VJ Morton
(”(500) Days of Summer” is briefly mentioned in this.)
Gravatar

Skandies runners-up — scenes

“You Make My Dreams,” 500 DAYS OF SUMMER — Only people who don’t have a silly bone in their bodies, and so should not be reading this site, could fail to love this scene — so impossibly giddy, scored to such a bouncy piece of 80s pop cheese, a feeling of literal head-over-heels love as the whole universe impossibly cooperates in the impossible. (And the “impossible” part we’re told right from the beginning — giving the scene and the whole movie a wiser undercurrent.)

The Kids in the Chatroom, ADORATION — Another encapsulation of the film in miniature — or at least one strand of Egoyan’s messy thoughts. The hero Simon writes a story that becomes an Internet when some revelations about it are made — and what happens in this scene is that Simon’s friends debate via face-to-face chat what he did, what it meant, and rebut each other and get angry at Simon, at those in the story, at each other until Egoyan explodes the screen with more and more mostly-anonymous talking heads saying stuff that eventually becomes indistinct noise. Welcome to democratic mediated reality. Speaking of which …

Rob’s tribute film, AFTERSCHOOL — Mike has the scene posted here after it placed #15 in the overall results, which I’m not sure comes across as even very good outside of context, and it makes Rob seem like a bigger a*****e than he is. But again that’s a fair representation of the film as a whole, which is off-putting in some ways — stylized past the point of recognition, radically subjective. But the scene and the film wind up being both a subjective cri de coeur from a wounded soul and an objective cautionary tale about such souls.

Interrogating the two old ladies, THE BAD LIEUTENANT — PORT OF CALL: NEW ORLEANS — I’m pretty sure it’ll be outpolled by iguana-cam and the dancing soul, but this was the most batshit-funny scene in the film. From the start, with Cage doing an entrance from behind a door and then — well, a dada-insane bit of business that is so unexpected that even to describe it would be to spoil it by “goosing” you. And Cage growls over-the-top about being on 1 1/2 hours’ sleep as he interrogates a woman by playing with the tubes on another lady’s breathing machine — it’s like Jack Bauer played as a sick joke.

Taking the art teacher hostage, BRONSON — Now here’s an equally theatrical crime scene that is in every possible way the opposite of the TBL:POCNO scene. And yet, it’s a bit of a joke in the heart of the titular character who commits the crime, declaring with flair and panache that it was the capper to the REAL work of art that was his life of crime. Such a CLOCKWORK ORANGE Nietzschean act, which director Refn and actor Hardy indulge (they have to somewhat, lest the film be moralistic posturing), is aiming for my sweet spot.

The Boys Bloom, BROTHERS BLOOM — Mike has the scene posted here after it placed #18 in the overall results. An equally theatrical crime scene that is in every possible way the opposite of both the BRONSON and TBL:POCNO scenes — it’s like BUGSY MALONE set to a nursery rhyme. And the brilliance of Johnson’s writing is that he effectively hides his format — nobody realized until seeing it spelled out that the entire narration is in perfect rhyme and meter.

Ending, DRAG ME TO HELL — Hard to say much about without spoiling, obviously, except that it bumped the film up to clear “pro” vote from a marginal one (or even a “mixed”). Suffice to say that if you loved the ending of (click and drag to read) THE WAGES OF FEAR — this is just as sudden, just as pitiless and moral(istic?), and even more of a nawwwww—

Guitar sale, EXTRACT — This YouTube clip picks up the scene a minute or so into it, but you’ll get the point (you see the last minute of what previously had been going on). Hal Sparks in a Dana Carvey “Garth” mullet; two men pretending to do their job while really acting out something else, and the element that REALLY makes it work — the other customer in the background (this clip only has his last gesture). If only the rest of the film could have lived up to this, the opening scene.

The effect of sodium hydroxide, GOOD HAIR — Damn. By dropping this scene, I did something to GOOD HAIR that before this year I had never done to any film I gave at least an 8 grade — not given a single Skandie point in any category. (Like my hero Obama, I do ascribe to the “spread the wealth” philosophy.) Damn. As I said in my review, this was the scene I wanted to happen the minute I found out what the active ingredient in hair relaxant is. And then the white scientist has the exactly the same reaction at the end of Chris’s experiment.

Shave and a haircut, two fists, HUNGER — My actual choice for the best scene in HUNGER (it would not have been here, trust me) was declared ineligible for length’s sake, even though it’s as unified as any scene you’ll ever see. I decided to list this brutal scene instead, from “Act 1, Life inside the Maze” as a demonstration that, as we comfortable few are wont to forget, when you deal with obstreperous people, even treating them well sometimes cannot be done by acts of commendable civility.

Car bomb, THE HURT LOCKER — Mike has the scene posted here after it placed #12 in the overall results. Possibly the white knuckle scene of the year because Bigelow finds good excuses to spin things out, in the curiosity of a character for whom this is all, if not exactly a game, sufficiently routine not to be scared into a state of freedom from all excrement.

Job interview, OBSERVE AND REPORT — The scene in question begins about 4:10 into this general highlight clip and takes up the rest of its 6:30. The scenes in the first 4 minutes are generally very good, but what they can really do, for right here, is set up Rogen’s character and what makes this specific scene so hilarious. Rogen’s low-key assurance and bonhomie co-exists in the same body with some really twisted darkness and a soul-defining obsession. His character is trying to make a good impression, and by his own lights, he damn well is. (And the other scenes also have me kicking myself for forgetting short-listing Celia Weston for Supporting Female, though her highlight — “just beer” — isn’t here.)

Dillinger in the FBI office, PUBLIC ENEMIES — Mike has the scene posted here after it placed #17 in the overall results. It’s funnier really in concept than when you’re watching it, though that retrospective glance is probably the point. Even if it’s just a legend or myth, it’s the kind of “true myth” that points to something broader that really IS true. Could, say, Osama bin Laden show up at the Justice Department today and do this? In a mediated, post-McLuhan world … no. But Dillinger in the 1930s (or Bonnie and Clyde; both in real life and the Arthur Penn movie) … yes.

Bomb shelter, THE ROAD — The movie’s one sequence of lightness, of reverie, of security, and of something like what we recognize as a materially normal life (says Victor, typing during record blizzards that already have knocked out his electricity five or six times, albeit only once for more than a minute or two). Though I don’t consider that “happy feeling” per se why the scene is great and memorable, as if happy scenes are better than sad scenes — no, the reason this scene is great is the gap between the father’s relief and the boy’s incredulity at a world he knows nothing of. And the reason it comes to an end.

The Spinners vs. Muhammad Ali, SOUL POWER — Damn. By dropping this scene, I did something to SOUL POWER that before this year I had never done to any film I gave at least an 8 grade — not given a single Skandie point in any category. (Like my hero Obama, etc., etc. … What makes this scene stand out, in a film not short of great concert numbers, is that it shows the not-merely-historical link between the concert and the Rumble in the Jungle — in how much Ali learned from the great R&B stars (and they from him) in terms of the brash-talking persona, strutting his stuff in public, and dancing about the ring. Damn.

The meaning of the song, STILL WALKING — Dunno how well this scene, a quiet scene near the end, would really play outside of context, and cannot really describe what it’s about beyond the title. Let’s just say it’s a very low-key, almost-stifled, equivalent of the night quarrel in AUTUMN SONATA, where one character tells another what he knows and has thought about him for decades but never had reason or occasion to say before now.

Die Männer, A WOMAN IN BERLIN — I haven’t seen this since Toronto but I remember saying to myself every manner of “what the frack/this can’t have been true” (though it obviously was). I could hardly believe characters in this situation would say this. Or maybe it was just harmless “he doesn’t pay any attention to me” girl-talk, only with really really REALLY amped-up stakes that the women themselves hardly notice any more.

Advertisement
Advertisements
Report this ad
Report this ad

Like this:

Like Loading...

Related

February 10, 2010 - Posted by | Skandies

2 Comments »

  1. That particular scene in STILL WALKING is the exact moment I pushed Kirin Kiki onto my Best Supporting Actress ballot for the Muriels. It’s just beautifully played, even more so than the later big (yet still quiet) speech she gets about her feelings towards the awkward young man who owes his life to her deceased son.

    Comment by Steve C. | February 13, 2010 | Reply

  2. > “You Make My Dreams,” 500 DAYS OF SUMMER — Only people who don’t have a silly bone in their bodies, and so should not be reading this site, could fail to love this scene

    I’d best un-bookmark you now then, V-Mort. I can’t remember when in the film this seen appeared, but I’m pretty sure I was hating the film by this point.

    Comment by DanO | February 20, 2010 | Reply


Leave a Reply Cancel reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

« Previous | Next »

(Review Source)
VJ Morton
(”(500) Days of Summer” is briefly mentioned in this.)

Skandie runners-up — male leads

Well, it’s now Skandie time, and Mike is unveiling the Top 20 at his site Listen, Eggroll. So in the next couple of weeks, before posting my entire ballot proper, I’ll be posting a few words about the films, performances, etc., I voted for. And to start with, about those I DIDN’T vote for.

My procedure every year is to devote a day to making a short list of contenders, based on the Eligible Films list, and what has managed to stay with me, as of late January of the next year (all eligible films started to screen commercially in New York during 2009, and did so for at least a week). Then I shuck away, until I’m left with 10 in each of the categories. I’ll start with the acting categories — these are the Lead Male Performances that I short-listed but DIDN’T vote for. In this and other categories, the bold-face and the lead art are from the last one I eliminated — the #11, as it were.

This most-circulated HUMPDAY still (Duplass, left) is precisely what the film is NOT about. Instead, Lynn Shelton's film is about the ridiculousness of giving in to sex in Bohemia's name.

LEAD MALE
Joseph Gordon Leavitt, 500 DAYS OF SUMMER — So what if he can do the sensitive emo dork role in his sleep? In *this* sensitive emo dork, there’s not a trace of self-righteousness or whininess.

Willem Defoe, ANTICHRIST — When asked at Toronto “how does one prepare as an actor for a scene where you’re genitally mutilated,” he replied “you don’t.” Really — that’s all that need be said.

Lluis Homar, BROKEN EMBRACES — Shows off a late middle-age “this is my last chance” hunger that prevented his character from being either a dirty old man or a petty tyrant. Pedro should work with him more.

Mark Ruffalo, BROTHERS BLOOM — His occasional cocksure self-regard really works well in this role but he keeps it in rein and appropriately artificial, as the however-illogical ending requires (think — or don’t — what Mark Wahlberg would have done here).

Sasha Baron Cohen, BRUNO — Yes, the film as a whole was a misfire, but when Cohen gets a provocation really cooking, with the right audience he can milk it better than the best professional wrestling heel.

Clive Owen, DUPLICITY — Blows away George Clooney’s performance in UP IN THE AIR in the category of Sheer Old-School Glamour Dripping Off His Fingers role of 2009 — playing a rogue.

George Clooney, FANTASTIC MR. FOX — Blows away George Clooney’s performance in UP IN THE AIR in the category of Sheer Old-School Glamour Dripping Off His Fingers role of 2009 — playing a rogue.

Souleymane Sy Savane, GOODBYE SOLO — Here is the very opposite of Sheer Old School … etc. — a performance that feels like (even if it isn’t) a real person playing a slightly-fictionalized version of himself, a la 40s De Sica and Rossellini.

Mark Duplass, HUMPDAY — Here is the very opposite of Sheer Old School … etc. — a performance that feels like (even if it isn’t) a real person playing a slightly-fictionalized version of himself, a la 40s Visconti.

Morgan Freeman, INVICTUS — Went back and forth on this one. Even if it is just an imitation, it’s a damn good one, and good casting too — the man who played God portraying our era’s secular saint.

Benno Furmann, JERICHOW — Probably the least-known performance in this bunch, but it’s a triumph of masculine physicality and mannerism creating a not-black-souled viciousness (Waz isn’t wrong in saying it’s a bit wooden, but also not wrong in saying …)

Kim Yung-ho, NIGHT AND DAY — Probably the least-known performance in this bunch, but it’s a triumph of utter self-absorption and complete cluelessness that somehow doesn’t create a Mister Magoo or (mere) Innocent Abroad

Micah Sloat, PARANORMAL ACTIVITY — Along with Katie Featherstone (not among Actress Runners-Up … hint, hint), he creates something new and exciting — effectively natural performance in a completely self-referential genre (the YouTube home movie)

Dragos Bucur, POLICE, ADJECTIVE — Eve was correct … he is awesome at eating soup, though look for someone even more awesome at chopping wood in the main list.

Viggo Mortensen, THE ROAD — The testimony to this performance is that the film, which pretty much rests entirely on his shoulders and has only the most elemental of plots, is even watchable (in fact, pretty good in my opinion)

Colin Firth, A SINGLE MAN — Seeing D’Arcy as a Christopher Isherwood character was disconcerting, but like Mortensen, he fills out a simple-content movie, though only as far as watchability in his case (the ending is unforgivable, sorry)

Charles Berling, SUMMER HOURS — Among the kids in the family, he’s the audience-identification figure, and Berling has the right mix of idealism and pragmatism (Binoche and Regnier are different shades of pragmatic) to pull off the needed surrender.

Teruyuki Kagawa, TOKYO SONATA — He has the bits I remember best from Toronto 2007 (I saw it alongside NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN and so hated its last reel that I’ve never gone back to it) — the pride-shame mix in dealing with his family.

Woody Harrelson, ZOMBIELAND — Remember how awesome Woody the Bartender was. Here’s a completely different type of comic “character role,” sure, but Harrelson shows he hasn’t lost it. He should just do comedy from now on.

Advertisement
Advertisements
Report this ad
Report this ad

Like this:

Like Loading...

February 6, 2010 - Posted by | Skandies

No comments yet.

Leave a Reply Cancel reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

« Previous | Next »

(Review Source)
PJ Media Staff
(”(500) Days of Summer” is briefly mentioned in this.)
Lifestyle var dataLayer = window.dataLayer = window.dataLayer || []; dataLayer.push({ 'videoName': 'The Amazing Spider-Man New Trailer 2 Official 2012 [1080 HD] - Andrew Garfield', 'videoType': 'Curated' }); The Amazing Spider-Man is amazingly similar to 2002’s Spider-Man. But it’s a perfectly enjoyable and competent summer blockbuster, and though I’d estimate about two-thirds of this film’s DNA comes from the earlier one, it’s fun to notice the small differences between the two Spideys.This time it’s UK-bred actor Andrew Garfield (whose American accent is, as far as I could tell, flawless) who plays high school loser Peter Parker, a dorky photographer constantly bullied by cooler classmates but who attracts the notice of pretty Gwen Stacy (The Help star Emma Stone, blonde this time). Peter pursues the unfinished genetic experiments of his scientist father (Campbell Scott), who disappeared one night and left him in the permanent care of his Uncle Ben (Martin Sheen, slightly overdoing the doddering act) and Aunt May (Sally Field). Those experiments take Peter to the lab of Dr. Curt Connors (veteran Brit actor Rhys Ifans, still best known for playing Hugh Grant’s wacky roommate in Notting Hill), where, in one of the film’s many groan-inducing coincidences, Gwen also works. Despite heavy security at the super-secret lab, Peter sneaks into the unguarded inner sanctum where he learns more about experiments meant to regrow human limbs -- Dr. Connors is missing an arm. It's here that he's bitten by a genetically altered spider.The usual sequences of discovery of super-powers follow, and there’s even a scene with Peter getting the idea of wearing a costume from accidentally falling into a wrestling ring that features masked combatants. But to me Spidey 2.0 is more interesting than the likeable goody-goody played by the mild Tobey Maguire. First, Peter Parker has been picked on for a long time, and turning the tables on his tormentors gives him a license to act like a jerk himself for a while, for instance in a scene with the bully Flash (Chris Zylka) on a basketball court, where Parker’s arachnid grip and reflexes are simply used to humiliate the other boy. Peter is even unforgivably rude to his guardians. Making Peter less sweet and innocent makes him seem more human and real, and I think we’ve all seen that teens are fully capable of being arrogant and obnoxious. var dataLayer = window.dataLayer = window.dataLayer || []; dataLayer.push({ 'videoName': 'Spider-man Trailer', 'videoType': 'Curated' }); class="pages"> https://pjmedia.com/lifestyle/2012/6/30/do-we-really-need-another-spider-man-movie/ previous Page 1 of 2 next   ]]>
(Review Source)
John Hanlon
(”(500) Days of Summer” is briefly mentioned in this.)
In their new film Paper Towns, store  screenwriters Scott Neustadter and Michael Weber were tasked with an unusual assignment for a film focused on young adults.  Adapting the novel by John Green, they were asked to translate the mystery so important to the book onto the big... <img src="http://www.johnhanlonreviews.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/08/Paper-Towns-Screenwriters-270x233.jpg" type="image/jpeg"/>
(Review Source)
Crosswalk
Movies DVD Release Date:  December 22, 2009Theatrical Release Date:  July 31, 2009 Rating:  PG-13 (for language, sexual material, sexual situations.)Genre:  Romantic Comedy, DramaRun Time:  95 min.Director:  Marc WebbCast:  Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Zooey Deschanel, Geoffrey Arend, Chloe Moretz, Matthew Gray Gubler, Clark Gregg, Yvette Nicole BrownThe Romantic-Comedy/Drama genre is arguably the most stale in contemporary cinema, so it grabs your attention when a film announces (quite literally, in this case) rather different intentions.  In the opening sequence of (500) Days of Summer, the narrator warns us quite plainly "This is a story of Boy Meets Girl, but you should know up front—this is not a love story."  The marketing tweaked that declaration in a more vaguely hopeful way: "This is not a love story.  This is a story about love."  Yet for such intriguingly subversive goals (and despite occasionally following through on them), this movie is too often reliant on being like so many other rom-coms before it.  Sure, it's cute.  It's cool.  It's even good.  But it should be better. The "Boy" is Tom Hansen (Joseph Gordon-Levitt, The Lookout), a Greeting Card copywriter who's looking for The One.  The titular "Summer" is not the season but rather the "Girl" Summer Finn (Zooey Deschanel, Elf), a new employee at the card company that Tom instantly knows is the one he's been looking for.  The 500 Days of Her are shared, experienced and seen from the perspective of Him.  As you might expect (and even hope for), it's an emotional rollercoaster of blissful highs, challenging lows and unexpected turns. While adherence to Romance genre rules and staples lacks the inspiration of its premise, the movie's refreshing spin is found primarily in first-time director Marc Webb's style.  Eschewing the standard high-production gloss, cute/plucky tone and standard linear arc, (500) Days of Summer certainly feels different with its indie aesthetic (a more textured visual; a hipster soundtrack rather than Top 40 pop tunes, etc.) and non-linear structure.  The story jumps around within their 500 days together, going back-and-forth between good times and bad (and even beginning at a breakup), using that device to effectively mirror how identical events can feel very different at different times, first early in a relationship (exciting and new) and then later (stagnant and old). Perhaps the most obvious change to formula here is the gender-reversal twist.  The "boy" Tom is a romantic who's ready to dive in while the "girl" Summer is the cynic with commitment issues.  Tom is emotionally needy while Summer is emotionally guarded.  He's over-reactive; she can be a bit clueless.  He needs to know "where they're at"; she avoids such definitions (likely out of fear).  He's even given the comic-relief best friends to sulk with while she's content keeping a surface distance with those around her.  Gordon-Levitt and Deschanel wisely stick to their natural masculine and feminine qualities, respectively (he has a natural, cool ease while she is bubbly and vivacious), generating an idyllic chemistry that is effortless and alive, with the glow of a modern-day Rock Hudson/Doris Day.SEE ALSO: Indie Feel Makes Lookout a Different Kind of Thriller googletag.cmd.push(function() { googletag.display('gpt-ad-1'); }); Yet even within that fresh take, we see a movie that too often falls back and relies on archetypal genre clichés.  Too-clever-by-half scripted banter and gossipy emotional venting between friends—even if between men instead of women—is still too-clever-by-half.  Contrived moments (Tom actually talks to himself in a mirror—who does that?) are still contrived, and stock characters (like a cute but wise-beyond-her-years grade-school girl whose sole function is to provide Tom sage relationship advice) still exist solely to fill a function rather than be genuine, real people.  If the movie's goal were simply to be another product of the studio machine, all of this would be forgivable (even if not necessarily bearable).  That it aspires to something more authentic requires more thought, effort and nonconformity than Webb and his screenwriters are able to provide.  It's refreshing and even effective to see all of the chances they take stylistically (indeed, the movie has its share of inspired moments), but for a romance that boasts the courage to not be your standard love story, well, it's not enough. But thankfully, it doesn't pull its punches when it really counts.  Certainly one of the film's advantages is that, despite fidelity to formula, its very premise maintains a very real (and rare) sense of suspense and mystery.  We really don't know how this is going to end.  It legitimately could go either way.  That—coupled with the endearing chemistry of Gordon-Levitt and Deschanel along with Webb's creative flourishes—effectively makes up for the film's typical beats.  Best of all, it ends strong.  Having the courage to stick to its core thematic audacity, the final narrative stretch transcends the film's conventional faults rather than falling prey to them.  A late (and great) split-screen sequence that mirrors in real-time Tom's expectations for a party at Summer's apartment with the reality of what actually happens is not only an ingenious storytelling device, it rings powerfully true in all-too-identifiable ways.  We've all lived this.  We've all felt this.  We have a dream of how something is going to unfold, and then those dreams are dashed at every moment.  It hurts, it's real, and it's a defining moment. I won't reveal how this relationship resolves other than to say, tonally, it's a mixture of the entire film; on one hand it really has the chutzpah to stick to its philosophical guns, yet doesn't quite have the guts to end when it should.  Still, while it lacks the backbone to completely buck convention, its view of relationships and the realities of falling in love are remarkably honest.  (500) Days of Summer doesn't completely break from its genre as it initially promises, but it definitely stands out within it—and for that not only is it worthwhile, it's actually kind of memorable.CAUTIONS: googletag.cmd.push(function() { googletag.display('gpt-ad-2'); }); if (gptClientWidth >= 992 && gptClientWidth <= 1000000) googletag.cmd.push(function() { googletag.display('gpt-ad-3'); }); Drugs/Alcohol:  Drinking alcohol (beer, vodka).  Moments of inebriation. Language/Profanity:  A fairly full range of profanities, although they're occasionally used rather than consistently.  The most common is the "s"-word.  The Lord's name is used in vain on a few occasions.  One use of the "f"-word.  In one scene, the word "penis" is repeated loudly in a public park.  Also some sexually suggestive references (see below).Sexual Content/Nudity:  A slang reference to oral sex is made, as are explicit "second and third base-ish" type of references.  A porn video is briefly heard (just panting) but not seen, and it is suggested that a couple re-enacts it behind a shower curtain in another brief moment, played for comedy.  The terms "rack" and "w***e" are used.  A photograph of a bulging penis underneath tight jeans is briefly seen.Violence/Other:  A brief fist-fight.  Jeffrey Huston is a film director, writer and producer at Steelehouse Productions in Tulsa, Okla.  He is also cohost of "Steelehouse Podcast," along with Steelehouse Executive Creative Mark Steele, where each week they discuss God in pop culture.  To listen to the weekly podcast, please visit www.steelehouse.com or click here.  You can also subscribe to "Steelehouse Podcast" through iTunes.   ]]>
(Review Source)
Michael Medved
http://www.michaelmedved.com/wp-content/uploads/500daysofsummer.mp3.mp3
(Review Source)
Kyle Smith
(”(500) Days of Summer” is briefly mentioned in this.)
By Tuesday at this time I’ll have seen “X-Men Origins: Wolverine,” which looks pretty cool. I’m digging the idea of Liev Schreiber as the baddie. Plus he looks like he could be Hugh Jackman’s half-brother. Movies I’m most looking forward to seeing: 1. Funny People. I’m not sold on Adam Sandler as an actor–no matter what he does, you can still see the Billy Madison in him–but I’m willing to give Judd Apatow the ball and see what he can do with it. I assume he’s done enough good work to have made it to the top — more or less complete creative control — and I think he’s got a lot of great ideas. 2. Public Enemies. Michael Mann could make a four-hour movie and I’d be down with that. Seems like it can’t miss, with Johnny Depp as Dillinger and Christian Bale along for the fun. 3. Up. I have no idea what Pixar’s latest movie is about. (I don’t want to know, by the way. Don’t tell me.) Ed Asner as an old guy whose house floats away with balloons? The fact that it can’t be summarized in a trailer makes it seem interesting to me. And all of Pixar’s movies so far have been classics. Except two: Monsters, Inc. and Wall-E. 4. 500 Days of Summer. Offbeat romcom with Joseph Gordon-Levitt got great reviews at Sundance. Which normally means: Stay away. I have hopes that this’ll be different. 5. The Taking of Pelham 1, 2, 3. Whenever they remake a great movie, I’m automatically interested, just to see what they do differently. Tony Scott is a bit manic but usually entertaining. 6. The Boat That Rocked. Richard Curtis film about a DJ (Philip Seymour Hoffman.) The film is being buried in August, which is not a good sign, but Curtis’s sweet idealistic optimism, and his wit, almost always work beautifully. 7. Year One. Jack Black doing Dawn of Man shtick? I think Black has great taste in scripts. He wants to do interestingly weird stuff, and he usually succeeds. 8. X-Men Origins: Wolverine. The trailer is promising. If they’re taking the franchise in a Batman direction, I’ll love it. 9. Inglourious Basterds. Or however they’re spelling it. Again, dumping it in August is not a good sign. And I do suspect Quentin Tarantino is running out of ideas. But it’s bound to have a couple of memorable scenes, which is more than I can say about most movies. 10. Terminator: Salvation. Against my better judgment. McG? Really? But the trailer looks great, and I don’t think Christian Bale would do it if the script weren’t hot. Maybe McG has grown up by now.]]>
(Review Source)
Kyle Smith
(”(500) Days of Summer” is briefly mentioned in this.)
Sat through “Beginners” today. I had no idea what it was going to be about, but I liked writer-director Mike Mills’s “Thumbsucker” so I stumbled in and had a seat. The one-sheet of smiley, happy people in cute outfits could scarcely have been more misleading: Ewan McGregor spends 90 percent of the movie being morose because his dad (Christopher Plummer), who announced at age 75 after his wife’s death that he was gay, is dying. But Plummer doesn’t just die; he is dying throughout the movie, which is told in crumbs much like “500 Days of Summer.” I fear the let’s-toss-the-scenes-into-a-salad idea is going to be done to death in coming years because it’s a way to take an otherwise completely ordinary story progression and make it seem cutting-edge. McGregor’s character, a rich depressed kid turned rich depressed adult, is treated to nonstop Wacky Movie Behavior such as wearing Halloween costumes, driving on sidewalks, rollerskating through the lobby of a grand hotel, etc. (He does not burst into song, for which I am grateful.) A pet Jack Russell speaks to him in subtitles, which is less cute onscreen than it sounds. And the semi-restrained version of a Manic Pixie Dream Girl is Melanie Laurent, a successful actress who does what all beautiful women do with silent men slouching through parties — she picks him up and gives him her undying love as he…drifts around being sad. The odd thing about this kind of movie is this: The protagonists are invariably soulful, sensitive males — yet these lactational dudes never seem to have the slightest clue to, or even interest in, what their women are thinking. At the end of “500 Days of Summer,” for instance, we’re meant to believe that Summer has been falling in love with another guy, and even marrying him, without our being aware of this man’s existence. How could the hero be so out of it? In “Beginners,” the Laurent character exists entirely, solely, completely to help McGregor’s character, a graphic artist, try to be less depressed. But who is she? What is she about? What does she want? We never find out. All we know is that he’s blue. She’s not a person but more of an antidepressant. If I were a woman, I think I’d prefer to be a sex object. ]]>
(Review Source)
PJ Media Staff
PJ Media Any of my regular readers here at PJ Media can attest, I am no fan of the FBI's counter-terrorism programs. Recently, I've been writing about the FBI's failures to catch "Known Wolf" terrorists -- individuals who were already known to law enforcement prior to their acts of terror. So no one can accuse me of being an apologist for the bureau.But an article yesterday in The Guardian entitled "Counter-terrorism is supposed to let us live without fear. Instead, it's creating more of it" by two individuals currently promoting the screening of their film (T)ERROR at the Sundance International Film Festival falsely claims the FBI is engaged in a deliberate effort to entrap innocent American Muslims.Here's the case they make:While making our film (T)ERROR, which tracks a single counter-terrorism sting operation over seven months, we realized that most people have serious misconceptions about FBI counter-terrorism efforts. They assume that informants infiltrate terrorist networks and then provide the FBI with information about those networks in order to stop terrorist plots from being carried out. That’s not true in the vast majority of domestic terrorism cases.Since 9/11, as Human Rights Watch and others have documented, the FBI has routinely used paid informants not to capture existing terrorists, but to cultivate them. Through elaborate sting operations, informants are directed to spend months – sometimes years – building relationships with targets, stoking their anger and offering ideas and incentives that encourage them to engage in terrorist activity. And the moment a target takes a decisive step forward, crossing the line from aspirational to operational, the FBI swoops in to arrest him.So they accuse the FBI of setting suspects up and then arresting them -- entrapment. This "entrapment" claim is commonly repeated by defense attorneys and self-styled "civil rights" groups. In fact, that's what the authors of The Guardian article explicitly say:The cumulative effects of FBI surveillance and entrapment in communities of color have been devastating.I'll leave aside their "communities of color" smear, but there is one glaring problem with their entrapment claim: in no single jihadist-related terrorism trial since the 9/11 attacks has a federal court on ANY LEVEL found that the FBI engaged in entrapment. Many suspects have made the claim, but none have successfully argued it. In only one case I remember, that of Ahmadullah Niazi, did the Justice Department voluntarily drop an indictment because of the reliability of an informant.Those who peddle these FBI entrapment claims have been found to regularly play fast and loose with data, such as describing terror conspirators who turn state's evidence against their partners and are sentenced to jail for their roles in terror plots as "informants."Another tactic taken is to equate the involvement of an informant as a de facto case of entrapment, as do the authors of The Guardian article. They cite the arrest earlier this month of a Cincinnati-area man:A recent example: on 14 January, the FBI announced that it had interrupted an Isis-inspired terrorist plot in the United States. Christopher Lee Cornell, a 20-year-old recent Muslim convert from Cincinnati, was allegedly plotting to attack the US Capitol with pipe bombs and gun down government officials.But then they make a colossal leap with this non sequitur:Cornell was arrested after purchasing two semiautomatic weapons from an Ohio gun store because the man that Cornell thought was his partner was actually an FBI informant.So the reason he bought the weapons was because there was an informant? In the information made available so far, there's no indication that's the case. If the record of every single jihad-related terror case since 9/11 is any guide, it's unlikely their claim will stand. One reason why these terrorism cases have universally withstood scrutiny by the federal courts are the extensive measures taken by the FBI to prevent entrapment.As an example of how far the FBI will go to prevent someone from turning to terror, consider the case of 19-year-old Colorado woman Shannon Conley, who was sentenced last week to four years in prison. As the court record shows, the FBI repeatedly warned Conley over a period of months not to attempt to travel to Syria to join ISIS and even talked to her parents asking them to intervene. And yet she persisted in her plans and was arrested trying to board a plane bound for Turkey. Now her parents are saying "the terrorists have won" after her sentencing, blaming the federal government for prosecuting their daughter.If anything, this administration has bent over backwards to accommodate the concerns that they are unfairly targeting Muslims, such as special rules for dealing with the Muslim community and conducting a wide-spread purge of counter-terrorism training materials at the request of Muslim organizations. Curiously, none of this is mentioned in The Guardian article.Attorney General Eric Holder, hardly a right-wing neo-con "Islamophobe," has directly challenged the claims that the FBI uses entrapment targeting the Muslim community, telling one Muslim legal group:Those who characterize the FBI's activities in this case as 'entrapment' simply do not have their facts straight or do not have a full understanding of the law.And yet The Guardian regurgitates a number of howlers, such as this:And on campuses across the country, Muslim student associations have banned discussions of politics, terrorism and the “war on terror.”But Muslim Student Associations (MSA) have had no trouble at all discussing politics, terrorism and the "war on terror." In fact, you can't shut them up from talking about it. One topic you won't hear addressed at MSA meetings, however, is the long litany of senior MSA leaders who have been convicted in terrorism cases.In the absence of actual evidence, The Guardian authors have to resort to anecdotes, including this one:After a recent screening of our film at a New York City mosque, a young African-American convert to Islam, sporting a brown full-body covering with matching hijab, confessed to us that she feels uncomfortable discussing aspects of her identity. She does not speak about her religious conversion in public, for fear of attracting or encouraging informants.Yes, because wearing a brown full-body covering with a matching hijab, no one would ever know she's a Muslim.This is how laughably ridiculous those who peddle this false narrative have sunk. Perhaps a review of some of the jihad-related terror cases where FBI informants weren't involved is warranted:Beltway snipers John Allen Muhammad and Lee Boyd MalvoUNC-Chapel Hill vehicle jihadist Mohammed Reza Taheri-azarSeattle Jewish Federation killer Naveed Afzal HaqLittle Rock killer Carlos Bledsoe (aka Abdulhakim Mujahid Muhammad)Fort Hood killer Major Nidal HasanWould-be Times Square bomber Faisal ShahzadBoston bombers Tamerlan and Dzhokhar TsarnaevCross-country jihadist spree killer Ali Muhammad BrownUndoubtedly, if FBI informants had been used in any of these cases to prevent their terror attacks, The Guardian authors, Islamic "civil rights" groups and their ilk would be crying "entrapment." class="pages"> https://pjmedia.com/blog/is-the-fbi-entrapping-innocent-muslims/ ]]>
(Review Source)
(Untitled)
VJ Morton
(”(Untitled)” is briefly mentioned in this.)

Long and boring … do not read

Before Big Hollywood gave Sonny the space to rebut Ben Shapiro’s execrable post about the Top 10 Most Overrated Directors of All Time — the site’s editor-in-chief weighed in. But not on the correct side.

John Nolte aka Dirty Harry defended the Shapiro piece (saying “Bravo!” and “I loved” it), which was a disappointment. Again, not so much because he defended it (one would hardly expect an editor to turn against his own writer in a public forum), but because of the way he defended it — with the most unconservative arguments in the book. Here is the essential excerpt.

We could all come up with lists like this, lists that defy the conventional wisdom in one area or another. Taste is subjective. Certainly there are those who somehow find themselves in the enviable position of being “cinematic tastemakers.” But…
…who anointed them?
Who anoints the anointers?
Who knows?
Who cares?
There are many film writers and historians worthy of admiration for both their passion and knowledge of cinema’s rich lore and history. Off the top of my head I can’t get enough of Robert Osborne, Kurt Loder, David Thomson, Richard Schickel, and Ephraim Katz. Not to mention our own Robert Avrech and Leo Grin. Leonard Maltin’s movie guide has been a well-thumbed staple at my side for a quarter century. So I say with no offense to any these gentlemen that their opinions mean nothing to me.
As with any art medium, no matter how schooled, experienced, educated or knowledgeable, when it comes to likes and dislikes, there is no arbiter. No one knows.
I’ll take a velvet Elvis over a Picasso or Jackson Pollock Any. Day. Of. The Week. Because…
No one knows.
Certainly there are reasonable ways to objectively judge the look of a film, the performances, the score, and the other cogs that make up the wheel. But not the wheel itself, not the movie itself. That would be like judging someone’s love for another. You and everyone else may find her homely and dumb and a lousy cook, but he loves her and she makes him happy.
And I’m tired of being told what to like. I’m tired of being told that this director’s important or that film has something to say…

To elaborate on the response I gave at the Big Hollywood combox, there is much there I agree with. Obviously, matters of pure taste are inarguable, aesthetic judgment is not mathematics, and nobody is trying to tell Nolte, Shapiro or anybody else what to like. I was careful to state that I don’t have anything per-se against someone not liking Hitchcock or any other director. Most of the better comments against Shapiro stipulated that exact point. What I, and apparently quite a few other Big Hollywood readers, have something against (a lot, actually) is Shapiro’s specific post — its schoolboy fact errors, its pronunciamento tone, and its utter lack of argument and support that might make a discussion with him over beer *actually worthwhile.* Shapiro’s article consisted of “it roolz/it droolz!!!” and no details that indisputably demonstrated that he had ever seen the movies in question. And I’m sorry, but that’s just sophomoric drivel.

There’s also something deeply unconservative about Nolte’s defense. The recent movie (UNTITLED), which is in significant part about hucksterism in the contemporary art scene, had a very apposite line: “That is not my opinion. It is my judgment.” The difference between opinion and judgment cannot be overstated. For most college-educated conservatives of my generation, our defining moment, the event(s) that made us conservatives was the campus political-correctness and canon wars of the late 80s and early 90s. At that time, the canon of the arts was being attacked as the oppressive tool of Dead White Males and the very notion of canonicity and its key element (judgment) were being “deconstructed,” “problematized,” “critiqued,” etc. And not just in the name of raceclassgendersexuality but also whole (much more serious and weighty, if often popularized and vulgarized) philosophies dating back to Nietzsche and Rousseau.

We were attracted to conservatism because it opposed radical selfdom, radical subjectivism and radical emotivism. Yet Nolte’s defense of what is essentially a list of self-referential emotive outbursts from Shapiro is a betrayal of the concept of “judgment” in the name of subjectiveness. Yes, subjectiveness is *IN* every aesthetic judgment, but that doesn’t mean every aesthetic judgment is NOTHING BUT subjectivity. I couldn’t care less about someone’s opinion of Hitchcock (on that, Nolte and I are at one); I could care about someone’s judgment about Hitchcock. However, Shapiro offered no judgment and Nolte defends that. And even if, at the end of the day, it IS all subjective, can we at least GET to the end of the day in an interesting way?

But why should someone have to offer judgment? Because artistic canons exist. While it’s fine not like a canonized work or body of work (that’s an opinion and inarguable), it’s incumbent on a person who doesn’t do so in public to state his reasons and provide a basis for his judgment. And yes, it is incumbent on the contrarian in a way that it is less so for the person who likes the canonized work(s). Is this unequal? Yes. But arguments from inequality per-se and the four-letter f-word (“fair”) should only persuade nihilistic liberals. Conservatives are supposed to stand for Tradition, for the settled ways that represent the accumulated wisdom of the past; it is liberals and leftists who think, like children, the world can be made anew, starting with Year Zero (there was something faintly Khmer Rouge-ish about Nolte’s closing “Yes, right here at Big Hollywood, let’s tear this mother down, start over, and have at it”). Conservatives do remember our Edmund Burke, don’t we, or are we all now subjectivists all the way down, indifferent to canonicity? The notion that artistic canons had to justify themselves anew every day to everyone is the natural territory of liberal authorityphobes and god-haters. Ah … there’s that other bugbear word, besides “opinion” — “authority.” Nolte nods in this direction with his passage about “cinematic tastemakers” and “anointers,” but immediately responds with, in effect, “who made them that.” The very fact that a conservative like Nolte takes us so quickly to the not-so-grand not-so-cosmic “sez who,” to any notion that smells like authority is itself symptomatic of the sickness of our time.¹

The short answer to Nolte’s question is “nobody,” at least not in any formal sense. But art is no more like government than it is mathematics. Nobody has authority in any of Max Weber’s formal senses (I certainly don’t claim any; I know no critic who does). The only authority I have to declare Ben Shapiro a twit and his article a worthless embarrassment is my reason, my experience and my appeals to others’. That’s the only authority that will ever exist in the arts or criticism. But it is a kind of authority, and conservatives shouldn’t argue that we can do without it. Artistic authority has no formal expression and/or we wouldn’t want to give it formal expression. But going from that fact to attacking it is akin to (actually just “is,” if in another field) post-war liberals thinking that informal (or “soft”) types of social authority as family, custom, elders, credentials, propriety, manners, etc., were mere oppressive prejudices and could either be done away with or replaced by more “rational” forms of authority, meaning government and law.

We all know how that turned out, don’t we?
————————————————-
¹ Nolte’s phrase “who anoints the anointers” is a play on the Roman phrase “who guards the guardians.” It’s another symptom of our time’s sickness that a conservative thinks of artistic judgement in terms of a metaphor related to the domination that is government power.

Advertisement
Advertisements
Report this ad
Report this ad

Like this:

Like Loading...

Related

January 19, 2010 - Posted by | John Nolte

9 Comments »

  1. And this is even more fun than the Shapiro critique; many things to savor, acknowledge and mentally argue through. I need to visit here more often.

    Comment by The Siren | January 19, 2010 | Reply

  2. Lucidly argued. I read the Shapiro piece- and, though I have hardly watched any of the canons exhaustively, I found the piece pretty shallow. If he claims to be a critic, then he does deserve the flak. As a sophomore amateur cinema-enthusiast, I have my feelings of wtf’s-the-big-deal-with-this moments, but then I read, gain insights, assuage my doubts(even if slightly)and refine/reserve my judgements.

    My takes at the moment??
    I find the Lean films I’ve tried ‘boring’, his films ‘feeling’ more like templates of future more engaging spin-offs.
    And, Lynch’s Blue Velvet had me guffawing at the sheer mountain out of a molehill-ness of the whole thing, a judgement I still doggedly reserve, principally as a reactionary backlash. Was Absolutely Enthralled and Bemused by Mullohand drive. Though, while reading the reviews later, something at the back of my mind kept telling me a schoolboy manipulator could cook this up for fun. Like Chance Gardener and contrived meanings.
    I did have a hearty laugh at Shapiro’s sheer college-boy-horny reductionist take on Aronofsky. I’ve no qualms though( Natalie Portman and Mila Kunis, in his next, that seriously clouds any judgement of mine)
    Michael Mann: love his casting, (not much of a critical judgement I know, but nothing that exciting in his oeuvre imo).
    Martin Scorcesse. Worship Taxi Driver, maybe cause he’s like a damn-you idealistic Holden Caulfield and it feeds on my own post-teen self-imposed weltschmertz. The Departed, Cape Fear, Goodfellas, Gangs, Temptation, Casino- with decreasing level of favorable critical interest. Raging Bull- havent got round to watching it, probably from a ‘who cares’ attitude. In Scorcesse’s own words though, his films are excessively (maybe unlikable) character- focussed for my taste.
    Tarantino. well, he’s overrated- if only as a director.QT films OK stories/plots,but the sheer (for-me) exotic nature of his dialogue, his character’s portrayals/casting and interactions are a pure pleasure.
    Woody Allen, Ridley Scott. Hits and misses, ashes and diamonds, simultaneously. Annie Hall is so awesome(u cant argue with that), I turned into a neurotic Woody Allen for a month.
    Hitchcock is a genius, and one of my favorites, though having watched countless post-Hitchcock versions of his films, the responsive tension or surprise is subdued and rare. Love the classic(whatever that means), clean-at-the-surface, stylised direction of his films. His films are just so..crafted, visually written novels, efficient ‘wholesome’ dramas. effective?? not so much, at least for me.

    Having said that, director’s- all of them- are a bit overrated. From my own limited exposure, I gather noone’s oeuvre or ‘canon’ is consistent, in toto. (except Wes Anderson..maybe??)

    P.S.
    Unrelated questions-
    1. Do you admire Ayn Rand?? (re: http://markshea.blogspot.com/2009/08/some-folks-may-remember-victor-morton.html)am awed by the sheer clarity and organisation of her sometimes harsh thinking, but am bemused when i see cliques deifying her as a prophet or something.
    2. With re to this post, I can’t figure out the last paragraph viz. conservative/liberal dichotomy. So, what exactly is a ‘liberal’s’ take on authority supposed to be?? (I have to confess all this liberal/conservative b/w division stumps me. Ah well, maybe thats my Indian nuance fudging the fences)
    3. When are you putting up 2009 Skandies, love your ‘scenes’ skandies.

    Comment by Rohit | January 19, 2010 | Reply

  3. Lucid as always, and I find it revealing (although it stands to reason — never really put it together) that the canon wars / p.c. stuff would’ve been so defining for conservative intellectuals of our age bracket.

    A quibble: although I wholeheartedly agree that much of this sloppy “deconstruction” went too far in a lot of unproductive directions, I would like to think that, with benefit of distance, we might be able to remove the (productive) impulse from the (doctrinaire, self-serving) fervor.

    I suspect even the staunchest conservative intellectual would agree that Time and Knowledge are not linear pursuits and that our understanding of the past is forever being modulated and adjusted. The difference, it seems, is in degree and in relative caution vs. rapid, willy-nilly upsetting of the apple-cart (which is, I contend, also good from time to time, but whatever).

    To claim that aesthetic judgments are not 100% autonomous, that they have a sociological component, and that what qualifies as great artistic achievement shifts over time due to pressures that are not solely internal to the development of an artform’s own imperatives, does not seem at all unreasonable. The problem was when folks (quite tendentiously) reduced the aesthetic judgment to the pure folly of the social, i.e., “Here’s what the straight white male power base thinks is good.” Period. That’s just willfully dumb. But to say, wait a minute, there are social and historical reasons which have diverted us from considering (say) Zora Neale Hurston, and let’s take a look and see if this stacks up in aesthetic terms, is a different and wholly appropriate matter.

    All that having been said, I (not surprisingly) agree with you that rampant subjectivism is b******t. There are expert opinions and they count for more (provided they can explain themselves, rather than hide beneath the aegis of Pure Authority! We all must justify ourselves now and then.) The Big Hollywood problem, clearly, is that these guys believe that because the canon of cinema has been formed, by and large, by a critical and academic establishment that tilts leftward (or further) that all aesthetic judgments made by these folks are tainted tout court, the mystifying nonsense of “liberal elites.” Um, not everything comes down to politics, boys. Sometimes the evidence is right there, irrefutable, on the screen.

    Comment by msic | January 20, 2010 | Reply

  4. Rohit:

    I do not admire Ayn Rand at all, either substantively or temperamentally (she attracts the acolytes she deserves). She had, like, three insights her entire life, but one was that certain terms either were used or could only be used as taboo-markers or “capture-the-flag” rhetoric. In contemporary times “torture” is one such term. And for future reference, please do not link to Mark Shea from here. I appreciate that you asked me something directly, but his ability to understand the ideas of people who disagree with him is zero.

    The point of my last graf is that liberals’ successful assault on pretty all forms of non-rational, non-positivistic, non-government authority had disastrous consequences (the destruction of the family, for example).

    And, as always, I will post my Skandies ballot after the results are announced.

    Comment by vjmorton | January 20, 2010 | Reply

  5. Waz:

    Damn, I wish I could disagree with you more, youpinkoyou …

    Seriously, I more or less agree with everything you say. As you know, I’m not averse or allergic to post-modernism and deconstructive acts. Indeed, I think the right can usefully use them against the meta-narratives that liberals treasure — Whig and Marxist theories of historical progress, e.g. But just ranting against the cinematic canon because it includes a lot of liberals is unproductive; yes, not everything is politics.

    Perhaps the reason for the excesses of the 90s was that its motivating factor and the dominant part of the rhetorical and/or public case for it was “equality” not “enlightenment.” No sane righty opposes encouraging and/or assigning to students the Harlem Renaissance or Asian painting or the Koran, etc. Now, as a flaming reactionary, I’m free to oppose equality and say “history is what it is, can’t be undone and if that results in a disproportionate [sic] number of the important writers or composers, etc., are men or white [or gay … in principle], then so be it.” For liberals who support affirmative action or reparations, etc. — that’s not an option, so they have to dig for something else as the cause (hence the excesses).

    I think the test is — how does one react to Bellows’ question “Who is the Tolstoy of the Zulus; I would love to read him.” I would say re film, then who IS the Scorsese of the conservatives?* When he comes, I’ll be his biggest fan. But I won’t insist a priori that the Zulus MUST have a Tolstoy and conservatives MUST have a Scorsese.
    —————————–
    *Which isn’t exactly a fair comparison — I think the cinema canon has plenty for us and some of us. But it’s why I won’t pretend conservative affirmative-action movies are great.

    Comment by vjmorton | January 20, 2010 | Reply

  6. This forum’s quite an education.
    Anyways, Any good books you could recommend to broaden an understanding of cinema?? Have read a few, but they are either too specialized or too cursory in focus.
    And, is that a Saul Bellow quote in your last reply??? I have ‘Ravelstein’ with me right now…but i am a bit tentative to begin reading Bellow with his last work..

    Comment by Rohit | January 20, 2010 | Reply

  7. With re to “destruction of the family”…there’s something like TOO MUCH family, at least here, in India. Family can also be so oppressive, so obdurately baselined to supposed honor, it can stifle the spirit out of you. Me, in my present rebellious malaise, I am all for a bit of destruction….

    Comment by Rohit | January 20, 2010 | Reply

  8. I’m taking this over here simply because the IFC blog isn’t mine to run riot over and I feel uncomfortable getting into debates with people I actually know on there. And you’re right: Graham’s article doesn’t *specifically* say that. But the BH crew (and I have, like, zero idea why you like them; none of them are as cogent as you, most of them are downright awful writers, I’d maybe give an exemption to Robert Avrech and Stage Right) generally operates within a very narrow confine of talking points that underlie each post, shuffling the deck depending on the day. And one of their big ideas is that Obama is bringing “thuggery” and “Chicago-style politics” to the White House — as opposed, presumably, to the bipartisan, compromise-heavy Bush administration. A selective memory indeed. Over here on the left, I’m *definitely* of the opinion that Obama should’ve rammed the healthcare initiative down the throats of Congress while he could and just terrorized everyone LBJ style (I don’t have health care, so it’s kind of a big deal to me). Which is manifestly not what happened; he gambled on compromises that would sort themselves out for some weak brew, and he lost.

    The whole “BDS” annoys me because of its pseudo-medical connotations and because it’s out of whack. BDS worse than accusations of Clinton as sociopathic murderer et al.? Worse than Obama = Hitler? Same difference, seems to me; everyone loses on those.

    Comment by Vadim | January 21, 2010 | Reply

  9. […] Victor Morton argues that the canon is an inherently — and necessarily — conservative institution. […]

    Pingback by Judgment and Opinion - Plasma Pool | January 21, 2010 | Reply


Leave a Reply Cancel reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

« Previous | Next »

(Review Source)
VJ Morton
(”(Untitled)” is briefly mentioned in this.)

Skandie runners-up — supporting males

Hilmi Sozer (right) steals JERICHOW, especially at the end, playing the unwanted third leg in a romantic triangle someone like Mr. Dietrichson in DOUBLE INDEMNITY.

Ptolemy Slocum, (UNTITLED) — I considered him just to annoy Sicinski, as he’s playing a hilariously vicious caricature of the Bad Modern Artists whom Waz loves. Just kidding bud. Sorta.

Horst Rehberg, CLOUD 9 — Plays a 70-year-old man with a convincingly heedless, romantic (and Romantic) 20-year-old’s soul. He always has the sparkle that Ursula Werner only sometimes does — and therein lies the drama. This year was filled with “nearly” performances in German films.

Timothy Spall, THE DAMNED UNITED — Proves he doesn’t need Mike Leigh to inhabit a working-class Joe (yes … men in his position at that time weren’t filthy-rich — part of the film’s interest). And the reconciliation scene with Clough at his home doesn’t have a hint of anachronistic gayness as a result.

Peter Sarsgaard, AN EDUCATION — Why is Carey Mulligan getting all the Hosannas in Excelsis for this film? The charming villain is always the better role, and Sarsgaard oozes it like pretty pus.

Anthony Mackie, THE HURT LOCKER — After playing the enemies of Tupac Shakur and Eminem … pffft to al Qaeda in Iraq. Mackie has all the charisma needed to be a great star, and maybe his Jesse Owens and (less likely) Buddy Bolden biopics will make him one. He and Jeremy Renner nail soldiers’ ornery chemistry (most importantly, the drunken barracks carousing) without a hint of anachronistic gayness or psychopathy.

Tom Waits, THE IMAGINARIUM OF DR. PARNASSUS — Why is Heath Ledger getting all the Hosannas in Excelsis for this film (OK, besides THAT)? The charming villain is always the better role, and Waits oozes it like pretty pus.

James Gandolfini, IN THE LOOP — But here’s the opposite end. In a movie that’s all a barrage of would-be farcical “flow” (to the point of exhaustion and without being terribly funny to me — the timing was never right), Gandolfini provided the little “ebb,” the few moments of non-showing-off solidity.

Hilmi Sözer, JERICHOW — Damn. I so wanted to give JERICHOW something. May have been prevented by the fact I didn’t get a chance to see it a second time, in retrospect with full knowledge of everything including … the end … (especially considering how blown away Sicinski was by JERICHOW). Lack of a second viewing meant the film stayed a “solid 7” — and thus always on the (ahem) outside looking in. Sorry Waz. No joke.

Eli Wallach, NEW YORK, I LOVE YOU — It really takes something to stand out in an omnibus of 11 or so shorts. And something else again to be a huge star of decades ago, not rely on the instant-recognition factor, not rely on pity for the elderly. I honestly had to look him up — who played the husband in the last piece, about the love remaining between the old couple? Him? Really?

Kristyan Ferrer, SIN NOMBRE — Had to look up his name too. He’s the young kid who wants to join the teenagers trip to El Norte — for various reasons. Like Wallach, only at the other end of the life cycle, Ferrer plays a role that easily could have reduced to age-pathos  or alternatively to easy kid-brutalism (e.g. the film the people who hated CITY OF GOD imagined they saw).

Christopher Plummer, UP — Hurt to also leave out Plummer, who is having a nice late-career renaissance between this film, PARNASSUS and LAST STATION. Plummer’s also done quite a bit of voice acting lately (IIRC, Burton’s 9 and narrating THE GOSPEL OF JOHN), and ideally for this type of “Bond villain” role, he has a low, quiet but resonant voice with menace he can turn on and off.

Paul Bettany, THE YOUNG VICTORIA — I hated Lord Melbourne. That means Bettany was awesome.

(spoiler), ZOMBIELAND — It’s only a single-sequence cameo, and it very much relies on who he is. But it’s too funny and he’s too good — needed counterpoint, both to downplay Woody Harrelson’s “I can’t believe it” fanboy slobbering and to be taken aback by Abigail Breslin’s “who?” incredulity.

Advertisement
Advertisements
Report this ad
Report this ad

Like this:

Like Loading...

Related

I blame SonnyIn "Ben Shapiro"

Last Days of Jane AustenIn "Jane Austen"

Lost from the 80sIn "Bruce Weber"

February 8, 2010 - Posted by | Skandies

No comments yet.

Leave a Reply Cancel reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

« Previous | Next »

(Review Source)
PJ Media Staff
Ed Driscoll In the mid-1970s, liberals were outraged over Tom Wolfe's book, The Painted Wordfor deflating the pretensions of one of the left's then-most sacred institutions: modern art. Traditional painting and sculpture were based on two millenia of aesthetic assumptions, meaning that anyone could instantly understand the art they were looking at. Modern art eventually jettisoned traditional aesthetics to turn itself into a sort of insular game where the theory behind the art was far more important than the actual work of art itself. (Hence the title of Wolfe's book.)Or as Wolfe himself wrote in The Painted Word:And there, at last, it was!  No more realism, no more representational objects, no more lines, colors forms, and contours, no more pigments, no more brushstrokes, no more evocations, no more frames, walls, galleries, museums, no more gnawing at the tortured face of the god Flatness, no more audience required, just a "receiver" that may or may not be there at all, no more ego projected, just "the artist", in the third person, who may be anyone or no one at all, not even existence, for that got lost in the subjunctive mode--and in the moment of absolutely dispassionate abdication, of insouciant withering away, Art made its final flight, climbed higher and higher until, with one last erg of freedom, one last dendritic synapse, it disappeared up its own fundamental aperature...and came out the other side as Art Theory!...Art Theory pure and simple, words on a page, literature undefiled by vision, flat, flatter, Flattest, a vision invisible, even ineffable, as ineffable as the Angels and the Universal Souls.In the Washington Times, Sonny Bunch reviews (Untitled), which sounds like the indy motion picture equivalent of Wolfe's book -- and only 35 years later!"(Untitled)" isn't a conservative film in any narrowly doctrinaire sense of the word. It isn't a Randian broadside against "the looters" trying to implement socialized medicine. It isn't a rousing war epic in the vein of "300" or "The Longest Day." It isn't a terrible parody film that takes cheap shots against easy targets such as Michael Moore.Instead, "(Untitled)" goes after postmodernism — specifically, postmodern art.Brothers Adrian and Josh Jacobs (Adam Goldberg and Eion Bailey, respectively) are artists of different temperaments. Adrian's a sound artist whose musical arrangements include bucket-kicking and vinyl-squeaking; Josh is more successful, a painter whose compositions are less challenging than his brother's cacophonous noise but far more popular.Josh's popularity with corporate types doesn't win him what he desires, however: a showing in the avant-garde art gallery owned by Madeleine Gray (Marley Shelton). Madeleine has been content to sell his art — it keeps her afloat financially, in fact — but she refuses to show his work because it will diminish her credibility with the artiste set.Instead, she shows art that can only be described as hideous. One exhibited artist is Ray Barko (Vinnie Jones), whose work resembles a taxidermist's office by way of Derrida: Animals are stuffed and put into odd positions and splashed with makeup as a "comment" on society.Another show consists of little more than items from a home placed onto a wall. A thumb tack ("Pushpin Stuck Into Wall"), for example, or a flickering lightbulb. In the world of New York's hipster pomo set, this is what passes for art.As Josh becomes more and more frustrated by Madeleine's sensibilities, he finally blows his stack, yelling out, "When did beauty become so… ugly?""(Untitled)" is by no means a defense of banality in art, and Josh's art is nothing if not banal — his painted canvases of soothing colors dotted with the occasional sphere line the hallways of corporate meeting rooms and hospitals. Instead, "(Untitled)" searches for the midpoint between banality and absurdity, doing so in a way that is likely to please lovers of both modern and classical art.Again, this isn't a fire-breathing conservative tract. It's far more subtle than that. But it is a celebration of art and, in large part, a rejection of the turn the artistic avant-garde has taken over the last few decades.It's a relatively brave rejection at that: Those who argue that Hollywood is uniformly too timid to attack its own sacred cows would do well to recognize it. We shall see if they do.Well, count me in -- Bunch certainly makes it sound like a picture well worth checking out, unlike most of the post-1960s art at MOMA. class="pages"> https://pjmedia.com/eddriscoll/2009/11/8/the-painted-word-the-motion-picture/ ]]>
(Review Source)
10
PJ Media Staff
Ed Driscoll DUDLEY MOORE DEAD AT 66: The Washington Post is reporting that Dudley Moore, "who became an unlikely Hollywood heart-throb portraying a cuddly pipsqueak whose charm melted hearts in "10" and "Arthur," died Wednesday at his home in New Jersey, a spokeswoman said. He was 66." Moore died at 11 a.m. EST, said publicist Michelle Bega in Los Angeles. The British-born actor died of pneumonia as a complication of progressive supranuclear palsy, she said.There was more than a touch of autobiography in "10," the 1979 film in which Moore played a musician determined to marry a perfect woman. But the happy ending eluded him in real life. Four marriages ended in divorce.He confessed to being driven by feelings of inferiority about his working-class origins in Dagenham, east London, and because of his height of five feet, 2 1/2 inches. In later life he also spoke of the pain of being rejected by his mother because he was born with a deformed left foot.Moore starred in one of my favorite guilty pleasure films--"Bedazzled", a kooky British psychedelic takeoff on Faust, co-starring Moore's frequent sidekick, Peter Cook (recently remade into a surprisingly watchable, if far less silly version with Elizabeth Hurley). class="pages"> https://pjmedia.com/eddriscoll/2002/3/27/dudley-moore-dead-at-66/ ]]>
(Review Source)
Society Reviews
(”10 Cloverfield Lane” is briefly mentioned in this.)

Like many of you, I was watching Superbowl 52 (I refuse to congratulate the city of Philadelphia) and saw the trailer for The Cloverfield Paradox, a film that claims to explain the origins of the 2008 hit film Cloverfield. A secret Netflix exclusive seemed too good to pass up so I decided to do a last-minute review. For those of you who saw this trailer and thought that you were finally going to get the answers to your ten-year-old Cloverfield questions, I’m afraid you have been misled…again.

Read more →

(Review Source)
John Hanlon
Last weekend, dosage the surprise sequel to Cloverfield opened in theaters nationwide. After a few months of secrecy, 10 Cloverfield Lane opened with strong reviews and more than 24 million dollars at the box office. Although the movie has received a 90% positive rating on... <img src="http://www.johnhanlonreviews.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/03/10-Cloverfield-Lane-Reviews-270x315.jpg" type="image/jpeg"/>
(Review Source)
John Hanlon
(”10 Cloverfield Lane” is briefly mentioned in this.)
The 2016 Super Bowl has officially ended with the Denver Broncos as NFL champions. It wasn’t just the game that kept viewers interested in the proceedings though. There was a surprisingly strong halftime show and a dozen or so strong commercials that really stood out. With... <img src="http://www.johnhanlonreviews.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/02/Lady-Gaga-270x346.jpg" type="image/jpeg"/>
(Review Source)
John Hanlon
“There was an attack…A big one, buy information pills ” Howard (John Goodman), a mysterious “savior” notes near the beginning of the new film, 10 Cloverfield Lane. He’s speaking to Michelle (Mary Elizabeth Winstead), a woman who... <img src="http://www.johnhanlonreviews.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/03/10-Cloverfield-Lane-Review-105x88.jpg" type="image/jpeg"/>
(Review Source)
Michael Medved
http://www.michaelmedved.com/wp-content/uploads/10-CLOVERFIELD-LANE-mom-FINAL.mp3
(Review Source)
Plugged In
HorrorMystery/SuspenseDramaSci-Fi/Fantasy We hope this review was both interesting and useful. Please share it with family and friends who would benefit from it as well.Movie ReviewDoomsday shelters are like vacations: It sure is nice to share them with someone. Howard's shelter is as cozy and comfortable as an apocalyptic abode can be—a last-resort resort, if you will. It's got a jukebox, board games and a fully functioning kitchen. Water runs from the faucets. The lights work. The air filtration system hums quietly in the background. Howard knew the day would come when his shelter would be the envy of the masses. A place where people would die—or kill—to live in. Now, he knows, that day is here. And while he can't say exactly what brought on the end of the world—whether a military attack, an alien invasion or a natural catastrophe—there's no question that it has come. The world outside these walls (his walls) is dead or dying. "As of Friday, kindness and generosity are antiquated customs." That's what he says. But he couldn't leave Michelle out on the road to die, could he? Of course not. When he saw her there, unconscious in her wrecked car, he had to pull her out and take her home—even with the Four Horsemen bearing down on him. And so he did. It's sad to him, then, that as he patiently explains to Michelle how he saved her life—how she owes him, literally, everything—she just sits on her mattress on the floor, staring at him as if he was the bad guy. Granted, her new bedroom is a little rough, what with its cinderblock walls and heavy metal door that locks from the outside. And, yes, she's chained to the wall. But that's only temporary, he tells her. For her own safety. "What are you going to do with me?" Michelle asks. "I'm going to keep you alive," Howard tells her. He throws her the key to her shackles and walks out, shutting and locking the heavy door behind him. And Michelle is left to wonder which poses the gravest danger: the world outside … or the world within.Positive ElementsMichelle and Howard have company in this doomsday shelter: Emmett, the young man who helped Howard build the thing. And over the days and weeks that follow, he and Michelle develop a strong friendship—one that eventually forces one of them to offer up the ultimate sacrifice. While Emmett seems like a pretty all-around good guy from the get-go, Michelle grows during the course of her confinement. Before she showed up in Howard's bunker, she tended to run away from problems; by the time 10 Cloverfield Lane wraps, she's able to stand up—both literally and metaphorically—to the dangers that surround her.Spiritual ContentEmmett speaks of seeing strange lights outside that, he believes, suggest the end of the world. "Like something you read about in the Bible," he said. And Howard insists that his elaborate bunker doesn't make him crazy. "Crazy is building your ark after the flood has already come," he says.Sexual ContentHoward often compares Michelle to his daughter, Megan. He talks about her all the time and seems to want Michelle to fill the void she left in his life. But with that in mind, Howard's interest in Michelle can feel … creepy. He says, "I'm not a pervert," but he clearly feels something for the young woman … and the nature of that attraction, though it's never explicitly stated, is a central source of tension here. He warns Emmett not to touch Michelle (even after she stumbles and would've fallen otherwise) and flies into a rage when Michelle flirts with the guy. And it's worth noting that when Michelle first wakes up in the bunker, she's wearing only underwear. And her white tank top shows her bra and cleavage. Some of that might make you question Howard's relationship with his real daughter—though when asked what became of her, Howard simply says that "her mother turned her against me" and the two moved elsewhere.Recommended ResourceA Chicken's Guide to Talking Turkey With Your Kids About SexKevin LemanEven the bravest parents feel timid about discussing sex with their 8- to 14-year-olds! This resource offers reassuring, humorous, real-life anecdotes along with reliable information to help you with this challenging task.Buy NowViolent Content10 Cloverfield Lane is a mystery on a couple of different levels, and is a tense, harrowing movie with fleeting scenes of brief-but-visceral gore. While the grotesqueries we see do not technically push the PG-13 rating, they can feel worse than they look because of the movie's sometimes overwhelming intensity. [The rest of this section contains spoilers.] Michelle is knocked off the road by an unseen force, tumbling down the hillside in a jarring scene. She wakes up with an injured knee and a bloody wound on her head. She tries to stab Howard with the sharpened end of a crutch and breaks a bottle over his head. The glass cuts Howard's forehead pretty deeply, and Michelle must then stitch the guy up—an operation we see the beginning of. Howard grabs her hair and pushes her into a wall a couple of times. There are explosions. Someone is shot and killed. (We see blood on the doorframe behind the victim.) It's suggested that the body is then dissolved in a barrel of acid. That acid gets knocked over, burning the face and arms of someone terribly (and possibly contributing to death). Shelves are pushed over on top of someone. A woman pounds on the door of the shelter, her face mottled by some unknown toxin, begging to be let in. (They don't open up for her.) Dead pigs lie in their pens in the front yard, their flesh bloodied and deformed. Michelle talks about how she saw a father hit his daughter. (It reminds her of her own abusive upbringing.) There's talk of abductions and murders. And then there are the aliens. (See, I told you this section had spoilers in it!) There seem to be two extraterrestrial beasties, both very interested in devouring people and even things (like cars). They chase and threaten with their super-freaky mouths. One has a Molotov cocktail thrown down its gullet which gives it, you might say, an explosive attack of indigestion.Crude or Profane Language"Watch your language at the table," Howard scolds Emmett. And everyone seems to take those words to heart for much of the movie, even away from the table—with a few notable exceptions. There's one f-word, two s-words and one each of "b--ch," "d--n" and "h---." God's name is misused a handful of times, once with "d--n."Drug and Alcohol ContentWe see Michelle leave her husband, taking a bottle of liquor while leaving her wedding band behind. Howard drinks vodka he distilled himself, offering some to Michelle. After a sip, she discovers the concoction is disgusting and refuses any more. Emmett tells us that on the day he was supposed to leave for college, he purposefully got so drunk that he wouldn't wake up in time to catch the bus.Other Negative ElementsThe shelter's bathroom is a bit too public for Michelle's (and our) comfort. And Howard hovers close by the curtain-covered area when he forces the woman to use it.ConclusionFear is the common denominator that brought Howard, Michelle and Emmett together in the tiny doomsday bunker at 10 Cloverfield Lane. Fear drove Michelle out of her apartment and away from her husband. "We had a fight. Normal couples fight," the man tells her over the phone. But instead of dealing with the aftermath and trying to correct whatever was wrong, she fled. Emmett's fear didn't make him run. Instead he stood still because of it. A track star in high school, ironically, Emmett received a full scholarship to a nearby university. But the idea of college intimidated him, so he passed on the scholarship and never showed up. He's spent his whole life, he tells Michelle, within a 40-mile radius of home. And, of course, it was the fear of a worldwide cataclysm that inspired Howard to build the bunker in the first place. 10 Cloverfield Lane plays on our fears, too—the fear of the unknown, right along with the terror of what we know all too well. This is a horror movie, both intimate and sprawling in scope. And as a horror movie, it works. It works too well, perhaps. And in doing so it proves two important points: First, you don't need a lot of explicit content to make a grip-the-armrest-'til-your-knuckles-turn-white kind of movie. It pulls you in because of the way it feels more than what it shows. There's nothing inherently problematic about seeing a vat of acid or a scratched word on a window, after all. It's what these images suggest—what they threaten—that digs at us. Second, it reminds us that an entertainment's problematic content isn't always the easy-to-decipher litmus test we might like it to be. 10 Cloverfield Lane has less actual content than your average superhero movie. But while I know lots of parents who wouldn't blink at taking their 10 year olds to see an Iron Man movie, this is another psychological story entirely.Pro-social ContentObjectionable ContentSummary AdvisoryPlot SummaryChristian BeliefsOther Belief SystemsAuthority RolesProfanity/ViolenceKissing/Sex/HomosexualityDiscussion TopicsAdditional Comments/NotesEpisode Reviews]]>
(Review Source)
Plugged In
When one of your movie’s main stars is an animated rabbit, it makes sense, that the movie itself might hop the competition. Zootopia did just that this weekend. Disney’s latest animated adventure corralled an estimated $50 million, making the movie’s second weekend win a no-doubter. Zootopia has already grossed $142.6 million in North America in just 10 days, and it’s doing even better abroad: It’s earned more than $430 million worldwide. That’s a lot of carrots. Perhaps if newcomer 10 Cloverfield Lane featured a tortoise somewhere, it might’ve had a chance of beating the fleet-footed Zootopia. Alas, there was no room for pets of any kind in the movie’s creepy apocalyptic bunker, which doomed the Cloverfield spinoff to a second-place, $25.2 million finish. But the flick could hang around for a while, given its glowing secular reviews. Like the movie’s bunker, it was built for the long haul. Deadpool continues to make money hand over bloody fist, banking $10.8 million to hold third place for the second straight week. Or, at least, that’s what it looks like right now. London Has Fallen, with its $10.7 million weekend take, trails the snide superhero by just $100,000—a mere pittance in Hollywoodland. Meanwhile, Whiskey Tango Foxtrot collected $4.6 million to keep a trio of new movies outside the Top Five. The Perfect Match was the closest to breaking into the bunch, collecting $4.2 million in matching funds. The Young Messiah—the second major faith-based movie to come out this year—couldn’t match the strong performance of Risen and finished seventh with $3.4 million. And The Brothers Grimsby, Sacha Baron Cohen’s over-the-top gross-out comedy, was ironically a gross-earnings flop. It earned just $3.2 million to sulk into eighth place. Final figures update: 1. Zootopia, $51.3 million; 2. 10 Cloverfield Lane, $24.7 million; 3. Deadpool, $10.9 million; 4. London Has Fallen, $10.8 million; 5. Whiskey Tango Foxtrot, $4.7 million; 6. The Perfect Match, $4.3 million; 7. The Young Messiah, $3.3 million; 8. The Brothers Grimsby, $3.3 million. ]]>
(Review Source)
Plugged In
Foxes live, on average, about five years. Wild rabbits—depending, of course, on the number of foxes in the neighborhood—typically live three. At this rate, it’s possible Zootopia might survive in theaters longer than both of its stars. OK, so Zootopia has a ways to go for that to happen. Still, you can’t quibble with its run. Disney’s latest animated feature hopped to the top of the weekend’s box office for the third straight week, bounding to an estimated $38 million. Yessir, Zootopia has been cinematic gold for the Mouse House—a 24-carrot success, if you will. This was not how the weekend was supposed to play out, not with The Divergent Series rolling out its third film, Allegiant, to the masses. After all, the franchise’s first two installments—2014’s Divergent and 2015’s Insurgent—made $54.6 million and $52.3 million in their respective debut weekends. And while perhaps a little drop could be anticipated, few expected Allegiant to make a mere $29.1 million in its first three days. And with the final film still set to wheeze into theaters next summer, it looks as though The Divergent Series may have a dystopian future in store for itself. News was better for the faith-based moviemakers of Miracles From Heaven. The Jennifer Garner-helmed Christian movie outperformed studio estimates, earning $15 million over the weekend. Add to that the cash it made on Wednesday and Thursday, and Miracles now sits at $18.6 million for its still-short run—not exactly a miraculous haul, perhaps, but already higher than its reported $13 million budget. Two holdovers closed out the weekend’s Top Five. 10 Cloverfield Lane locked itself into the fourth-place slot with $12.5 million, barring the doors from any would-be encroachers. And Deadpool has proved as durable as its titular character, earning another $8 million. Deadpool has now made (gulp) $340.9 million, making it the year’s biggest movie by far and cementing it as the superhero genre’s eighth-biggest moneymaker in history (not adjusted for inflation, of course). ‘Course, both Zootopia and Deadpool may get a little taste of kryptonite next weekend, when a couple of other superheroes come to town. Final figures update: 1. Zootopia, $37.2 million; 2. The Divergent Series: Allegiant, $29 million; 3. Miracles from Heaven, $14.8 million; 4. 10 Cloverfield Lane, $12.5 million; 5. Deadpool, $8 million. ]]>
(Review Source)