Memo to Tony Scott: Quit fidgeting!
Today the cinetrix discovered to her delight [and doubtless Elvis Mitchell's chagrin] that the Times' online Movies section has added a new multimedia feature, Movie Minutes. So far, there are only three of these brief, hyperedited reviews, for the new Harry Potter, The Day After Tomorrow, and The Five Obstructions. Click on the titles to see them for yourself.
So, what can we learn about chief Times film critic A.O. Scott from his screen presence [a term the cinetrix uses advisedly]? Well, looks-wise he inhabits the middle ground of a narrow spectrum between Ira Glass and, say, Globe Ideas columnist Joshua Glenn. He owns several dark blue oxford shirts. He can't read his own prose from a teleprompter for shit. And, as I may have mentioned, he fidgets like he has ants in his pants.
If the Paper of Record plans on keeping this up, it may consider asking Errol Morris if it can borrow his Interrotron. Whomever is charged with the thankless task of directing these microsegments at least realized by the most recent [for Potter] that maybe it might make Scott seem more, I dunno, trustworthy if he was shot facing the camera head-on, rather than in the three-quarter profile used in the first two segments. Still, Scott on screen makes me nervous the way those kids in Spellbound did. Like a psychotic break or a fainting spell might lurk around any corner. [Meanwhile, elsewhere at 229 W. 43rd, Dave Kehr is cooing, "Mister DeMille..." at his reflection in the mirror as he primps.]
His audio work is fine, don't get me wrong. Scott sounds as smooth as a late-night dusties or jazz DJ in the audio slideshow overview of Cannes attached to this article. But he just ain't ready for prime time.
Oh, and he talks with his hands.
