The Devil's Avocado

The Academy Award Nominations will be announced tomorrow. 

I do not care.

Or at least that’s what I say.  I’ve made no secret of my distaste for this gaudy, self-congratulatory, unimaginative “celebration” of movies.  I wrote extensively about it here.  But I can’t deny that my interest is piqued for tomorrow’s announcement.  And for one reason only - other than bitter curiosity:

Ten Best Picture nominees.

People have been complaining that this dilutes the supreme, unimpeachable power of the FIVE nominations.  But, really… really? … have the five nominees for Best Picture been powerful? Really?

Slice into 10 > 5

I devour movies and music with a voracious appetite.  All styles, all forms, genres, old and new - I am a junky for this stuff.  Music and movies are my favorite things.  They have been for a long time, and I have done as much as I’ve been able to get to know these two glorious art forms.  I consider myself an expert in both. 

But I am still a baby.  There is still so much more to learn, to experience.  Particularly with music - which has been around since the dawn of man.  But movies - well, I’ve got a little more of a hold on that art form since it has been around for a considerably shorter time…about 100 years. 

I can see the arch, from foundation to present innovation, very clearly.  I am aware of almost all the landmarks and have been able to witness most of them firsthand - that is the beauty of film.  But the form is still so deep and rich, every time you get past another layer, a layer you think is the most significant, you discover another layer that is its equal, if only stranger and more personal.  I love discovering.

So, it has troubled me that I have largely ignored one of cinema’s most important and intoxicating and romantic of landmark eras - the French New Wave. 

I saw Breathless years ago, often considered the best (or first or most important) film of the movement, and did not care for it.  At all.  It left a bad taste in my mouth.  Whenever I tried going back, to almost ANY French Flick made after 1960 (I love the earlier stuff, particularly Renoir), that same icky taste returned to my taste buds.  Just…icky.  Right? I have always had a deep respect for the advances the French New Wave brought to us, but I have been less respectful to the movies themselves - almost kinda like special effects extravaganza crap-fests that have forwarded the look of films, but not so much the storytelling. 

Yikes! I hadn’t really had that analogy in mind when I started writing this, but there it is.  That said, I decided recently to shove several of them down my throat like the good medicine they are:

Slice into The French New Wave dish is a little bit icky, a little bit rich

Everyone loves a monkey shit fight, right? Sploosh, thhhpthpthpthpth, boom, stinky, poopy - monkey shit fight.  One at another.  A return.  Some collateral splatter and then more angry participants.  It’s difficult to clarify who got it started, but it sure is beautiful to see all that shit flying through the air, shit exploding onto faces, shit dripping from eye brows…

I mean, that’s why we have Jerry Springer, right? That’s why we have Cops and Cheaters and The Hills, right? To watch the silly monkeys bare their gapped tooth snarls, speak in a new language consisting mostly of beeps, whip their tits out to use as weapons, grab hair, gargle, hiss and like totally diss one another, bitch.  That’s why we’ve enjoyed the feud between Conan, Leno and NBC - to see the monkeys fling their shit.  Right? And maybe toss in a few juicy nuggets of our own?

Jay Leno is a cowardly, opportunistic, impassive, pandering hack.  There’s my piece of flying shit.  He seems like a good man - nice, loyal, fairly humble.  He’s certainly done good things.  But he is not harmless.

Here’s how it looks to me:

Slice into Leno doesn’t give a shit.

A response to Janine’s Crazy Heart: If Only It Was All Music

A live concert featuring the music from the movie “would save folks the trouble of sitting through the two-plus hour glorified made-for-TV movie.”  “That characterization sounds harsh, but save for Bridges nuanced performance…the film has ‘Lifetime’ written all over it.”

-Janine

It’s easy to characterize Crazy Heart as Lifetime fluff.  You watch the previews, you think you’ve seen this movie before.  Heck, even while you’re watching it, you can probably guess what’s going to happen and be right.  This story’s been told.  Sure.  Many many many times - it’s been told.  There have been at least two other major musical biopics in recent years that have garnered much acclaim and attention…(even though they told essentially the same story)…

Ray - a real piece of horse shit, which panders to its audience a terrific impersonation (by the terrific ham Jamie Foxx) to make them feel as though they are watching something deeper than merely a checklist of events. 

Walk the Line - even though it fumbles with the requisite crisis and simplistic psychological cause for said crisis (a prick father and dead brother, in this…racism and a dead mother, in Ray…), the performances are alive, the music is alive, the whole thing feels very alive and very exciting.

And then there’s Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story, which rips these and many others apart (and somehow manages to create a sort of liveliness of its own). 

These stories CAN be told effectively, entertainingly, deeply.  Even though they’ve been told before. 

Even though they’ve been told before…on Lifetime.

Slice into Crazy Heart is no Lifetime movie

It’s Monday, which means list time. However, I’m breaking a few rules. First, this list contains just five items instead of 11. Why? Maybe it’s my own mini protest against the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences’ decision to include 10 nominees in the Best Picture category at this year’s Academy Awards. This new practice cheapens the significance of scoring a nomination and I’m not going to do the same to the items below. Also, I’m focusing on television. Deal with it.

Without further adieu, here are the top five greatest moments in television history:

1) “Clarabell’s Big Surprise”

On the final episode of the long-running children’s program, “The Howdy Doody Show,” Clarabell the Clown reveals to Buffalo Bob that he can, in fact, talk. After years of communicating through the honk of a horn and a penchant for spraying seltzer on fellow cast members, the loveable clown looks into the camera in the final seconds of the show and just barely above a whisper, tearfully says “goodbye kids” before the screen fades to black. I’ve seen a total of two episodes of “The Howdy Doody Show” in my life, but the characters cross generations. For anyone who has had to bid farewell to a favorite television show after multiple seasons, this moment encapsulates the feeling of loss. Looking at the show from an outsider’s perspective, it’s also heartbreaking to witness these guys basically losing a job they needed and loved. Just try watching this without shedding a tear. The big moment comes in at the 2:51 mark.

2) “Shut the Door, Have a Seat”

The season three finale of “Mad Men” will go down as one of the greatest finales ever broadcast. Between the caper-like feel of assembling a rogue team to launch a new advertising firm with Don Draper at the helm and the excrutiating demise of Draper’s marriage, the episode popped on so many levels. But, the stand-out moment occurs between Draper and his protégé Peggy. Angered by the way Don assumes she’ll do whatever he tells her and still smarting from a past meeting where Don takes all of his bottled-up frustrations and unjustly lays into her, Peggy takes a stand and flirts with other offers. This forces Don to pay Peggy a special visit at her home to convince her to join him in this new endeavor. He doesn’t beg or plead (that’s not Don Draper’s style), he calmly states her worth both professionally and personally. Peggy knows if she stays with the man who single-handedly allowed her to break the glass ceiling and move up from the secretary pool into her own office, she’ll have to endure Don’s mood swings and ego, but if she walks away from the offer, she’ll lose her mentor forever. “If I say no, you’ll never speak to me again,” she tearfully says knowing the answer before she even utters the words. And then, unexpectedly, almost uncharacteristically, Don looks her straight in the eye and stoically says, “No, I will spend the rest of my life trying to hire you.” After three seasons of rooting for Don Draper despite the infidelity, the lies, the inability to connect with another human being on any level other than “it’s just business,” this moment confirms that all is not lost. Don Draper can be redeemed. The heart-dropping scene occurs at the 3:40 mark.

Mad Men: Season three recap

Slice into Lists! Top five moments in television history

After the release of “Walk Hard:  The Dewey Cox Story,” John C. Reilly literally took his character and a makeshift band on tour to play live in front of true fans and the curious.  The whole thing was a big, fat joke, but the musicians were skilled, Reilly charmed the crowd and the music trumped anything you’d hear in a bar on a given night.

If only someone could convince Jeff Bridges and T-Bone Burnett to follow suit in order to promote “Crazy Heart.”  It’s a pipe dream, of course.  The film has already garnered deafening Oscar buzz with Bridges almost a shoe-in to win the Best Actor prize (among the other glittering statuettes he’s up for in the coming month) and he’s far too much of a serious actor to agree to such a crass parlor trick.  But, “Crazy Heart in Concert” would save folks the trouble of sitting through the two-plus hour glorified made-for-TV movie.

That characterization sounds harsh, but save for Bridges nuanced performance as washed-up country singer Bad Blake and the deliriously moody music written by Burnett and the late Stephen Bruton (Ryan Bingham contributed “The Weary Kind” – the film’s tour de force), the film has “Lifetime” written all over it.

Bridges plays Otis “Bad” Blake at the tail-end of his career as a drunk, bumbling Kris Kristofferson-like fellow.  The days of tour buses, roadies and plush catering tables have long since passed.  He now drives solo cross country in a jalopy to perform in dive bars and bowling alleys to a handful of loyal listeners.  Maybe a fading groupie will pass him her number after the show, but he’s more than likely to head back to the hotel and its On Demand porn with a bottle in one hand and in the other…. Slice into ‘Crazy Heart’: If only it was all music

Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans

Nothing like the 1992 original masterpiece. And NOTHING like that bland, generic poster they’re trying to promote this thing with. This is a lively, funny, bizarre, BIZARRE ride that dances wildly on the boundaries of taste, genre and sanity. You’ll be hearing a lot about how this is Cage’s best performance in years. This performance is everything you  used to love about Cage, while having a little fun with everything you now hate.  And let’s not forget director Herzog, who is just as visible here as the star - this is possibly the most entertaining movie he’s ever made.  That might not mean much to some, so I’ll go further - this is definitely one of the most entertaining movies of 2009.

The Merry Gentleman

Michael Keaton hasn’t done his career (once glowing huge with blockbusters like Batman and several classic comedies and dramadies) any favors since inexplicably taking on Jack Frost. But few actors are capable of being this smart, this funny, this watchable, this dark and eccentric on such a quiet, understated level (though he has certainly had his showboat numbers).  He brings those same sensibilities to his directorial debut - a movie that brilliantly puts to use Chicago and a nice selection of her actors (most notably the great Guy Van Swearingen).

Land of the Lost

Really really really not a good movie. Personally, I think the problem rose from deciding to make it PG-13 instead of PG and casting Ferrell as a prideful doofus scientist rather than a dad. You may know very little about the original show - but if you know anything, you likely know that it is about a dad and his two kids in a sort of Dino Land.  Most of the gags are unbelievably inapporopriate for the only audience young enough to follow the story with any interest.  And wouldn’t you rather see Ferrell as a Dad instead of his usual jackass character? Wouldn’t that have been fun? But I love Ferrell and Danny McBride - and they do what they can here.  Plus I geek out over sci-fi/fantasy settings - however cheesy.  I was about to say I still like this movie a tiny little bit…and then I listened to jag-bag Brad Silberling’s director commentary.  What a jag.

Memories of Murder

If you liked Fincher’s masterpiece Zodiac, you should try this flick from Korea. Another one that is much more about the maddeningly unsatisfying years of detective work trying to catch a serial killer…rather than the serial killing. I suspect that’s one of the reasons kids didn’t like Zodiac, actually - the lack of stabbery. (This is also based on a true story…and one of Tarantino’s favorite movies of the last two decades…)