heart, that he loves her. And we believe that too.

To me, Kevin and Winnie are the ideal sweethearts, simply because they aren't perfect. Their relationship is confusing, like all relationships are. But they keep coming back to each other because well, they can. I've always wanted a relationship like Kevin and Winnie's, but I'm already at the latter edge of adolescence, so I guess it's a little too late.

Being a Kevin and Winnie fan, I embrace season six with opens arms, which is my second favorite season of the series. Some fans may feel cold towards season six, but after those random missteps in season five, season six is a refreshing surprise. But it's the most human and consistent season. It makes me wish there is indeed a season seven. But thanks, ABC and the TV gods for annihilating the existence of a season seven for me. My life is sorrowfully imperfect without it.

I especially like how Kevin and Winnie matured into two teenagers who can be a steady couple and work out problems together. Kevin is no longer pining for Winnie because he doesn't have to. And Winnie isn't playing games with Kevin anymore because she knows that Kevin cares for her--always have been, and always will. Winnie may not be the most likable character, but McKellar's performance makes us see her the way Kevin sees her: flawed, yet a desirable object of affection.

And in one of my favorite episodes (from season five, amazingly enough), "Double Double Date" shows the chemistry between Savage and McKellar at its most electrifying and fantastical:

It's good to be a teenager, right?

While I may adore The Wonder Years for the adolescent romance between Kevin and Winnie, the supporting characters are also memorable.

Jack (Dan Lauria), a middle America breadwinner, who is, I believe, what 80% our fathers really are like. Jack Arnold is the anti-Bill Cosby because fathers like Jack are real, not products of the laugh tracks of sitcom land.

Wayne (Jason Hervey), is another character that strikes a chord with me. He's a bully of an older brother, but he's also human, susceptible to all kinds of vulnerabilities. One of the great things about season six is that Wayne matures into the kind of man who can be relied and trusted. The New Year's episode shows Wayne at his most authentic; he's more than a caricature of childhood or a comedic stereotype--he has a heart that can be broken.

Daniel Stern's narration as the "older Kevin" is also one of the grander highlights of the show. The lines that hit home and choked me up are mostly in narration, a role that Stern plays wonderfully.

The Wonder Years is not a perfect show, though. There are episodes that are terribly preachy. There are several rotten episodes (mainly in season five) that I try to weed out of my memory. Kevin's best friend, Paul Pfeiffer (Josh Saviano), always annoyed me. Thank goodness most of the episodes does not focus on the Kevin and Paul friendship because I couldn't care less. I was actually glad when Kevin found new best friends in season six because well, people change.

But despite these minor flaws, The Wonder Years is still amazing. There is so much emotional authenticity to the very best episodes that most shows of its kind can barely achieve or even come close. I feel like a thorn get stuck in my heart every time I re-watch some of the scenes on Youtube. Now, all they have to do is release the damn show on DVD...and perhaps this is just wishful thinking, but I'd like the original music on it too, please!

Elf, a Christmas classic in the making

2009-12-20T14:44:00.000-08:00

This has been a depressing decade for family-centric Christmas classic wannabes. Truth is, there hasn't been many. Thankfully, Jon Favreau's 2003 Christmas family comedy, Elf exists.

When Will Ferrell delivers a great performance, he delivers a great performance. The man has legitimate talent, which makes you wonder why he even allows himself to star in distasteful atrocities of cinematic doom. Just watch Ferrell in The Producers and Stranger Than Fiction. He can convincingly sing and dance and search for the meaning of life.

Most members of the (not so) prestigious Hollywood "frat pack" are capable of some sort of acting greatness, but not when they resort to the downgraded cheapness of bathroom humor.

But Elf is a delightful mixture of semi-distasteful humor (toned down for the kids) and genuine warmth that celebrates the over-the-top sentimentalism of the Christmas spirit. Ferrell sells it, through and through. Even if it means running through the streets of Manhattan in yellow tights.

The film opens in the North Pole. Buddy the Elf (Ferrell) is obviously bigger than all the other elves at Santa's Workshop. He finds out that he's really human. Buddy's mother gave birth to him, without his father's knowledge; his mother has since passed away.

But Buddy's adopted father, Papa Elf (Bob Newhart), encourages Buddy to find his adopted father in New York City. Before Buddy begins his adventure, Santa (Edward Asner) warns Buddy that his father is on the naughty list.

Buddy arrives in New York City, dressed in his laughably cartoonish elf costume, eager to meet his father, Walter Hobbs (James Caan). Walter is a frustrated workaholic at a children's book publishing company and clearly thinks Buddy is insane. Walter initially tries to escape Buddy's constant pursuit of a father-son relationship, but after a DNA test makes it clear that Buddy is indeed his son, Walter brings him home.

While Walter's family (son, Daniel Tay; wife, Mary Steenburgen) quickly warms up to Buddy, Walter sees Buddy as another problem for him to solve. Walter's already under pressure to produce a new children's book idea for the company.

Meanwhile, Buddy falls for a department store employee (Zooey Deschanel), who can sing a wonderful rendition of "Baby, It's Cold Outside."

Very few comedies make me laugh out loud. That might be a reason why I avoid them or show very little interest in them. But Elf makes me laugh. It's filled with clever one-liners and ridiculously absurd scenes. The film is also surprisingly touching; it's almost a coming-of-age, search-for-identity film, disguised in red-and-green wrapping paper.

Caan embodies a disgruntled modern Scrooge terrifically. The character doesn't call for ditzy comedy, but the way Caan delivers those cold-hearted lines is funny in its own chillingly sarcastic way.

While some may argue that Deschanel's deadpan deliveries and astounding indie chick quirkiness is not everyone's cup of tea, she is a damn good singer. She makes "Santa Claus is Coming to Town" sound like an essential for a Christmastime mixtape.

The arrival of an egocentric children's book author (Peter Dinklage) is a hilarious scene. Dinklage establishes how much of a fearless comedian he is, who can nearly overshadow Ferrell's overbearingly optimistic joker. In fact, Dinklage even beats up Ferrell's Buddy because of an unintentional insult Buddy makes. It's a scene that you expect to get old, but doesn't.

Elf fits into the Christmas film genre scheme perfectly. Christmas in New York. Ice skating at Rockefeller Center. Gimbels department store. Central Park. Mean corporate workaholics. Kickass Christmas soundtrack. It's a silly, endearing family movie. But that's not all there is to it.

Instead of being one big, sloppy continuation of cliches, the film is surprisingly original and warm--a quality that we don't see very much in the genre anymore. Yes, it is predictable, but it's the journey that matters. There is some sort of heart and good intentions to be found in Elf, underneath all those sparkling Christmas lights.

Time to make room for Elf...right next to Frank Capra's 1946 classic, It's a Wonderful Life. And no, that is not an exaggeration. Elf is, undeniably, a Christmas classic in the making. A-

Katharine Hepburn: the woman, the romantic

2009-12-11T16:13:00.000-08:00

This entry was written for the Katharine Hepburn Blog-a-Thon over at Encore Entertainment.

On-screen, Katharine Hepburn epitomized independence, intelligence, and talent.

But off-screen, she was human, even a romantic. In Hepburn's autobiography, Me: Stories of My Life, I connected with an actress without a script in sight. Her autobiography may not be a literary masterpiece by any means, but it is achingly personal and extraordinarily touching.

Hepburn was often a fiesty spitfire on screen, yet her off-screen persona was merely a reflection of that. Deep down, she was just as vulnerable as the rest of us.

Hepburn grew up in an educated, progressive family. She was the first to discover her brother's dead body, presumably a suicide. After her divorce from her supportive husband, she felt a sense of guilt that she finally repaired towards the end of his life. She also had to overcome a tough "box office poison" phase, which ended with the success of classic romantic comedy, The Philadelphia Story.

Behind the scenes of Woman of the Year, Hepburn and Spencer Tracy fell in love. Tracy was married. The affair created quite a scandal, yet in Hepburn's autobiography, she didn't feel any sense of regret. It is widely understood that Tracy and Hepburn's romance was not perfect, but in her autobiography, Hepburn wanted to remember the affair the way she wanted it to remember it. Tracy was a complex man, but Hepburn saw him as her greatest object of affection. Like us, she wanted to believe that they were indeed soul mates.

While Me is far from a Hollywood tell-all, it is an engaging window into the life of one of the silver screen's most iconic, striking film stars and the industry she lived in. Hepburn may not have been the most eloquent writer, but I have a feeling that she was one helluva conversationalist.

The cute stalker or the dreamy coward? Take your pick.

2009-12-06T11:08:00.000-08:00

Wow, Duckie is lurking in the shadows, just like a creepy stalker he actually is.

This entire post is a spoiler. So beware.

Love hurts. But you already knew that.

Yet that is precisely what Pretty in Pink is about. Duckie (Jon Cryer), Andie's (Molly Ringwald) sweet-faced, puppy-eyed best friend, is also deeply, deeply, deeply in love with her. He is so in love with her that he would ride his bike by her house everyday and pretty much stalk her at the record store where she works. But in the end, he loves her enough to let her go, so she can end up with the dreamy, popular Blane (Andrew McCarthy).

In the original ending, Duckie and Andie were together in the end. The test audience didn't like it and Ringwald didn't like it either. Ringwald confessed that she would have liked to see Duckie and Andie end up together if Robert Downey Jr. had played Duckie because she thought Downey was "cuter." Quite understandable.

The official ending has been the topic of much debate over the past twenty-three years (or at least IMDb makes it seem that way). I believe that most women, twenty-three years later, realized that, if they had the chance to go back in time, they would choose the "Duckie" of their high school lives, over the "Blane." Nothing screams love more than undying dedication, no matter how unnatural and creepy it is.

Unlike Andie, most women saw how Duckie has matured. He is finally able to let Andie go. They sympathized with him and loved him for his heroic act. Andie doesn't see those qualities in the same light.

But I'm still a teenage girl. To me, Andie's choice is completely justified. Compared to Duckie, Blane seems the more mature throughout. Blane is most likely not deliberately failing his classes or obsessing over her in a disturbingly prepubescent way. While Blane is a douche-slash-wimp, he genuinely cares for Andie. And Andie is completely infatuated with him. The heart wants what it wants. And let's face it: On a superficial level, McCarthy was a more handsome young man than Cryer was. McCarthy was certainly the dashing knight in a shining armor in every sense.

And for the short time I have been alive, I have only learned one important lesson about love the hard way: A person isn't the perfect match for you unless he/she loves you. (Everything else, I learned from the movies.)

Despite how accurate Pretty in Pink is, the film itself is still pretty mediocre. Those eighties John Hughes teen movies aren't clicking with me. The film is rather tedious. Ringwald is rather unlikable and difficult to connect with. I want to shoot Duckie in the face the entire time for being stalkerish and annoying. But hey, McCarthy is really, really dreamy every time he shows up on screen.

The central question remains: Who would you have chosen--Duckie or Blane--and why?

A movie that makes me want to hang out with friends--a rare phenomenon

2009-11-26T19:51:00.000-08:00

St. Elmo's Fire | dir. Joel Schumacher | rel. 1985

Once in a while, I see a movie that is so obviously flawed, yet so completely endearing and lovable. I withdraw from the film's universe with a big, goofy smile on my face.

St. Elmo's Fire is that movie.

In the same breath, I would also like to point out that I never cared for The Breakfast Club, a film released in the same year as St. Elmo's Fire that, like St. Elmo's Fire, also featured prominent members of the "brat pack," a group of up-and-coming actors from the eighties. I wrote a review for The Breakfast Club several month ago, with the hope of re-reviewing it after I re-watch it with my English class. (The Breakfast Club was used as the cinematic companion piece to The Catcher in the Rye.) Well, my English class certainly loved it.

The Breakfast Club and St. Elmo's Fire are very different, despite the fact that they are both prominent "brat pack" movies and share several actors. The former is about high school and the latter is about post-college life. Because of their general classification, they are often compared to each other. The Breakfast Club usually wins the comparison battle.

If you would like to convince me that The Breakfast Club is indeed the greatest high school movie ever made, please feel free. For the time being, I would like to convince you that St. Elmo's Fire is the greatest movie about dumb people ever made.

St. Elmo's Fire is about a group of recent college graduates from Georgetown University. They struggle to come to terms with adult obstacles. Since the writers of this film naturally wondered why these drastically different people would ever be friends, they gave the audience the excuse that the characters really don't remember who met who first and why the hell they are even friends. It is just a fact that we have to accept. Director Joel Schumacher establishes this sense of warmth and trust between the characters that makes their friendships strangely believable.

The seven friends meet at St. Elmo's Bar & Restaurant and discuss their difficult lives. They ponder the meaning of life while they curiously venture into the world that would become their lives.

Alec (Judd Nelson) and Leslie (Ally Sheedy) are the golden couple of the group. Although he is a Democrat, Alec finds a higher-paying job with a Republican senator. Alec hopes that marrying Leslie would finally terminate his unfaithfulness. Leslie doesn't know about Alec's unfaithfulness, but she is still hesitant towards the idea of marriage.

Alec's best friend, Kevin (Andrew McCarthy), is an aspiring journalist without a byline. He's sensitive, yet pessimistic about love. Kevin is secretly in love with Leslie, but holds back his knowledge about Alec's unfaithfulness.

Kevin is roommates with Kirby (Emilio Estevez), who is attending law school. But he's willing to quit law school to become a doctor to impress Dale (Andie MacDowell), an older woman who he has been smitten with since his freshmen year at Georgetown. Kirby forms an almost stalkerish attachment to Dale and surprisingly, Dale doesn't seem to be scared.

Jules (Demi Moore) is the party girl of the group. She has a drug problem and her monthly paychecks aren't enough to fuel her high maintenance lifestyle.

Billy (Rob Lowe) is the frat boy of the group. He has a wife and baby, but he can't keep a job to support them. He plays the saxophone well, but it is a talent he doesn't seriously pursue. He is often irresponsible and unfaithful to his wife.

But Wendy (Mare Winningham), the virgin of the group, has faith in Billy. Wendy comes from a well-to-do family who is eager to see quit her social services job and get married to a good husband. Unfortunately for her family, Wendy has a crush on Billy. In return, Billy has an almost creepy interest in Wendy's virginity.

How do these people know each other? Who cares?

None of these characters are very smart people. But the point is, most young people are not smart. They can cheat on their girlfriends, hoping that marriage would solve all their problems. They can change their political party affiliation to get a higher-paying job. They can fall in love with their best friend's girlfriend. They can be compulsive liars and have drug problems. They can even stalk the woman they claim to love. They can even infatuate over a guy who probably isn't worth it. Or have a weird obsessive interest over their friend's virginity.

What do I know about what people can do and feel?

I do know that St. Elmo's Fire is a wonderfully entertaining movie. It is not a movie that captures realistic situations, but it is a movie that captures realistic emotions. When Kirby finally gets his romantic moment with Dale, I feel for his triumph. Or when Kevin confesses his love to Leslie. Or even in the dramatic scene where Leslie confesses to Alec why she refuses to marry him. I feel for these characters, no matter how inane they are.

I wasn't alive in the eighties, but St. Elmo's Fire epitomized what I knew about the eighties: horrible fashion, obnoxious hair, cheesy music (and what was up with Lowe's dangling earring?). But it was a decade that defined youth as we know it. Although some may credit the fifties for inventing the teenager, MTV, John Hughes, and the brat pack revolutionized what it meant to be a teenager. St. Elmo's Fire explores the aftermath of youth. No one can be angsty forever, yet they just want to hang on.

Rating: 9/10

The truth about an ugly rom-com starring attractive people

2009-11-24T11:37:00.001-08:00

The Ugly Truth | dir. Robert Luketic | rel. 2009

Katherine Heigl and Gerard Butler are two fairly attractive people, but neither of them have enough charisma or charm to keep the formulaic engine of The Ugly Truth spinning.

The main downfall of The Ugly Truth is that it is too blindly ambitious. It desperately wants to be a cleverly risque romantic comedy. The writers (shockingly composed of three women) must have aspired to re-invent the romantic comedy genre, but that is impossible when they stay so much within the confines of the predictable pitfalls of the genre. What makes The Ugly Truth so offensive is not because its often raunchy and distasteful humor, but how much it wants to be something more than a crowd-pleasing romantic comedy--and how it fails so miserably.

The Ugly Truth never goes beyond what its audience would expect, assuming that the average moviegoer has seen a conventional romantic comedy before, yet it teases its audience that it is breaking barriers by cracking some perverted one-liners. I've seen junior high boys make cleverer sex jokes than the ones in this script. A good adult romantic comedy understands the usefulness of subtlety. Unfortunately, The Ugly Truth is far from good.

Heigl stars as Abby Richter, a control freak workaholic and producer of a local Sacramento morning news show. Ratings are down, so the show hires Mike Chadway (Butler), a misogynist creep who hosts a show called "The Ugly Truth," much to Abby's dismay. Mike is a relationship expert who passes sexist comments as relationship advice. But no matter how insanely offensive Mike is, the ratings for Abby's news show are increasing. People like to watch the outrageous unfold.

Although Abby disapproves of Mike's superficial outlook on love (and of course, lust), Abby seeks Mike's help to snag her the perfect man (Eric Winter).

I have to admit that the film does have a clever set-up that could have worked as a decent television satire, but the writers try so hard to be vulgar and outrageous, like Mike's show, that it's difficult to care about the more human side to the characters. It's a classic battle of the sexes scenario, but boy, has Hollywood seen better days.

The film has an annoyingly perky supporting cast that aren't even worth mentioning because of the unfortunate material they have to work with. None of them are very funny, nor does the script allows them to be very funny. The humor the supporting cast is equipped with are so ridiculously stupid that for the writers to expect its audience to laugh is offensive and demeaning.

The "romance" that eventually blooms between Abby and Mike is not only predictable, but it just doesn't work. Abby realizes that Mike is, deep down, a hopeless romantic and a decent man who wants to be a good role model for his teenage nephew. But does that excuse him from being a frustrating jerk and enforcing every over-the-top male stereotype? And Mike realizes that Abby is actually quite endearing and falls in love with her flaws, but unfortunately, that doesn't make Abby more likable to the audience.

There is no question that Heigl aspires to be the next romantic comedy star, but she doesn't have the "it" quality that is so apparent in Meg Ryan, Julia Roberts, and Sandra Bullock. Men might like her because she's easy on the eyes, but she doesn't have the instant approachability that women often seek for in leading ladies. Heigl lacks warmth. And for her, comedy seems to be a relatively unnatural reflex.

Gerard, on the other hand, wants to be in romantic comedies as much as Humphrey Bogart did. But the genre just doesn't fit him. He knows how to let loose, but I don't know if that's enough. And the next time he tries to play an American, he should work on his American accent.

I will admit, I laughed once or twice during The Ugly Truth, but I pitied the film's desire to be so outlandishly different, but so unable to break out of any confine. The only reason that anyone should want to watch such a formulaic movie is because they genuinely want to spend 90 minutes with two likable characters, in hopes that they would fall in love in the end. Abby and Mike do not that fit that bill.

You'll be better off watching The Proposal.

Rating: 3/10

I Want These Things To Happen In My Life

2009-11-15T18:43:00.000-08:00

I want...

my younger self to visit me
(This film is so underrated. And I prefer Bruce Willis in non-action genre roles.)

to see my future
(Jennifer Garner is awesome.)

to become my older self in the present
(Is it just me, or does Tom Hanks look kind of pervy in Big? Or just in the movie poster?)

a long-lost twin
(Because I grew up with Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen in my life.)
(Because Lindsay Lohan successfully tricked me into thinking that her roles were played by actual twins.)

a body-swapping experience
(Probably not with any of my family members, though)

a "what if" scenario played out in my dream so I could see what could have been
(Every time I watch this movie, I end up on the brink of tears. Thanks for the emotional manipulation, Nicolas Cage & Co.)

another "what if" scenario so I can appreciate my own existence
(Because this movie is as welcoming as a warm fire place and hot chocolate.)

...no matter how sentimental the experience might be.

I haven't seen 17 Again yet, but I kind of want to be my younger self in the present too. Maybe the actual viewing of the film would change my mind.

Casablanca improves as time goes by

2009-10-30T23:03:00.000-07:00

Casablanca | dir. Michael Curtiz | rel. 1942

Film class is warming up. I'm still barely learning anything, other than some mildly interesting Hollywood gossip, but the quality of the films we watch have significantly improved.

After completely destroying the thirties for me in a matter of a few short weeks, my class delved into the forties. And boy, were things different. Great films, such as Gaslight and It's a Wonderful Life, entered my existence.

A perfect film, Casablanca, was rediscovered. I finally learned how to appreciate one of the most iconic classics of all-time.

I was thirteen when I first saw Casablanca. I thought it was decent, but I was barely paying attention. I was probably daydreaming throughout the entire film. I probably wouldn't have been able to summarize the plot for you back then if you asked.

There is just something about Casablanca. It just doesn't hit you that the film isn't really filmed in Casablanca. Or that Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman are far from the picture-perfect Hollywood movie couple. Or that the plot itself is somewhat outlandish and coincidental.

Casablanca is like a great Shakespeare play: things don't seem absolutely logical or perfect, but there are just some great moments that cements itself in your mind forever; all those little things create this amazing whole.

Casablanca is a truly timeless film. It's as simple as that.

World War II has been portrayed on film countless times since 1942, the year Casablanca was released. The setting of Casablanca, a place where refugees once passed by in hopes of obtaining visas to travel to America, is exotic, intriguing, mysterious, and foreign.

An audience also loves a sentimental, tragic hero. Always have, always will. We all have this instinct to side with the underdog, especially when the underdog is a glorious cinematic character. Bogart's Rick Blaine fits the description perfectly.

Add a beautiful woman, a long-lost Parisian romance, a bar full of intrigue, several sentimentalists, some great, boozy jazz music--and you have a complete marvel of a film.

If you think Casablanca is a cinematic atrocity and feel no reason to reconsider, I have nothing to say to you. If you don't remember Casablanca being a great film, I urge you to reconsider. If you have never seen Casablanca, I urge you to see it now.

Out of Bedford Falls, into modern day cynicism

2009-10-24T12:20:00.001-07:00

I was eleven years old when I saw my first black and white film in its entirety. The film was It's a Wonderful Life. I was able to catch the annual NBC broadcast that year and I was fully blown away by Frank Capra's sentimental ode to the precious gift called life.

Even then, I somewhat related to James Stewart's underdog hero, George Bailey. I wanted to get the hell out of the suburbs--which may or may not be worse than the film's little piece of Americana, Bedford Falls--and seek greater things. Like most pre-teen girls, I wanted to be famous, important--anything but an ordinary person. At the same time, I couldn't shake off the connection I had for the suburbs. It was my home, a place that I was familiar with.

It's a Wonderful Life became a holiday "home" for me. Every time I watched it, I felt like I was revisiting a lovely old friend. Watching it in the middle of October was no different.

After enduring the ridiculous crappiness of Sergeant York and Boys Town in my BS high school film class, It's a Wonderful Life felt like a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. I don't care if I wasn't going to learn anything new, I was just grateful that I was going to watch a movie that I knew I was going to enjoy.

Being the cynic I am, I realize that it was completely ridiculous that Bedford Falls would be so different without George. I don't think that if George never married the sweetly radiant Mary (Donna Reed), she would become an old maid and librarian. I don't think Mrs. Bailey would turn into such a stern-faced lady either just because her darling son George doesn't exist.

But I understand Capra's point that every individual's life has the power to impact the world. It's fueled with the kind of optimism that modern audience, like myself, have to struggle to accept.

Then rolled in the happy ending: George's friends helps him raise the $8000 the villainous Mr. Potter (Lionel Barrymore) stole; the Building and Loans can continue its hopeful existence. A bell rings and our favorite second-class angel, Clarence gets his wings. Merry Christmas to all.

It was my fifth viewing. I didn't think I was going to once again shed some tears.

I wonder if this kind of heartstrings-pulling, tearjerking optimism can ever work in a modern film. I'm not even sure if it quite works with a modern audience. My classmate told me he thought the ending of It's a Wonderful Life is silly and emotionally manipulative.

Critics and audiences complain that "happy endings" in modern films are cliched, sentimental, and trite. Modern romantic comedies with happy endings are often considered dumb and uncharming (and the truth is, many are). Serious filmmakers tend to avoid making those kind of films. Steven Spielberg attempted to revive the spirit of classic romantic comedies and underdog stories with The Terminal several years back. I think I was the only person who enjoyed it.

Is this generation so pessimistic to the point that we can rarely appreciate a winning hero and a losing villain? So how long will it be until amgiuous, unsatisfying endings become a tired fad in so-called "quality" films?

I understand that relentless originality is in demand. The era for Capra-esque films are long gone. But there are some people who still want to see a great film about the victorious underdogs or a couple who ends up together in the end of the film. I want to see another Forrest Gump (I know some people feel otherwise) or another When Harry Met Sally. I'm not asking for more silly, ditzy feel-good flicks, but I'm asking for the kind with a genuine heart at its core.

Happy endings don't have to be crap, if that makes any sense...

Why do I suddenly find Humphrey Bogart attractive?

2009-10-22T21:31:00.000-07:00

Greatest movie poster ever. Just sayin'.

Film class blues

2009-10-11T10:32:00.000-07:00

I haven't blogged here in quite a while. Maybe it's because I'm busy. Or maybe it's because I just haven't felt like blogging in a very long time. But I feel like venting a little, so bear with me here.

I just wanted everyone to know that the class entitled "Film of the 20th Century" at my school is useless. I would know this because it's part of my daily academic schedule. It is the most mind-numbing, ridiculous class I've ever taken.

We sit there and watch movies, but we never really discuss anything. We have tests about the actors in the movies and the scandals the actors were involved in. Of course, classic Hollywood scandals are fun to hear about, but they're not really beneficial in appreciating the art of film.

There is sort of this ongoing "joke" in that class, though. Well, I guess I'm the only person who finds it remotely hilarious.

Instead of watching actual Charlie Chaplin and James Dean movies, we watch movies based on their life. Although I'm not complaining--watching Robert Downey Jr. and James Franco play Chaplin and Dean, respectively wasn't too horrible; at least I wasn't watching Jennifer Love Hewitt play Audrey Hepburn--I think it would make more sense if we actually watched some Chaplin and Dean movies.

All we've done is watched this Chaplin short film and five minutes of East of Eden. Come on...

It's not really the "20th century," by the way. It's more like, "the 20th century starting from the 1930s." We've watched sentimental pieces of mush, such as Boys Town and Goodbye, Mr. Chips. We've watched the mildly amusing and funny My Man Godfrey. We watched a mediocre gangster flick, The Public Enemy. And we watched the fairly epic (for its time), King Kong.

Now we're in the 1940s, and we're in the middle of a fairly boring film called Sergeant York. At the end of this film, I'm supposed to think Gary Cooper is awesome, but I think High Noon would've been a better example of Cooper's acting abilities.

So how is everyone doing?

Bring film criticism back to the nerds, yeah!

2009-08-20T11:24:00.000-07:00

I tend to be slow when it comes to news of great personal importance. If it doesn't air on CNN or show up on the Twitter pages I follow, I have no idea that it happened.

When I read this, I wanted to make a post about this, even if blogs all over the web have already had their say. Being a lifelong fan of At the Movies since the Ebert & Roeper days (and then watching pioneers, Siskel and Ebert battle it out on the web archives), this piece of news interested me greatly.

I made my monthly Internet trip to Stop Ben Lyons! yesterday and nearly died of extreme happiness. Disgraced film critic, Ben Lyons was recently fired from At the Movies, along with his co-host, Ben Mankiewicz.

Lyons is the son of film critic, Jeffrey Lyons. Before his stint on At the Movies, Lyons made frequent guest appearances on his father's film criticism show, Reel Talk, which was canceled earlier this year. Obvious nepotism aside, he eventually became the supposed "movie expert" of E! Entertainment and wrote a column for E! Online called "The Lyons Den." In recent years, he is infamously known as the joke who referred to I Am Legend "the greatest movie ever made."

Last year, ABC hired Lyons and Mankiewicz in hopes of taking the TV icon of film criticism, At the Movies in a new direction, or most importantly, to attract younger viewers. Mankiewicz, grandson of screenwriter Herman Mankiewicz (Citizen Kane) and grandnephew of director Joseph L. Mankiewicz (Cleopatra, All About Eve), was previously known from his introductions of classic films and cartoon shorts on Turner Classic Movies and as co-host the talk radio show, The Young Turks.

Ratings for At the Movies dropped by 23% during the 2008-2009 season. Many placed the blame on the new set (instead of the traditional balcony, they had a very un-cinematic high-def TV screen), the lousy music, and the critics' round-up (which I admittedly liked, and was disappointed to see it fizzle out), but mostly, the show's two critics had to carry most of the malicious burden--especially Lyons. Sites and articles criticizing Lyons populated the Internet, such as Stop Ben Lyons!, Criticwatch's Ben Lyons Quote of the Week, and Roger [Ebert's] Little Rule Book.

On August 5th, it was announced that ABC made the wise decision (that they didn't make last year) to replace Lyons and Mankiewicz with A.O. Scott of The New York Times and Michael Phillips of the Chicago Tribune, both of whom filled in, rather fantastically, as Richard Roeper's co-host during Ebert's absence from the show.

Who said free speech is dead? I'm sure the constant attacks had something to do with the inevitable axing of Lyons.

I'm not someone who likes to see people fail. I was actually hoping that Lyons would become a better film critic as time passed, but it never happened. He constantly had that ridiculous smirk on his face and felt a neccessity to praise the most obscure actors in a movie. It seemed like he never recovered from his controversial decision to place the Twilight trailer on his "3 To See" list earlier in the season. I initially thought it would be fun to watch Lyons week after week making strangely idiotic comments, but I could only suffer so much.

The things that Lyons have been criticized for are things that I might be guilty of doing at one point or another, so I do feel an iota of empathy for him. But then again, I don't get paid for making a fool out of myself on national TV while being considered by some as a legitimate film critic.

The new season is set to air on September 5th. And that is also when I will start watching At the Movies again. Scott and Phillips are both insightful, clever, and witty film critics. These two have the potential to create brilliant banter and I wish them all the best as the new hosts of At the Movies. This partnership has the potential to rival the good ol' days of Gene Siskel and Roger Ebert. Just maybe...

Low Presidential Approval Ratings on Film

2009-08-15T23:13:00.000-07:00

W. | dir. Oliver Stone | rel. 2008 | 4/5
Nixon | dir. Oliver Stone | rel. 1995 | 5/5

I've always found tragic figures to be the most fascinating people of all. Winners have always bore me and always will. It's probably because I'm cynical product of an adolescence shadowed by unjust wars and a corrupt government where "winners" and "heroes" seem more relevant in fairy tales, not in Washington D.C.

Failures, at one point or another, wanted to be great, even heroic; they have been easily captivated by the heroic storybook image of the knight in the shining armor or the prince charming on his glorious white horse. Those images are often sold--a product, shamelessly marketed--that represents an almost unreachable dream that America has once promised. But these tragedies are truly provoked enormous ambitions, which usually provokes the final downfall.

Throughout the years, my disappointments and failures have easily eclipsed what many would consider moderate achievements. In a world of flaws, we have been taught that it is okay to be worth less than we really are; being the loser once in a while is only human. Failure builds characters; losers are the more complex characters in literature, anyway.

In director Oliver Stone's presidential biopics, W. and Nixon, Stone delves into the lives of two disgraced American presidents who couldn't be any more different from each other. Richard Nixon would have hated George W. Bush; Bush completely epitomized the silver spoon mentality that Nixon detested.

Being someone who lived through the fear, insecurity, and economic uncertainty of the Bush presidency, I was able to understand W. more than I did Nixon. Although Stone could have given the Bush presidency a more proper biopic treatment, W. is a fair attempt at portraying an unpopular president. It's a breezy, entertaining, and sympathetic look at a clueless, ex-frat bro POTUS, who really belonged on a living room couch, sipping beer and watching ESPN, not in the White House. Stone emphasized Bush's desire to impress his father as a motivation for his political ambitions, despite Bush's disinterest in the career, which does make Bush a more sympathetic, even tragic, figure in the film's context.

But no matter how great a performance Josh Brolin gives as a sympathetic Bush (the voice, the mannerisms--all spot-on), this does not excuse what Americans had to go through in the eight years of the Bush presidency. Unlike so many, I've never been under the impression that Bush was "stupid" or "clueless" about what was happening to his country. Yes, Bush may have been slightly manipulated by those around him--this film hints that Bush was just another pawn in VP Dick Cheney's (Richard Dreyfuss, delivering a terrific impersonatnion) empirical ambitions--but that never stopped him from doing what was beneficial to him and those who were close to him. Bush is not a brilliant politician by any means, but he barely blinked as his country crumbled.

On the surface, especially in interviews, Bush has given me an impression of a potentially fun uncle, a family man, a guy who enjoys a cold beer, football, and backyard barbeques. Brolin's performance and Stone's script almost embraces that idea; too often, we're convinced that Bush is just a regular Joe, not one of the worst presidents Americans have ever elected into office (and even that is questionable). But these are precisely the reasons that make Bush a fascinating subject for a biopic--he seems too much like the good guy to ever be the bad guy. Maybe he genuinely thought God wanted him to be president--who knows? I can't fall for every single bit of sympathy Stone wants his audience to feel, but I can understand where everything is coming from.

It's too early in the post-Bush Administration phase to fully care for W., but this film has the potential to have more worth over time. We'll just have to wait and see.

Since Stone's Nixon was released more than twenty years after disgraced president Richard Nixon resigned, the film was able to allow more time for history to reflect itself than W. allowed (W. was released when Bush was still in office). While watching Nixon, I was reminded what Roger Ebert wrote in his Frost/Nixon review: "Nixon was thought to have been destroyed by Watergate and interred by the Frost interviews. But wouldn't you trade him in a second for Bush?" My sentiments, exactly.

It seems like Nixon will never be forgiven for Watergate. At the time, he was the only president who has ever been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Presidents before him have performed even more outrageous tactics, but they had more charm, charisma, and magnetism than Nixon ever possessed. Anthony Hopkins' portrayal of Nixon insists that the president was a decent man who was hated by his people. And once again, Stone plays the sympathy card.

I was born long after Nixon's presidency ended. This lessens my ability to have strong opinions on Nixon. I don't really know anything about Nixon, other than what I've learned from history class and what I've seen in short news footage. There are people who think Nixon did an excellent job with foreign policy (with help from Henry Kissinger, here played magnificently by Paul Sorvino) and there are people who could never forgive him for the cover-ups that led to the inevitable Watergate scandal.

But since I did not live through Nixon's presidency, I was allowed to view Nixon the way Stone wants his audience to see his subject: I saw Nixon as a tragic Shakespearean figure that nearly equals the sympathy I had for the fictional Michael Corleone. He only wanted his family to be proud of him and his wife (Joan Allen) to support him. It made me wonder: Would a viewer who has never lived through the Bush presidency feel the same way about W. and Bush himself?

I tend to have the same sympathies for fallen greatness as Stone does for Bush and Nixon. I feel a great amount of compassion for those who have been disgraced by the public and have been labeled legitimate failures by the media. It is with this attitude that I find Bush, Nixon, Pierce, and other presidential failures far more intriguing than Kennedy, Washington, Clinton or Jefferson ever will be--maybe with the exception of Lincoln because that's a "winner" with multitudes of complexities and contradictions.

Second chances aren't easily attained. Most publicly humiliated failures evaporate forever. What also evaporates is their shot at greatness. Instead, things unfold differently. Tragedies often happen to people who have the potential to be great.

W. is a flawed film. It has choppy editing. It falls into the annoyingly shaky camera pitfall. The film feels a little incomplete at times, like it's missing several scenes. Sometimes the film wants to be a satire, sometimes it want to be a serious biopic. There are moments where I feel like I was watching a SNL skit with a higher budget. But I enjoyed the film immensely; I was finally watching a film that highlighted a period of history that I lived through.

In comparison, Nixon is the far more ambitious film and the better-made film, by miles. Stone returns to black-and-white flashbacks technique that he used in the Oswald flashbacks in JFK. Hopkins doesn't look like the Nixon I remember from the photographs, but he brings a certain warmth to the man, which many seem to find inaccurate to the former president's character--I found it all too appropriate. If I had to sit through a three-hour film about any character, I have to feel a connection to the character. So if that means Hopkins had to soften Nixon a bit, I'm all for it. Hopkins' delivery of Nixon's farewell speech may be the most touching moment I've ever seen in any film and I do not think if that moment would be as effective if Hopkins portrayed Nixon as a calculating, heartless crook throughout.

Because Stone and I seem to be kindred spirits on the subject of tragic public figures, I gladly applaud the director's ambitious visions to capture what may have occurred behind closed doors and to find the missing pieces of the puzzles to these somewhat misunderstood men.

Headline News

2009-08-14T00:12:00.000-07:00

It's past midnight and I can't sleep. So, random question: What is your favorite political film(s) and why?

This would make a splendid blog-a-thon. Considering how amazing this idea is, I wouldn't be surprised if someone has already given it a whirl.

I ponder this question because I just recently watched Oliver Stone's latest biopic, W. and since I'm a casual Stone fan, I liked it quite a lot. I was expecting an over-the-top SNL-esque dramedy, but I was surprised by its serious yet sympathetic approach to a disgraced president.

I'm watching Stone's Nixon this weekend. I still don't think Anthony Hopkins looks anything like Richard Nixon, but seeing how everyone loves the performance and considering how it's Anthony Hopkins and all, my expectations are still fairly high.

Expect reviews for W. and/or Nixon. Possibly. Or I might be too busy mourning summer's inevitable end.

Divorces happen, get over it

2009-08-08T22:11:00.000-07:00

Fireproof | dir. Alex Kentrick | rel. 2008 | 2.5/5

I try not to reveal details about my more personal life on this blog, but since the film that I'm about to discuss does touch upon a certain detail about my faith, the subject seems appropriate.

I'm a self-described on-again, off-again Christian. For the past few years, I've been a little more like Gandhi when it comes to Christianity; Gandhi once said, "I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ."

I've been going back to church in the past few months in hopes of well, improving my life one way or another, and honestly, I've never felt so isolated, lonely, and frustrated in my entire life. The people there are certainly nice, but they all go to the same schools, have the same interests, and I can't seem to connect to them on a more friendly, personal level. I don't know if it's because I'm such a hard shell to crack or I just hate hiking, camping, and attending dinner parties with people I don't feel completely comfortable with.

I think what I'm trying to say is that I've associated with Christians for my entire life. The ones who aren't crazy are generally nice people who just want everyone to be friends and love each other. The ones that are crazy think Bush is a great president just because Bush claims that he loves God. My own mom is a devoted, socially conservative Christian and I love her, despite our differences.

But ultra-conservative Christians can't seem to keep up with the modern world. Things change, and sometimes I wish The Bible is as open to interpretation as the United States Constitution. Many Christians don't think so, although what they believe is what they believe. They have the right to exercise their freedoms and no one has to force them to change their minds.

Although we can all appeal to them and beg them to reconsider--and we'll have to do that again and again. They're a tough crowd...

I'm not trying to tackle any of the star controversial issue (gay marriage, abortion) but something much simpler: divorce. Yes, divorce. I don't understand why divorce is so wrong in the grand scheme of things. There is actually a small snippet in the Book of Matthews that discusses how horrible divorce is and I simply don't understand. My parents were divorced when I was very young and I've always thought it was rather fitting. I guess it would've been nice if I were raised in a nice, happy family, but shit happens--not just in my life, but in stormy marriages that were just not meant to last.

This brings me to the church-funded movie, Fireproof, a piece of Christian propaganda opposing divorce. It's about a married couple played by Kirk Cameron (yes, the kid from Growing Pains) and Erin Bethea who just fight all the time about the most stupidest of things; the wife complains that the husband's always looking at dirty images on the Internet and saving up for a boat they don't need when they could be using the money for repainting the back door and the husband complains that the wife nags too much about everything.

So it obviously seems that this couple are headed for a divorce. The wife is the PR of a local hospital and she is even being wooed by a nice doctor--so why bother staying in an awful marriage to a constantly pissed off firefighter? But the husband's father comes to the save the day by putting the husband on a "love dare"--a project that will save the marriage. The project puts the husband on a 40-day (lol why couldn't they name Kirk Cameron's character Noah?) journey of tips on how to save the marriage. Tips include not saying negative things, doing nice things, planning a nice dinner, etc. for each of the forty days. After a magical talk with his father, the husband immediately converts to Christianity. It's nice how miracles work.

Having the husband as a dedicated firefighter allows the writers of this film to include some horrible analogies of the responsibilities of a firefighter and the responsibilities of a spouse. And they are all relentlessly cheesy and lame. Halfway through this movie, My Mom The Christian actually turned to me and said, "This movie is a lot like a Hallmark movie," a genre that we've often made fun of since our viewing of Loving Leah.

But what bothers me about my mom and the bulk of Christians (even more than the fact that they think God wanted Bush to be president) is that they think a movie is immediately 200% more awesome if God is somehow positively involved in the plot as the central moral compass. There are some great movies where God plays a positive role, such as The Ten Commandments and The King of Kings, but why must they flock the theaters to witness something as meritless and lame as Fireproof?

I mean, it's not like Fireproof was directed by God, anyway.

Fireproof offers nothing refreshing about "saving" a marriage. It's an amateur, yet admirable, piece of filmmaking. The "admirable" part comes from the fact that it was made with a relatively low budget--but that's about it. The script is a Hallmark rip-off and the acting is stiff and laughable. The comedic moments are well, amusing, to say the least, but there is one scene that I can't get out of my mind...

There is this scene where the husband (I can't even bother to IMDb their names, so I'll just call him Kirk Cameron) is surfing the net and checking out boats (his fave hobby) and this random ad with this girl pops up on screen with the words "Wanna See?" underneath. Since he's a fan of pornography, he has this amazing internal struggle. He walks away from the computer, opens his "love dare" book and it says that he has to resist temptations such as pornography. So Kirk Cameron has no idea what to do.

SO HE PULLS OUT THE POWER PLUGS. HE BRINGS THE ENTIRE COMPUTER SET OUTSIDE. HE PICKS UP HIS BASEBALL BAT (HIS GENERAL WEAPON OF CHOICE) AND STARTS DESTROYING HIS COMPUTER WITH HIS BASEBALL BAT. THE NEIGHBORS WATCH BECUASE HE'S TOTALLY BATSHIT.

As you can probably tell, I LOVE this scene. I couldn't stop laughing. It's probably THE funniest scene I've ever seen. I mean, he could've saved the computers to download Christian rock songs and sermons off the Internet but NO he chose to annihilate his entire computer!!!

Watch the entire moral dilemma unfold here:

I think I actually wrote everything preceding this video just because I wanted to build up to the climatic moment that IS THIS VIDEO. The entire scene is actually more hilarious (with the neighbors watching) but this video really builds up all the intensity that makes the scene awesomely...bad and amazing at the same time. Because it's unlikely I'll find anything funnier than this.

Anyway, I think I kind of love Fireproof the same way I kind of love the "Bet On It" scene in High School Musical 2. Fireproof reminds me of the videos I had to watch in my freshmen year health class. It's an uncomfortable film to sit through, has way too many random montages set to random Christian rock songs, and it doesn't enlighten its audience with anything new. The Kendricks Bros. (who also made two other Christian-centric movies) probably had their heart in the right place, but this film is so cliched-muddled, lame, unintentionally hilarious, and to top it off, a message that is so backwards, that no scene ever feels truly genuine.

Even as the end credits roll, I still believe that well, DIVORCES HAPPEN, GET OVER IT.

But this film is so funny...I just CAN'T GIVE IT A BAD RATING. So I'm just going to do some sort of a weird breakdown:

ENTERTAINMENT VALUE: 9/10
EVERYTHING ELSE: 4/10

Okay, that brings my total down to a 6.5/10...pretty impressive (a 2.5 on the 5 star scale). Anyway, I kind of want to watch this movie for my next hypothetical slumber party. I would love to do a commentary throughout this movie because that's all I did last summer on AIM with my friend with the "Bet On It" Youtube video.

So anyway...why am I so lame again?

Potter Battles Dark Forces and Teenage Hormones

2009-07-15T18:02:00.000-07:00

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince | dir. David Yates | rel. 2009 | 4/5

I wouldn't call myself a die-hard Harry Potter fan. I read the books. I watched the movies. I grew up with Harry Potter, so there's no point avoiding a phenomenon.

J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince has always been my least favorite out of the seven-book series. The novel dragged on with boring details of ridiculous teenage relationship drama, lightly sprinkled with more engaging darker moments. Reading the book was a frustrating experience for me because I kept wanting to know more about Tom Riddle's (who later became the powerful, yet villainous wizard, Voldemort) past and the mysterious Half-Blood Prince, whose old Potions textbook shows his brilliance.

I didn't care for the sudden romance between Harry and his best friend's boring, charmless (and according to the book, she seemed slutty, too) little sister, Ginny, or how the witty, intelligent Hermione was overcome with jealousy over Ron's new girlfriend. I realize that this is all high school a la Hogwarts, but there is nothing I love more than a little bit of drama (proven by my week-long obsession with Gossip Girl). I blame Rowling's inability to make me care about any of the relationships.

But the tender romantic moments translated well on-screen. The director, David Yates, and the screenwriter, Steve Kloves, clearly knows how to make me care about the raging hormones of these teenage characters more than Rowling does. Sometimes less is more.

Let me just say it: The movie is better than the book. I think I just flipped off a bunch of Harry Potter purists by saying that, but this is my opinion and I'm going to stand by it. I realize that this movie can be confusing without reading the book (according to my mom), but it does stand very well on its own. It shaves off the more uninteresting parts of the book and even if it did shave off some integral parts, I don't remember. It surely didn't affect the movie. I haven't read this book in at least three years. Too bad I don't have photographic memory.

The first part of the film can be best described as a charming and funny romantic-comedy, with signs of impending doom. The second part is darker and full of suspense. The change in tone is gradual, and because of what the earlier scenes masterfully hinted, the change is well, inevitable. Dark times have always been a norm in poor (and extremely lucky) Harry Potter's life. Being the chosen one isn't easy sometimes.

Adventures undoubtedly lie ahead for Harry in his sixth year at Hogwarts. Harry (Daniel Radcliffe) wants to know what his nemesis, Draco Malfoy (Tom Felton), is up to. Dumbledore (Michael Gambon) wants Harry to get close to the new Potions professor, Horace Slughorn (Jim Broadbent), who once taught Tom Riddle (Hero Fiennes-Tiffin) and may have slipped some information of dark magic that Tom, now Voldemort, found useful; Dumbledore wants Harry to find out what that piece of information is. Harry also finds a Potions book that makes him seem like the Potions Master he never was, but the book's mysterious origins, being the property of the "Half-Blood Prince," triggers some curiosity.

But Harry still wants to be a regular teenager and hang out with his friends--an internal battle that seems to be continuously fought and continuously lost. No matter how disturbing this may seem to Harry's best friend, Ron (Rupert Grint), Harry is infatuated with Ron's little sister, Ginny (Bonnie Wright), who has suddenly gotten more attractive (in context). Ron is facing his own battles with the flirtacious Lavender Brown (Jessie Cave) but ignorant of Heremione's (Emma Watson) love for him.

Of course, it wouldn't be a Harry Potter movie without the incredible cast of British actors. Over the years, a Harry Potter movie has become a sort of showcase of Britain's finest actors. Broadbent joins the cast as Slughorn, a suck-up to pure brilliance and greatness, but fearful to evil and menace. Broadbent is hilarious, especially in a scene where he holds a small party with his favorite students in his office and questions Hermione about her muggle (mortal) parents' occupation as dentists, but the performance never fails to show the human qualities in Slughorn.

Helena Bonham Carter returns as Bellatrix Lestrange, one of Voldemort's most trusted minions, in a truly terrifying, insane, and devilish performance, with her wild hair and full witch attire. Alan Rickman is again, a scene-stealer, as a the morally ambiguous and fascinating Professor Severus Snape, who seems more like an enemy than a friend at times--or somewhere in-between. Gambon reprises his role as Dumbledore and continues to mentor young Harry, as the boy wizard tries to understand the often dangerous, yet magical world around him.

The young actors are decent in their roles. I've gotten so used to Radcliffe, Watson, and Grint as their characters that there is no use for me to complain. Although Radcliffe can be as bland as a piece of paper as Harry, there are scenes when he brings a genuine sense of warmth and humor to his performance--and I can only wish that happens all the time. As supporting players, Grint delivers dependable comedic relief when he comes under the spell of a love potion and Watson injects her usual girlish charm in her performance. (And I'm still kind of wishin' Harry and Hermione would have ended up together! The chemistry between Radcliffe and Watson is still terrific.) Wright, as the love interest, is wooden, missing the small spark of spunk she seemed to have in the previous installment. There is also Evanna Lynch, who plays a Luna Lovegood so dreamily in-the-clouds that it is impossible to fall in love with the character all over again.

But out of all the younger actors, it is Tom Felton who delivers the most outstanding performance. I've never really gotten the appeal of Malfoy, or Felton's Malfoy, for that matter. Malfoy is simply a pathetic boy who acts tough. But in this film, Felton makes Malfoy more human and vulnerable than ever. Felton's Malfoy wants to show that he has what it takes to impress Voldemort, but he doesn't realize the price he has to pay. At heart, he's innocent, spoiled, and amazingly pathetic--and I don't know whether to laugh or sympathize with the poor kid. As Felton's Malfoy stood there, with a wand in his hand--shaking, crying, threatening--I finally cared about him. In short, Felton manages to bring more complexity and internal conflicts to Malfoy than I could have ever imagined.

Cinematographer Bruno Delbonnel magnificently mixes lush tones to the film--shades of grey, blue, green adds a certain beauty to Rowling's universe. I didn't expect anything less from someone who has also photographed Amelie, one of the most gorgeous-looking films I've ever seen. The special/visual effects are, like many of the predecessors (perhaps with the exception of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix), fantastically breathtaking.

The Half-Blood Prince is an immensely entertaining film. Clocking at about 2hrs and a half, it managed to keep the kids tight in their theater seats and relatively silent. It may not be the best film in the series (that award goes to the action/adventure-high Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire), but it's dark, sinister, funny, tender, heartbreaking, and emotionally compelling. Being second best is not that bad, right?

A Love Letter to a Polarizing Film

2009-06-25T17:46:00.000-07:00

The Godfather: Part III, dir. Francis Ford Coppola, 1990 (4.5/5)

I've always had a soft spot for The Godfather: Part III.

But it's often declared as one of the worst sequels ever. For a film that has cemented its name in the universe of cinematic crap, it was nominated for six Academy Awards back when it was released, including Best Picture. Gene Siskel placed it on his Top Ten of 1990 and Roger Ebert rewarded the film three-and-a-half stars. The general critical response at the time was mostly positive and the film currently holds a 66% "fresh" on Rotten Tomatoes. And it was moderately successful at the box office, grossing around $66 million in the U.S. alone.

Despite the initial warm welcoming, the film has always gotten a cold reception from its audience and it only gets colder as it ages.

Godfather purists--meaning fans of the first two films--have always been the most apparent critics of Part III. I realize that it's not a perfect film--the ending is insanely confusing (even after my three viewings), Sofia Coppola is mostly an incapable actress, the incestuous relationship is ridiculous, the whole son-wanting-to-be-an-opera-singer thing is forced, and the metaphorical dialogue is nearly laughable--but it's an admirable piece of work for a film that was purely intended to get director Francis Ford Coppola out of bankruptcy.

Part III pulls its audience back into the sepia-tinted world of the Corleone family, also known as the violent, inescapable purgatory of Don Michael Corleone's (Al Pacino) life. It's been nearly twenty years since we've seen the Michael in Part II, sitting alone outside his Tahoe home, and contemplating everything he had lost--his brother, his wife, and his dreams of a legitimate family business. Michael became his worst enemy--and still is.

Michael has since transformed himself into a respectable businessman and philanthropist. For the past twenty years, he has been pushing his family business towards legitimacy, fulfilling a promise he made to his ex-wife, Kay (Diane Keaton) before their marriage. Although Michael is an honored man, he's a lonely one too. In old age, he wants the comfort of family, but his opera-singing son, Anthony (Franc D'Ambrosio) wants nothing to do with the family business and Kay has moved on to a more secure, conventional marriage to a judge. All he really has left is his naively vulnerable daughter, Mary (Sofia Coppola), and all the greedy men who wants to make money off his crime empire.

Things shake up when Michael's bastard nephew, Vincent Mancini (Andy Garcia) enters the picture. Vincent is as aggressive, intuitive, and trigger-crazy as his late father, Santino. Vincent is tired of working for the small-time, photogenic, showman gangster, Joey Zasa (Joe Mantegna), and wants to work for Michael. At first, Michael is hesitant, but he's getting old, sick, and sentimental--he gives in to Vincent and his little sister Connie's (Talia Shire) wishes, and generously offers Vincent the chance to be part of the Corleone family, where Vincent's true roots are.

Vincent's not shy to show what he's got: He wants to get rid of Joey Zasa and quickly wins the fragile, romantic heart of his cousin, Mary. Michael realizes that Vincent's violent and romantic escapades are dangerous, but he sees potential in this ambitious punk: Vincent has his father's headstrong, dedicated heart, and his grandfather's calculting negotiation skills of pragmatism and reason. Most of all, Michael sees a man he can trust with the future of the family business.

There is this subplot involving a real estate company that is partially run by the Vatican that the Corleone family is trying to gain control of. There is money to be made and all the other crime families want in. But all that seems to fade to the background. This is a film about a man who wants to redeem himself and hopes to God that it's not too late to be saved.

There is a powerful scene in the film where Michael confesses his sins to a priest. It's beautifully filmed in the garden and it's one of the most poignant scenes I've ever seen--and one of the most memorable scenes Pacino has ever filmed. Michael confesses that he's betrayed his wife, himself, and killed numerous men, including his own brother. He breaks down because he knows that even if God forgives him, he can never forgive himself.

Pacino is the foundation of the Godfather series. I don't think any of the films would ever be as effective if it weren't for him. I've never revered Marlon Brando's legendary performance as Don Vito Corleone. To me, The Godfather has always been about Pacino's Michael and that intense, alluring complexity that is so central to Pacino's performance. There has never been a cinematic villain that I have sympathized with more than Michael Corleone and I don't think there ever will be. Part II shows the rise of a calculating crime boss and Part III shows the heartbreaking downfall of a tainted dreamer; Pacino understands both sides immensely well.

Pacino also has fabulous chemistry with Keaton, who plays the love of Michael's life and the mother of his children, Kay. Kay knows several secrets about Michael's history and acts as the conscience he doesn't necessarily want, but knows he needs. She still cares about him, but after all these years of bullets and broken promises, it's hard for her to not feel some disdain for his mafia lifestyle. Pacino and Keaton's scenes together in Sicily are precious; they both acknowledge a life that they could once attain, but destiny turned out differently. It's subtley romantic, but ultimately heartbreaking. It's also two great actors at their finest.

But bad habits are hard to break: There is an excellent scene where Vincent shaves Michael and Michael tells Vincent to "sell his soul" to the enemy, Don Altobello (Eli Wallach), the Hyman Roth of Part III. The entire scene intercuts with Vincent trying to convince Don Altobello that he's changing sides. It's a scene filmed with some suspenseful creativity and shows with gentle, subtle touches that Michael can still run the business and as long as he's the head of the business, he's going to run it to the best of his abilities.

Part III is shot with glorious mastery by cinematographer Gordon Willis. Everything from the dark walls of the Corleone home to the sun-drenched country of Sicily is illustrated beautifully. The signature score by Nino Rota still soars with atmospheric wonder to this world that we've known so long and continuously return to.

The numerous murders at the end of the film are rather confusing and sometimes even slow, but they are ingeniously intercut with a live Italian opera, starring Michael's son, Anthony.

There seems to be a lot of controversy about Sofia Coppola's performance. The role originally went to Winona Ryder, who had to drop out because she was sick when production began. Ryder, being an established professional actress, would have been an appropriate choice for Mary. But I find it hard to blame Coppola for her lackluster performance because her father made the decision to put her on celluoid.

Coppola, however amateur her performance is, shockingly brings a certain indescribable vulnerability and warmth to her performance. There is a scene near the end of the film where Mary's heart is undeniably in shambles and she just stares on, with all the sadness and tears of a lost schoolgirl. At that point, it's difficult not to feel an iota of sympathy for her.

Consider this my love letter to Part III. The film is a quintessential crime epic and blockbuster of the nineties (along with GoodFellas, which was released in the same year), shot with mastery and skill, and told with heart, compassion, and emotional complexity. It's a rare film in a batch of mindless modern shoot-em-ups. There will never be another film series quite like The Godfather and I might as well cherish its delicately flawed--yet completely heartbreaking--finale.

Abstract Thoughts About The Graduate

2009-06-07T00:07:00.000-07:00

The Graduate, dir. Mike Nicholas, 1967 (4.5/5 stars)

The first time I saw The Graduate, it was on my tiny, long-retired television screen. It was one of the best movies I've ever seen. Perhaps the most entertaining motion picture I've ever witnessed. At thirteen years old, I already related to Benjamin Braddock's sense of disillusionment, confusion, and indecisiveness. I had an impaired sense of judgment, much like Ben. I did not know where to look for the light at the end of the tunnel. I just wanted to sit around all day, contemplating, searching for a definite route in life. I've always been a little ahead of the game, but somehow, it just seems like I've wasted all that time on thinking without any meaningful action.

The Graduate is also one of the most important movies ever made about the exterior glories of youth and the inner time bomb that probes the core of youth. It's simply timeless. But I'm rather bipolar about its wonders. My second viewing somewhat plagues me with the question, "Why is Benjamin Braddock such a creep?" But there's this unexplainable, puppy dog charm to his strange, and sometimes stalkerish antics.

One of the charms of The Graduate is that it uses music to express the characters' senses of confusion and temptation. Mike Nichol's groundbreaking 1967 film not only left a mark in the world of American comedy, but it also used music as a cinematic device to its fullest potential. I don't want to over-exaggerate or anything, but without The Graduate, I doubt we would have those monumental music-within-a-nonmusical-movie moments in later films. Thanks to this film, I was introduced to the music of Simon & Garfunkel. "The Sound of Silence" haunted me, like blind ghosts stuck forever on a clothes hanger. To this day, it still does. And the world of cinema was taught how to properly inject a little bit of pop into their primary medium.

The film's plot spotlights the awkward, nervous, and bored Ben (Dustin Hoffman). Ben recently graduated from college with a bachelor's degree and track star fame attached to his name. He's a golden boy of sorts: everyone wants to what the future has in store of young Ben. But it's the old family friend, Mrs. Robinson (Ann Bancroft) who sees a different kind of potential in Ben. Mrs. Robinson attempts to seduce him and succeeds. The two begin a vacuous affair, built on evening meetings at the local hotel. When Ben's family forces him to take out the Robinsons' college-aged daughter, Elaine (Katharine Ross), Ben seriously falls for her. In result, he must face Mrs. Robinson's raging disapproval.

Most of the time, I cheer for Ben. I want things to turn out well for him. But my conscience tells me he's a real creep. (Roger Ebert also describes Ben as a "creep," perhaps for slightly different reasons.) There is something completely unlikable about Ben. He's a social underdog, for sure, but he's a quietly despicable social underdog. People like him don't get anywhere in life. At the end of the day, guys like Ben may have won the girl, but things will be completely different in another month. The girl would've faced reality by then. Ben is alert when he finds purpose in life, but when he captures the reward, he doesn't know what to do with it. He's one of those guys who knows how to kill a man, but won't know where to dispose the body. That's Ben in a nutshell.

Hoffman is perfectly cast in this role. I want to hate Ben, but I don't. Hoffman plays Ben like a guy who's completely lost at sea and uncomfortable not only with his sexuality, but with the purpose of his mere existence. Hoffman can also deliver some excellent aw-shucks humor and convince that he's serious about his ridiculously awkward antics. The opening scene sums it all up: Hoffman has that amazing blank look on his face: slightly nervous, yet strangely, a bit hopeful. Simon & Garfunkel's "The Sound of Silence" blares in the background.

Benjamin Braddock is one of those characters that has cemented Hoffman as a credible actor after all these years. Here's a breakthrough performance at its ripest. I would say that Hoffman's performance in this film acts as the very foundation to his decades-long, tremendously successful film career.

But Mrs. Robinson is an entirely different story. She's manipulative and conniving, yet sexy and alive. She's this middle-aged woman, confined to the boring limitations of a domestic servant to the California suburbs. If she lived in a more modern day and age, life would have been brighter for her. I deeply resent Mrs. Robinson, although I do sympathize with her unfortunate circumstances. Bancroft plays Mrs. Robinson as an untouched enigma, which makes the character both fascinating and horrific at once. And Bancroft, in her late thirties, still looked like a golden goddess.

I hate Ben and Mrs. Robinson. I love Ben and Mrs. Robinson. It depends on my mood. When I'm cynical and depressed, Ben and Mrs. Robinson are my heroes. When I feel absolutely fine and sedated, Ben and Mrs. Robinson are devilish tools.

But Nichols does consciously showcase the playfully satirical aspects of The Graduate. The film is a surprisingly insightful look at the late-sixties, youth, counterculture, the American suburbs, the American Dream, aging, college, lust, and love. What are they? What are their purposes? What are their functions? Does it all matter?

I've watched The Graduate with my mom and my English class on two separate occasions. Both my mom and my English class seem to think this famous little classic is "weird." Okay, I'm just going on a limb about my entire English class, but my mom actually said it. Apparently it's hard to explain why exactly she feels that way. She just does.

My mom is rather repulsed by Ben's actions. She thinks Ben is one of the most filthy, disgusting cinematic characters she's ever seen on screen. And she's seen quite a few movies, many of which includes gory violence and rape. I certainly don't understand her deep resentment for Ben, but it's there.

My English class is supposed to connect The Graduate to the general idea of existentialism. Does Ben make his own decisions? How does he execute his existential way of thinking? No matter. But did they like the film? My friend said he thought it was "weird" as well.

My English class just finished viewing the film on Friday. From this particular viewing, I conclude that it is one of the most entertaining motion pictures ever made. It's mostly due to that hilariously suspenseful climatic scene, where I observe the clueless hero chase the current girl of his dreams. But that still doesn't stop me from feeling the great urge to punch Ben in the face. Or wonder what the hell he and Elaine are going to go after they take off in that yellow bus. But I do wish everything works out for everyone involved. As much as I feel this heavy disdain for the characters in The Graduate, I want things to work out well for them. Perhaps this way, they'd feel less troubled and I'd like them more, even though I won't see their journey to a brighter path. I mean, at least I want things to be okay for them, you know what I mean?

There's a possibility that I may hate this movie again once I think everything through. But for now, it's as terrific as I want it to be.

This always make me smile like a creepy moron...

2009-05-31T20:53:00.001-07:00

Um. Yep. I think everyone is already aware of this Criterion DVD's existence, but I just want to point it out once again. But that is one cool (albeit minimalistic) cover for one crummy movie...

"It's meeting the man of my dreams and then meeting his beautiful wife"

2009-05-30T19:04:00.000-07:00

Because Delon and the bird had a lot of chemistry...

Starting June 17th (aka the last day of school), expect a steady stream of reviews on this site. I feel guilty for writing up full-blown reviews at the moment since I still have so much school stuff to do. Stuff like, y'know, annihilating CollegeBoard in my mind.

I just finished watching Melville's incredible Le Samourai, starring the deliciously attractive Alain Delon. I'm just dying to review the film, but it's best if I put all my thoughts in order first. Just know that the film is incredible, I love it, and I want to re-watch it right now. Plus, Delon is gorgeous. So is his beautiful then-wife, Nathalie Delon, who is also in the movie (see subject of this post). My dad thinks Delon looks a little like James Dean, but I beg to differ. What do you folks think?

I'm also watching The Graduate in English right now, as a companion piece to Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse-Five and Hemingway's The Old Man and the Sea; they are all part of of our existentialism unit. I've seen that movie and I've always wanted to give it a proper review, mainly because I have so much stuff to say about it. I really can't wait to review that movie, and I say that with all the passion left in my tired little heart. All I can say is: I hate Benjamin Braddock.

Well, wasn't this pointless?

A Pure Woman Faithfully Presented

2009-05-02T14:58:00.000-07:00

I've been having random thoughts about Tess of the D'Urberville, mainly because of Masterpiece Theatre's extraordinarily brilliant, haunting, and beautiful mini series.

I'd also want to share with you a great Youtube video inspired by this series, <3 Coldplay (potential spoilers?):

/plug

Yes, I know, I'm terrible...

2009-04-25T13:22:00.000-07:00

It's been quite lonely around this corner of the whole wide web, hasn't it?

I've been tremendously busy with school. School has, in short, been kicking me hard in the ass that it's not even funny anymore. I've never been a spectacular or productive student, but the work load for junior year has been completely insane that I'll literally explode with happiness come mid-June. I can't even resort an entire weekend for studying since I have to do work on a history project on some--never mind the adjectives--kid's house.

My future is still undecided, but all I know is that I can't wait for the monumental moment in the immediate future called senior year.

Anyway, I'm actually really bored right now, mainly because I'm in a state of morbid procrastination. I have a billion things to do now, but instead of doing those things, I am being forced into stalker-dom due to the "new" Facebook, listening to the glorious Tori Amos, and--gasp--updating my movie blog about things that aren't about movies.

I haven't really voluntarily watched a movie since last month. I watched I Love You, Man in cinemas for my anti-prom (which is, depending on who you are, is either for the cool or the really lame people). I half-wrote a review that I don't know if I'll ever publish, but the movie's worth a look. It's quite funny, Paul Rudd is adorable, and I want Rashida Jones's hair.

I also watched Pay It Forward for the second time at the Movie Night at my youth ministry, and it's the most preachy thing I've ever watched but...KEVIN SPACEY! And lol...Jon Bon Jovi. But yeah, it's preachy and sentimental, but a lot of people seemed to like it. But hey, it is sort of entertaining in its own preachy-sentimental kinda way...right?

We're also watching this amazing Chinese film in English class (a companion piece to Joy Luck Club) called A Great Wall. It's a little-known eighties movie about the collision of a Chinese-American family with a full-blooded (in heart and body) Chinese family. Being a Taiwanese-American, I could relate to some of the things the characters say to each other. It's an honest film, that is tender instead of offensive.

And...I also watched the most epic thing ever during spring break: Masterpiece Theatre's recent mini series, Tess of the D'Urbervilles. Gemma Arterton is absolutely stunning as Tess, the tragic young woman who is troubled by fate, which leads her to an inevitable downfall. That journey to the eventual downfall is characterized by two men: the dangerous Alec D'Urberville (played deliciously and freakishly by Hans Matheson), and the sweet, but cowardly Angel Clare (played by Eddie Redmayne, who seems to be channeling the annoying spirit of Ashley Wilkes). It's the most beautiful thing I've ever witnessed on public television and I whole-heartedly recommend the mini series.

Oh, and I saw Much Ado About Nothing in drama class and it makes me kinda wish that Kenneth Branagh didn't cheat on Emma Thompson with Helena Bonham Carter because Branagh and Thompson are terrific together. And I used to vehemently hate Shakespeare because of the blantantly coincidence-ridden Romeo and Juliet, but I fell in love with Shakespeare after The Merchant of Venice.

I hope everyone is doing well and I will be back...soon. My friends and I are planning to see 17 Again after AP testing, but things are a little uncertain right now, but I certainly hope I get to see it in all its corniness (and Zac Efron's gorgeousness) one way or another.

Une jeune femme à la plage

2009-03-01T16:14:00.000-08:00

Eric Rohmer's drama, Pauline at the Beach, is a lovely coming-of-age story, set in the background of an interesting love triangle among very flawed and misguided, yet sometimes sympathetic, human beings. What began as simply a self-conscious effort that somewhat attempted to define the world of love and relationship blossomed into an engrossing, compelling, and wonderful French film about the nature of love and relationships.

The characters' conversations about love and relationships accentuates the yearning, the disappointments, and the hopefulness that come with the mere notions of romance. Perfected fantasies can be disappointing. People who seemingly embody that sort of fantasy have the abilities to be even more disappointing.

I was genuinely surprised by this engaging character-driven piece, I must say. Rohmer definitely made one helluva impression on me. I can't honestly say that French cinema has ever greatly appealed to me, perhaps with the exception of The 400 Blows, Antoine et Colette (short film), Les Choristes, and probably several more that I can't think of right now. Perhaps it's because I haven't seen enough--that's always the best answer for young cinephiles, I guess.

They Make Movies: The 2009 Academy Awards

2009-02-22T21:32:00.000-08:00

I'm writing this now because I know I won't be able to write anything that requires a serious amount of time during the week. I still have a billion things in the inner portals of my mind that I can't remember as of now, but I will proceed with my mini review of the Oscar ceremony anyway.

I've always adored the glitz and glamour of the annual Oscar ceremony. The fashion, the awards, the sheer exhilaration of it all, the celebration of a rewarding artistic medium, the performances--it's just a wondrous sight to behold. And I still have to see some of those movies. Now I absolutely have to see Slumdog Millionaire, despite how corny and schmaltzy the premise sounds.

For me, this year's fashion standouts were Amy Adams in her gorgeous red dress and Taraji P. Henson in her lovely white dress. Both Adams and Henson had delightfully fancy jewelry to accompany their remarkable dresses. (I might showcase my favorite dresses from the ceremony later in the week when I find better quality pictures.)

I loved both musical numbers. Hugh Jackman was a rather fun host. Loved seeing Anne Hathaway (whoa, that voice!) and Beyonce rocking that stage. (But Zanessa? Meh.) Queen Latifah was wonderful, but the "In Memoriam" tribute was kind of awful, with the camera just going all over the place in the most annoying manner possible.

But really, I got a little sick of medleys in the "I don't want to hear another one for a very long time" kind of way.

I didn't care for the five past winners from the acting categories reading cue cards--I mean, praising the nominees before handing out the actual award. During that time, I just kept thinking to myself, "Why can't they just hand out the damn award now?" It doesn't help that the actors didn't seem very enthusiastic about showering those praises. It kind of made me wonder whether or not the actors actually saw the performances they were praising on stage since all of those speeches felt forced. I understand that it's nice for the nominees to get specially recognized for their work and have the spotlight on them for a while, but it resulted in this never-ending drag that made all that jazz slightly less entertaining.

But Kate Winslet won! Finally... Despite the negative criticism about her performance being the least-deserved out of all her past Oscar nominations, I still feel that Winslet's portrayal of Hanna in The Reader is a grand work of excellence. I definitely believe that Winslet's performance in The Reader is superior than her previously nominated performances in Sense and Sensibility and Titanic.

Then Robert De Niro appeared! I was too excited about the fact that he's on my TV screen and barely heard what he said about Sean Penn. I'm a terrible person, I know. But I hadn't seen a De Niro film in ages so I admit, I kind of missed him.

The icing on the cake was when Steven Spielberg presented the Best Picture award. My Spielberg fangirliness kind of came out that moment in a really weird, absurd way. I was saying things like, "Spielberg should win Best Director like, every single year." Well, probably except this year, but that's not my point.

The ceremony didn't really have any surprises so it really did get kind of boring as the evening dragged on. Everyone who I expected to win, won, maybe except for Sean Penn. I guess like everyone else, I expected Mickey Rourke to take the Best Actor award, but Penn was definitely number two on the list. I don't really know what to say since I haven't seen either performances, but it's all about the statistics when it comes to guessing the winner, right?

Despite how pretty the set looked, the entire ceremony felt a little sloppy, though. Lots of obvious cue card readings. Lots of sloppy montages. Lots of in-your-face loud background music. It did feel a little bit like a party, just not a very elegant, well-planned one. But there were fun moments, especially the song-and-dance moments that I somewhat enjoyed and Jack Black's little joke about betting on Pixar. Then again, it still didn't beat the 2007 Oscar ceremony (hosted by Ellen DeGeneres), which was probably the most glamorous and elegant Oscar ceremony I had seen so far in my lifetime.

The 2009 Oscars was just disappointing and unimpressive, although there were some sparks of potential around the edges.

There's always next year...and the year after that...

Head over to IMDb to view a full list of winners from tonight's ceremony. Feel free to discuss the Oscars. I would love to hear what you all thought about the ceremony!

By the way, I really want to see Departures (Best Foreign Film winner). Has anyone seen it? Is it any good?

Rating of Ceremony: **1/2 (out of four)

A Gallery of My Favorite Cinematic Couples

2009-02-14T18:47:00.000-08:00

I'm glad to announce that I'm still well and alive. And I do remember that I own a film blog.

To celebrate this wonderful holiday of love and expensive chocolates on my blog, I decided to make a little gallery of my favorite cinematic couples (in no particular order). So here I go...

Perhaps one of the most romantic moments in film...ever. Short, sweet, and amazingly memorable.

I don't care what happened in the books. I'm delusional: Harry and Hermione forever. And it helps that Daniel Radcliffe and Emma Watson have incredible chemistry.

The best romantic comedy ever made. Gregory Peck (sigh) and Audrey Hepburn shines brighter than ever in that gorgeous Roman backdrop.

Jo and Laurie are my favorite literary couple and I am convinced my life would have been much better if Jo just accepted Laurie's marriage proposal! That said, Winona Ryder and Christian Bale's performances and chemistry makes me even more frustrated and annoyed that Jo and Laurie don't end up together.

How can any list of this sort be complete without the immortal Scarlett O'Hara and Rhett Butler?

This is a very unconventional choice, but I've always found the relationship between Michael Corleone and Kay Adams quite fascinating. The farther Michael moves away from Kay, emotionally and physically, the farther away he is from his American Dream. Al Pacino and Diane Keaton (in one of the most underrated performances ever) portray the dynamics between the two wonderfully.

Unrequited love...sigh.

One of the sweetest couples ever. One boy, one special boy...sigh. Bobby Rydell and Ann-Margret are adorably irresistible.

Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan proves the power of predictably cutsey, cheesy charm.

"You hear what I said, Miss Kubelik? I absolutely adore you!" Then comes the famous line...

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I hope you enjoyed this gallery. Feel free to discuss and bring up your own personal favorites. Next time, I'll aim for something a little more substantial.

81st Annual Academy Awards Nominations

2009-01-22T18:04:00.000-08:00

Today was a fairly positive day. I mean, how can anything go wrong on Oscar nomination day? Well, things can go wrong, but the anticipation is always pretty exhilarating.

I haven't seen many of the nominated films, but that won't stop me from sharing my two cents.

Like most people, The Dark Knight snub came as a surprise to me. And of course, all that love for The Reader was also quite unexpected. I've seen both and liked both, but honestly, The Dark Knight deserved the Best Picture and Best Director nominations a little more in comparison. The Reader may be a haunting piece of dramatic cinema, but The Dark Knight possesses a grand, epic vision that is usually void from the stereotypically vacuous superhero genre.

But I'm sure several people are glad to see The Dark Knight snub. The Reader is a pleasing enough alternative, I suppose.

And why does Kate Winslet have to be nominated for Best Leading Actress for The Reader? I guess she is technically the leading actress in the film but I'd rather see her with two nominations--one for Best Supporting Actress for The Reader (in which she would've gone head-to-head with Penelope Cruz, who is currently a bit of a lock as for her performance in Vicky Cristina Barcelona) and another for Best Leading Actress nomination for Revolutionary Road (I kinda-sorta want to see this). I mean, wouldn't that have been amazing? Now Winslet also has less of a chance to win in the Best Leading Actress category, especially with Meryl Streep in the running. And Anne Hathaway, with all that buzz for Rachel Getting Married, is tough competition too.

I'm torn by Amy Adams's Best Supporting Actress nomination for Doubt. She is undoubtedly (ha ha get it? okay, never mind) one of the greatest young talents working in film right now but her performance in Doubt isn't quite Oscar-worthy--in this year, or any year. And this is coming from someone who adores her sweet, charming, and all-around contagious naivete glee in Enchanted and Junebug. Adams does indeed deliver a strong performance in Doubt, but when compared to the likes of Streep, Philip Seymour Hoffman, and Viola Davis, she is overshadowed and left clinging to the last resort of fourth place. I guess I'll just consider this as the Academy's apology to Adams for not nominating her for Enchanted.

In a perfect world, David Kross (The Reader) and Gary Oldman (The Dark Knight) would both be nominated for Best Supporting Actor. (I know the Heath Ledger win is nearly inevitable--and will be completely, totally deserved--but these two supporting actors provided the beating heart to their films.) Yeah, I know I haven't seen enough movies to judge, but I'm just throwing it out there in case someone more knowledgeable and wiser actually agrees with me.

And as if the world doesn't know, Brangelina (both parts) are nominated for their work in film, not for the number of times their faces has appeared on a tabloid.

For the complete list of Oscar nominees, please head on over to IMDb's Oscar nominations page.

Obligatory Golden Globes Post

2009-01-12T21:21:00.000-08:00

The annual Golden Globes is one of the few prestigious (I use that word loosely) film award ceremonies that conveniently air on network television, along with the Academy Awards. It's always an entertaining event to watch, although I never really catch up with the films until an entire year after the award ceremonies are over. Fortunately, this might change once I get a job and my driver's license.

The Hollywood Foreign Press (the folks behind the Golden Globes) has a reputation for nominating celebrities for the sake of nominating celebrities. That doesn't stop any of the fun that steams from the three-hour telecast (including commercials).

This year's triumphant victor is Kate Winslet, who won both Best Supporting Actress (for The Reader) and Best Leading Actress (for Revolutionary Road). Being an admirer of Ms. Winslet and having seen her act with electrifying passion in The Reader, I couldn't be more proud of her achievements. Here's hoping she finally gets a well-deserved Oscar.

Last night's Golden Globes also awarded the prolonged Cecil B. DeMille Lifetime Achievement Award to director Steven Spielberg. Spielberg was introduced by friend and fellow director, Martin Scorsese, along with a number of clips from the movies Spielberg has produced and/or directed over the years. It is no secret that I am a relatively huge fan of Spielberg (I have seen all but three of his directed films), and I am thrilled that he was honored for his work in cinema.

Finally, I would like to apologize for ever dissing Slumdog Millionaire's Oscar chances. For the past several months, the film has proved itself to be more of a potential Oscar winner for Best Picture than any other film in contention. This also reminds me that I should see it (post-finals, of course).

Since this must be the tenth (or tenth billion) post about the Golden Globes, I'll just cut the rant short. If you're curious, a complete list of the Golden Globe nominees and winners can be found here.

"I have doubts. I have such doubts."

2009-01-03T18:23:00.000-08:00

Playwright John Patrick Shanley adapted and directed his own Pulitzer Prize-winning play, Doubt for the screen, but the film is trapped in the confines of a stagey setup. Doubt is certainly a delicious showcase of very strong actors delivering riveting performances due to the tension-driven dialogue of Shanley's script, but the film is not quite a full-blown cinematic experience, although the story itself is often dramatic and engrossing. The film plays like a ardent debate between two fierce, persuasive characters. The concluding note is a mist of profound ambiguity that questions the audience on whom they believe based on the evidence provided. But doubt will prevail.

Doubt takes place a year after President John F. Kennedy's assassination. America's spirit has been torn by the fears of uncertainty and a culture captivated by modern ideas of change. St. Nicholas Chuch School is no longer immune to the changes of the outside world and the new priest, Father Flynn (Philip Seymour Hoffman) wants to see the changes come full circle within the heavily traditional climate of St. Nicholas. Father Flynn is friendly with the students, uses a ballpoint pen, and suggests a secular song for the school's annual Christmas pageant. St. Nicholas is finally changing with the times, thanks to a charismatic reformer at the its core.

While Father Flynn develops a fabulous relationship with all the students, Sister Aloysius (Meryl Streep), the universally feared principal of St. Nicholas School, sees Father Flynn as a nemesis and a threat to the very walls of the Catholic church. When the compassionately naive and easily conflicted Sister James (Amy Adams) confides in Sister Aloysius that Father Flynn may have acted inappropriately with the school's first black student, Donald Miller (Joseph Foster), Sister Aloysius takes full advantage of this opportunity to take Father Flynn down--with great certainty in tact.

The performances are uniformly excellent. After four decades, Streep shows that she is still the reigning queen of the film industry, with her complex performance as Sister Aloysius. Sister Aloysius is undeniably cold and stern, but she is a powerful force of nature, accompanied by dry wit, assured judgments, and unyielding confidence. Although he differs in personality, Hoffman's Father Flynn possesses the same inner qualities as Sister Aloysius, which makes their heated conversations a wonder to behold, especially in the head-to-head verbal battles leading up to the finale. Hoffman's Father Flynn holds on to Streep's Sister Aloysius's every word like a calm, biting breeze.

But the true surprise in the cast is Viola Davis, who plays the boy's struggling mother. In a single scene, Davis lets the audience into her hardships at home and her hopes for her son. Nothing can stand in her son's way of future success if she can help it.

Doubt benefits from the finely-tuned performances from its masterful ensemble cast and Shanley's dialogue, but the film is sometimes dull and restrained. After watching Doubt, I wondered if I would admire the cinematic treatment as much if I had already experienced the play on stage. The film has all the bareness of basic theater and doesn't bother to take any risks that go beyond the Dutch angle. But there is an elegance about Doubt, mainly attributed to Roger Deakins' cinematography that paints a blooming yet restricted portrait of a sixties-era Catholic church.

Like another film released in 2008, The Reader, Doubt also dares to ask tough, intense questions attached with its characters' final decisions and the emotional consequences that follow. Doubt tells us that beliefs are rarely not without uncertainty. Despite the film's dismissible theatricality, Shanley directs his story well.

Rating: *** (out of four)

"Do you love me?"

2008-12-30T20:52:00.000-08:00

The Reader is a very well-made film with excellent performances by its extraordinarily talented cast. Stephen Daldry once again proves that he's well on his way to becoming one of the finest directors of his generation. The film is also eager--a little too eager, I might add--to ask hard-hitting moral questions to a point that it feels like it's spoon feeding the audience with its questions instead of telling an emotionally satisfying story.

Unlike more impressive films that questions and tests its characters and audiences' morals, such as Letters From Iwo Jima and Schindler's List, The Reader lacks a warm, approachable core. Daldry, who is capable of directing intense, brutally honest scenes that showcase a wide range of character development, constantly keeps his audience at a cold, uncomfortable distance. Daldry's approach nearly works until I began to feel too little for the characters in the very final moments of the film. Then I realize that I've been on a long, hard journey with these characters--I do care for them, but not without difficulty. Daldry wants us to feel like we're eavesdropping but rarely do we go beyond film-watching. I was constantly part of an audience, but never a witness.

Based on a German novel by Bernhard Schlink, The Reader begins with a torrid, secret affair between a fifteen year old boy and a thirty six year old woman. In 1958, a fever-stricken Michael Berg (David Kross) fatefully encounters Hanna Schmitz (Kate Winslet), a tram conductor. Hanna takes pity on the boy and helps him home. A few months later, Michael recovers and finds Hanna to thank her for her kindness. Michael, with his innocent, schoolboy crush on Hanna, is immediately seduced by her. Hanna takes advantage of Michael's obvious trust and infatuation to get sex and, strangely enough, literature. Michael eagerly agrees to this; he is simply teenage boy in love. Erotic sex scenes follow, but under Daldry's direction, they never feel too gratuitous.

When Hanna receives a promotion to work in the office due to excellent reviews, she leaves her tiny apartment and disappears.

Several years later, Michael is a law student, with the opportunity to observe a war-crime trial that was a result of a popular book written by one of the survivors. To Michael's complete and utter shock, Hanna is the star defendent of the trial. Hanna, along with several other middle-aged women, is charged with locking up a group of Jewish women in a church when the church was being bombed.

But Michael possesses a secret about Hanna that will change the outcome of the case. I will not reveal the secret since it seems to be central to the film's advertising, but it is a secret that Hannah is so ashamed of that she would rather die than have it revealed to the masses.

Like Hanna, Michael is ashamed too, but for something entirely different: He feels guilt for ever loving Hanna--a guard of a Nazi prison, a criminal.

Many years later, an unhappy, recently divorced, and middle-aged Michael (Ralph Fiennes) begins to come to terms with his relationship with Hanna. He still feels the lingering guilt for never summoning up the courage to help Hanna, so he begins to help Hanna in a way that he hopes can benefit her, even in prison.

But the fact that Michael never tries to persuade Hanna to reveal her secret--which would have definitely changed the outcome of her sentence--frustrates me to no end. I haven't been more angry with a film character since Rolf in The Sound of Music. This is where the spoon feeding starts: Would you convince a criminal to reveal her secret if it could help change the outcome of his or her sentence, even though you feel shame for sharing an inappropriate relationship with him or her many years ago? Michael chooses the easy path, the cowardly path. But wouldn't most people in Michael's position do the same thing? Perhaps. We never know what we'd really do in a situation until we're really in that particular situation. But whatever we decide, we have to face the consequences--whether it's guilt, shame, or regret.

A film as thought-provoking as The Reader should immediately considered a worthy film, right?

I'm honestly torn between whether I like this film or not. As I said before, The Reader is a well-made film. The cinematography by Chris Menges and Roger Deakins is superb. The score by Nico Mulhay is wonderfully effective and provides intensity and tension when needed. Daldry does a great job showing character development and even in the midst of the film's rather cold surface, there are several moving scenes but those scenes aren't enough to provide a lasting impact. But they do make me think.

I tend to exaggerate when it comes to good performances (at the moment, I'm rather ashamed to bring up any examples) but Winslet and Kross deliver spectacular performances. I don't think I've been more impressed by Winslet before, which actually makes me wonder where I've been for the past ten years. (I haven't seen Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind...yet.)

Hanna is unquestionably a flawed and despicable character, but when Michael finally discovers her secret, my heart broke for her, even though I knew it all along. When Hanna finds a way to cure her shame (with Michael's help), I cheered for her. No one can ever forgive her for her terrible crimes, but redemption is always a second option. What I feel for Hanna is all due to Winslet's complex performance--a performance that is deservingly one of the frontrunners for this year's supporting actress line-up at the Oscars. Winslet sinks into all those layers of aging make-up, but she never loses touch with her character.

Fiennes gives a fine performance here as the older Michael, but it is Kross who steals his thunder. Kross is a promising newcomer who can go head-to-head with a master like Winslet; he has endless potential. Kross makes me care for Michael when it matters most, especially when I see how he sacrifices his adolescent social life just to maintain an affair with the woman he loves. Kross makes Michael whiny and naive, wishy-washy and cowardly, like many teenage boys, I'd imagine. In the same way I eventually sympathize for Hanna, I sympathize for Michael too, all due to the foundation Kross successfully builds in the first part of the film.

David Hare's screenplay is too bare to provide any grand emotional impact, but the performances and the direction do help. There is plenty to admire in the film; the positives outweigh the negatvies. The tough questions the film asks, which can feel forced and manipulativs, are rightfully asked. As much as I pondered, comfortable answer is nowhere in sight. The Reader features a guilt-ridden atmosphere of post-WWII Germany that ponders for easy answers but finds none. At its heart, The Reader is a haunting coming-of-age story. While a nation gradually heals in the shadow of its atrocious crimes, a man begins to mend his shameful past and a woman realizes that there is a cure for her secret shame. In the case of The Reader, redemption may be key.

Endings Blog-a-Thon: ROMAN HOLIDAY

2008-12-29T20:43:00.000-08:00

When J.D. announced his Endings Blog-a-Thon over at Valley Dreamin', one film instantly came to mind...

William Wyler's 1953 romantic comedy, Roman Holiday

Nothing even came remotely close. Roman Holiday has by far one of the greatest cinematic endings I have ever witnessed.

The ending is altogether unpredictable, bittersweet, and eloquently done. It is an ending that I didn't quite see coming but also appeared to be completely inevitable. It is a genre at its most honest and heartbreaking.

Roman Holiday may have transformed Audrey Hepburn into a bonafide star, but it is Gregory Peck (along with that beautiful Roman scenery) who inhabits the film's heart and soul. The ending cements this: As Peck's character, Joe Bradley, leaves the press conference hall, he looks back with the memory of his short-lived holiday where he found joy and romance in his bland reporter's lifestyle. And Peck communicates every single feeling that I just described with zero dialogue. The music swells up, and Joe bids farewell to what could have been a lovely dream.

Since my write-up has been somewhat inadequate in describing the wonders of the greatest film ending ever, thank goodness for video and all its glory...

Merry Christmas and/or Happy Holidays!

2008-12-25T20:48:00.000-08:00

...and I present you with this fabulous scene from the modern holiday classic, Elf.

I love Zooey Deschanel, but Will Ferrell is slowly growing on me. Ferrell's bursts of versatility in films like Stranger Than Fiction and The Producers continue to shock me. And he is completely charming in Elf.

Ten Women I Admire In Film

2008-12-14T18:33:00.001-08:00

I was tagged by Shawn back in November to do this meme. This entry has been a month in the making. I'll try not to disappoint. Anyone who wants to join in all the fun is welcome to do so.

Rules:

This can be a character, actor, director, really anyone working on films. The only thing is, they must be a personality. You have to really know something about them. This rules out most producers, cinematographers, etc.

If you are a man, these man crushes [or men that you admire], obviously must be men. If you are a woman than I say they have to be a woman. They must be the same sex as the writer making their list.

You can choose anyone living or dead. They must be chosen due to their film content. If you choose Michael J. Fox and the only thing you like about him is his role in Family Ties then he doesn't work. But if you choose Michael J. Fox because you love Marty McFly, and you want to mention that you also love Family Ties, that is acceptable.

10. Amy Adams
At this rate, Adams is destined to be the future of Hollywood. After her scene-stealing performance as a smitten candy striper in Catch Me If You Can, Adams went on to an Oscar nomination for her spectacular performance as a young southern naivete in Junebug. Recently, Adams embarked on the challenge of playing a cartoon princess placed in the tough luck world of New York City in Enchanted and her performance was nothing short of excellent. I may or may not be shot for saying this, but I actually thought that Adams was better than both Marion Cotillard in La Vie en Rose and Ellen Page in Juno. As much as I enjoy watching Adams playing the naivete she plays best, I would love to see her play very different characters in the future.

9. Faye Wong
Wong has one of the most heavenly singing voice I have ever heard. Wong, as an actress, is nearly as heavenly. Rarely do I see an actress that is so natural, so unforced in her movements and speech. Wong's performances in Chungking Express and 2046 are just that. Her gift as an actress is her lack of self-consciousness and concerns for her role. She just steps into a scene and comfortably inhabits her environment.

8. Cate Blanchett
I've always felt indifferent about Blanchett's filmography. I don't care for the Lord of the Rings trilogy. I hate Bandits. The Life Aquatic of Steve Zissou may be the most disappointing film in Wes Anderson's filmography. Elizabeth is good, but not great. But I love Blanchett in all those films. The film themselves aren't extraordinary, but Blanchett usually is. The funny thing is, as much as I like The Aviator, I'm not absolutely crazy about Blanchett's Oscar-winning performance as Katharine Hepburn. But then again, I do like I'm Not There quite a bit, and absolutely adore Blanchett's performance. So yeah, she's definitely a mixed bag on some levels, but she's an unconventional beauty with a magnetic presence. I can't bear to look away whenever she's on-screen.

7. Audrey Hepburn
Hepburn was truly an original. Her natural grace, charisma, and elegance made her the bonafide star of classic Hollywood. My first Hepburn film was My Fair Lady, which is also my favorite Hepburn performance ever. Hepburn had a rare quality about her that made her instantly likable to the audience. She never had to prove anything. Even when Hepburn played a character as flawed as Holly Golightly, the audience sympathized with her. Hepburn knew how to create a character that stuck, with little apparent effort. Off-screen, Hepburn was almost just as fascinating. She had two failed marriages and one torrid love affair with William Holden (I'm completely fascinated by their relationship, by the way), but in her last years, found comfort in serving UNICEF.

6. Meryl Streep
Streep may not be the most beautiful woman in the room, but she has to be the most striking. Her grand exit from obscurity was in The Deer Hunter, but it was that powerful courthouse moment between her and Dustin Hoffman in Kramer vs. Kramer that made her a supreme Oscar-winner. And Streep has proven time and time again that she can play absolutely anything. From Woody Allen's lesbian ex-wife in Manhattan to Anne Hathaway's boss from hell in The Devil Wears Prada, Streep gives the audience a reason to love her and the Oscars a reason to nominate her whenever possible.

5. Elizabeth Taylor
Taylor's personal life has been almost as dramatic as the lives of her on-screen counterparts. But there is no denying that Taylor is a resilient soul. I love that about her. Taylor was a child star before she became the lady worth dying for. It took years before it was widely accepted that Taylor could be more than a cute child star. After she starred in the beautifully tragic A Place in the Sun, there was no question about it: Taylor was a grown-up actress. Like her contemporaries, Taylor could hold the screen by simply being on-screen. Her gorgeous looks and elegant movements simply made her and everything around her come to life. Taylor also has had the most electrifying chemistry with her male co-stars, from her then-husband Richard Burton in Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? to Paul Newman in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof.

4. Diane Keaton
Fine, Keaton was undeniably half the genius that went into the creation of Annie Hall, but sometimes I like to be the devil's advocate and argue that Annie Hall is simply not Woody Allen's best movie or Keaton's greatest performance. To elaborate on the latter, Keaton's moments of sheer greatness was as Kay Adams in The Godfather trilogy. There are many different perspectives about Keaton as Kay and very few are overwhelmingly positive. But in Keaton's hands, Kay is more than a nagging wife--she represents all of Michael Corleone's lost hopes. In a pivotal scene in The Godfather: Part II, Kay confesses to Michael that she has received an abortion and in that particular scene, Keaton explodes in front of our very eyes. It's unfortunate that even with such a spectacular scene, she couldn't garner any awards attention. It's a shame, really. But I'm glad Keaton found work and plenty of awards in her career soon afterward. Her performance as Kay definitely helped.

3. Grace Kelly
Kelly is one of the most interesting and iconic figures of the twentieth century. She was an ice blonde and emulated classic glamour. No wonder Alfred Hitchcock was completely smitten with her. Despite Kelly's short filmography, she has sustained her status as a legendary Hollywood starlet, made even more legendary by her surprising marriage to the Prince of Monaco. Kelly often took roles that required her to do more than just look pretty for the camera. She wanted to prove to the world that she could act--and act she did. Kelly received an Oscar for her amazing portrayal of the wife of an alcoholic actor in The Country Girl. It has often been debated the Kelly didn't deserve the Oscar that year and Judy Garland did for A Star Is Born. Unfortunately, I can't join this debate since I haven't seen A Star Is Born, but I can say that The Country Girl does show Kelly as a talented actress with endless potential; she easily went toe-to-toe with the likes of Bing Crosby and William Holden.

2. Zooey Deschanel
Many things has happened in Deschanel's career since I first discovered her in her scene-stealing performance in Almost Famous. For one, she has found success in both independent and mainstream films. Secondly, she became the "she" in the indie rock band, She & Him and recently released an album entitled Volume One. Deschanel has a likable and adorable presence, albeit quirky and offbeat; she is the typical indie boy's crush. Since 2004, I have been following Deschanel's career quite closely (or more closely than any other actress) and is continuously impressed by her success. Her luminous performance in All the Real Girls has permanently cemented my positive opinion of her.

1. Katharine Hepburn
I love this woman. Ever since I read Hepburn's autobiography, Me: Stories of My Life, I have been charmed by this incredibly strong and fiesty force of nature. Hepburn epitomized sophistication, class, and confidence. She also embodied the values of early twentieth century feminism and everything Hepburn believed in simply became a part of each of her performances. By appearance, Hepburn was certainly not a great beauty, but she possessed everything else that made a woman attractive, intelligent, and interesting. As an actress, Hepburn exhibited passion and energy that led to four Oscar-winning performances. Her personal life, however turbulent, was a blessing that Hepburn ultimately acknowledged.

Lookalikes: Thomas Paine and Martin Scorsese

2008-12-14T12:25:00.001-08:00

Of course I pay attention during history class!

"That's the way it should be"

2008-12-07T16:28:00.000-08:00

This post's primary goal is to make up for the recent blogging drought. And to flaunt one of my favorite scenes in any movie musical ever.

So, who else loves Bye Bye Birdie (the 1963 movie musical) as much as I do? I watched the film during Thanksgiving Break and thought it was an absolutely hilarious satire. ("Ed Sullivan?! He's my favorite human being!")

But it is also, surprisingly, an exceptionally sweet film. The scene I posted exhibits all the charm and humor of the film. I love how Ann-Margret and Bobby Rydell have such innocent, adorable chemistry. Plus, Janet Leigh constantly amazes me. And "One Boy" is just such a swell song.

"But what if I'm not the hero? What if I am the bad guy?"

2008-11-26T20:48:00.000-08:00

After I saw the film several weeks ago, I started planning this huge, mildly coherent review of Twilight. I just read my review a few second ago and found it too wordy, which really shouldn't be a surprise from anything I ever type or put on paper. So I deleted it and started from scratch.

There wasn't much to say, really...

Girl moves in with her estranged father in cloudy Forks, Wa. Becomes fairly popular in school, despite the fact that she's totally awkward and don't really mesh with the other kids. Meets a gorgeous guy who may or may not hate her. Finds out his secret--gasp--he's a vampire! Hot vampire really, really wants to suck the girl's blood but tries to control himself. (How sweet.) Instead, this other vampire really, really, really wants to suck the girl's blood but only difference is that he doesn't bother to control himself. Hot vampire and family tries to save girl and they either fails miserably or succeeds. (Take your pick.)

The film has an extremely thin plot, as many may have noticed. The heart of the film lies in the relationship between the girl, Bella Swan (Kristen Stewart) and the vampire, Edward Cullen (Robert Pattinson). The relationship itself has a certain intrigue about it, but the execution feels empty and lacking. The romance does have its share of touching moments, but not enough for me to care. Frankly, the individual characters are just not interesting enough.

Bella is somewhat interesting when she transforms into a minor sleth for several scenes until she falls into the unfortunate depths of the typical damsel in distress. Even Stewart, who does have moments of acting greatness--especially in those scenes with Billy Burke, who plays Bella's father--becomes enraptured in the cheesy dialogue and unnecessary montages. But I don't blame Stewart. Bella needs more backbone if she insists on being the protagonist of the series. It would be fine if Bella were another Mary Jane Watson or Lois Lane, but this film isn't about a superhero. This is Bella's story. Is it too much to ask for Bella to carry her own story? I do not have a single friend who likes Bella as a character. It's all about Edward...

To my frustration, Edward, the greatest love of almost every single female fan of the popular series, comes through as rather flat and boring. Sure, he seems like a pretty nice guy with a fine set of morals, but he makes me wonder: If you're over a century years old, but physically resemble a seveteen years old, do you also have to mentally resemble a seventeen year old? But Pattinson, although not alluring or charming enough to be the kind of fascinating specimen that every teenage girl would fall for, should be given some credit for delivering some ridiculous lines of dialogue without bursting into laughter.

And the whole one-hundred-plus-years-old-guy-with-seventeen-year-old-girl part still kind of disturbs me. I can't get over it, romantic fantasy or not. I mean, if you've been around for at least one hundred years, would you be attracted to a teenage girl--even if you did physicaly resemble a seventeen year old? Or, going back to my previous question, is aging--both physically and mentally--completely ceased the second you're turned into a vampire?

So many questions...

On the bright side, there is a lovely supporting cast. Burke, whom I mentioned earlier, does a quietly effective job as Bella's father. Peter Facinelli, who plays the patriarch of the Cullen clan, also does a great job with his role, despite the fact his face looks submersed in an amazingly thick layer of make-up. Taylor Lautner is also a welcome presence in the film, playing Bella's friend, Jacob. Lautner actually makes me glad that we'll see more of Jacob in the sequels (as my friends tell me).

I understand that director Catherine Hardwicke made Thirteen (which I promise I'll watch before the year ends) with a $2 million dollar budget. That doesn't mean that Twilight has to look like it was made on a low budget too; Twilight had a modest budget of about $37 million. So, where did it all go? The "special effects" (if you can them that) are laughable. There are scenes where Edward carries Bella while flying through the air (or jumping around with super high speed) and the "flying" just looks like bad animation. There is also a scene where Edward reveals why he can't go into the sun (he, um, sparkles) and the shimmering glitter on his face left everyone in my row in hysterics.

Honestly, Twilight just looks ugly and cheap most of the time. Fantasies should have an epic feel--and I'm sure there were plenty of people out there who would've loved to finance a phenomenon. The understated atmosphere of Twilight makes the film more bland than ever.

I may have a bit of a bias towards vampires or dark romances since I've never cared for them. I've never cared for danger or anything that would potentially kill me. The existence of Twilight doesn't help the genres much either. The film is ultimately a disappointment, although I wasn't expecting anything, since I am one of the few teenage girls left on this planet who hasn't finished reading the book. But if the film has any grand, redeemable quality at all, it is simply this: It's not boring.

"What is drama but life with the dull bits cut out."

2008-11-11T11:53:00.000-08:00

I am a proud frequenter of IMDb's Hit List. That tiny section on the bottom of the IMDb homepage makes my life a little bit easier and sunnier. I love my lists, commentaries, interviews, galleries, and random cinematic musings all in one accessible package. (For those exact same reasons, I adore film blogs as well.)

Recently, I found a link to FirstShowing.net's showcase of the full scans from "The 2008 Hollywood Portfolio: Hitchcock Classics." I understand the entry and the photoshoot are a bit old, but it's still a lovely set of photoshoots that deserves some mention at my neglected ol' blog.

The photoshoots are a collection of today's actors re-creating scenes from classic Hitchcock films. Some Hitchcock purists may find these pictures offensive and horrific, but I dig these kind of things--just as much as I enjoy remakes and Beatles covers.

The Vanity Fair website also features a gallery of the photoshoot, although the website does not show the full photos featured in the magazine itself. But the Vanity Fair website does include some background to the film's scene and the original still from the scene that the modern photoshoot recreated.

Personally, my favorite is Marion Cotillard in the recreation of that legendary shower scene in Psycho. The only two photographs that I don't totally dig are the ones with Emile Hirsch and James McAvoy in the Strangers on a Train photoshoot (awkward, much?) and Renee Zellweger (not looking much like Renee Zellweger or Kim Novak) in the Vertigo photoshoot.

I would love to hear what your opinions are of this lovely portfolio. But in this moment in time, I just feel like watching some Hitchcock. Who's with me? (I'm open to suggestions.)

And while we're on the subject, please check out Shawn of Deadpan's directors study of Hitchcock. It's definitely worth a read.

"Man has a choice and it's a choice that makes him a man."

2008-11-09T10:23:00.000-08:00

I've been wanting to discuss East of Eden for a while, which I watched in English class as a companion piece to Nathaniel Hawthorne's The Scarlet Letter. (And thank goodness I didn't have to watch Demi Moore play Hester Prynne.) If you happen to wonder what a Puritan society and a WWI-affed Salinas Valley setting have in common, it's all has to do with the inner conflicts of good versus evil and a guilt-ridden human being's natural urge to achieve ultimate redemption. Who knew that Cal Trask and Reverend Dimmesdale had so much in common? Not to mention the religious undertones in East of Eden (Cal and Aron = Cain and Abel!)... Of course, that's what English class is for.

Admittedly, I'm not a huge John Steinbeck fan. I've never cared for his morally ambiguous storytelling and minimalistic writing. I have read The Pearl and Of Mice and Men and I have no interest in ever touching those novels ever again. So obviously, Elia Kazan's 1955 adaptation of Steinbeck's East of Eden surprised me. I have never read East of Eden (the novel), although Oprah certainly made me aware of its existence.

Since I've never read Steinbeck's novel (and I will--someday), I can only judge Kazan's film. And it's a terrific film indeed.

On the surface, the film seems to be simply about the rivalry between twin brothers, Aron and Cal. Aron's good, Cal's bad. But the story is much more complex than that. I immediately sympathized with Cal and his efforts to impress his father. I rooted for Cal while the poor kid tries to earn back the money his father lost in the lettuce business by investing into the bean business. I even cheered for Cal when he won the heart of his brother's sweetheart.

Cal is likable because he's direct and honest. He may lack social grace, but he can't help himself. On the other hand, Aron's just a suck-up and a bore. No wonder Abra wants to leave her pragmatic side behind and take a chance on Cal.

All this is attributed to James Dean's magnetic presence on-screen. Dean's charisma never ceases: A good actor should never hide his greatest devices. East of Eden may feel a little dated, but Dean's performance was ahead of his time. Even when I intensely disliked Dean's character in Giant, I couldn't help but feel a little for Jett Rink in his final scene. Dean's performance in Giant may have been his greatest work on film, but East of Eden proved that he was a mature leading man, an improvement from his performance in Rebel Without A Cause.

East of Eden was deservingly nominated for four Academy Awards back in 1956 in the categories of Best Picture, Best Director (Kazan), Best Leading Actor (Dean, posthumously), and Best Supporting Actress (Jo Van Fleet). Van Fleet won Best Supporting Actress for her minor yet effective work as the estranged mother of Cal and Aron.

I am aware that there is a remake set for a 2009 release date. It's unfortunate that director Ron Howard is no longer attached to the film because he would have been a very appropriate choice.

On a sidenote, is no secret that I love well-done fan-made music videos of great films. I recently found this wonderful East of Eden music video, set to The Killers' song, "Read My Mind."

This was the last time to get it right...so did they?

2008-10-25T20:31:00.000-07:00

High School Musical 3: Senior Year | rel. 2008 | dir. Kenny Ortega

Currently, a part of me wants to criticize the energetic, bubbly optimism of the obviously Disney-imagined world of East High. High school is sort of the purgatory of my life right now--I will not stand for any silly, fallacious accounts of it! Unfortunately, throughout my viewing of High School Musical 3: Senior Year, I failed to realize that I just paid ten bucks for a complete cheese fest--maybe because energetic, bubbly optimism is just as contagious as the common cold.

I felt completely "in the moment" when I watched High School Musical 3. When the Disney logo came on and Zac Efron's sweaty face (and gorgeous blue eyes) filled the screen, the audience went crazy. This was the first time I ever experienced a viewing experience when the audience reacted so strongly at everything on screen. They clapped at the end of almost every single musical number ("I Want It All" and "The Boys Are Back" received a loud, approving cheer from the crowds), went soft for every Troy and Gabrielle moment, swooned at Zac Efron every time he showed up, and laughed at every comedic moment--oh, the sweet sounds of both intentional and unintentional laughter!

Normally, I like to sink into my seat in a dark, silenced theater with only the screen blaring the sounds, but I don't think I would have had such a fun time without such an enthusiastic bunch around me. Never underestimate the power of an fantastic audience. Who knew middle-aged parents, pre-teen girls, teenage boys who have crushes on Vanessa Hudgens, and elderly couples would make such wonderful company? Honestly, I can't think of a better way to spend a Friday evening.

But even if I didn't have the company of such an energetic audience, the film itself has enough energy to last. The majority seems to agree that High School Musical 3 is infinitely better than it has to be--and once in a while, the general public is right. For starters, it is much better than its predecessors--by miles.

High School Musical 3 is every bit the predictable fluff that I expected it to be. But I never expected to be genuinely entertained and charmed by the shallow (but undeniably good-intentioned and G-rated) teen conflicts, the cast, and of course, the extravagant musical numbers. In short, I came out of the theater humming the tunes and feeling rather touched by the film's finale. Let's just say that if I were a pre-teen girl, High School Musical 3 would have set some unrealistic expectations for my future high school career.

The thin plot of High School Musical 3 is nothing but a slice of a high school fantasy. For one, the first scene concludes with the East High Wildcats winning their championship basketball game, set to the cool and catchy "Now or Never." While they may have won their championship game, the senior Wilcats at East High are uncertain about (what else?) their future. For jock Troy Bolton (Efron), he has to decide to pursue either basketball with his BFF Chad (Corbin Bleu) at his father's alma mater University of Alberquerque or consider Julliard as a possibility, where he can pursue his love for the stage. Besides, Troy's (supposedly) genius girlfriend, Gabriella Montez (Vanessa Hudgens) already has her sights set on Stanford University.

Can Troy have basketball, theater, and the love of his life in one accessible package? Just use a single brain cell and you might come up with the correct answer after all... But this fun journey of teenage self-discovery is worth it.

Of course, the delightful journey includes the prom, the musical spring musical, and graduation! (Where are the tests? Finals? AP exams? Oh right, I forgot, this is high school in an alternative universe.) The senior class is staging a spring musical that chronicles their time in high school. Where there is a show, Sharpay Evans (Ashley Tisdale) is there to steal it. Her scheme? Oh, not at all as impressive as her raging antagonism in High School Musical 2, but still pretty darn conniving: She demands her twin brother Ryan (Lucas Grabeel) to steal Kelsi's (Oleysia Rulin) best songs, which are usually written for Troy and Gabriella. Plus, Sharpay never minds causing some friction in the relationship between Troy and Gabriella. This time around, she has recruited the help of British transfer student by the name of Tiara Gold (Jemma McKenzie-Browne). But once again, Tisdale proves that Sharpay is the drama queen to beat.

I couldn't wipe off the goofy smile on my face the entire time.

The inspirations for the musical span several decades: There are touches of classic Hollywood and eighties-MTV in these Disney-glossed tunes on the High School Musical 3 soundtrack--in a good way. I've always been a fan of catchy Disney tunes (however nasally they may sound) and High School Musical 3 has one of the most mind-blowing Disney soundtrack that I have heard in a while. (Yes, mind-blowing.) All the songs are made of pure win--even the lesser ones. I was busting a move in my seat like an insane maniac: "Now or Never," "The Boys Are Back," "Scream," "Right Here, Right Now," and "I Want It All" really got me moving to the beat. Nothing makes me happier than fun, catchy pop tunes. The impressive choreography (especially in "The Boys Are Back") and higher-budget set designs are a sensational plus. Director Kenny Ortega never seems to shy away from an occasional comical flair.

The returning cast can all sing and dance well. But the film belongs to the major characters, and rightfully so!

There is no arguing that Sharpay is a stereotypical villain, but Tisdale constantly makes Sharpay something more. Sharpay's grand entrance into a typical East High morning contains as much unspoken drama as the character herself. But Tisdale's moment of glory is in the face of defeat. The audience wants to see Sharpay get back up again and when she does, we cheer for her--thanks to Tisdale--because she is every bit as vulnerable and human as the rest of us.

After several months doubting Efron's acting talent, I want to issue an apology: Efron is the true star of this film. Finally, a young actor worshiped by pre-teen girls (and many others) who can act, sing, and dance! Efron possesses a certain kind of genuine charm as Troy. The awkward teenage boy and troubled jerk from the previous films are no longer there. All that there is left is a sympathetic, all-around nice guy who just can't decide which path he wants to take in life. Efron's performance is the crux of the film; it's the kind of performance that convinces me that Hudgens's unapologetic blandness is pretty darn close to irresistible sweetness.

I can safely say that I spied an ounce of chemistry between Efron and Hudgens. I've been waiting for this moment to happen for a while... How essential, since this is a romance.

As much as I enjoyed High School Musical 3, the film isn't without flaws. There are moments thorughout the film that feels somewhat rushed. Some of the musical numbers--as amazing as they are--still have some room for perfection. The transitions still have a bit of an awkward made-for-TV quality--something they should have left out when they switched to widescreen. The three freshmen who are supposedly taking over our beloved class of 2008 in an upcoming High School Musical 4 are weak and uninteresting. (Yes, I'm talking to you, Tiara, Jimmie, and Justin!) And like any filmgoer, I would have appreciated a little more conflict.

Calling High School Musical 3 cheesy or predictable isn't much of a criticism. In fact, it's almost a compliment since it must have been exactly what the film was aiming for. But it's perfectly cheesy and predictable--and that is, by the way, the compliment of a highest order I can give to such a film. The film is about 112 minutes long, but it is probably one of the fastest 112 minutes of my life. High School Musical 3 may be a cavity-inducing Valentine for its core audience, but it also ceased all rain and thunder in my life that Friday evening. Being a teenager who just recently discovered that her entire future may unfold at any moment, I related to the premise of High School Musical 3. Like Sharpay, I want it all. But fortunately, I sat through a movie that almost has it all.

Rating: 8.5/10