The Return of Tribeca - And Me

I've been a terrible blogger the past two months, I know. I promised I'd write a Watchmen review - and didn't. I wanted to sing the praises of Sugar and Duplicity - never got around to it. I wanted to rave about how Amy Adams finally played something beyond charming (in Sunshine Cleaning) - so much for that idea.

Now we're at my favorite time of the cinema year, the Tribeca Film Festival. Once again, I'm volunteering in the Industry department. Alas, this year we don't have formal press and industry screenings, so I have no fun buzz to pass along. All the flicks I see will be as an audience member. I sprung for a fancy ticket package that allowed me early access to my purchases, and it was worth every bit of that $225. The only thing I couldn't get between that and my American Express card was the fancy, talking-heads screening of The Girlfriend Experience. I'll have to "settle" for the world premiere instead.

Here's what I'll be seeing in the coming weeks. I'll be filing dispatches as I did in 2008.

1) Lost Son of Havana, a Luis Tiant documentary.
http://www.tribecafilm.com/filmguide/The_Lost_Son_of_Havana.html

2) Black Dynamite, a blaxsploitation sendup. If it's even half as good as Undercover Brother, I'll be gleeful. P.S. This sold out faster than anything else at the festival. Thank goodness for the Harrison Package.
http://www.tribecafilm.com/filmguide/Black_Dynamite.html?c=y&3301=170131&curView=browseDetail&sortBy=title

3) Soundtrack for a Revolution, a documentary combining history and soul music. All it would need to be a perfect blend for me: sports. I guess I'm getting that fix three days earlier. I'm also excited my friend Carrie K. came down from Boston for the weekend for, among other things, the festival.
http://www.tribecafilm.com/filmguide/Soundtrack_for_a_Revolution.html?c=y&page=2&&sortBy=title&curView=browseDetail&searchStartDate=04-18-2009&3301=170216&pageSize=15

4) Burning down the House: The Story of CBGB. More music documentary, more friends from out of town - this time Amy from Kansas.
http://www.tribecafilm.com/filmguide/Burning_Down_the_House_The_Story_of_CBGB.html?c=y&3301=170131&curView=browseDetail&sortBy=title

5) Playground. Michelle's and my trifecta of tough women's documentaries begins. Amy, who's in the NYC area for the entire festival, joins us. http://www.tribecafilm.com/filmguide/Playground.html?c=y&3301=170201&curView=browseDetail&sortBy=title

6) The Girlfriend Experience. The aforementioned world premiere.
http://www.tribecafilm.com/filmguide/The_Girlfriend_Experience.html?c=y&3301=170156&curView=browseDetail&sortBy=title

7) Easy Virtue. I know the film has a distributor and a release date, but I am such a sucker for British costume productions based on literary works. How can I resist?
http://www.tribecafilm.com/filmguide/Easy_Virtue.html

8) Rachel. Part 2 of my documentary tour with Michelle.
http://www.tribecafilm.com/filmguide/Rachel.html?c=y&3301=170211&curView=browseDetail&sortBy=title

9) Fixer: The Taking of Ajmal Nagshbandi. The last of the tough-issues collection with Michelle. The flick has received great buzz in several publications, including New York magazine. Of course, as a good journalist, I find this intriguing.
http://www.tribecafilm.com/filmguide/Fixer_The_Taking_of_Ajmal_Naqshbandi.html?c=y&3301=170151&curView=browseDetail&sortBy=title

More Oscar Thoughts (fashion and show)

A long-lost Oscar buddy chose to reply to my last blog post over email, the form of communication I used when I wrote back to her. I'm copying and pasting the majority of that email over here as my show review.

How could I forget to mention Goldie Hawn??? My mother and I were aghast when we saw her. Meryl Streep was a beautifully dressed mature woman; in fact, it was the best we'd ever seen her look at an awards show. The dove gray is not my favorite color in the world, but at least Ms. Streep looked age-appropriate. Hawn, on the other hand, continues to think she's her daughter. I don't want to see that much of my own cleavage in the shower, never mind the cleavage of a woman twice my age on the Academy stage.

Brad Pitt also had distracting jewelry. Did he show up in his class ring?

The commentators on the E! fashion-show recap last night said Tilda Swinton was fashion-forward. Eh? I thought it was better than the Hefty bag, but that's not saying much.

THE SHOW:

I've found reaction to Hugh Jackman interesting. Most TV critics have been "meh," but message-board posters have been a lot more positive. I'm with the on-the-couch crowd. I really enjoyed the opening number and him in general. The Steve Martin/Tina Fey patter was awesome, but most comedy stuff doesn't work for hours on end. I'm so glad the Academy decided to go non-comedian for a year.

I thought the grouping of similar awards was a great idea: It sped the show along, and it kept us from suffering through minor stars cluttering up my time. On the other hand, this means we had to sit through killer yearbook filler. Why? Sure, the Judd Apatow short was funny - stoner James Franco watching Milk James Franco was hysterical - and my mother enjoyed the musical sequence (I found it too slapped together), but why were they there?

Also a mess: The presentation of the best-song numbers (again, five songs could've been nominated this year) and the bizarre pan-and-scan during the dead-people montage. I didn't mind Queen Latifah singing - her jazz albums are great - but I didn't know where to focus. It didn't help that I couldn't read the names of some of the people who died.

I really enjoyed the way the acting awards were presented, and it allowed us to see stars we haven't in some time. (Eva Marie Saint: another classily dressed older woman. Goldie? Whoopi? Are you taking notes?) Some of the patter bugged me - see Nicole Kidman introducing Angelina Jolie - but for the most part, the presenters seemed so excited to be introducing their peers' work. I especially enjoyed Swinton on Marisa Tomei, Shirley MacLaine on Anne Hathaway (and Hathaway's reaction), and Robert DeNiro (!!!) on Sean Penn.

As for the winners ... I like Slumdog, but it's overhyped. (I support Best Director for Danny Boyle, though.) I favored Frost/Nixon or Milk. I was thrilled for Sean Penn, although a teeny part of me hoped against hope for Richard Jenkins. I know this is an unpopular sentiment, but I was not rooting for Kate Winslet. I didn't like her in The Reader at all. Had she been nominated for Revolutionary Road, I would have been all over that. (My pick was Hathaway.) Heath Ledger's family handled his award acceptance very well. As for Penelope Cruz: I normally don't like her or Woody Allen. That I enjoyed her and Vicky Cristina Barcelona as much as I did means that was one justly deserved award.

White-Out

A review of the show will come later. I'm including a link to USA Today's photo gallery and numbers in parentheses so you can judge some shots for yourself. See the fashions link about a third of the way down on the left.

http://www.usatoday.com/life/default.htm

Boston is experiencing yet another snow and ice storm today. That doesn't mean I needed to have Hollywood fashionistas create a homage to it on the red carpet last night.

Yes, Oscar fashion was one big yawn and miss. We didn't see black, black, black - or, as we did at the Screen Actors Guild Awards, red, red, red - so I suppose that left us with the last remaining generic neutral: white, or something really close to it. A couple of people did this well, namely Penelope Cruz (2). My mother and I simultaneously said her Balmain dress looked bridal (we did this with the same vocal inflections; clearly, we are related), but it was pretty nevertheless, and it fit. My father liked it, too. Unlike Anne Hathaway (4) and Evan Rachel Wood (27), Cruz's neckline didn't aim for artistic: With Hathaway and Wood, their structured tops made them look as if they weren't filling out their strapless dresses enough. Unlike Sarah Jessica Parker (6) and her "barely mint," Marisa Tomei (5), and Miley Cyrus (17), Cruz had a dress that was poufy without being over-the-top busy. Unlike Jennifer Aniston (16), Cruz mixed up her usual looks. (Note to Aniston: Beach hair, tan skin, black or off-white dress are overdone. I feel as if I saw that look in 1999 ... and 2003 ... and...)

Oh, Annie and SJP! I adore you both. Ms. Hathaway, you're someone I've eagerly awaited on the carpet for years, and your style is one I admire in my real life. This time, though ... I like the Armani Prive dress more in photos than I did on TV. I can see that it's more silver than white, and it has some nice pleating. It's just that a column dress disappoints me, and the severe updo/pale face/dark lip look has become fallback makeup for you at the Oscars. (I did enjoy you on stage with Hugh Jackman. Shirley MacLaine is right: You should keep singing.) As for SJP, I know you frequently take style risks and make over-the-top choices. This Dior haute couture dress, though, seemed like a reject from the Sex and the City movie. Oh, Miley? You're much, much too young for a dress than big. It's pretty, but it does weigh more than you.

Another white dress I mostly liked: Taraji P. Henson's (3), by Cavali. She had to keep picking up her train, which I found distracting, but she owned her look. The ruffles were subtle and made the column dress more interesting, she went for one mega piece of bling, and she sported short, shiny, healthy hair. That last part alone made her a carpet standout.

Nothing was worse than Jessica Biel (7), in Prada. "Her face looks tired," I said to my mother when Biel first appeared on screen. "She looks like she rolled out of bed and tied a sheet around her," my mother complained. I couldn't have said it better myself.

Someone who wore white who worked: Mickey Rourke (8). Seriously. At this point, he has a style all his own, as Diane Keaton does, and we might as well accept it. He accessorized his outfit with a sparkly vest, sharp eyewear, and a pendant of his recently deceased dog, Loki, who died six days earlier.

She didn't wear white, but Freida Pinto (15) also disappointed me. Her choices during awards season have been fantastic, and I told my father before the show that I'd been looking forward to her more than just about anyone else on the carpet. The color of the Galliano dress: vibrant. That sleeve, on the other hand: vicious. It reminded me of a heavily tattooed man. This isn't the image one wants to evoke for the most glamorous night on the Hollywood calendar.

Angelina Jolie (1) - another black dress. Ho hum. The Elie Saab was a little less of a sack than usual, but it remainded flowy and drapy and ... By the way, something in her face looks off, and it's distracting. Will she be able to smile and emote in five years?

With Beyonce Knowles (24), a clean, fresh face and a swingy ponytail meet some crazy gold embroidery (although I think it looks more painted on) and an unusual hem. Most people hated it. I don't mind it so much on her because she's Beyonce. Put that on, say, Tomei, and I would have gone screaming to the Cher Hall of Shame.

Kate Winslet (9) looked too severe, and the structured hairstyle was way too distracting: I kept wondering how much gel went into that look. At 33, Winslet is just a year older than I am, but last night I thought she could pass for my aunt rather than my sister. It reminded me of the year Reese Witherspoon won: another woman my age, looking way too old. (Speaking of Witherspoon (43), she didn't walk the carpet, but she was on the telecast. I'm not sure what that neckline was. It made the dress look cheap.)

The reds didn't have it. Heidi Klum (13) in Mouret, also with bordering-on-greasy hair; Amanda Seyfried (23) and a ginormous bow in Valentino; Amy Adams (12) in Carolina Herrera. I liked the shade of red on Adams, but it blended exactly into the red carpet. Not good. I also HATED the necklace. Beer-bottle shards strung together?

So, did I fully embrace anyone? Yes. One person. When I first saw her on the Oscar preshow, I sighed and said, "She looks just lovely." Natalie Portman (10) and your pink Rodarte, thank you. You picked a color no one else did - Alicia Keys' dress, also very nice, is similar but lilac - and you didn't make yourself older than you are. You recognized that you were a presenter, not an attendant or a nominee, so you didn't go over the top. It was just a heavenly concoction.

I Miss Siskel, Too

I remember when Gene Siskel died. It was 10 years ago tomorrow, and I was on my first trip to Hollywood. I was on my then-boyfriend's couch, and we were stunned into silence for a good five minutes.

At the Movies hasn't been the same since, and the current incarnation is just awful. Look, I'm young, too, but I think I'm smarter and more critical than at least one of those hosts.

http://blogs.suntimes.com/ebert/2009/02/i_remember_gene.html

Buttoning Down the Hatches to Write

I can picture parts of a Slumdog Millionaire review, but not a beginning or an end. However, I made myself sit at the computer while doing laundry this afternoon, and somehow a review of The Curious Case of Benjamin Button came to be.

I dragged my feet on seeing this and finally went more than a week after Oscar nominations were announced. I can't remember the last time I hadn't seen all the Best Picture nominees before the reveal of the final five - pathetic for me. I wish the wait had been worth it. I wish I liked Button as much as Sandra, my cousin Tom, and later my parents did. Nope.

I'll say this much: It's the better Brangelina film of 2008.

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button represents a case of grand moviemaking gone curiously stillborn.

About an hour and a half into this Oscar-nominated epic, I wrote, “This is supposed to be a big, great, sweeping, magical film, and yet … this movie is inert.” That I could compose that coherent a sentence while watching this time-traveling drama proves how unengaged I felt. When Cate Blanchett and her Australian counterpart, Tilda Swinton, were on screen, I found Button involving (as long as Blanchett wasn’t slathered in makeup). Otherwise, David Fincher’s direction needed more vigor to keep boredom from pervading my thoughts.

That’s right. This is David Fincher, the same Fincher who made Fight Club and Zodiac. While those films mesmerize and energize, Button is, all too often, sluggish and remote. For every well-shot, suspenseful torpedo tugboat scene, we have dialogue overwhelmed by Alexandre Desplat’s score and Brad Pitt looking as if he’s auditioning for a remake of The Way We Were. We also have a movie where pancake and powder are the order of the day, characters in their own distracting way. “Pretty” usually wins out over “substance” in Button.

The screenwriter of Forrest Gump, Eric Roth, is adapting again, this time his own 1994 movie ... I mean, an F. Scott Fitzgerald story about a man (Pitt) aging backward. (The adaptation is very, very loose.) A babe is born, looking eightysomething, in 1918 New Orleans and abandoned by his father on the steps of an old folks’ home run by a Gone with the Wind-esque mammy (Taraji P. Henson). As time advances, our boy, played by Pitt in various layers of makeup and computer manipulation, becomes physically younger, and he connects with one resident’s granddaughter (Blanchett; Elle Fanning as a child). At points, we break from the flashbacks for wheezy dying sequences in August 2005 in a Southern hospital.

In Gump, history pivoted around Tom Hanks’ character. In Button, the characters aren’t connected to the outside world, minus the badly shoehorned Hurricane Katrina framing. We didn’t need Benjamin to, say, overhear Truman planning the use of the atomic bomb, but Button uses history the way lazy filmmakers employ the Empire State Building as an establishing New York shot. It’s throwaway at best, Symbolism 101 at worst.

Surprisingly, the love story between Benjamin and Daisy captivated this grouchy cynic. “Sleep with me,” she moans when they’re finally in an age-appropriate relationship. “Absolutely,” he replies, eagerly. It’s the sexiest thing People’s two-time Sexiest Man Alive has ever said, and it catapults Button in a way none of the special effects do.

In a long black jersey dress and flowing red hair, ballet dancer Blanchett isn’t the siren one expects but instead a lovely evoker of wistful melancholy. Swinton plays an earlier Benjamin lover, an older, dissatisfied woman whose arc comes to a delightful, quirky conclusion. As for Pitt, it’s hard to say how what he’s doing for much of Button is acting. He’s mostly posing and reacting, often deficient in emotion. Brad, give your nomination to Leo.

Good, Not Great

This was supposed to be the intro to my Slumdog Millionaire review. It became so long I decided it merited its own post. The Slumdog review will appear later Thursday, under separate cover.

I've seen Slumdog Millionaire twice. The first time was day before Thanksgiving, the week after the movie opened in Boston. I liked the structure, and I enjoyed it as a director's movie (which is odd - I'm more a written than visual kind of gal), although even then I remarked to my mother that I found Slumdog slightly overhyped.

Ten weeks later, Slumdog had won just about every award out there, and it seems to be on its way to an Oscar trouncing Sunday. My movie buddy Patricia had yet to see the film; meanwhile, I wondered if I'd missed a sprinkling of the fairy dust that would result in me salivating as much as many other critics.

My second viewing only enforced the feelings I had the first time around.

Will I be OK with the inevitable Slumdog victories Sunday, namely Best Picture? Yeah, I guess. I'm rooting for Danny Boyle to win Best Director. Slumdog is much better than The Reader and the endless inertia known as The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. (That review is coming Friday.) It isn't Frost/Nixon or Milk, though. Patricia's one-word description hits upon many of my Slumdog gripings: "contrived."

Today's Highway-Robbery Reminder

I know I live in the most expensive place around to go to the movies. I know the Regal Cinemas seem to be especially pricey, even having the nerve to charge more for flicks on Fridays and Saturdays. Unlike the AMC chain, Regal doesn't offer a delightful $6-before-noon special on weekends. Still, I don't think I realized how absurd New York prices are until just now, as I was editing Regal Entertainment's earnings in my real-world job.

Please see the chart below. Note the bolded section:
Operating Data Quarter Ended
Jan. 1, Dec. 27
2009 2007
Theatres at period end 552 527
Screens at period end 6,801 6,388
Average screens 12.3 12.1
per theatre
Attendance 61,756 53,320
(in thousands)
Average ticket price $ 7.75 $ 7.58
Average concessions $ 3.13 $ 2.97
per patron

Excuse me: The average ticket price across Regal is $7.75? What??? In New York City, it costs almost $13 for a regular ticket! Where is it significantly less than $13 to give us this $7.75 average? And the average concession per patron is $3.13? I'm not kidding: I'm not even sure I can find anything for less than $3.13 at the Battery Park or Times Square concession stands!

Back to work and mulling a Slumdog Millionaire review ...