pullquote

I enjoy being a girl

This NYT item made me laugh.

...in the name of female empowerment and ambitious brand extension, Glamour is trying to make its mark in the movie business. In October, the magazine will revive its "Reel Moments" series of short films based on true stories from readers, this time with three films directed by Hollywood celebrities like Jennifer Aniston and Bryce Dallas Howard.

<snip>

The project makes Glamour the latest magazine to promote itself aggressively beyond its print incarnation. "We have to understand that Glamour is first and foremost a magazine, but we're also a brand, a brand that competes in a very competitive marketplace," said Bill Wackermann, the vice president and publisher of Glamour, which is published by Condé Nast. The company is doing "anything we can do that will bring our magazine to life," he said.

Anything? Might I suggest... brains?!?!

OK, enough zombie jokes. But that must have been some meeting when Glamour's execs brainstormed how to swipe The Devil Wears Prada crowd from rival Vogue. We all know how the Anne Hathaway fans turn out for earnest short films. Yada yada, sisterhood is powerful. Be "reel." This is all about the almighty ad rate.

Here's my favorite part:

The project also satisfied [Jennifer Aniston's] urge to correct what she called “a big beef” — the small number of female directors working in Hollywood. "I'm not like a bleeding heart feminist or a bleeding heart anything," Ms. Aniston said. "But I think I like women. I support women."

"I think I like women?" Well, the cinetrix for one fucking hates women who preface declarative statements with qualifying "I think"s and say they're not feminists. Also, you can totally tell there should be an ellipsis, not a period, at the end, where Aniston goes on to say, "Except for that slut who stole my husband."

Women beware women, indeed.

Everyone's gone to the movies

Here's some fun film flotsam from the Interweb while the cinetrix recovers from last night's zombie-style meal [seriously: cod cheeks, fromage du tete, tongue, and more brains!!!] here.

Sasha Frere-Jones asks the tough questions:

• Does the reign of Bush II have something to do with the rise in Oedipal adventure movies?
• Is Orlando Bloom just Keanu Reeves for the Merchant Ivory set?
• How do you cast a young starlet as yourself?

He's right that Scoop looks like it took three days to shoot, but the cinetrix found what SFJ calls its "flimsiness" excruciating rather than enjoyable, McShane or no McShane.

Haverchuk submits to You Tube's power and catalogues some online cinematic time sucks [via]:

• David Lynch with mesmerizing body language. "I'm looking for a certain kind of fish to translate into cinema." In context it makes more sense, but out of context it sounds more Lynchian.
• Russ Meyer.  "Her breasts were so huge..."
• Errol Morris identifies with the topiary artist in his film Fast, Cheap and Out of Control. This clip makes you realize how important style is even in something as seemingly plain as the talking-heads documentary. If Morris himself had shot this clip it would a thousand times more interesting.

  <snip>

  For comparison's sake, here is Morris's tribute to the movies from the 2002 Oscars. Lots of famous faces here. I count two chefs, Rocco and Alice. She says, "Movies are like food. They're essential to your life." Lots of faces I recognize but without being able to match them to a name. I caught Susan Sontag, Donald Trump, Laura Bush, Philip Glass, and a bunch of others.

Bon appetit!

Living culture

Last night the cinetrix got together with her pal of long standing, ms. jmac, proprietress of the Invisible Cinema, for "a screening program of short moving image works addressing the impact of genetics and biotechnology on art"  at Eyebeam.

As is generally the case when there are several artists' work presented together, I liked some pieces more than others. Mostly, though, I kept catching myself wondering the same thing for each one. How do you decide on the appropriate music for your nonnarrative work?

I'm serious. There's a tendency to go all Philip Glassy [or in one instance, Christian Fennesz], it seems, but would it be truly perverse [or simply cost-prohibitive] to use a pop song?

A schooner is a sailboat

Noticed something oh-so droll as I was staggering and sweating around Manhattan yesterday. See if you pick up on it, too:

ANGELIKA:  FILMS SHOWING 07/28 – 08/03/06:
18 West Houston Street, New York, New York 10012
Advance tickets at www.moviefone.com or 212-777-FILM (Angelika Express 
Code #531)

CLERKS II

"Hilarious & Shocking. A huge summer hit." - Roger Friedman, Fox-News

Official Selection – Cannes 2006

The sequel to director Kevin Smith’s 1994 indie classic, “Clerks 2” 
stars Rosario Dawson, Dante Hicks (Brian O’Halloran) and Randall Graves 
(Jeff Anderson) who return as thirty-something slacker employees who are 
barely working and getting paid for it.  When the New Jersey mini-mart 
that had become their livelihood closes down, Dante and Randall must 
bring their rapid-fire one-liners, bad attitudes and unbridled love of 
fun at the customer’s expense to their new minimum wage job at Mooby’s 
Burger House.  But when Dante announces that he's going to leave Jersey 
forever and marry Emma Bunting (Jennifer Schwalbach Smith), his 
co-workers plan one last send-off that quickly goes awry.  Features cameo 
appearance from Jay and Silent Bob (Jason Mewes and Kevin Smith) and Ben 
Affleck.  (R; 102 min)

Fri 07/28/06 ...till... Sat 07/29/06 : 10:55 AM, 11:30, 1:20, 2:00, 
3:40, 4:20, 6:00, 7:00, 8:20, 9:20, 10:30, 11:30, 12:35
Sun 07/30/06 ...till... Thu 08/03/06 : 10:55 AM, 11:30, 1:20, 2:00, 
3:40, 4:20, 6:00, 7:00, 8:20, 9:20, 10:30

What's so funny? Submit your guesses in the comments.

Fit but you know it

Erstwhile Streets tourmate Lady Sovereign spotted by cinetrix outside The Spotted Pig.

Exclusive. Must Credit Cinetrix.

Right, then. True story. Midway through a delightful graze of everything from shoestring fries to sardines [thanks, Gabe], your pal stepped outside the gastropub in question and somehow managed to ID the lovely and delightful Miss Louise. 'Course, at the time, I couldn't recall her given, and she declined to give it, offering instead, "Call me 'Sov.'" Indeed.

So, cineastes with crowd skills and a fondness for hip-hop/grime, consider sidling over to Central Park this Sunday, where Lady S will be throwing down alongside Jean Grae and muthafuckin Pete Rock. Because even movie geeks need to take the air.

Anyways, yeah... let's commence.

The lady of situations

Has it really been a week? What a slacker I've become.

Anyhoo, Cinephiliac very kindly invited me to ride shotgun at a press screening of Scoop yesterday, about which [the movie, that is], more later.

Maybe.

[If you must know, it was a pretty bumpy ride, except for when an uncredited Fenella Woolgar turned up, but, as usual, she's not on screen for nearly long enough.]

Mostly I wanted to share this observation with the rest of the class:

Tragedy is watching an unfunny Woody Allen movie starring a miscast Scarlett Johansson.
Comedy is treading on Joel Siegel's toes on my way out

Split screen

The cinetrix spent the day catching up with the latest issue of Film Comment [the mail's being forwarded this summer; it's like living in the lake house, I guess].

In the editor's letter, ol' Gavin makes nice+ with us mouthbreathers on the Internerd*:

... I tend to think that blogs are more important to people who want to write than they are to people who like to read; that they are long on opinions and short on ideas and insights. The speed with which people can write and post is exciting,** but isn't conducive to more considered, reflective viewpoints. As exponents of the DIY philosophy, bloggers, just like writers in other media, would nevertheless benefit from a little editing (but then, as an editor, I would say that, wouldn't I?).

But if the hotbeds of online cinephilia are, to paraphrase Lester Bangs, oftentimes a space where people who can't write chase the attention of people who can't read, they are also a vital training ground for developing writers. Talent will out. There's no reason why today's bloggers can't be tomorrow's professional film critics and journalists. (Some of them already are, sort of: Dave Poland and Harry Knowles*** may not possess the most scintillating critical minds, but apparently they have become indispensible.) Sure, some blogs are conduits for diaristic solipsism, trivial buzz, and endless smackdowns, but the best are about community building, engaged debate, and promoting a genuinely discursive approach to criticism--and the overall result is a tremendous vitality. Moreover, as general-interest newspapers and magazines dumb down and ditch knowledgeable film critics in their quest for the next Anthony Lane,**** the online world has been and will continue to be a haven for migrating print writers who haven't run out of things to say--as Dave Kehr's thriving website***** attests.

Donald Wilson repeats the refrain several pages in, as part of a piece on w[h]ither foreign-language film distribution:

...It doesn't help that web criticism is largely dominated by yobbos who actively position themselves as anti-intellectual regular joes (cf. www.filmcritic.com), but efforts should be made to court and reward the quality****** writers plying their trade online.

So, Film Comment is suggesting that foreign film distributors should maybe throw themselves at film bloggers "quality writers plying their trade online" the same shameless way publishers have sucked up to litbloggers? "Screeners for all my friends"? Of course, then print guys like Paul will just go and do something venal and scare 'em all off. Again.

+And, to be fair, has always been nice to me in our limited contact.
*The temptation is incredibly great to live link this thing six ways to Sunday. Oh, hell, why not? I'm going to try and behave, but you should feel free to get loose in the comments.
**Dude, "as an editor," I gotta say you should know better than to throw a comma before a conjunction introducing a clause that can't stand on its own. Someone running a little behind with the Editor's Letter this month?
***That old thing?
****Mrow!
*****Just call it a fucking blog, already.
******As in tradition of quality? L'internet de Papa?

Pilgrim's Progress

The Fesser and the cinetrix often joke about their big collaborative project--something about American filmmaking in the 17th century, natch. But then the Boston Globe's Local Action column came through with news of an event we can both get behind: the second annual Plymouth Independent Film Festival.

There will be free screenings of Casablanca and Raiders of the Lost Ark at the Plymouth waterfront on Friday and Saturday, respectively. Sounds better than trying to get across the Bourne Bridge for some Cape action, if you ask me.

Also, they'll be honoring Ricky Leacock, and a whole posse of direct cinema eminences grises will be with him--Maysles, Drew, you know the drill.

But it gets better:

Many of the festival's events and screenings will be held at the Plimoth Plantation.

Seriously. How sweet is that? The cinetrix can hear it now: "Yo, Alden, down in front! And take off that hat"

She tried to sit in my lap while I was standing up.

Angelenos, it's that time again! Apologies for the last-minute reminder.

CINESPIA Presents:

THE BIG SLEEP

Directed by Howard Hawks
Saturday, July 15th
Gates at 7:30 pm Film at 9:00 pm
Hollywood Forever Cemetery
6000 Santa Monica Boulevard at Gower
No reservation necessary.
$10 donation. Tickets available at gate.
As a courtesy to other movie-goers: NO TALL CHAIRS

The textbook the cinetrix works with does a nice job of explaining the 180-degree rule using this sequence, where Marlowe meets with General Sternwood in the greenhouse. Of course, it means the following dialogue rabbits around my brain the whole time:

You're looking, sir, at a very dull survival of a very gaudy life: crippled, paralyzed in both legs,  I barely eat and my sleep is so near waking it's hardly worth a name. I seem to exist largely on heat like a newborn spider.

Which then leads me, naturally, to the wisdom of Ren: "You know what the Big Sleep is, Stimpy. It's death." Owen Taylor would agree.

It's not the heat...

For those of you whose offices don't observe summer hours, a little midafternoon mean-spiritedness. Here goes:

The NYT should just subcontract the Movie Minute video feature to shiny-pated Stephen during the summer months. Seriously, Tony's hair could double as a Manhattan humidity index.

Happy weekend, kids.