Kinematoscope

It’s finally time- a relatively anticlimactic Oscar season is still littered with a few tight races, and there’s always the fun business of predicting the odd categories I know nothing about at all.  Many thanks to Dave for the alternate viewpoints for all of Oscar week, and for listing all the nominees in his picks post, because I didn't bother.

First, let’s blitz through the categories where I’ve seen none of the films. My analysis is largely based on whatever trailers are on YouTube. So you know, you can take them to the bank!

Best Documentary Feature: Man On Wire

I used to see a lot of docs, but I saw none this year. I blame Landmark cinemas for hardly getting them anymore. Man On Wire is the only one in the group with any buzz that I’ve seen out there.

Best Documentary Short: The Witness From The Balcony of Room 306

This category is almost always four for four completely depressing- this year we have dramatically similar docs about polio still holding on in the third world (The Final Inch) and cleft palates in rural India (Smile Pinki) duking it out to sadden us with the tale of a photographer of record in a Cambodian death camp (The Conscious Of Nhem En). But I think they’ll lose to The Witness From The Balcony of Room 306, a well-timed shot about the last surviving witness to Martin Luther King, Jr.’s assassination.

Best Animated Short: La Maison En Petits Cubes

Pixar (Presto) is becoming so good it’s passé, Lavatory Lovestory looks cute but sparse, This Way Up and Oktopodi are disposable CGI numbers, so I pick what looks like a beautiful hand-drawn piece in La Maison En Petits Cubes. The only year I saw the shorts I still missed this category, so I’ve learned to go with your gut and not worry about it.

Best Live Action Short: Spielzugland

I’d rundown each film, but I have two words for this choice: Holo. Caust.

Mark it down.

Best Foreign Language Film: Waltz With Bashir

And finally, a film shafted for Animated and Documentary (depending on who you ask) should win Foreign language. Now let’s get to the categories where I can have real opinions about stuff!

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Best Original Song:

Will win: “Jai Ho” – Slumdog Millionaire
Should win: “Down To Earth” – Wall-E

Hey did you know there’s this thing called “Bollywood”? It’s like Hollywood, but for India! I know, how adorable is that? They even sing and dance at the end of the movies. If only we could give an Oscar to the adorable singing and dancing somehow!

Best Original Score:

Will Win: A. R. Rahman, Slumdog Millionaire
Should Win: Thomas Newman, Wall-E

Don’t really remember much from any of the five nominated scores, to be honest. I can’t really think of a moment in Slumdog that wasn’t a more defined music video sequence with a full song. And I’ve watched it a bunch, sure, but all I have to do is think of the line “Computer: define ‘dancing’” to hear Newman’s dreamy score.

Best Achievement in Sound:

Will Win, Should Win: Wall-E - Tom Myers, Michael Semanick, Ben Burtt

Best Achievement in Sound Editing:

Will Win, Should Win: Wall-E – Ben Burtt, Matthew Wood

I’m not worried about what the guilds say- last year these statues went where they should, and I think Wall-E is a revolutionary sonically made film. I mean, there’s just no way a just god would give Slumdog Millionaire NINE Oscars, right?

Right?

Best Achievement in Visual Effects:

Will Win, Should Win: The Curious Case Of Benjamin Button – Barba/Preeg/Dalton/Barron

Best Achievement in Makeup:

Will Win, Should Win: The Curious Case Of Benjamin Button – Greg Cannom

No question that Brad Pitt’s radical transformation from geriatric infant to teen heart-throb takes both of these statues.

Best Achievement in Costume Design:

Will Win: The Duchess – Michael O’Connor
Should Win: meh.

I guess, from a technical standpoint, period costumes are impressive to pull off, but isn’t the whole point sort of that they could make them 200 years ago just as well? Could they make a Batsuit back then? No? Then where’s that nomination?

Best Achievement in Art Direction:

Will Win, Should Win: The Dark Knight – Nathan Crowley, Peter Lando

I say that since this is arguably the most pretigious category The Dark Knight doesn’t share with Slumdog (sorry, sound categories), then this will be where people reward it. Button is the favorite, but Art Direction never really follows the crowd.

Best Achievement in Editing:

Will Win: Slumdog Millionaire – Chris Dickens
Should Win: The Dark Knight – Lee Smith

Here, however, will be the last giant, flashing sign that Slumdog is our inevitable champ. Oh well.

Best Achievement in Cinematography:

Will Win, Should Win: The Dark Knight – Wally Pfister

You know what, though? Screw Slumdog mania! This category burns me every time I go with the consensus, so I say Slumdog loses this one and misses the sweep by three, not just the sound awards. So there.

Best Animated Pixar Film (I mean, Animated Feature):

Will Win, Should Win: Wall-E

I kind of want a pet cockroach. That’s all I got here. Now, time for the big eight!

Best Writing, Screenplay Written Directly For The Screen:

Will Win: Dustin Lance Black, Milk
Should Win: Martin McDonagh, In Bruges

Black is essentially winning for having the wherewithal to complete his script independently and stick with it until he got it to the right people’s attention, after many other previous attempts to dramatize Harvey Milk’s life floundered. The script itself is pretty traditional, though.

Best Writing, Screenplay Based on Material Previously Produced or Published:

Will Win: Simon Beaufoy, Slumdog Millionaire
Should Win: meh.

Can’t say I really care for any of the five, not to an Oscar level. I wonder if you could guess which film I would’ve given it to instead?

Best Performance By An Actress in a Supporting Role:

Will Win, Should Win: Amy Adams, Doubt

Here’s a poorly researched, random theory I came up with: when one supporting category is a complete lock, the other category goes rogue. See: last year (Bardem was certain, Swinton surprised) and the year before (Hudson was a safe bet, Arkin was a shocker). So I say Amy Adams takes it, my favorite of the five.

Best Performance By An Actor in a Supporting Role:

Will Win, Should Win: Heath Ledger, The Dark Knight

You know the thing about chaos? It’s fair.

Best Performance By An Actress In A Leading Role:

Will Win: Kate Winslet, The Reader
Should Win: Anne Hathaway, Rachel Getting Married

Don’t get me started.

Best Performance By An Actor in a Leading Role:

Will Win: Mickey Rourke, The Wrestler
Should Win: Can’t Rourke and Penn tie?

Seriously, I personally can’t choose, but I justed changed my pick back to Rourke, after waffling several times.  If Penn wins, I'm throwing something at a wall.

Best Achievement In Directing:

Will Win: Danny Boyle, Slumdog Millionaire
Should Win: David Fincher, The Curious Case Of Benjamin Button

I thought, as Dave said, there was a second director on Slumdog? What happened there? But if we’re talking achievement, Button is clearly a more controlled vision than Boyle’s breathless fairy-tale.

Best Motion Picture of The Year:

Will Win: Slumdog Millionaire
Should Win: The Curious Case Of Benjamin Button

Of the options given to me (okay, I’ll let it go), Button would get my vote. But it’s Slumdog fever these days, even if saying that in the slums of Mumbai might get you killed.

I really, upon writing this out, didn’t feel as enthusiastic about making picks as last year (a year with multiple classics that, importantly, were mostly duly honored by the Academy). But I’m sure I’ll feel the drama before each announcement before tomorrow night.

And if I get 20 out of 24 right I’ll be super enthused. Just watch.

Best Documentary (Full Length):

The Betrayal
Encounters at the End of the World
The Garden
Man on Wire
Trouble the Water

Who Will Win: Man on Wire
Who Should Win: Man on Wire

Should I act indignant and say, “Yeah, Man on Wire all the way. I totally saw it. Like, totally.”

Best Foreign Language Film:

Der Baader Meinhof Komplex
Entre les Murs
Revanche
Okuribito
Vals Im Bashir

Who Will Win: Vals Im Bashir
Who Should Win: Vals Im Bashir

Vals Im Bashir should win solely for the fact that the film’s director, Ari Folman, is having a contest for people to write his Oscar speech. That and the movie looks pretty trippy.

Best Documentary – Short Subject:

The Conscience of Nhem En
The Final Inch
Smile Pinki
The Witness from the Balcony of Room 306

Who Will Win: The Witness from the Balcony of Room 306
Who Should Win: The Witness from the Balcony of Rom 306

Calling it.

Best Short Film – Animated:

La Maison en Petits Cubes
Ubornaya Istoryia
Oktapodi
Presto
This Way Up

Who Will Win: Presto
Who Should Win: Oktapodi

Presto will win because it’s a Pixar Year. I want to see Oktapodi win because I want Keanu Reeves to try and pronounce that.

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Best Short Film – Live Action:

Auf der Strecke
Manon Sur le Bitume
New Boy
Grisen
Spielzeugland

Who Will Win: New Boy
Who Should Win: Spielzeugland

New Boy will win because it is the only one that anyone can pronounce.

Best Animated Feature:

Bolt
Kung Fu Panda
Wall-E

Who Will Win: Wall-E
Who Should Win: Wall-E

Thanks for playing, Bolt and Kung Fu Panda.

Best Visual Effects:

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
The Dark Knight
Iron Man

Who Will Win: The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
Who Should Win: The Dark Knight

The digital wizardry of Button will take home the trophy, but the practical effects of The Dark Knight were something to truly behold.

Best Sound Editing:

The Dark Knight
Iron Man
Slumdog Millionaire
Wall-E
Wanted

Who Will Win: Slumdog Millionaire
Who Should Win: Wall-E

Let the Slumdog juggernaut begin.

Best Sound:

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
The Dark Knight
Slumdog Millionaire
Wall-E
Wanted

Who Will Win: Wall-E
Who Should Win: Wall-E

From what I understand, this category is about the creation of sound, which means it has to go to Wall-E. Right? Dave Karger says if Slumdog wins here it would be an upset. So, it has to be Wall-E, right?

Best Song:

“Down to Earth” – Wall-E
“Jai Ho” – Slumdog Millionaire
“O Saya” – Slumdog Millionaire

Who Will Win: “Jai Ho” – Slumdog Millionaire
Who Should Win: “Down to Earth” – Wall-E

At this point in my show, Wall-E is turning into a juggernaut. Anyway, Slumdog will take it because it is high energy and a feel good song that is getting radio play.

Best Score:

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button – Alexandre Desplat
Defiance – James Newton Howard
Milk – Danny Elfman
Slumdog Millionaire – A. R. Rahman
Wall-E – Thomas Newman

Who Will Win: Slumdog Millionaire – A. R. Rahman
Who Should Win: The Curious Case of Benjamin Button – Alexandre Desplat

While Rahman’s score was one of the highlights of Slumdog, I feel that Desplat’s score was more poignant and elegant.

Best Make Up:

The Curious of Benjamin Button
The Dark Knight
Hell Boy II: The Golden Army

Who Will Win: The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
Who Should Win: The Dark Knight

When you make an iconic face – see The Joker – you should be rewarded over scale. Too bad the Academy does not share my sentiment.

Best Costume Design:

Australia
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
The Duchess
Milk
Revolutionary Road

Who Will Win: The Duchess
Who Should Win: Revolutionary Road

Pretty.

Best Art Direction:

Changeling
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
The Dark Knight
The Duchess
Revolutionary Road

Who Will Win: The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
Who Should Win: Revolutionary Road

Even prettier.

Best Editing:

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
The Dark Knight
Frost/Nixon
Milk
Slumdog Millionaire

Who Will Win: Slumdog Millionaire
Who Should Win: The Dark Knight

Action movies that aptly build tension have been rewarded in the past, like The Bourne Ultimatum last year. However, this will factor into the Best Picture race, inevitably knocking The Dark Knight out.

Best Cinematography:

Changeling
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
The Dark Knight
The Reader
Slumdog Millionaire

Who Will Win: Slumdog Millionaire
Who Should Win: The Dark Knight

I missed this category last year and was stunned. The dizzying work of Slumdog will beat out The Dark Knight’s technological marvel.

Best Adapted Screenplay:

Simon Beaufoy – Slumdog Millionaire
David Hare – The Reader
Peter Morgan – Frost/Nixon
Eric Roth and Robin Swicord – The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
John Patrick Shanley – Doubt

Who Will Win: Simon Beaufoy – Slumdog Millionaire
Who Should Win: David Hare – The Reader

Let my Reader juggernaut begin!

Best Original Screenplay:

Dustin Lance Black – Milk
Courtney Hunt – Frozen River
Mike Leigh – Happy-Go-Lucky
Martin McDonagh – In Bruges
Andrew Stanton, Pete Docter, and Jim Reardon – Wall-E

Who Will Win: Dustin Lance Black – Milk
Who Should Win: Martin McDonagh – In Bruges

Are you f-**-king deft? Yeah?

Best Direction:

Danny Boyle – Slumdog Millionaire
Stephen Daldry – The Reader
David Fincher – The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
Ron Howard – Frost/Nixon
Gus Van Sant – Milk

Who Will Win: Danny Boyle – Slumdog Millionaire
Who Should Win: Stephen Daldry – The Reader

I am still baffled by this co-director credit for Danny Boyle. So, Daldry gets my vote for his touching film.

Best Supporting Actress:

Amy Adams – Doubt
Penelope Cruz – Vicky Christina Barcelona
Viola Davis – Doubt
Tareji Hanson – The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
Marisa Tomei – The Wrestler

Who Will Win: Penelope Cruz – Vicky Christina Barcelona
Who Should Win: Viola Davis – Doubt

Cruz will win because she is liked and due, but Davis’ performance was stirring.

Best Supporting Actor:

Josh Brolin – Milk
Robert Downey Jr. – Tropic Thunder
Phillip Seymour Hoffman – Doubt
Heath Ledger – The Dark Knight
Michael Shannon – Revolutionary Road

Who Will Win: Heath Ledger – The Dark Knight
Who Should Win: Heath Ledger – The Dark Knight

Bet the house, the barn, your children.

Best Actress:

Anne Hathaway – Rachel Getting Married
Angelina Jolie - Changeling
Melissa Leo – Frozen River
Meryl Streep – Doubt
Kate Winslet – The Reader

Who Will Win: Kate Winslet – The Reader
Who Should Win: Kate Winslet – The Reader

Long overdue for the best performance of the year.

Best Actor:

Richard Jenkins – The Visitor
Frank Langella – Frost/Nixon
Sean Penn – Milk
Brad Pitt – The Curious Case of Benjamin Button

Mickey Rourke – The Wrestler

Who Will Win: Sean Penn – Milk
Who Should Win: Mickey Rourke – The Wrestler

This is the closest category. It is a toss up between Penn and Rourke. I give Penn the edge because of past history, the statement the film makes, and the Academy’s fear of Rourke’s acceptance speech.

Best Picture:

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
Frost/Nixon
Milk
The Reader
Slumdog Millionaire

Who Will Win: Slumdog Millionaire
Who Should Win: The Reader

And the lowest rated telecast ever is completed with Slumdog Millionaire winning it all with a grand total of eight. I will not proceed to take a shower.

Ironic that I am about to defend a movie which contains a trial.

I am a huge fan of The Reader. I saw it multiple times. I purchased the soundtrack. I read the book – though that was before the movie came out. I think it deserves any accolades it receives, I feel that it should have received more Academy Award nominations, and I feel that it will be rewarded on Oscar Night. I thought so well of it, I placed it in the two spot on my top ten of the year.

However, The Reader has been met with much criticism and tends to divide people into “love it” or “hate it” categories. While it is understandable that people will not have the same reaction to a film, has a film in recent memory been so polarizing? Why do people take great issue with the film?

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One issue that I discussed is the ambiguity that exists in the film and how it makes Germans seem less culpable for their crimes during World War II. Ron Rosenbaum and Rob Lurie saw that film is a “revisionist” (Rosenbaum, 2009) account of Germany during and post-World War II. Rosenbaum critiques Hanna as being overly “sympathetic” (Rosenbaum, 2009) and chastises Daldry’s depiction of nudity in the film.

Rosenbaum goes on to call The Reader “the worst Holocaust film ever made” (Rosenbaum, 2009). His concern about a New York Times article depicting Hanna as someone who overcomes a disability is not without merit because of a poorly constructed page layout by the Times.

I found Rosenbaum’s treatment of The Reader to be overly harsh. He does not like the film, which is fine with me. I wholly understand that every film is not going to be enjoyed by all. I understand that Mr. Rosenbaum read the film much differently than I did. However, what I find hurtful and negligent on his behalf is the use of hyperbole – he called The Boys in the Striped Pajamas “the worst Holocaust film ever made” earlier this year and he called Life Is Beautiful “disgusting” upon its release ten years ago – and the fact that he does not mention countering viewpoints in his article. That is his editorial decision, but I find the argument poorly constructed because he also proclaims that Hanna’s character would not be able to exist because SS Propaganda was distributed through Der Stϋrmer, making it impossible for Hanna to be illiterate (Rosenbaum, 2009). His argument is undermined by Rob Lurie who acknowledges that there might have been circumstances allowing for a few Hannas to be illiterate and function in the SS (Lurie, 2009).

A few days after Rosenbaum’s article, Rob Lurie wrote an article for The Huffington Post where he takes issue with The Reader. Lurie’s article works much better because he engages opposing viewpoints and makes some concessions. Lurie acknowledges the film as “well made” (Lurie, 2009) and finds Winslet and Kross’ performances “nuanced” and “well developed” (Lurie, 2009).

Lurie’s concern was that film would give “ammunition to Holocaust nay-sayers” (Lurie, 2009) and the omission of the “postwar awareness” (Lurie, 2009) affects the outcome of the film.

While I disagree with Lurie’s initial concern about The Reader becoming a flag-bearer for Holocaust doubters, I find his concern about the film’s omission of Hanna reading Holocaust Literature – as her character does in the novel – compelling.

I find the omission acceptable. The film is attempting to get away from the novel in some respects for thematic purposes. Perhaps it was best summarized by Erica Abeel of IndieWire. In an interview with Stephen Daldry regarding the film, she states: “Rather than viewing it as inferior or equal to its source material, it deserves to be viewed simply as a freestanding creation: provocative and likely to divide viewers, affecting, and exquisitely filmed in hues that capture the quality of memory.” (Abeel, 2009) This statement coincides with the concept that Daldry, David Hare, and Bernard Schlink were going for. Schlink said that, “voiceovers are a cop out” (Abeel, 2009) and worked extensively with Daldry in Hare in creating the film.

Though there was a disagreement, the omission of Hanna reading the works of Primo Levi and other Holocaust survivors (more on this later), Schlink is happy with the end product and has been on tour promoting the film. If the author of the book is content with the changing of the message – which took persuading from Daldry and Hare based on the notion that the viewer will arrive in the same location of the reader of his book – then why is the audience allowed to take issue with it? The author ultimately gave his blessing, allowing for the omission of Holocaust literature because the book and film are not actually Holocaust works.

Schlink himself has said the novel is about “German guilt” (Rotten Tomatoes, 2009) and Brad Brevet eloquently explains that “The Reader is not a Holocaust movie” (Brevet, 2009). The film is about moral dilemmas that must be resolved between people and within people.

The film is about two people who cannot identify with who they are, come to terms with who they are, and are adversely affected by it. Hanna’s illiteracy is not solely lacking the ability to read. Abeel and Brevet stated in their articles that her illiteracy is compounded by her inability to express herself and that she is “emotionally illiterate” (Abeel, 2009) as well. This internal confusion and fear that resides within Hanna is superbly drawn out by Winslet’s haunting performance.

However, Winslet is not the only character with issues. Michael lacks the maturity in the first two acts of the film and the emotional capacity in the last act to define himself. Early on in the film, Michael loves Hanna after merely three weeks. Yet, that love is actually reciprocated by Hanna, and not just through sexual means. Michael gives a teary speech where he says, “I can’t live without you. The thought of you leaving kills me. Do you love me?” It was not until the second time that I noticed it, but Hanna nods. Again, she is crippled by her inability to come to terms with her emotions, yet Michael’s are so manic because of his lack of worldly experience.

The middle act shows Hanna again being unable to cope with the internal conflict that resides inside of her. She cannot face having the world know she is illiterate. While Rosenbaum was quick to equivocate, “She would rather go to prison for murdering 300 people than admitting she cannot read” (Rosenbaum, 2009). Brevet points out that Rosenbaum’s article is “filled with such snarky, passivity, and deep seeded hatred” (Brevet, 2009) that he is not watching the film and attempting to judge it on its merits. The message the film conveys is not as blunt or trivial as Rosenbaum would have the reader believe, but about “German guilt” (Rotten Tomatoes, 2009) as Daldry, Hare, and Schlink have stated.

To summarize it, The Reader is truly not meant to be viewed as a Holocaust film. If someone views it as such, the film will fail her or him.

Roger Ebert pondered,

“Is The Reader a Holocaust movie? No. In terms of its two central characters, it is a movie about lacking the courage to speak when we should. That’s something I think we all can identify with.” (Ebert, 2009)

Mr. Ebert, who I have a tumultuous relationship/understanding with, put it simply what the movie is meant to be about.

I think the movie is technologically sound and well-crafted. The cinematography, art direction, and costumes are top notch. I felt Nico Muhly’s score was egregiously overlooked during the nomination process because it is the most beautiful score of 2008. I feel that Daldry’s direction is purposeful, method, and has achieves a grand level of success. More over, I feel that Winslet’s performance was nothing short of stellar.

Claudia Puig of USAToday wrote in her review of The Reader that “a tale of eroticism, secrecy, and guilt is bound to stir discussion” (Puig, 2009). The filmmakers have achieved this by the praise and criticism the film has received.

My concern is that people are too often looking for the superficial when it comes to a film because they want to escape. Like Lena Olin says in The Reader “if you seek catharsis, go to the theatre.” However, most people want to be entertained. I will admit The Reader will not have the same thrills as The Dark Knight. It will not have the feel good story that Slumdog Millionaire has. The Reader offers an exploration into human emotion: how we connect, disconnect, lie, do not do the right thing, feel guilty, and feel remorseless. Sometimes that can be more profound than anything else, the identification with another on film because that may be how we feel too.

I am not trying to equivocate all this in direct comparison with the Holocaust because, again, The Reader is not about the Holocaust. I am not trivializing the “greatest trauma of the 20th century” (Spiegelman, 1998) by making it seem simple. I speak about the content of a book and film and how the two central characters in it can be made people that an audience can identify with.

In the end, The Reader does leave the viewer with a lot of questions, but they are the types of questions that have a great affect on the viewer.

I thought I might, on the eve of the Oscars, try and explicate why. The Fall is a film about an injured early-twentieth-century stuntman in a hospital, telling a fairy-tale adventure story to a little girl who's broken her arm. The story, about six exotic travelers seeking revenge upon a villain named Governor Odious, is depicted in a series of lavishly stylish visions.

Now, personally, that decription was enough to buy a ticket- I was intrigued by director Tarsem (Singh)'s visual flair in The Cell, even if I found the film itself a little ridiculous, and I love fairy-tales, Lee Pace (the stuntman, and the star of Pushing Daisies) and the silent-movie era. And I was dissapointed on none of those counts.

But The Fall is much, much more than just pretty to look at.

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Every now and then there are certain films that hit you in the right mood, or the right moment in your life to affect you in a certain way, and The Fall is one of those films. I wasn't immediately overwhelmed after I say it in late May 2008- I liked it alot, but it develops slowly, and some of the little girl's lines are hard to catch (Catinca Untaru is from Romania, and The Fall is her first film).

It wasn't until the second and third times through, on DVD, that I really started to love it. The interplay of the real world and the fantasy are brilliantly subtle- the six heroes of the story all appear in the real world, but not in a sort of Wizard Of Oz "And you were there!" sort of way. The ordlerly wearing protective gear to go in the X-Ray room becomes a model for Odious's evil henchmen, a toy elephant become the way for the adventurers to get off an island (after no ship appears, because Alexandria, the girl, decides she doesn't want to hear a pirate story).

It's not only a great story, it becomes a film about the reasons we tell stories and the things they about the storyteller. Roy (Pace) didn't exactly botch a stunt, it turns out- he was attempting to commit suicide after his girlfriend, an actress, left him for the star of the film he was working on. The twist is that he tells the story to Alexandria to trick her into getting him morphine to finish what he started.

Eventually the entire deception comes to a head, and the end of the story turns into a macabre descent into depression, that of course only the little girl can save him from. It sounds a bit trite, but damn it, I choke up every time, mostly thanks to Pace's fine work near the films conclusion.

Also, the more I watch it, the more I love the subtle motif of falling, and the meaning of the title- fortunately, none of the levels the title works on are biblical, however. It's more about personal falls and rises, the reality of the immigrant class (Alexandria fell helping her mother pick oranges), and a sort of ode to early cinema stunt people for risking their lives before trick photography and CGI.

Speaking of which, Tarsem has insisted that there is not a single CGI environment or landscape in The Fall, which makes the film all the more impressive. Filmed in over 26 locations in 18 countries, the film is a travelogue to the exotic and majestic, well more than most of us could visit ourselves in a lifetime.

The only special effects I can definitely point to are a few bravura transitions between the real world or between fantastic locations in the story: a butterly pinned in a case slowly because an island at sea, the stony glare of an evil priest abruptly becomes the harsh desert landscape, or spilled coffee in the real world become the blood-soaked shroud of the Masked Bandit's brother (The Masked Bandit is the story within the story's main protagonist, and he begins as Alexandria's father, but later becomes Roy himself).

It's these sort of shots that really make The Fall a wonder. I like to fancy myself something of a storyteller, and nothing makes me smile like the way that Roy's story begins:

ROY: Okay, close your eyes. What do you see?

ALEXANDRIA: (after a pause) Nothing.

ROY: Rub them. (she does) Can you see the stars?

And the film immediately cuts to a starry filled sky, over a white island on a calm sea.

Okay, do me a favor- watch the very beginning here:



Does that not look awesome? Need more? Okay, go here and watch the introduction of one of Roy's adventurers- a fictionalized version of English Naturalist Charles Darwin, but watch the whole thing because it has the awesome butterfly/island transition. If those two clips don't make you want to see The Fall, I can't do anything for you.

But trust me: rent it from Netflix. Buy it from Amazon.

Actually? F*ck it!- go to Bittorrent.com, download and install the Bittorrent program, then go here and click Download this Torrent! If you leave your computer online for a while, you'll have The Fall for free, in an .AVI file that will play in Windows Media Player or its equivalent.  (if your conscience is troubled, after it downloads you can easily got to Start> Programs> Bittorrent> Uninstall and no one will ever know).

That's right, I am literally advocating breaking the law so you can see this film (or if you know me personally, ask me to borrow the DVD)- chances are a high percentage of anyone who does that will want to buy it for real money eventually, or at least tell other people about it.

Because it's that awesome. Or at least, I love it that much. That is all.

Part Five of a Five Part series previewing the Best Picture nominees.

I have a love-hate relationship with Roger Ebert’s work. It is really more hate than love, but he does make some statements that I completely agree with. Pulp Fiction was the Best Picture of 1994? Agreed. However, he does make some ridiculous ones as well that leave me shaking my head in disbelief. When I read Ebert’s proclamation that "Slumdog Millionaire was the Best Picture of the year and will undoubtedly receive a lot of attention come Oscar time." I found myself skeptical and weary of that statement, especially after reading a synopsis of the film.

So, the expectations were very high when I saw the film on rather crowded opening night at the Downer Theatre on Milwaukee's east side.

After seeing the film, I walked away from Slumdog Millionaire looking for greatness. As a stand alone movie it is good, but it was not great. The intangibles that make so many movies great – a fantastic performance, the dialogue, music, whatever – were not present. How could this movie fail to live up to the hype even though it had received near universal acclaim?

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Is the soundtrack electrifying? Yes, one of the ten best of the year. A. R. Rahman’s score is high energy when it needs to be, somber at the right moments, and has some great songs. Danny Boyle’s love for music is evident in his willingness to let Rahman compose and perform the music.

How about the performances in the film? They left me unmoved to the point that I was glad when they finally moved from the small children to the teenagers merely because it was something new. Admittedly, I found Dev Patel’s wide-eyed, innocent performance fun, but I think it loses some value for me because he – as in Dev Patel – is experiencing through the actual experience of making a feature film. The small children? Cute at times, though I felt like the children were not being allowed to act. The teenagers? Indifferent. If you are going to have rambunctious, murdering teenagers, take a page out of the City of God playbook. I almost wanted to laugh when a teenage boy shots a man in the head during a confrontation. I just was not buying it.

The cinematography was good in the film. I felt that it does not merit a place among the best of the year, but it was very good considering the array of the color palate the film was working with.

What about Danny Boyle’s direction? Out of the five Best Picture nominees this year, this film clearly has its director’s fingerprints all over it. You can almost feel Danny Boyle’s energy on the screen. However, how much of it was really him? If he co-directed the film with a person from India, while on location in India, how much of it is really him? I want to believe that it is him – all of it – but I wonder. The DGA is usually so critical of directors who attempt to do co-directed pieces. In 2005, when Robert Rodriguez said he wanted to give Frank Miller a co-direction credit on Sin City, the DGA told him, “No.” Rodriguez ended up quitting from the guild because of the politics and rigid rules. So, how does Slumdog work its way around that?

Is there anything that I actually enjoyed, aside from the music and camerawork? I enjoyed Simon Beaufoy’s script. I think it was a good adaptation, I think that is worked to the best of its abilities.

To me, the movie fails to live up to the hype and it falls short of great. It services as a functional film that screams to the audience, “Hey! Do you know about India? No!? Well, here you go!” It focuses on the stringent caste system of India, which is enlightening, but not revelatory. Class systems have existed and still do exist, so for people to call it “searing” is a bit over the top. The movie seems mesmerized by incorporating the Taj Mahal, but then turning the rest of the country into stereotypical Asian mainland – bustling, crowded, polluted.

In ten years, people will reflect upon these Oscars. I think this award season – not the show itself, but the season – will remain in everyone’s mind for two reasons: One, the lack of The Dark Knight in consideration for Best Picture, Best Director, etc. Two, the fact that Slumdog Millionaire has not aged very well as a Best Picture winner. I feel that anyone of the other nominees, save Frost/Nixon, will have aged and matured better than Slumdog Millionaire. The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, Milk, and The Reader may be remembered for their faults, their performances, and a slew of other ideas, but they will have aged better.

It is like reflecting on the 1997 Oscars. Sure, Titanic may have been the Best Picture of that year, but was it really? In hindsight, and some separation, was L.A. Confidential not the Best Picture of that year? Was the Academy just swept up on Titanic fever? Probably, but that becomes completely irrelevant once James Cameron proclaims that he is “king of the world!”

So, when Danny Boyle and Christian Colston claim the top prize on Sunday, I hope they do not make such a condemning statement. That is the only advice I can give them on their undeserved juggernaut.

And usually, the grand vistas and atmosphere of New York City will figure prominently. Allen returned to film there for the upcoming Wherever Works (which co-star Evan Rachel Wood insists "It's very classic Woody Allen but it's still different than anything he's done,” somewhat paradoxically) after a four-film jaunt to Europe. But nowhere is Allen’s pure adulation for the Big Apple more fervent than in 1979’s Manhattan, a best original screenplay nominee.

The Key Players:

Woody Allen. It was 39 films directed, by the way, which only leaves 33 more to watch until I perfect my nebbishness. (Mostly I just want to eventually see The Purple Rose Of Cairo, Sleeper, and Hannah And Her Sisters so I can cover the highlights). Allen has three Oscars out of a crazy twenty-one nominations (six for directing, one for acting, and fourteen for original screenwriting). Allen of course wrote, directed, and starred in Manhattan.

Allen’s frequent muse Diane Keaton plays the romantic lead opposite Allen, as they lead a cast featuring Mariel Hemingway, Michael Murphy, and Meryl Streep.



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The Story:

Allen plays, in a complete shocker, a middle-aged comedy writer with women issues amidst multiple other insecurities, presently dating a 17-year-old (Hemingway), running in pretentious social circles with best friend Murphy and Murphy mistress (Keaton), all while dealing the impending tell-all book from his ex-wife turned lesbian (Streep).

Got all that? It doesn’t matter, because if you missed anything, Allen’s character will repeat it several times in the form of agonizing self-analysis. Allen and Keaton initially dislike each other, and you know what that means… eventually Murphy calls it off out of guilt over his wife, Allen dumps the heartbroken Hemingway, and Allen and Keaton enter into another of their trademark award courtships.

But is this love meant to last?

The Artisticness:

In many ways, this is exactly what I imagined a prototypical Woody Allen film would be like- equal parts self-deprecating humor, melodramatic relationships, a dash of pretension (it’s filmed in artful black and white), and plenty of reverence for New York City.

Manhattan, of course, opens and closes with iconic images of the Big Apple as Gershwin music plays, and we hear Allen’s character attempting to begin a novel with loving paens to the metropolis, equating the skyscrapers with magnificence and his own characters imaginary virility. But other than serving as a backdrop for all that unfolds, Manhattan isn’t really a character in Manhattan.

Keaton and Allen keep their particular chemistry from Annie Hall, connecting primarily in an overnight montage set in the rain in Central Park, some museum, and a bench near some bridge or other famous thing. Clearly New York didn’t win me over, but I’ve been there once and I was twelve.

Hemingway, nominated for Best Supporting Actress for her role, does a credible job of playing a seventeen year old clearly more emotionally mature than Allen’s character- no one ever mentions any inappropriate thought about the relationship itself, however (I later read that it’s rumored, but denied, that this is based on a relationship Allen had in real life).

It’s a lot of talk, to be honest, and not as much straight humor as even Annie Hall had to offer, so I wouldn’t watch it when tired.

THE ENDING! WILL PEOPLE SHUT UP AND LET SPOILERS HAPPEN?

It is weird though- Allen is of course his annoying, groveling self all through his courtship with Keaton, and I found myself beginning to grow weary of him. But then, Keaton and Murphy rekindle their affair, leaving Allen in a lurch, and I suddenly felt for the guy! What?

So maybe Allen knew what he was doing after all- he attempts to reconcile with Hemingway at the film’s very end, but she’s leaving for London for six months, and he’s desperate to keep her there- it’s as if he can’t fathom a world outside of Manhattan.

The film ends with Hemingway’s reassurance that not everybody gets corrupted, and Allen’s knowing smile- cut back to the city, and we’re out.

END SPOILERS


Overall: Should It Be Higher, Lower?

I’m not sure- I can’t say I have much motivation to watch it again (I’ve seen Annie Hall once, to date)- but at the same time I’m glad to have seen it. It certainly made me feel more caught up in my Woody Allen filmography, more than say, watching an out-of-character sojourn like Scoop would, for example.

The Legacy:

Manhattan actually won the BAFTA for best film, despite going 0 for 2 at the Oscars, and it’s in the National Film Registry, on lists of “best comedies,” and so forth. It’s remembered as an exceptionally point in his growth as a filmmaker, showing the fallacy of the human condition as people pair off like molecules, and get no more mature about it with higher education.

On a different note, Allen apparently insisted that the aspect ratio be preserved for video and televison releases, making Manhattan a forerunner for widescreen releases everywhere, which is much more important to me personally.

The Best Video Of It On YouTube

The opening scene: if there’s anything more iconic of Allen than this sequence, I clearly haven’t seen it yet:



Leftover Thoughts:

Meryl Streep looks really young in this movie. That is all.

Not sure where I stand on the black and white- artful or pretentious?

Regularly-scheduled Oscar coverage resumes shortly.

Part Four of a Five Part Series previewing the Best Picture nominees.

For all of his status as an offbeat visionary, and my claim to be a film geek, I'd only seen four Gus Van Sant films before I saw Milk in December. This includes his three most conventional films: a commercial and artistic success (Good Will Hunting), a cult classic (To Die For), and a regrettable foray into the conventional (Finding Forrester). My only experience with full-on, experimental Van Sant was 2003's Elephant, a slight-to-the-point-of-insubstantiality rumination on school shootings, told out of order with long stretches where the camera does nothing but wordlessly follow students through hallways.

So it might be unfair, but Elephant made me reluctant to give Last Days or Paranoid Park my money, and clearly helped me drag my heels in catching up with Drugstore Cowboy and My Own Private Idaho. I like Van Sant as a visual storyteller, but I just can't get into his cinema of aggressive paralysis- if nothing's happening, wake me up when something is. With this mentality, I understand that I'd sleep through most of Gerry.

But when I heard the premise and cast of Milk, and then saw the trailer, I found my reluctance waning- it looked like Van Sant had found a subject worthy of moviegoers patience, and he was the perfect director to put an end to cookie-cutter biopics of recent years (it's not good when Walk The Line can parody films about Ray Charles and Johnny Cash without really having to try that hard).

But did the expectations of a massive audience reign Van Sant in too far?

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Milk certainly starts out dreamily artistic- Danny Elfman's relatively non-melodic score (for Elfman, anyway) somberly opens over a montage of police raiding gay bars and clubs in the 50s and 60s, leading eventually to the televised announcement that Harvey Milk and the Mayor of San Francisco, George Moscone, had been shot and killed.

From there, however, we're treated to a largely conventional biography- a linear story of Milk's progression into public office follows, punctuated by the occasional framing device of Milk dictating his biography and will into a tape recorder, eight days before his assassination. The usually players are there, the only exception is the all-male cast- the initially supportive spouse that can't make the entire journey (James Franco), the new young thing that turns out to be a bad idea (Diego Luna), a protege to mentor into greatness (Emile Hirsch).

It sort of leaves me torn- Milk is a great story, and it's almost refreshing to see homosexual relationships handled in a frank, straightforward way (not in too much of a say, Will and Grace way, if you know what I mean), but where was Van Sant?

Harris Savides' cinematography retains the biggest influence of Van Sant's style- loving shots of Penn and Franco pan at asymetrical angles and fade into white, one memorable shot is imposed on the side of a beating victims distress whistle, and the real life mourners of Harvey Milk carrying candles down the streets in a miles-long procession is memorably recreated.

And even as a storyteller, Van Sant doesn't mince facts or give in to idolatry- he doesn't decide to omit the fact that Milk lost elections several times before his victory, or the fact that that victory was over another homosexual man, eventually. And I particularly enjoyed the small focus on Milk's assassin, Dan White, a fellow supervisor that had earlier invited Milk to his child's christening.

This relationship could have been painted with much more seething antagonism than was shown, but Milk depicts the ill-fated colleagues as professionals at a loss to understand one another, and civil until things begin unraveling for White. Van Sant also resists the urge to focus on the trial, ludicrous "twinkie" defense and terrible insufficient conviction of White for manslaughter.

And of course, the director surely had a lot to do with coaching out the performances, especially of younger stars like Hirsch, Franco, and Luna who were pitch perfect in drumming up subtlety or anxiety (Luna's character) when called for. Penn and Brolin aren't exactly the smallest egos to wrangle under control either, if consummate professionals.

The whole cast, really, managed to capture a sense of togetherness that the movement engendered- it might be that the issues they fought for are still of vital importance, or the appeal of flesh and blood heroism against archival footage of villains like Anita Bryant. But you care about these people, and their victories and defeats.

Every now and then, biopic tropes chime in and interrupt the naturalism, be they true stories or not- in particular, a random call to Milk from a wheelchair bound young gay man contemplating suicide seemed a bit heavy-handed, as did his later thankful call after he escapes his unsympathetic family. Harvey Milk is inspiring enough without making him larger-than-life. Let the facts (and Sean Penn) worry about Harvey Milk, and keep the story out of the way.

When all is said and done, Milk is a moving, artfully beautiful film- if someone of no previous reputation had directed it, I doubt I'd wonder what could have been done differently. But Gus Van Sant is Gus Van Sant, and for once I had signed up to see where his wildest flights of fancy could take a moving story. I was willing to sit through Elephant-level indulgence, because it was off of Van Sant's shoulders to get me to care in the first place, for once.

It might not be fair, in the end, to think of it that way- does Milk get nominated for every guild award under the sun and Best Picture if Van Sant goes off the rails? Probably not. And it may not even have retained the small touches that set it apart without him on the project to begin with. So along with The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, Milk is one the two films that I'd be much happier to see win the Best Picture Oscar over Slumdog Millionaire, as well as the only two nominees that don't provoke my The Dark Knight exclusion anger.

Part Three of a Five Part series on the Best Picture nominees.

When The Dark Knight was regrettably left out of the Best Picture competition, it left The Curious Case of Benjamin Button as the lone crowd-pleaser among the nominees. As it turns out, Slumdog Millionaire was simply waiting for its nomination to rollout nationwide, and it will cross $100 million as well, but Button will end up with the clear lead at the box office when all is said and done.

But as crowd-pleasers go, it's certainly inspired mixed reactions: critics liked it overall, but they didn't necessarily like it to the tune of Oscar winner, settling at 71% positive on RottenTomatoes.com. Word of mouth is relatively love it or hate it- it's beautiful! It's way too long! The romance is flat! The romance is moving!

I certainly enjoyed it, enough to see it again within a week (making it and The Dark Knight (four times, one in IMAX!) the only two films I saw more than once in theaters in 2008), but certain elements did seem to wear on me a little more the second time through. But they continue to grate more with time, or will Button settle on my shelf as a flawed but grandiose piece of filmmaking?

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Let's get my single biggest complaint out of the way- screenwriter Eric Roth, apparently motivated by the recent death of a parent, decided to have the film framed as an elderly woman, on her deathbed in a hospital amidst the chaos of Hurricane Katrina, relating her life story to her daughter by way of a mystery diary among her possessions.

So instead of the film begging in 1918 with the voice-over "My name is Benjamin, Benjamin Button," we get to spend twenty minutes trying vainly to understand a heavily accented, wheezing Cate Blanchett in old age makeup tell a random story about a backwards clock, and then ask her daughter to start reading Benjamin's diary, which transports us back with those words. Over the rest of the film, we occasionally come back to the hospital, usually serving no purpose other than pausing the story, or to hear a motivation from Blanchett that was pretty clear anyway.

Only once does any memorable element arise- (spoilers aplenty from here) the daughter turns out to be Benjamin's, and in the diary are postcards and letters written to her, but never sent. A letter, voice-overed in by Pitt, is set to a montage for a nice moment, cinematically, but the whole thing could've be worked in some other way.

The whole setup leads to plenty of logistics issues by setting a fantastic, era-spanning story in a modern, socially relevant context (not once does the daughter quibble with the whole "aging backwards" thing), plus it puts an exclamation point on the biggest criticism of the film, and my other big complaint:

The Curious Case Of Benjamin Button takes place in a fairy-tale, magic New Orleans where there is no racism whatsoever, nor any race-related issues encountered by the African-American matron of an old folks home raising a white (if odd-looking) child she found on a doorstep.

In the film's defense, it would be difficult to address race during the story without it feeling like a callous footnote, though it has plenty of time to do so. But the addition of a framing device consciously set during a disaster which brought a huge focus on racial inequalities in the region, that focuses solely on the plight of two affluent white people- well. That sort of highlights the lack.

Beyond that however, I couldn't find a single thing wrong with the film- in fact, when I'm able to fast forward the framing bits, I'll be witness to a masterpiece. It's easier to write about the flaws of a film than the strengths any day, but there's a wealth of majesty in Button that's more than deserving of 13 Oscar nominations.

Fincher, in a triumphant arrival to the truly mainstream, still lights everything in blue or orange, but works flawless technical mastery in every department, from the digital mapping of Brad Pitt onto smaller actors to the World War One battle between a tugboat and a submarine. The film moves seamlessly in design and costuming from the begginning of the twentieth century to the near-present without having to reference too many specific events to spell out signifiers for us.

I've never been one to complain about a film's length, personally- I think something basic and arithmetical in me logically assumes I got more for my $9.00 that way- and Button certainly didn't overstay its welcome, framing device aside. Journeys should feel like journeys, and we need time for two life stories to unfold.

The central romance is realized well enough for me- plenty of people have pointed out that Roth just wrote Forrest Gump again (simple southern boy meets bohemian dancer girl as a child, later they reunite but she pushes him away, finally they reconnect but it ends tragically), and that Button mirrors that film in general arc, replacing the historical reimaginings with reverse aging wizardry, but so what? Art repeats itself, and if I saw Button first, I'd like it more. In an era of film with so many pointless remakes, I think I can stomach two great films that run parallel to one another.

The melodrama is even well-punctuated by occasional levity- did I ever tell you I was struck by lightning seven times? And the theme "life is what you make it" might've been a bit less than people were expecting, given the supernatural premise, but that doesn't make it less resonant.

All in all, it would be great if Button lost the framing device and engaged with race relations in a meaningful way, but it would be greedy to ask for brilliance to fall left and right into theaters every year (2007 spoiled us, it really did). The Curious Case of Benjamin Button is a testament to the cinema of spectacle, of wondrous vision and achievements not possible in other media.

I think it'll demand plenty of repeat viewings- and not just for Lightning Guy. Though he's pretty awesome.

Part Two of a Five Part series on the Best Picture Nominees.

Not that you asked, but I am nearly twenty five years old. I was born in 1984, seven years after the series of interviews of Richard Nixon by David Frost. Nixon is fully the past for me- he's a pop-culture character, he's jowls and double peace signs getting into a helicopter, he's not a crook. I understand the importance of his administration, the near-impeachment, the resignation, the Watergate scandal.

But maybe because I didn't live through it, my reaction to Frost/Nixon is: "meh." It's great that we finally get to see a fictional portrayal of Nixon admit that he made mistakes, and it's certainly nice that the real Nixon did as much in the real thing more than thirty years ago, but that doesn't really make for an outstanding film.

Ron Howard's by-the-numbers, stagy (based on a play), and laregly anticlimactic drama is certainly professional, flashy, and well-acted. But even with the inclusion in various critical lists and guild nominations, and its de facto inclusion in the final five for the Best Picture honor, it's not pulled in a single noteworthy award or top honor- it's an also-ran. Everybody seems to feel like we need to include Frost/Nixon for the same reasons that we need to teach History class in high school.

My question: do we? (Need to include Frost/Nixon in awards season, I mean. I know we need to teach History.)

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In an interesting moment of cultural cross-promotion, the real life David Frost has popped up on talkshows promoting the sale of a DVD containing the real life interviews that the play, Frost/Nixon, and its film adaptation were drawn from. It makes for an obvious question: why not just watch the real thing?

Or to put it another way: what does Peter Morgan's (and by extension, Ron Howard's) Frost/Nixon add to history?

The answer: not much, based on the movie.

The cast, of course, is winning: Michael Sheen and Frank Langella do very capable jobs as the intrepid interviewer seeking to prove his journalist chops and the disgraced president spinning to save any sort of legacy. (Good thing they had plenty of tape to study). Matthew Macfayden is solid as Frost's producer, Oliver Platt and Sam Rockwell (Whoo! Sam Rockwell!) provide some comic relief as a pair of researchers. Kevin Bacon ably plays Nixon's loyal bodyman, and Rebecca Hall (Whoo!  Rebecca Hall!) even shows up as Frost's support and eye-candy.

Ron Howard retains the ability to build to profound moments, Hans Zimmer's score is proficiently cinematic, the story is peppered with some interviews of the minor characters, talking about the events sometime later as if they knew how important they would be...

It's certainly a solid job, all around. But why was it hard to stay awake?

Maybe because there are precious few moments that tell us anything we didn't already know. The film is torn between a desire to highlight what it clearly finds a significant moment in American history and a desire to humanize Nixon into a man neither consciously villainous nor ignorantly assured of the righteousness of his actions. Langella certainly deserves plenty of credit for embodying a man largely through personality and manner, rather than focusing on any of the quirks that we immediately think of when we hear the name.

But Frost/Nixon can't have it both ways: beyond the normal movie-clues that we're witnessing is important with a capital "I," it makes the conscious decisions to inflate them more than the original play.

My biggest complaint was those cutaway interviews: like an episode of The Office, it wasn't clear when those interviews occured, who was conducting them, or why Frost and Nixon did not appear giving them. But the supporting players were more than happy to sit down at an unspecified point (none of them appeared much older than they did in the story) and pontificate- even Rebecca Hall's character, a girlfriend that stays with Frost during his time in California but is largely not privvy to the preparations for the interviews, as far as we can see.

In short, who cares? As you'll see in my writeup of The Curious Case Of Benjamin Button, I'm quickly developing a pet peeve for stories that are weighed down by unnecessary framing devices- let at tale speak for itself, from beginning to end. At least the Button device makes it clear the way in which the story is being related to us- these cutaways in Frost/Nixon are just confusing, unexplained moments to hit us in the face with the things the movie would like us to know are dramatic: Frost's hidden funding problems, Nixon's silence on the helicopter ride after resigning.

I did sort of enjoy the most dramatic non-interview moment in the film: Nixon drunkenly places a phone call to Frost, late at night, and talks about how they both feel the desire to succeed because they come from the low class.

It's a human moment, a dramatic speech, and Langella nails it. Later, Sheen mentions the phone call in passing, and Nixon looks troubled and flustered, as if he didn't recall it. Great element, I'm thinking- it added to the story, and I'm not concerned whether it happened in real life or not.

But at the very end, in case you weren't clear that that moment was Important and Dramatic, Nixon's last question to Frost is something along the lines of "Did I really call you that night?" Thanks, Frost/Nixon. I had really forgotten that bit of the film from an hour ago. Glad you reminded me how clever you are.

In conclusion, let's let my man Sam Rockwell, speaking in one the many cutaways in which someone analyzes the events of the film for us, ironically explicate my problem with Frost/Nixon as a whole:

"You know the first and greatest sin of the deception of television is that it simplifies; it diminishes great, complex ideas, trenches of time; whole careers become reduced to a single snapshot....David [Frost] had succeeded on that final day, in getting for a fleeting moment what no investigative journalist, no state prosecutor, no judiciary committee or political enemy had managed to get; Richard Nixon's face swollen and ravaged by loneliness, self-loathing and defeat. The rest of the project and its failings would not only be forgotten, they would totally cease to exist."

Man, good thing I just watched all that unfold, if it was that important. Frost/Nixon, in the time it took from the screen to awards season, got the same treatment- its failings ceased to exist in the shadow of the subject matter (which many people in this country not born in the eighties remember personally).

So if I were ever asked for a pullquote about Frost/Nixon, I'd have to go with "Best episode of The American Experience* ever!"

*It's a documentary show on PBS. I watch a lot of PBS, and I'm proud of it, but not in an annoying, hipster, anti-establishment way.