pullquote

I know what girls like

Elvis Mitchell drops some tired science in the Times today:

[T]he more chances women get, the bigger an onscreen world we enjoy.

Did you know that 2003 was a strong year for women as directors? That ladies run Columbia and Paramount? That only two women have ever been nominated for Best Director Oscars?

I could go on. Or you could read the depressing trend piece yourself here while the 'Fesser and I make the scene with our kind hosts' pooches at the Silver Lake dog park.

Horse Sense and Sensibility

On our flight out, we saw Seabiscuit. I'm a fan of accidental and situational film--you know, when movies just happen to you as you move through space and time--but airlines get to serve the top-shelf stuff instead of the house swill I'm accustomed to getting on a bus trip.

A few quick observations:

Toasting the future is a sure-fire way to usher in the Great Depression.

No good comes to Jeff Bridges when the telephone rings.

One day, Chris Cooper may just worry his lower lip right off.

But will it win Oscars? Of course. Hollywood loves a good horse story. Me, I can't wait to see Pirates of the Caribbean again on the return flight. Johnny Depp as a drunk, effeminate Keith Richards? Yes, please!

Jack Sparrow: I think we've all arrived at a very special place... spiritually... ecumenically... grammatically.

'Dude, Where's My Reliable Symbolic Order?': Gross-Out Comedies and the Rewriting of the Expressible

Maud very thoughtfully linked to the Chronicle of Higher Education's annual round-up article about the Modern Language Association's conference, aka "the happiest place I know."

Easy for her. The cinetrix has been living it for the last four days, here in beautiful San Diego--which as far as I can tell is the pedicab capital of the Western world. I've laughed, I've cried, I even heard the paper given the Award for Best Slavoj Zizek Knockoff [the title is also the title of this post, and the other paper on the panel was one of the funniest I've ever heard].

I promise plenty of bile recollected in repose, but first the 'Fesser and I need to track down some fish tacos. So, more about the professor whose paper was about The Three Lives of Thomasina--no, really-- later.

He's Not Looking For Trouble... He's Wearing It.

I tell ya, those kids at Maxim Goes to the Movies are doing bang-up work. Did you know that Jackie Chan had blepharoplasty surgery on his eyelids in 1976 to make him look more "Western"?

[For context, Jennifer Love Hewitt, his costar in The Tuxedo, was born in 1979.]

Collect 'em all

Thanks to the good folks at Maxim Goes to the Movies [don't laugh--airport reading selections mean never having to say you're sorry], I have discovered a whole new way to be a movie geek, and you should, too. They're called Kubricks, tiny Japanese Lego-like figures from your fave cult film. Find them here.

The cinetrix never really got into action figures in their first flush, about a year after the release of Star Wars [when Lucasfilm made the way clear for subsequent, more mediocre movies to still break even through merch tie-ins and tie fighters]. Remember getting coupons for new Star Wars figures because supply couldn't keep up with demand? I only ever had one--Princess Leia in her boss white cape, and I lost her gun the first day. Tragic, eh? I don't think I ever really got over that.

Under the tree

After shameless hinting and much admiration of OGIC's copy, the cinetrix received from the 'Fesser The New Biographical Dictionary of Film by David Thomson.

Time is short, so I'll just leave you with a morsel, from the Ben Affleck entry:

...I have heard not one word ...from anyone, come to that, to dispute my other view that Mr. Affleck is boring, complacent, and criminally lucky to have gotten away with everything so far. If there was any doubt in my mind it was settled by the mere presence--and it wasn't anything more than mere--of Affleck in the travesty called Pearl Harbor.

It's not some pilgrim who's seen the light. It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah

Lo, they did rejoice
Fine and pure of voice
And the wrong shall fail
And the right prevail

During our drive up to Vermont last night, the 'Fesser wondered why Big Star's "Jesus Christ" wasn't a Christmas standard. I told him that America only had room for one holiday-themed work of art that encouraged suicidal ideation, and, well, Frank Capra got there first.

Coming attraction: an uplifting tale for the holidays, I promise.

Strictly business, nothing personal

The cinetrix subscribes to an earnest and geeky academic film list-serv. Usually she deletes its emails with nary a second glance. Then this keeper--which hits a little too close to both vocation and avocation--came over the transom:

Here-in-China, I'm using Film for English training and consciousness-raising. For our Managers English training, I'm seeking films which can expand the self-justifying tautology: "Business is business."

We just had 40 people practicing the Wall Street Douglas "Greed" speech.[emphasis added]

Now I seek suggestions for positive corporate role models, along the lines of:
*Scrooge transformation
*"It's a Wonderful Life"
*Warren Beatty "Heaven Can Wait"

Can you imagine walking in on this exercise? And I won't even get into how much I enjoy the hyphenated "Here-in-China."

MIA on DVD

My first Netflix selections are scheduled to arrive tomorrow [imagine the cinetrix rubbing her hands together in glee like Mr. Burns], but already I've been frustrated to discover that some films I wanted to add to my queque are not available on DVD. How will I ever achieve my dream of becoming a shut-in? A recent Times article explains why this is.

SOMETIMES films are not on DVD for less Byzantine reasons. Older films especially are often in poor condition. The negative has deteriorated, if not vanished; existing prints are scratched or worse. Repairing the damage, and finding the best film and archival materials for bonus extras take much time and money.

A few years ago, only specialty houses like the boutique Criterion Collection bothered with the effort. Now many big studios are following its example.

Of course, even when films are available, it's still a case of caveat emptor, as this hiLARious Onion article reports:

"Tyler's got very specific tastes," Bernie said. "He told us he likes those foreign films. What did he call it? The Criterion Collection. Well, Hannah and I tried to find those, but they didn't have them at Target."

Say it with me: "Fucking bullshit aspect ratio!" And happy last-minute shopping.

UPDATE: Those Masters of Cinema surveyed an eclectic list of folks for their own most-wanted MIA on DVD titles. Read them here while shaking your head slowly from side to side and shrugging helplessly [think early Woody Allen]. And could someone tell Robin Wood that Bonjour Tristesse is available on DVD in the States? Thanks.

I enjoy being a girl: Freaky Friday

Announcements of award nominees make the cinetrix a little cranky. They remind her of the stuff she's scrupulously avoided as well as films she's tragically overlooked. Also, the arbitrariness of taxonomies gets me: Bill Murray nominated for the Golden Globe for Best Actor [yes, yes] in a Comedy or Musical [the hell?] for Lost in Translation [maybe it's a musical]? Ohhhh, I get it. He's Bill Murray. Ergo, funny. I think this bit from his movie Quick Change pretty much captures his performance in Coppola's sad little film:

Bank Guard: What the hell kind of clown are you?
Grimm: The crying on the inside kind, I guess.

Also, awards season means--generally--that I have to look at Jack Nicholson's smug mug some more. Surely the man has enough fucking awards by now, people.

See what I mean? Cranky.

That out of the way, the cinetrix would like to declare her unequivocal support for Jamie Lee Curtis as Best Actress in a Comedy or Musical for her work in Freaky Friday. Who cares if she's biologically a man? Ably directed by Mark S. Waters [The House of Yes, Mean Girls] to giddy comedic heights, Curtis just doesn't care that she's now being cast as the mom, not the ingenue. No collagen, no lifts, no botullism, no Vaseline on the lens. Just flat-out funny, fearless physical comedy.

See for yourself: the reviews were overwhelmingly positive. Once you get past the shame of "I'm watching a 'tween' movie," it's pretty good. [Please be advised, though, that there are some horrible Asian stereotypes of the "ancient Chinese secret" variety.] I saw it in the theatre, and the unrestrained kid belly laughs at Curtis' antics kicked the whole viewing experience into overdrive. [Plus, we all had a little crush on the cute bass player.]

Curtis' nomination was just the excuse I needed to rewatch the original Freaky Friday. For those who haven't seen it [lately], Jodie Foster turns in another of her patented preternaturally adult performances [must be that low, affect-less voice] as the daughter. But it's Barbara Harris, playing the mom, who's a true delight. Watching this beautiful, doe-eyed blonde slide into home plate in a little league game, while wearing a red velour pantsuit, is priceless. She convinces us there's a 13-year-old trapped in her foxy mom's body. [Just maybe not Jodie Foster at 13. A quibble.]

What really struck me, however, is how sexist John Astin is as Foster's dad/Harris' husband. Mary Rodgers wrote the screenplay as well as the book, so I imagine it's pretty much as it originally stood on the page [it's been a while since I last read the book], but, man. What a pig. All Annabelle's adored daddy does in this flick is call his wife with increasingly impossible requests, all at the last minute. Pay attention, girls: Dad's not the understanding good guy--he's distant and oblivious. [Makes you wonder about Rodgers' relationship with her own father, composer Richard Rodgers.] Rodgers was coming off composing for Free to Be You and Me, and it shows.

The 'Fesser wandered through to admire Barbara Harris, at my insistence, and made an interesting point. In the original, it's the mother who's sexy, and in the remake, the daughter is the character getting action. It's true: Jodie Foster, inhabited by her mother, takes herself out for a makeover and a shopping spree, whereas Jamie Lee, inhabited by her daughter, is the one in need of a new look in the remake. It's meant to be funny, but in both cases it does improve her sexual confidence. If only a credit card and a makeover was all it took to develop empathy and self-assurance. Oh, wait! I forgot! It is. See you at Hot Topic.

Sing it with me, "Mommies can be almost anything they wanna beeeee."