In a little town by the sea . . .

Apologies for my absence. I, Adam, destroyer of worlds and recovering slacker, resolve to post much more frequently.

Ah, Cannes, sweet Cannes, the time has come again! Every May, I turn my attention here and here. For the next 12 days, my body will be at work, at home, and about town, but my heart will be in France at the Cannes Film Festival. Sadly, I’ve never been able to attend in person, although one day that’s going to change, and is a fact that you could bet Vegas money on the level of the certainty of death and 5 more celebrity relationships to go south before finishing this lovely read. Strange? I think not.

Out of all of the film festivals I can think of, with the exception of A Pilgrimage, (which remains one of the best ideas in recent memory) Cannes is the one that I look at with the most respect. It serves as a major influence upon my own plans as to which films I resolve to see in the coming year. Quite simply, Cannes plays the types of films I like to watch.

In some ways, the winner of the Palme d’Or could be considered to be a more valid title-holder than the film awarded Best Picture by the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences. Think about it for a moment. The Academy tends to recognize films that are in English and funded/released by a major American studio. Of course, having big names in the cast doesn’t hurt a film’s chances either. On the other hand, the field at Cannes is nothing if not multinational, tends to be much edgier than the Academy’s nominees, and isn’t based nearly so much on sadly misguided notions of hierarchy within the film industry. Think that the Academy’s decision to start nominating 10 films for its top prize is a good one? This year, Cannes is screening 18 films in competition, and I wouldn't dream of trying to handicap the race.

Additionally, the festival allows for a much different type of selection process. Instead of a vote put to a membership of over 6,000 members, the winners at Cannes are decided by a 9 member jury. And what a jury! This year, the jury’s president is Tim Burton and is rounded out by Kate Beckinsale, Giovanna Mezzogiorno, Alberto Barbera, Emmanuel Carrere, Benicio del Toro, Victor Erice, Shekhar Kapur, and Alexandre Desplat.

Think for a minute. If you look at the last couple of films that have won the top prize at Cannes, how many have you seen? How many have you even heard of? If we wanted to dig even deeper, how about the films in competition for the past 5 years? That list contains films from some of the most talented artists at work in film today, and the so-called “mainstream” is largely oblivious to it.

I think I’ll keep puttering around in my little stream, thank you very much.

FotM: Oscar's Dark Side

There are times when I despair of writing about the movies at all. How can you take something that can be so vast and encompass it into a few hundred words of text on a white screen in such a way that someone, anyone, would actually want to read it? I guess I’m still trying to figure that one out. When I read the critics that I enjoy and respect most, there’s a sense of something greater at work. With Roger Ebert, it’s this idea that a movie can show us something about how to live our lives and what makes us more or less human. With Manohla Dargis, it’s this notion of how the movie she’s talking about fits into the scheme of things culturally and within the history of cinema. Peter Travers is kind of like everyone's secret hipster uncle giving it to them straight up, and if you like something he thinks is bad? HOW COULD YOU? Then . . . me. I guess I fit in there somewhere. It seems that, despite all the eloquent deconstruction I want to be good at, I should really just shoot from the hip until I get it right. In the end, all the imitation in the world isn’t going to add up to anything worth reading or worth writing.

Now, Best Picture. . .

I haven’t seen all 82 of the winners of the Academy’s big prize. I’ve only seen 34, which is less than I would like. I could choose one, watch it, and dissect it piece by piece (or, at least, I would like to imagine that I have that kind of dexterity at my disposal), but I don’t think that would be interesting.

Instead, let’s talk about the elephant in Oscar’s bedroom.

Crash.

I didn’t see the film until a few years after it had won the Oscar in dramatic fashion, upsetting Brokeback Mountain, the heavy favorite and winner of almost every other “best film” award this side of kingdom come. It went something like this. I’m at the store looking at the DVDs and I see Crash. I’ve heard that it’s very good, so I start considering the idea of buying it, which is more of a foregone conclusion at that point, because I’m terrible at telling myself no when it comes to something like that. I text a friend to ask his opinion. He suggests renting it instead of buying it, as he’s seen it and knows a bit about what I like. I don’t listen, buy it anyway, and watch it either that night or later that week.

At this point, all I knew was that a lot of people were incensed that Crash had won Best Picture, and others had said that it was an incredible viewing experience. Now, suddenly, I understood.The Oscar is supposed to recognize excellence in filmmaking, and if we’re lucky, what gets that recognition will be of the best work of that particular year. Despite that, Crash was clearly not high-quality filmmaking, not the best work of 2005, and certainly NOT even that good of a movie on its own merits.

I’m not opposed to the idea of film challenging popularly held cultural beliefs and forcing us to see things we recognize within people we don’t know. I actually think that’s one of the highest functions that any art form can fulfill. Some of the best films I’ve ever seen have done just that to spectacular, unforgettable effect.

The trouble with Crash isn’t in the grandiosity of its reach. The problem with the film is in the clumsy, heavy-handed, and simplistic way it goes about doing it. The idea is straightforward. In Los Angeles, there’s a group of ethnically diverse people whose lives are suddenly and violently going to crash together. Along the way, the notion is that the film’s supposed to illustrate the inbred racial prejudices present within all of us.

This concept isn’t exactly brand-new. Robert Altman built a legacy on ensemble casts wandering in and out of each other’s lives. In more recent years, Paul Thomas Anderson has done much the same thing.

On some level, I get what people who dig this movie see in it, but I have a hard time believing that audiences really respond to such amateurish schlock. Despite my (shall we say) distaste for it, there are individual moments within Crash that are effective. The sequence where Matt Dillon pulls Thandie Newton out of a burning car was effective and even gripping. The scene where Anthony Pena comforts his infant daughter is touching. The bit where Don Cheadle buys groceries for his mother, even though she thinks his missing brother is the one doing it, is moving. . . and those are pretty much the only major examples I can think of.

Sadly, much of the rest of the film results in characters talking about how other people from different ethnic backgrounds don’t understand them, witnessing incredibly coincidental incidents that somehow just happen to bring them together, and then realizing that gee, we aren’t so different after all and maybe if we just stopped making assumptions based on race/ethnicity, the world might be a better place.

I could have told you all that, and I wouldn’t have needed an hour and fifty-two minutes to do it.

Paul Haggis, the film’s director and co-writer, certainly isn’t without talent. You’ve heard me wax long-toothed about my out-and-out love for Million Dollar Baby, one of my favorite films, and my admiration for In the Valley of Elah. I just don’t understand how someone who’s capable of such good work turned out something that plays like a film school student’s attempt at a feature film, albeit a student with an A-list cast to work with.

Three more things: First, know I texted my friend back and said, “I wished I’d listened to you.” I bet he loved hearing that. Second, Annie Proulx isn’t the sore loser I thought she was. Third, I sold the DVD as soon as I was able to. Crash is no longer is a part of my collection, thanks be.

A lot people don’t put much stock in what wins an Oscar. Even though I watch the show religiously every year, I have to admit that much of it is a popularity contest with a heavy slant toward films made by Brits or Americans. Despite that, a lot of times, I’m ok, pleased, or even thrilled with what wins.

Not here.

FotM: Adam's vote goes to . . .

Look, I still don’t like the idea of 10 nominees for best picture. I never have, and probably never will. That said, choosing who I would vote for if I were a member of the Academy was surprisingly simple.

Currently, I’ve seen 7 out of the 10 nominees. There are at least 4 or 5 pretty good films in the bunch, with 2 that I’d say come the closest to being “great.” I’ll come right back to that . . .

I guess that you could say I’m an intellectual sort when it comes to films. I like films that try to tackle big themes, cover new ground, and communicate that elusive something. While I love being entertained, I don’t consider the having of a good time to be the ultimate goal of a film, or the chief sign of its quality. There have been a number of films (Fight Club, anyone?) I’ve seen that I didn’t necessarily enjoy that I consider to be examples of true craftsmanship, and I’m glad I watched them. Now, I’m certainly not suggesting that my way of looking at films is the “right” way of doing it, and that other approaches are wrong.

That would be stupid.

My point is this. I don’t normally go for the popular choice. When people were proclaiming The Dark Knight the single greatest thing since the dot got put before the com, I was one of the few pointing out what I thought were flaws. When people went nuts over Star Trek, I . . . well, you remember.

So, having said all of that, making my choice for what I would vote for as the Best Picture of 2009 was surprisingly simple.

Avatar.

Nothing I saw in 2009 equals the experience I had with James Cameron’s juggernaut. The only other film that I considered for this slot was Quentin Tarantino’s Inglourious Basterds, but, as great as IB is, (and it is one of the best films an already venerable filmmaker has ever made) I don’t think that anything released between 01/01/2009 and 12/31/2009 comes close to the monumental achievement that is Avatar.

I’m astounded at the fact that almost everything I saw at key points on the screen was created by a computer. Watching it for the first time, I was skeptical of the idea that the incredibly lush world of Pandora was digitally generated. I mean, come on, obviously those blue guys were fake, but what about that tree? The water in the lake? The wind from the helicopter blades moving through the grass? Surely that had to have been real. No computer can make something look that good, and that authentic. There’s no way it could have been left up to processors and microchips.

But it was, and, while it was beautiful, there was even so much more to it than that.
See, Avatar is the kind of thing that George Lucas wanted to make with his Star Wars prequel trilogy. What he didn’t seem to realize is that mere visual trickery isn’t enough to make an audience invest in something. Our brains may enjoy the sight of a superbly created digital world, but our hearts want something to hang their proverbial hats on. I was sold on this thing, man. I wanted to see the Na’Vi triumph over the invading human scum, and I wanted Jake and Neytiri to end up together so desperately.

What Cameron’s done here is truly remarkable. He didn’t just demonstrate a mastery of CGI that no one to date has equaled. He made a film in which, even as your mind is marveling at what it’s watching, you partially (even totally) forget that what you’re seeing is created by a computer. Your heart simply sees a man and a woman standing side by side in a gorgeous place that’s unlike anything you’ve ever seen before.

So, with respect to Quentin Tarantino & Kathryn Bigelow, on Sunday night, Best Picture (and for my money, Best Director) should go to James Cameron for Avatar.

FotM: Hello, Oscar people, listen to me and I shall tell you things you know not of . . .

The Academy Award nominations are all about the snubs. Let's face it, the revelation (and subsequent analysis/rehash/blogger heaven) of what hasn't been nominated for an Oscar is often times much more interesting than what has received the coveted nod for the most prestigous honor the American film industy can bestow. There's no doubt that Tuesday's announcement will start the conversation afresh.

I know that nothing I write here will influence the nominations one bit, for two reasons.

Reason #1: No member of the Academy reads this blog.
Reason #2: The voting closed a week ago.

That said, Watchmen is one flick that I think deserves to be recognized by the Academy, even though I'm nearly positive it won't. The look of the film is spectacular. Creating Alan Moore and Dave Gibbon's dark, dreary world was no easy feat, and and merits a nomination for Best Art Direction for Francois Audouy, Helen Jarvis, & James Steuart.

The single biggest thing that I hope for, even though it's a hope against hope, is that the Academy will recognize Jackie Earl Haley's portrayal of Rorschach with a nomination for Best Supporting Actor. Look, Rorschach is special. If you get the chance to be Rorschach and you're crap, there will be thousands of people calling out for the immediate loss of your salary, if not your imminent demise. Rorschach isn't a hero with easily defined motives and a neat set of "powers." I think he's as close to a fully realized flesh and blood person as a superhero can be.

I seem to remember Alan Moore once saying that his goal with the character was to explore what it would be like if someone like Batman lived in the real world, and that he would probably be a psychopath. In a role that could have easily been butchered, Haley isn't just good. He's great. He captures the essence of the character in a way that feels so wonderfully right. In a story made up of archetypical "heroes" dealing with nothing less than the loss of heroism and morality in a cruel world, Haley brings Rorschach's bleeding heart and anguished mind to cruel, beautiful life.

While we're at it, could we swap out Star Trek's probable Best Picture nomination for a nod for Watchmen? I'm just saying . . .

FotM: The news is out all over town . . .

Last week, the Board of Governors of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences announced its decision to increase the number of nominees in the Best Picture category by 5. Yes, you heard me right. Instead of the Academy selecting 5 films to duke it out for the American film industry’s top prize, there will now be 10.

I think this is one of the most lame-brained strategic moves that an organization whose sanity is already in question often enough has made in years.

First of all, this move is extremely political. You could even say that it’s all politics. Academy President Sid Ganis has stated that the reason for the change was due to the fact that 2008 had just too many good movies to choose just 5. He also said that The Dark Knight being snubbed was a significant factor in the Board’s decision. You know what I think? That’s baloney, hogwash, el stupido reasoningo, you name it. Any time that you have a competition with that many potential nominees, there are, by necessity, going to be hard choices that have to be made.

Sure, I thought The Dark Knight was one of the year’s best films. That said, I thought The Reader was spectacular, and, while I really thought that Batman probably was going to get his first Oscar nomination in the big dance, I penciled Kate Winslet’s WWII film in as a possible upset. For my money, a really good film ends up in the top category either way. I understand that a lot of people were upset that it ended up being The Reader, but hey, that’s just the nature of competition. You can look back over the past several years and and just COUNT the snubs. City of God in 2003. Cold Mountain in 2004. Spider-Man 2 and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind in 2005. Dreamgirls in 2007. Children of Men and United 93 in 2007. Into the Wild in 2008. Need I go on? The point is simple: hard choices are the just the name of the game.

Second, adding more films to the category devalues what it means to have a Best Picture nomination. Essentially, I'm concerned that the field will be chosen from a compilation of what's on the most Top 10 lists at year's end. What's more, what I really hate is that the films that are chosen may be chosen as "token" films to represent their particular genre instead of being chosen for their overall quality. For example, while I feel that dramatic films will still dominate the category, it could easily play out like this: anywhere from 4-6 films will be dramas, then throw in a comedy or two, an animated film, a low budget art house film or two, a foreign film, and at least one big-budget summer movie.

Look, I understand the complaints that have been leveled against the Academy, but is increasing the number of nominees really the answer? Are we so paranoid in this country that we are unable to tell someone, "No, what you had to offer just wasn't good enough"? Think back to the golden age of blockbuster films. Films like Jaws, Star Wars, and Raiders of the Lost Ark all had the benefit of being some of the first films that fit into the summer blockbuster mold that we know so well. Each of these films, in its own way, captured the imagination of the whole world. You know what else they have in common? They all received an Academy Award nomination for Best Picture. Can you think back to the last time you saw a summer blockbuster as good as any of them? Didn't think so.

To get back to the political side of things, this decision feels like a way to boost ratings by nominating more comedic films and more big budget blockbusters, because more people would have a vested interest in watching to see if a movie they liked might win. I'm not against the possibility of more comedies getting Best Picture nominations. I'm not completely against the idea of a big summer movie getting a Best Picture nod. Heck, I welcome the idea of animated films and foreign films getting a greater percentage of Best Picture nominations. But what I want to see is all these types of films EARN their way into the top 5. Hey, I think the Academy's getting younger. It's not just made up of older, more conservative people to the degree that it has been in the past. Even Dakota Fanning is now a member. The possibility for a shift in future Oscar races already exists. If a change has to be made, why not add one more nominee to the category, making 6 the magic number? If more drastic change is required, why not adopt a similiar system to what the Hollywood Foreign Press uses with the Golden Globes by having two Best Picture categories, one for Drama and one for Musical/Comedy? Additionally, I don't like the idea of a small group of people making a major decision without consulting those they represent. I've done some perusing of the comment boards of both the New York Times and Los Angeles Times, and found Academy members not just decrying the move, but upset that they hadn't been consulted.

Do you realize what's now possible? Someone on one of those comment boards made a very valid point. It's now possible for a film to get 11% of the vote and WIN Best Picture. OK. Take a moment and read that sentence again. . . finished? That's an incredible thought. Potentially, there could be a film that 89% of the Academy despised, and it would still win. That just ain't right.