Category Archives: Entertainment

Emmys 2011: Some thoughts

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Kyle Chandler. That’s all I keep thinking about when I remember last night’s Emmys. The good guys finally won. Our full hearts and clear eyes finally found some Emmy voters who agreed with not only Kyle Chandler as Best Actor in a Drama, but also the series finale, “Always” as Best Writing in a Drama.

That image, of Kyle Chandler (truly not expecting to win), and the favorite, Jon Hamm truly looking stunned he didn’t, keeps staying with me.

That, and the Best Actress in a Comedy beauty contest pageant lineup (dreamed up by Amy Poehler and Martha Plimpton) that ended up with long-overdue winner (for Gilmore Girls, not just Mike & Molly) Melissa McCarthy ending up with a tiara on her head, and roses in her hands, in addition to an Emmy.

Melissa McCarthy with a tiara. Kyle Chandler, nearly speechless. The good guys winning. That’s what this Emmys brought.

Many of my predictions (Peter Dinklage for Game of Thrones Best Supporting Actor, Drama; Julianna Margulies for Best Actress, Drama; Ty Burrell for Best Supporting Actor, Comedy) seemed easy to me, and came true (I had a 16-9 record). But it was the ones I thought were too good to actually happen that did.

Kyle Chandler, Melissa McCarthy. I had actually predicted “Always” to win Writing, but I thought it too sweet, too perfect to happen. Like Martin Scorcese, winning for Direction in Drama for Boardwalk Empire. It seemed like it must happen, I predicted it, but it seemed so far outside what everyone else was predicting.

I was wrong about Julie Bowen, though I was right about most of the rest of the Modern Family cavalcade. Both Jane Lynch and Julie Bowen triumphed thru being submitted on their competitors’ tapes this year. I’m really glad it was Bowen who pulled it out.

And when Peter Dinklage got up there (the common wisdom varied, usually centering on either John Slattery or Josh Charles), taking a statue for the Lannisters, all felt right with the world. So, too, when Margo Martindale (whom I also had predicted) got to the stage. It was like there was a collective “Awwww” heard all through Hollywood. Here was a working actress who had been one of those “jobbers” who’s constantly working in series after series, being recognized for what a great actress she actually is.

That was the tenor and the fabric of this year’s Emmys. No glossy winners who didn’t deserve it. Jeff Probst had won again at the Creative Arts Emmys last week (so very deserving). The Daily Show, deservedly, collected its stash of trophies. (So very deserving.) Kate Winslet and Guy Pearce, who made Mildred Pierce come alive, picked up theirs.

Stately Downtown Abbey won its share, including for Maggie Smith.

In fact, I can’t think of one winner where I thought, Oh, that’s so wrong, that person/show didn’t deserve it. And, for me, the ones I missed I credit to the fact that I hadn’t yet watched their tapes (Jim Parsons for Best Actor, Comedy; although everyone else was predicting Steve Carrell, anyway).

Let me speak to that for a moment. People who predict Emmys (for a living, even) often choose based on who is “due” or who seems to be hot at the moment. I believe firmly that the driving factor in choice is the tape in front of that Emmy voter, compared against the next tape. Perhaps, if, for example, Martha Plimpton and Melissa McCarthy both had brilliant and funny tapes, and a voter can’t decide, they will go to “Oh yeah, she’s been working in the industry for so long, she deserves it,” or “I loved her in Bridesmaids, so I’m going to pick her.” Perhaps it works like that. With the tape being 85% of the decision, and all things being equal, other factors being added in after that point.

Others, including big Emmy gurus, predict people like Steve Carrell because of the sentimentality, the picture they’d like to paint, that “well, it’s his last year on The Office,” of course people are finally going to give it to him.” I don’t think that factors in at all. (Or within 10-15%, at most.) I erred in my prognostications this year because I bought into the hype, thinking that Betty White, back together with Mary Tyler Moore in her tape, would be Emmy catnip.

Really, what counted was that in both Jane Lynch’s case and Julie Bowen’s case, they were on TWO tapes that Emmy voters watched. And since Lynch won last year, it was a simple choice.

I use these factors to make my Emmy prognostication better next time around.

But until then, go seek out Friday Night Lights, if you haven’t already. Cause you know: Clear eyes, Full hearts can’t lose. Congrats to all.

Updates, updates, we have updates!

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Man, it’s like they let me out of the cage or something! Updating everything.

Soon, I will have some TV reviews, some podcast reviews and maybe even some Oscar movie reviews posted. Gimme some time, would ya?

(Always seemed strange to have a blog about Hollywood, with a picture of NY.) Maybe I’ll get one of my own pics in there soon…

Somewhere Drives Angst in Circles

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As a filmmaker, I have been entranced by Sofia Coppola. “Lost in Translation” was one of my favorite movies, not only for the way it captured the beauty of Tokyo, but also for the many ways it indicated people having a hard time communicating with each other. I was even one of the few who enjoyed the decadence of “Marie Antoinette.” It seemed to say a lot of things about the French queen and indie music at the same time. Plus, it was also visually stunning.

I should have been forewarned about “Somewhere.” The opening shot is someone (unclear who) driving a fancy expensive car, basically in circles. Very fast. For like ten minutes. I should have walked out at that moment. Cause that pretty much is the movie, right there.

The rest of it is this: Handsome superstar action hero actor bunks up at Hollywood’s Chateau Marmont, and you see his decadent life. How naked women parade in and out of his life, through the hallways sometimes. They appear to amuse him, dancing nakedly, while he mostly falls asleep. They appear to have sexual trysts with him. Then disappear. It’s an endless parade.

All of this is well and good, until suddenly his daughter appears to stay with him. Puts a bit of a crimp in his plans. So now he plays Wii and hangs by the pool and orders pizza. And wow. Isn’t this fun?

Then, they take a jaunt to Venice for a movie premiere where luscious Italian beauties also thrust themselves at him. They hang out at an Italian pool.

He comes back. Some friends come over. They leave.

This is basically the movie.

Oh poor overpaid baby. Have to suffer with Chateau Marmont’s room service. His daughter gets industrious and actually makes food in his kitchen. (I did enjoy Elle Fanning as his daughter.) Stephen Dorff is the actor.

Maybe I’m jaded because I see too many people living variations of this in Hollywood, or aspiring to variations of this. Maybe I’m bored with a movie about nothing. We get it. Everyone is alienated from each other, and boo hoo, celebrities most of all.

The big revelation of the movie, yes, I’m going to SPOIL it for you now, such as it is: at the end of the movie, he decides to move out of the Chateau Marmont. He drives his car. Somewhere. And leaves it. And starts walking.

I guess supposed to symbolize this man actually taking a stand and doing something with his life. In reality, like the rest of the movie, it just emphasizes how bored and stupid and superfluous his actions are.

Sorry, Sofia, this one bored me to tears.

Barney is So Self-Indulgent

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For the first half hour of “Barney’s Version,” I wanted to walk out. I found it extremely unfunny, irritating, obnoxious and a waste of my time. Part of the problem for this is that the descriptions of this movie fall in the nebulous category, where publicists don’t know what the heck to write about it. “Barney’s cranky, and this is his life,” is about as far as they’d get.

And indeed, there’s Paul Giamatti, irrascible, puffing cigars and drinking booze from the first frame. Making crank calls to his ex-wife at 3 am. Fun stuff. Why the HELL do I want to get involved in this schmuck’s life, one asks?

Here’s why. To me, it’s the story of TRUE LOVE. How true love hits someone and doesn’t let go. And how, even when you have true love, you might just mess it up. That’s what makes it worth seeing.

Barney’s first marriage happens when his bride becomes pregnant. He does the honorable thing, and marries her. Then finds out it wasn’t even his kid. That one doesn’t end so well.

His dad (Dustin Hoffman) sets him up with his next lovely lady. And Minnie Driver is indeed lovely. And rich. What’s not to like? Well, the incessant talking, perhaps…

So, there he is, at his second wedding, surrounded by many of her relatives, everyone getting smashingly drunk. Barney most of all, pounding back the shots. When suddenly through his drunken stupor, he looks across the room and sees her. Not his freshly-minted wife. His true love. And it hits him like an oncoming train.

He ventures closer and starts talking to her. She sees he is drunk. But they do hit it off. He abruptly leaves his own wedding to chase her to the train heading back to New York. And so it begins.

So there was the reason that made me sit in my seat for the rest of the movie, and be rewarded. How can this schlub of a man find true love with such a beautiful woman? But there it is, clear as day.

The film is based on the writings of Mordecai Richler. The film is dedicated to him.

It is packed with a cast of many stunning acting talents. Scott Speedman, for example, looks like sunshine made real as the charming playboy in Italy.

But the revelation, not surprisingly, since she’s been the revelation of several movies of late (Made in Dagenham notably this season, and An Education last) is Rosamund Pike. She is gorgeous, refined, wonderful as a counterpoint to Barney.

It’s sad and kind of tragic that Barney chose to live his life the way he wanted to: drinking, smoking big cigars and watching hockey games with the boys at the local bar. The love of his life chose to grow and evolve. But it’s very interesting to see how all these pieces fall into place.

So trust me. The beginning may be annoying, but all in all, Barney’s Version is a good ride through someone’s life. I really do wanna see “Miriam’s Version” next, though.

Love and Other Drugs Goes Cold Turkey

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Amid the crush of holiday releases and Oscar hopefuls, there are many many great pictures out right now. “Love and Other Drugs” is not one of them. The more I think about it, the more it bugs me.

Jake Gyllenhaal plays a brash handsome manipulator who beds women, uses them, spits them out (the usual). Anne Hathaway plays someone who’s seen it all. She’s been on the receiving end of such men, and as such, she’s hardened, crass, cynical, guarded.

Both of these characters, for reasons described, are annoying and not fun to watch. He’s thinking of ways to use people (easier, better, faster). She’s thinking of witty comebacks to cut them down to size. Did I mention that this is not fun? This, despite the fact that both of them get naked a lot. Really. It’s boring.

Who can he bed to sell his products? How can she avoid commitment? Wackiness ensues. No, not really. Boredom ensues.

SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER

The supposed serious part of this is the increase in pharmacological assistance through depression drugs like Zoloft and Prozac, the salesmen who hawk them, and it all comes complete with a splashy song and dance number. And when Gyllenhaal’s company (Pfizer) comes out with Viagara… well, you can imagine what that does to Lothario’s drug sales.

The wrench in all this is that Hathaway has Parkinson’s disease (note shaky hand a couple of times). This is why she knows all the drug salesmen. And comes the speech: “You’re not gonna love me cause I have a disease!” (*pouts* *stomps feet*) She’s way too self-deprecating in this movie. Mean to herself and others.

He has received a horror story of the progression of the disease from someone at a conference, so suddenly it’s “Nope, I’m shallow. I don’t love you. Bye.”

Blech. At this point, who cares? She’s shrill, pouty and annoying. He’s still glib, uses sex to get his way. Who cares?

The fact that anyone anywhere mentions this dreadful movie in the context of Oscars is sad. No one in this movie (though I do love director Edward Zwick and actor Oliver Platt, but seriously…) deserves anything that has the word Oscar attached to it.

Really hated it. Don’t waste your time. Many other great movies out there instead.

Creative fever dream Swans into Best Picture

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Reviewers who write about movies for a living, who have to slog through every paint-by-numbers adaptation, seem to have difficulty with two things: spirituality in movies, and the creative process in movies. Mind you, there aren’t that many movies about either of those two things because they are also ephemeral streaks of lightning to capture in the film bottle.

What I had read about “Black Swan” prior to seeing it fluctuated on the spectrum from horror flick to Grand Guignol theatre to thriller to scary movie. In short, I really didn’t know what to expect. Perhaps it will be one or some of those things to you, too.

How I perceived “Black Swan” was more like a dream. The dream, the central focus for this ballerina, is to be perfect. And she studies and she plies and she does everything she thinks she’s supposed to do.

But when the company leader decides to do “Swan Lake,” he presents her with this challenge: “You’d be great as the White Swan.” But, essentially, she doesn’t have enough of a dark side to do the Black Swan justice. (This lead character in the ballet performs both sides of a complex persona.)

“Black Swan,” then, is about this striving-for-perfection ballerina figuring out what it takes to reach her own “dark side.” What she discovers is that passion and the thrill of life often lie in its imperfections. As we travel with her on her journey, we also discover what is at the heart of the creative process, how far someone can push themselves for their art.

It is a stunning bravura performance. Prior to seeing the film, I posited on my podcast that Natalie Portman was going to take every award in sight this Oscar season. I think so even moreso after seeing the film. Like Christoph Waltz and Mo’Nique last year, every other Best Actress contender this year can just sit down. It’s Natalie Portman’s year. Her work in this movie is stunning. In fact, I can’t remember the last time an actress was so stunning and superb and affecting. Brilliant work.

Her supporting cast is also affecting and may glean some supporting nominations: Vincent Cassel as the ballet company director, Barbara Hershey as her mom, Mila Kunis as a fellow dancer. Winona Ryder takes an especially inspired turn, making a droll commentary on her own life, that elicited laughs in our industry screening.

People have also made reference to an “All About Eve” subtext. That is only there in as much as fearing other people taking roles you covet is part of the creative process. It’s really and truly not about that.

In fact, I think where reviewers get into trouble with this role, and even the screening I saw this at, the questioner had the same problem–is dissecting it too much. Think of it as a dream. Roll around with the images, go with the flights of fancy. True creativity isn’t that far from the dream state, and true creativity borders on that part of the brain near psychosis too. But don’t let that analysis hinder you.

As Nina had to learn, with sex, with dreaming, with life, sometimes you just have to let it flow over you and become part of you. So, too, with “Black Swan.”

Made in Dagenham: Let’s hear it for the women!

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Sometimes, with all the demonizing hate-filled Republican propaganda that fills our airwaves, sometimes one wonders why it is again that unions are relevant. They have been portrayed as terrible things that are ruining our lives. (Just don’t look at the big corporations that are pulling the strings to make those statements…)

How far have we gotten from the struggles for the 40-hour week? Or the hard-fought-for half hour lunches and ten-minute breaks, legal by law, yet in this new corporate world where everyone is doing five people’s jobs, hardly still maintained. Does anyone even remember that it was the unions that fought for these things? For these rights for us working stiffs?

Or has this bad word “socialism” (since that other trumped-up bad word, “communism” doesn’t really work anymore, appearing hopelessly dated) really colored everything for so many? So many who voted their corporate keepers back into power, though they decried the influence of the big bad banks? Just makes ya sick, sometimes.

Well, here’s an antidote to the corporate-cash big money Tea Party election we just stomached. Here’s a pleasant reminder of exactly what unions can do, and why we need them so, in these crazy times. “Made in Dagenham” takes place in England, in the mid-60s. It’s a true story.

Sallie Hawkins, a sure Oscar contender, is one of the strike leaders. Miranda Richardson has a noble turn herself. (Both were in attendance at the AFI screening.) This film is easily one of my favorites of the year.

Women, working at a Ford plant as machinists, start out the movie wanting to be the same pay grade as men, to be classed as “skilled,” rather than “unskilled.” Simple enough. Fair enough.

They encounter many obstacles along the way, not the least of which is that they aren’t taken seriously because they are “just women,” after all. We won’t even talk about the other shop violations which they don’t even talk about in the movie: the water pouring down on the workplace, the fact that many women work in their bras because it’s too hot in the shop (those rights are things American workers fought for, and are still enforced).

But the big battle for the women ultimately becomes: “Equal pay for equal work.” That is what they fight for. Don’t wanna spoil the movie. I’ll just say that it had a positive ending in Britain, and many other countries because of the women of Dagenham.

It made me uncomfortably squeamish, though, to realize that here in America in 2010, women still make only 74% of what men make for the same job. Oh yeah. That’s why we need those “socialist” unions. I remember now.