The Ones Oscar Didn't Choose

I apologize in advance for pointed rants about this one. Here are the
most painful snubs for me to bear this year...it was a doozy.

The Fall for Art Direction and Costume Design
While the film itself wasn't the greatest (though Lee Pace nails his part of a morphine crazed Hollywood stuntman), the visual quality of the film was a real beaut. Director Tarsem created a crazy, dizzy world that was a phenomenal artistic achievement. Showy for sure, but why not go all out. The Academy unfortunately preferred the muted tones of Changeling and The Curious Case of Benjamin Button instead.

Darren Aronofsky, The Wrestler for Direction
In a filmography that includes depressing anarchic snapshots of life like Pi and Requiem For a Dream, The Wrestler is certainly the most humanistic of his work-- also the most heartbreaking. In what could have been a generic tale of redemption in someone else's hands becomes a quietly revelatory and moving piece of art. Mickey Rourke's incredible comeback performance got a nomination (deservedly), but what of man who staged it. The Academy has yet to acknowledge Mr. Aronofsky personally, but then again they never paid attention to David Fincher (an equally unflinching, detailed director) until he sucumbed to typical Oscar catnip.

James Franco in Milk (or Pineapple Express)
What a year did Mr. Franco have- two wonderfully unexpected performances, and yet despite a Golden Globe comedy nod (for Pineapple) and Critics Choice nomination (for Milk), he mostly got the shaft. This is not unexpected necessarily, but still not right in my book. Not only did he expand his career with these marvelous turns, but surprised with his great sense of ease for
comedy. The warmth exhibited in these two movies makes me forget the last couple of years of forgettable movies. And yet nothing...boo, especially this year where best supporting actor was a mixed bag.

Jonathon Demme, Rachel Getting Married for Direction
In the 1980s before Mr. Demme has one an Oscar for The Silence of the Lambs, he was honing his craft on small comedy-dramas like Married to the Mob, Something Wild, Swing Shift and Melvin and Howard. On first observation they might have appeared smallish, but they were all memorable humanistic stories with a free floating structure and a fine sense or character-- as well as luminous showcases for actresses like Michelle Pfieffer, Melanie Griffith, and Mary Steenburgen. It's been a long time since Demme has made a film so intimate and felt before, and that's part of what makes Rachel Getting Married such a remarkable thing-- his returned with one of most joyous ventures yet, again with a fine showcases for one of the best ensembles of the year, but of course Ron Howard broke new ground too. (Didn't he?)

Vicky Christina Barcelona for Original Screenplay
C'mon Academy members! True Original Screenplay was pretty strong this year (a rarity), but this one is a lot better than In Bruges. You've never had a problem honoring Woody Allen in the past, but when the master comes up with something worthy, but deny him. Sure he probably wouldn't show up (Woody has notoriously rejected the Academy salivation in the past), but he's an American treasure, and this was one of strongest films in years.

Rosemarie DeWitt in Rachel Getting Married
As I am delighted Anne Hathaway got nominated for her terrific performance, I'm still confounded how DeWitt got so shamefully overlooked this entire season. Most of the thrill of Rachel Getting Married is the complex volley between DeWitt and Hathaway-- both actresses
coaxed such deeply felt everything from each other. There's anger and shouting (great for Oscar clips), but also warmth and silliness. And the great thing about is how authentic it all felt. It's great for Hathaway, but wheres the love for Rachel herself.

WALL-E for Picture
I knew it wasn't going to happen, but I wish to dream in a perfectly idealized world for a second, where a film as powerful and entertaining and popular as this one could for some dasterdly reason get a birth to top award. Beauty and the Beast is the only animated film to do so, and I believe it's time for another...one day! The unfortunate thing is that I know the love for this one will out last the Academy support of middling films like Frost/Nixon and The Reader, as evident by there hideous box office-- even being nominated hasn't made anybody want to see them. HA!

Bruce Springsteen's "The Wrestler," for Original Song
This one was just plain wrong. What's the deal with the Song category this year-- three nominations (two for Slumdog, one for WALL-E) and no love for The Boss. It's a crime-- this one is actually a great song by itself, but it's also a deeply felt song perfectly insynch with the beautiful film it's set against. Yes, Bruce has an Oscar already (for "Streets of Philadelphia" from Philadelphia, 1993), but that's never bothered them before-- during the early 90s the Disney teams won every year for a while. This is a plain travesty. The song was eligible, what no one listened? I thought the new song rules implemented in the last year were meant to eliminated multiple songs for one film, was supposed to make the field stronger, not weaker. What? Why? Boo! Shameful! Then again the Academy is again notorious for making bad decisions in the music categories (last years painful omisision of Jonny Greenwood's amazing score in There Will Be Blood brings to mind.)

The Dark Knight for Picture
And the most painful one, but of course. This one is just appalling on all levels. For a film of such widespread support everywhere else--those eight other nominations indicate it's broad Academy appeal, but to miss out on the big one to middlebrow nonsense that no one will bother to remember tomorrow is an outright travesty. It's not just that I personally found The Dark Knight to be a great movie (which I do), but the fact that this was a big (HUGE) film adored almost universally for the second it opened to record breaking box office. Forget about the comic book nerds-- critics loved it, the general public spent hard earned cash on it several times (even during these recession days), the film nerds loved it, the elitist film nerds loved it. And what's wrong with breaking the mold for this Godfather, Part II of superhero flicks. The real pain may come on Oscar night itself, when the ratings plummet to there worst on record. I'll be watching, because it's in my blood, but I won't blame the ones that tune out, for the members of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences have clearly already tuned out to the very obvious pleas of movie fans everywhere.

Top Ten of 2008

I finally feel ready saying goodbye to the film year of 2008. These are my favorites in what was a somewhat lackluster year. But what I like about this eclectic group of fine films is the genuine emotion I felt from a fairly genre specific group. There's a couple of biggie summery blockbusters, a pair of under seen documentaries, a rousing biopic, a sex comedy(actually two) a comeback sports movie, and an Oscar bait drama with a capital D (again two.) What's refreshing about this list is a mostly optimistic feel central in almost all of these films, very fitting in the year of Obama, and hopeful mighty change.

10- YOUNG@HEART
What on the surface is a blandly made made-for-TV doc about a geezer singing group is one of the gleefully made pieces of pop art made in 2008. Earnest yes, but I'll take this in a heartbeat over saccharine overload, cute docs like Mad Hot Ballroom anyday. What's here is an grandly entertaining pean to youth. And the soulful rendition of Coldplay's "Fix You" will leave even the most cold hearted in tears.

9- FORGETTING SARAH MARSHALL
In the nicely traditional Apatow-ian spirit comes another impishly hilarious (and slightly brutal) testament to the screwyness of relationships. Jason Segal proudly droups trou for his comedy, and anchors this mellow confectionary that had the best laugh ratio of anything in 2008, and actually out-aced both 2007's Superbad and Knocked Up. Rejoice-- the R-rated sex comedy has been granted at the very least one more year. Also kudos to Mila Kunis for more than aptly offering a leading lady every bit as charming and crude as the men.

8- BIGGER, STRONGER, FASTER
Out in theaters for about a second last summer, Bigger, Stronger, Faster is an informative and mediative discussion of steriods. The movie faded before the Beijing Olympics, but is an insightful indictment of an American culture that really doesn't know what it's take on it is. What's refreshing about this documentary is not only the personal aspects (it centers around a group of brothers, all of whom have dabbled in the past, present or future), but that there's no definitive answer to it's question, just more questions. Lots of interesting facts are thrown about (pop culture ones, medical ones, legislative ones), but the debate continues. I hope this finely made film finds it's audience eventually-- it's worth it!

7- DOUBT
Haven't seen the play, so I can't compare, but one surely can't deny the powerful effects of watching these masterful actors working so feverishly. The story is cloudy, but it's supposed to be-- it's refreshingly complicated, without backing out to some sort of climax that isn't earned. But never mind that, focus on the chamber piece scene between Meryl Streep (as 1960s Catholic school principle) and Viola Davis (as the mother of boy suspected to have been molested) and there's absolutely no doubt that watching to raw power of singularly wonderful actors at the strength of their powers can't move, inspire, or make anything seem possible.

6- VICKY CRISTINA BARCELONA
After years of idealized Manhattan in unrealisticly neuroticly beautiful ways (and a few not so beautiful, granted), the finest American screenwriter (that would be Woody Allen) has made a point in recent years to branch out-- first to England (the well reguarded Match Point, Scoop and Cassandra's Dream), and now to Spain. The movie feels like a greatly needed summer vacation-- simmering, relaxing, romantic, and blessidly still pretty neurotic (though here in atypical yet familar Woody rhythms), and it all feels pretty good. And true to spirit, it's a lovely romantic comedy without any fairy tale endings, just experiences. Featuring terrific performances from Javier Bardem (who Chigruh would be be such a great leading man), Rebecca Hall, and especially Penelope Cruz, this was the most blissful movie of the year (save for my top pick of course.)

5- THE DARK KNIGHT
What the movie event of the decade is only at number 5-- well sorry, it is. But Christopher Nolan's mammoth achievement should never feel dwarfed. Interestingly while most of the films on this list have an optimistic Barak spirit to them, this one is firmly in Bushian gloom and dread-- but it's all the better for it. It redefines what a superhero flick can be, hell it redefines what a genre picture can be. It can be big, but also smart, saavy, and emotionally resonant. While the Oscar nomination didn't come (and unfortuneatly the Academy may have to bite the dust on less than stellar ratings for that one), there's no denying the power, the awe factor, the mega glory of The Dark Knight. Unquestionably I'll be in tears when Heath Ledger wins the award this year.

4- RACHEL GETTING MARRIED
As a fan of Jonathon Demme circa 1980s as well as a huge fan of Altman's The Wedding, I eagerly awaitted Rachel Getting Married, and I'm more than happy with the experience. This may be the first time I actually feel that handheld digital cameras helped form the story rather than just look dinky and messy. Centering around Anne Hathaway's damaged recovering druggie returning home for her sister's wedding-- nothing here feels false, even though Jenny Lumet's script feels like it may trap itself as a Lifetime movie of the week any minute-- it never does. It feels authentic and as though I was invited to these nupitals. The scene that hooked me in (and probably completely detached it from others) was the long toasting sequence. Everyone speaks and everyone gets a chance to chime in, and inform the story, alter the relationships. It's awkward, it's funny, it's touching, it's difficult...it feels very real. Hathaway is tremedous and fully goes into her characters less than lovable moods, while the ensemble cast is great. Where was the Oscar support for Rosemarie DeWitt, or Bill Irwin (my favorite as the enabling father.) Jonathon Demme's best film since The Silence of the Lambs and his warmed since Married to the Mob.

3- THE WRESTLER
Darren Aronofsky's brilliant ace of a movie is small, but Mickey Rourke is not-- his megawatt movie star charisma is still as bold as ever, even as his face has changed oh so much. There's a sweetness and a melencholy to this redemption sports tale, but also a revelatory kick, in that everything that's old is new again. Who would have expected a midlife flirtation between a past his prime wrestler and a stripper would be the most heartfelt source of romantic longing in movies this past year? (Well second, after my number one picture) Who knew Rourke would stage such a magnificent comeback? Or that Marisa Tomei would sparkle so much? No one knew, but that's the beauty of The Wrestler. Angriest Oscar snub of the year: the rejection of Bruce Springsteen's beautiful theme.

2- MILK
Far from a stale biographical film, this loving and haunting portrait of the first gay man elected in public office is rousing as it is relevant. In chronicling the heartbreaking tale of Harvey Milk, Gus Van Sant has made a passionate ode to a mostly unknown piece of California history, thanks to a fresh and informative script from Dustin Lance Black and a wonderful performance from Sean Penn, in his most thoughtful and warm performance to date. But Milk is also much more, so much more, a battle cry for all voices, and embracement of acceptance in all forms and most importantly a crowdpleasingly hopeful shout for freedom. No other movie felt so needed to be told in 2008 (especially in the days of Prop.8.) Thankfully it was also an artful and moving story with the best ensemble cast of the year. Penn carried it, but James Franco, Josh Brolin, Allison Pill, Joseph Cross and Emile Hirsch ran with it.

and drumroll please...

1- WALL-E
The most beautifully enchanting apocalyptic robot love story ever made. Andrew Stanton (already a Pixar maestro with Finding Nemo) added to stock of the indominible brand with this classic melding of Spielbergian sentiment in a Kubrickian world. A deep, meditative story (really the first Pixar great I believe better suited for adults) of an earth almost gone and humanity all but a folly, a trash compacting robot proved to the most charming (in all his "little tramp" tendencies) and irresistable of all.

Late Summer Goodies

BURN AFTER READING
After No Country For Old Men, there was bound to be a setback from the brothers Coen, but those crafty genre-shifting clever than thou siblings have concocted a funny absurdest caper that proves a worthy antidote to dreary world of Cormac McCarthy. Burn After Reading, easily the Coen's most successful comedy since The Big Lebowski is nifty, strange little ditty, it's easily the cutest film they've ever done, despite all the violence in the second half-- it Coen-lite, but after proving their superior worth last year, it's refreshing. Centered around a scorned, middle weight CIA agent (John Malkovich) whose CD containing bits of a hopeful memoir turn up in a local Washington area gym winds up in the hands of dim instructor (Brad Pitt) and an image-weary, online dating obsessive (Frances McDormand), the two then in turn try and blackmail the agent in hopes of cash leading down a convoluted story muddled by the CIA agent's icy wife (Tilda Swinton) and her "male"- stress (George Clooney), Whew! It never quite makes sense and yet it does, and the lunacy becomes quite becoming. The joy of this strange brand of comedy that the Coen Brothers stage comes from the fact that each of the ensemble members is shaded just enough that an entire movie could easily be centered around any of them. Malkovich, that strange bald ball of Method is always interesting, never more so here than when he utters the word "memoir." Pitt is quite adorable in his first Coen role, playing dumb so earnestly-- he's easily the most likable character. McDormand, in a role that seems a little sick especially when you think her husband Joel wrote and directed this, as always is fetching, and a jolly counterpoint to the icy but ravishing Swinton. It's only Clooney who never quite jelled for me-- in a film where everyone is deadpan, he's just a clown-- he's biggest laugh in the movie (I won't spoil it) is funny, but nonsensical. But the ever generous Coens redeem with regular great supporting roles for Richard Jenkins and J.K. Simmons. Burn After Reading is a total lark and is a bit slow in the first half, but a diverting little ditty of screwball comedy. B


VICKY CRISTINA BARCELONA
Woody Allen goes to Spain for the first time and the results are quite beautiful. Nothing can compare to his '70s gems, but this first one of the last decade seems to come the closest. Vicky Cristina Barcelona has a lightness, a romanticism, and a warmness one may have thought Allen lost a long time ago. The story or travelogue follows two young American girls spending the summer in the Barcelona. Vicky (Rebecca Hall-- you might remember her in The Prestige) is a studious uptight gal about to married to a professional type (Chris Messina, currently creeping out innocent moviegoers with a small role in Towelhead) readying her rational and conventional step into adulthood. Cristina (Scarlett Johansson) is a free wheeling adventurer trading men and career options on a whim, trying to find suits her, while probably more interested in the hunt than the result. Both gals on the outset are archetypes, but both actresses invest such vivid intelligence and longing into their roles that are by turns surprising and sexy and funny. Johansson is quite good more or less playing a kinkier version of her character in Lost in Translation. Along the way they meet suave painter Juan Antonio (Javier Bardem) who whisks the girls on a weekend getaway. At first, especially to Vicky, he comes across as a typical Latin lothario, but Bardem brings such an authentic tenderness to the role, it's convincing when both girls fall for him. There's a fourth main character too, and she arrives about halfway through-- Juan Antonio's tragic ex-wife Maria Elena (played with mad gusto by a never better Penelope Cruz,) and she changes the film, but keeps the rhythm going, if that makes any sense. Allen's latest is sensuous and lovely in a way most romantic comedies never are-- this is in fact a romantic comedy in which there really isn't any happy ending, but evocative nonetheless. My only quibble with the film was the vacuous narration that never added anything that wasn't already expressed by the actors working at the top of their respective games. A-