Aside from the wins (Jeff Bridges: Best Actor; Kathryn Bigelow: Best Director; The Hurt Locker: Best Picture; Sandra Bullock: Best Actress; Mo'nique: Best Supporting Actress; and Christopher Waltz: Best Supporting Actor), these were the most memorable, or at least the most chuckle-inducing, Oscar moments for me:

1) When I was forced to exclaim in the first 5 minutes "What the dickens is Doogie Hower doing singing onstage with the cast from Showgirls?"

2) When the oddly inert co-hosts, Steve Martin and Alec Baldwin, ask the question on everyone’s minds when it comes to Meryl Streep: "What's with all the Hitler memorabilia?"  Really, Meryl, what is with all the Fürer action figures and collectibles? (Have no fear, 'tis in jest.)

3) When Martin and Baldwin both don 3-D spectacles in order to locate James Cameron in the audience.

4) When the sluggish emcees inform Christoph Waltz that he has located the Jewish mother lode his Nazi character sought in Inglourious Basterds while gesturing towards the audience.

5) When Waltz refers to the double whammy of winning an Oscar and receiving it from the comely Penelope Cruz as an "über bingo." That's a phrase you will certainly be hearing from me in the future.

6) Seeing Jennifer Garner, Ben Affleck and Jimmy Kimmel in bed together. Okay, it was an ad for Kimmel's show, but still.

7) When, due to teleprompter issues, Cameron Diaz refers to Steve Carell as Jude Law.

8) When Tina Fey mocks Robert Downey Jr. for being an actor and he accuses her of being one of the "sick, little mole people" they call writers.

9) When the winner of the Best Documentary Short (Roger Ross Williams) starts his thank you speech only to be bizarrely interrupted by the other winner (Elinor Burkett) in what can only be described as an indecipherable, Oscar acceptance shit show.

10) When, in perhaps my favorite moment of the night, Ben Stiller announces the winner for Best Makeup (Barney Burman, Mindy Hall, and Joel Harlow for Star Trek) in full Na'vi regalia, with the deadpan declaration: "I want to plug my braid into your dragon."

 
 --Caroline Hagood

Both Coraline and Fantastic Mr. Fox dipped into a rich tradition of stop-motion animation (yes, I understand that it isn't quite claymation), and both of them elevate it above the run of the mill Gumby or Davey and Goliath fare. So which, barring Up's presence in the category, deserve to win? Thoughts after the jump...

The original Zoolander came out in 2001 but was mostly overlooked because it was released a mere two and a half weeks after 9/11. While Stiller's film about a male model made a modest take at the box office, it gained a cult following on DVD and has picked up steam since then. Last week, however, Ben Stiller and writing partner Justin Theroux (hot off a stint on NBC's Parks and Recreation) announced that they're working on Zoolander 2!

Theroux is tapped to direct, and reports claim that he's attending Fashion Week in Paris to get ready for the film. Jonah Hill is being tapped for the role of the villain in the film.

This sequel better be at least... three times funnier.

What took them so long, where they in a day spa or something?("Day: d-a-i-y-e.")

Hit the jump for more!

Zoolander epitomized early naughties comedy, with just enough sincerity to mean something. While the trend lately has been to cake on the irony, Zoolander worked because everyone was so dedicated. We bought Derek Zoolander and all of his ridiculousness. Stiller was obviously mocking the fashion industry, but it was just absurd enough to work. Mugatu (Will Ferrell), Hansel (Owen Wilson), Zoolander (Stiller), David Duchovny as J.P. Prewitt, hand model extraordinaire-- everything about Zoolander made it ripe for fans to watch over and over and over until they had it memorized.

When it looked like there was no hope for a sequel the only thing that could cheer fans up was a round of orange-mocha-frappucinos, but now no one has to eulogize Derek and co. just yet.

While skeptical as it's been nine years since the first film, both Stiller's and Theroux have been on their a-game lately--the two collaborated on Tropic Thunder, and Theroux wrote Iron Man 2 (though unproven, it unarguably looks awesome)-- so I'm holding out hope that Zoolander gets the sequel that it may or may not deserve.

It's okay, though, I'm not too worried. After all Mugatu says Relax.

-Mitchell Geller

Here is a humorously accurate analysis of the signature style of some of your favorite directors (or mine, at least).

 
 Quentin Tarantino

David Lynch

 Wes Anderson

Jean-Luc Godard

Werner Herzog  

--Caroline Hagood

This is the only real test of a mind-blowing movie: if you are watching, have to pee, and consider for a split second just doing it on the couch. You know you've been there. These films are the ones that cause you to forego meals, zone out those in your life who chatter at you, forget everything except that precious space that connects you to your current visual infatuation. 

These are the same movies that can cause you to have grossly unrealistic visions of your own reality. You can get so sucked into the story that you start to believe that you, too, can accomplish, acquire, or vanquish whatever it is that the small person in your entertainment box  has accomplished, acquired, or vanquished.

If they are really, really good, these talkies will become part of your personal mythology, mixing with fantasies and belief systems, until you can't separate what you came up with from what Greta Garbo airily exhaled into your living room--and, in the end, it won't even matter. It will be too late to split hairs; yours or not, that airy breath will have already taken up permanent residence in the attic of your mind, among the memories, obsessions, and other beautiful messes that make you who you are.

--Caroline Hagood

An exercise in alienation, David Lynch’s film school project, Eraserhead (1977), is chockablock full of negative messaging about parenthood. When Henry Spencer (Jack Nance) gets to know Mary X (Charlotte Stewart) biblically, all kinds of reproductive hells break loose.

From the ghoulish puppies sucking squeakily at their mother’s teats to Mrs. X (Jeanne Bates) using grandma’s (Jean Lange) inanimate hands to toss the salad and then leaving her, still paralyzed, with a smoking cigarette in her mouth, filial bonds are so far from the syrupy stuff of Brady Bunch lore that it’s hard to believe the two could even exist in the same optical universe.

In Eraserhead, the normal squabbles of early parenthood, spawned by lack of sleep and perpetual baby howling, are taken to a new horrific high. The film’s greatest procreative warning, however, has got to be the appalling alien-fish hybrid that comes crawling out of Mary. I won’t even tell you what becomes of the alienesque tot, but, as you can imagine, it doesn’t bode well for the old paternal bond.

--Caroline Hagood

It's almost here!!! The movie I've been psyched about since I read it was being made two years ago.  The combination of one of my favorite stories with one of my favorite directors.  I remember that day so clearly. Sitting at my desk, reading USA Today, and seeing the headline.  I could not squeal since the entire office would have thought I was crazy, but I had the :-o face and a HUGE grin for the rest of the day.  And now it's only 3 days away.

SQUEAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (sorry, couldn't help myself)

Watch the latest trailer below and go run out and buy your ticket.  Maybe I'll see you at the IMAX theater on Friday.  

-Frances Illa

            It’s rare these days to find a trailer that focuses on the aesthetic of a film rather than its plot. And to find one that does so as successfully as the trailer for Bradley Rust Gray’s “The Exploding Girl” is certainly a welcome surprise.  

            Following positive reviews at last year’s Berlinale, the film garnered an acting award for Zoe Kazan at the Tribeca Film Festival in the spring. A sensitive examination of a few youthful weeks lived in the soft light of spring, “The Exploding Girl” seems sparse on story, but rich with character and depth. Returning home from college for spring break, Ivy (Kazan), who suffers from epilepsy, offers to share her apartment with childhood friend Al (Mark Rendall). The complex relationship between the two reveals itself through the time the two are forced to spend together and the emotions they find difficult to define.

Rather than taking a cliché approach to a budding relationship between two quirky youngsters, a favorite subject of choice for indie filmmakers, Gray seems to find a way to endow his film with grace and realism. The cinematography of the shots featured in this short trailer are absolutely exquisite, which has become somewhat of a trademark for the filmmaking team of Gray and wife So Yong Kim (In Between Days, Treeless Mountain). While there may be a risk of this film veering to the overly hipster, here’s hoping it will stay in the realm of the authentic.

--Catherine Regio

--Caroline Hagood

I do not envy the Academy voters the task of choosing one of these fabulous animated shorts as the best of the bunch.  Each one is unique, tells a fantastic story, and his hilarious in it’s own way.  The styles of each differ tremendously, showcasing the animator’s talent and ability to tell a great story in a short amount of time.  Thanks to Web 2.0, I was able to view all 5. 

Read my takes on each after the jump

French Roast

The film is in French, but you do not have to be fluent or even know the language to understand the premise of the film.  A gentleman (who looks like he is well off) is enjoying is espresso when he realizes that he does not have his wallet.  Hilarity ensues when a homeless man keeps coming in and out asking for change and a nun sits right next to him with a wad of cash.  

Granny O'Grimm's Sleeping Beauty

You’ve never heard Sleeping Beauty told quite like this.  As grandmother tells her grandchild the story of Sleeping Beauty, we quickly learn why the grandchild was not too thrilled about the whole scenario. Bedtime stories never were this funny when I was a kid!

The Lady and the Reaper

I love the animation in this short. There is not much dialogue, but that's not necessary.  The story speaks for itself. An old woman who misses her lost husband gets a visit by the Grim Reaper.  Just when you think you know where the story will go, a hilarious twist ensues. 

Wallace and Gromit: A Matter of Loaf and Death

I love these two!! I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen Wallace and Gromit: The Curse of the Wererabbit.  This is the longest out of the 5 nominees (at around 29 minutes) and brings us another wacky adventure for the duo.  This time, they are bakers and there is a serial killer on the loose.  The vicitims: all bakers!

Logorama

You only need to watch the first few seconds to realize that these animators have done something brilliant.  Created a world entirely made up of logos.   Sadly, this is no longer available online.  I don't want to spoil the ending, but it has something to do with Ronald McDonald. 

I can't decide which one should win. Granny O'Grimm and French Roast made me laugh the most. Wallace and Gromit is always good, The Lady and the Reaper has a sweetness to it, Logorama is the most innovative.  It's a tough call.

If you've seen all five films, which do you think should take home the Oscar?

-Frances Illa

Rumors have been circulating about a new movie in the Vacation franchise!

Seen above is a "mini-movie" produced by Home Away, a vacation property clearing house, that was first unveiled during a 30-second spot during the Super Bowl.

More after the jump.

Viewers were directed to a website to see the video, which (if you haven't watched it  yet) stars Chevy Chase and Beverly D'Angelo in their original roles as the Griswolds, roles they played in 3 previous National Lampoon Vacation films.

The National Lampoon name hasn't been doing so great lately, as it's most commonly been seen slapped onto terrible straight-to-DVD teen comedies.

It's sad, really, that the company that produced both Animal House and the Vacation movies has been reduced to this. The last National Lampoon film to be released in theaters (and have any modicum of humor) was Van Wilder in 2002. Ouch.

Anyway, /Film is reporting that New Line has hired a director and a pair of screenwriters to bring the Girswold's latest adventure to the big screen, possibly following Rusty, the son from the original movies, as he takes his family to Wally World before it closes.

Here's hoping it redeems the National Lampoon name. (But these hopes aren't too high.)

-Mitchell Geller

This is pretty cool. It's a short piece from the making of Star Wars. I have no idea where it's from, but it's interesting to see what we could have gotten. Thank god for James Earl Jones, huh?

Hit the jump for more thoughts and a Star Wars marathon!

This is why commentary tracks are awesome. I can only imagine that this is from the making of on one of the many recent Star Wars DVD releases. Remember when everyone was waiting for the trilogy to come out on DVD? That feels like so long ago! Now when's that Rlu-Ray version being released? That might make me invest in that newfangled technology!

You hear me, Lucas! Blu-Ray! Do it!

Until then I'll just keep watching my VHS copies of the 1996 re-release...

An interesting side note:

We've all marathoned the entire Star Wars series in order (right? right?), but have we tried other ways of watching this glorious 12(ish) hours of sci-fi escapism? I read this one somewhere (I can't remember where, now, but if it's your idea, props to ya!) and I loved the idea:

Rather than do Episode I-VI in that order, watch IV, V, and then do I, II, and III as a flashback, then finish with VI.

With this order you're not stuck with the new trilogy and then the originals, which, although it's presumably the way that Lucas means for us to see it, can be sort of boring. By the end of II it's questionable as to whether it's worth pushing on. This way you start with the great originals, then, after the bleak ending of Empire, you get to see the new trilogy to fill in some plot points (where did Vader, who we now know is *SPOILER ALERT* Luke's father *end spoiler* come from? What's the deal with the Emperor? Etc.), and then wrap it up with the (somewhat uneven, though always crowd-pleasing) Jedi. It's flawless!

I've yet to try this way, but I've been meaning to get to it soon. Very, very soon.

Have I mentioned that I like Star Wars?

Anyone else have fun ways to marathon movies? A Batman retrospective? Backwards Back to the Future? Die Hard even-and-odds? Godfather minus the third? The possibilities are endless. Re-frame the films, and make your own experience!

-Mitchell Geller

Michael Haneke is a cruel mistress.

Director (and auteur extraordinaire) Haneke's latest exploration of violence, oppression, control, and terror, The White Ribbon, was awarded the pal d'or at last year's Cannes Film Festival, and may win the Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film next month. It isn't an easy film.

Filmed in stark black and white, The White Ribbon exists in a gray area. Like many of Haneke's films, it's maddeningly frustrating but dangerously compelling.

Set in a just-pre-World War I German village, the film follows events narrated by the town's former school teacher, beginning with a mysterious accident, ending with the start of the War. The plot is fairly loose, and, although the film comes in at around two and a half hours, not much happens in terms of story. The pacing is deliberate and perfect for the subject, starting off maddeningly slowly, ending taught and ready to blow, just as the political climate of the time.

There is something awry in the strictly Protestant village of Eichwald, and when mysterious and violent things begin to happen--a wire strung up between two trees to trip the local doctor's horse, the baron's son beaten badly and humiliated, a handicapped boy brutally tortured and nearly blinded, a woman killed in a strange accident, a barn burnt down on the baron's land--the villagers look for someone to blame. Almost all signs point to the children, and the one man who is willing to speak up, the school teacher, is threatened with ruin by the preacher.

Haneke meant The White Ribbon to be a study of the roots of terrorism, tracing the roots of Fascism in one small village in Germany. The end result is beautifully shot but has terrifying implications.

Many are calling this film Haneke's masterpiece, and he has certainly made something fascinating, but calling it his masterpiece might be going a bit far. His previous films have been quite divisive: Funny Games and it's English-language, shot-for-shot remake both praised and panned, Cache praised with a grain of salt, Benny's Video questioned, but pretty much everyone likes The White Ribbon. Maybe it's just Haneke's time. Maybe something about The White Ribbon isn't as repulsive as his other films. There is far less on screen violence, for one, although the end result of The White Ribbon is as unsettling as anything else he has ever done.

Masterpiece or not, The White Ribbon is Haneke's most formally perfect film. The cinematography and the mis en scene make it thrilling for the eyes, and the sparsity of everything highlight just how much Haneke was able to do with so little. The cast also deserves high marks, especially the stunningly are-they-evil-or-not children

The White Ribbon is very, very German. It comes to an unsettling, unresolved ending, and leaves viewers thinking about it for a long while after the silent credits finish rolling. There is no happy conclusion. There is barely any conclusion. The White Ribbon begs to be viewed more than once. There is so much here, but upon my first viewing I was struck by the fact that Haneke has done something quite impressive.

In short, Haneke doesn't like Fascism, violence, or oppression. At length, maybe he does?

Michael Haneke is a cruel mistress.

-Mitchell Geller

I look forward to the next season of “Jersey Shore” in which the men are still sexualized, but Snooki has become President of the United States and must find a way to cope with her newfound power. Okay, okay, so that doesn’t happen, but can you imagine? The possibilities are endless.
 
 --Caroline Hagood

Who knew that a movie about a werewolf could be so beautiful?  I know you're probably thinking "What on earth is she talking about?"  I myself am surprised by it.  This is not the first thing that comes to mind when you thinks of a werewolf movie.  But in the case of this reincarnation of The Wolfman, it fits.

Read why after the jump

The Wolfman is not your typical monster film, so if you're expecting to be really scared, this may not be for you.  In the case of a woman who was sitting in front of me, she was quite upset that she was not scared once.  I was a little disappointed in how abrupt the ending was, but overall I enjoyed the story.  It is worth seeing, if only to see how perfect del Torro is in the title role.  And, as always, Anthony Hopkins is such a badass!  

-Frances Illa

            Along a gritty stretch of highway outside of Essex, England, a starved, sickly horse is chained to a concrete block. She is surrounded by a handful of run-down trailers, separated from the speeding cars by a thin chain link fence. From across the road, a teenage girl watches, the hood on her tracksuit shading her heavily made-up eyes.

            The girl is Mia (Katie Jarvis), a 15-year old girl whose life is nothing short of miserable. The cramped apartment she shares with her younger sister and neglectful mother is a prison from which she has but one refuge: an abandoned unit in a neighboring housing complex where she hooks up her walkman to a small set of speakers and practices a hip-hop dance routine.

            Jarvis was lauded as one of the biggest discoveries at last year’s Cannes Film Festival, where the film received a Special Jury Prize. The actress was discovered at a train station where she was arguing with her boyfriend, likely displaying the kind of ferocity that burns inside of the angry Mia. Without a drop of previous acting experience, Jarvis delivers a deeply emotional performance, accessing a part of the teenage psyche that is probably all too familiar to her.

“Fish Tank” is British helmer Andrea Arnold’s feature length debut, following an Oscar win for her short film “Wasp.” Arnold’s ability to capture the authentic rhythms of everyday life is astonishing, reaching a higher level of realism than most films even dare to create. The film is shot almost entirely by hand-held camera, providing a visual equivalent to the emotional instability experienced by each of the characters.

While a quick synopsis might give the impression that “Fish Tank” is another poor-kid-lifts-herself-up-by-her-bootstraps tale, it reaches far deeper than that. Yes, Mia is hardened by her upbringing and tough when the occasion calls for it, but she is not actively seeking a way out of her lifestyle, nor does she seem to despise it. What renders the film even more believable is the fact that Mia's knowledge of dance is limited, despite the dedication she shows in her rehearsal space. Regardless, it is her passion, and her escape.

Into Mia’s mess of a life walks her mother’s new studly boyfriend Connor (up-and-comer Michael Fassbender), who is kind, generous, and caring in a way that she has never really known. Unsurprisingly, she is drawn to him; the camera clings to the moments they spend together in the same way that Mia lingers on those moments in her own memory. In return, Connor also seems to pay special attention to Mia, treating her with tenderness and encouraging her to dance. It is clear from the beginning that the two have a very particular connection – one that is compromised by a single enormous decision that tosses Mia’s life into further turbulent chaos.

When shooting the film, Arnold delivered the script to the actors in weekly installments, allowing them to inhabit the characters from one moment to the next without knowing what would become of them in the end. Her success with this approach makes one wonder why it hasn’t been tried before – for after all, life is lived without knowing the consequences of our actions.

In the interest of not spoiling the film, suffice it to say that the final act is nothing short of traumatizing as the consequences of the characters’ actions unfold in heart-wrenching ways. Even though it is unclear whether Mia or anyone else comes out of their experience better off than before, the conclusion is satisfying in how it reflects a real experience; life is rarely clear cut, Mia’s least of all.

--Catherine Regio

Ostensibly, what we're seeing here is Lynch directing Afghan-American Ariana Delawari's folk-pop stylings. Yet, watching Lynch's filmed lyrical insights always feels like spying on his psyche. 

Here, as in his other directorial efforts that contain music, we return again and again to the same stage, with its uncanny echoes, red curtains, and spotlighted, singing woman. 

Where does all of this exist, exactly? Although it clearly has real-world coordinates, it seems to float most emphatically through Lynch's mind, resurfacing every couple of years in moments such as this one.

 
Director Kathryn Bigelow may just be the perfect hybrid of gender stereotypes. She has found a way to blend the qualities that are usually, albeit incorrectly, labeled masculine and feminine in a filmmaker. 

As a result, she has a knack for more commercial, "muscular" films, such as  "K-19: the Widowmaker" (2002); but also for more carefully observed pieces like "The Weight of Water" (2000).  Her newest film, "The Hurt Locker," stitches together the muscular and the carefully observed to create one hell of a war movie.

"The Hurt Locker" captures the minute pockets of pain that soldiers carry within them, while dutifully stunning its audience with the candor, and even the poetry, of its explosions; Bigelow's blasts are as thoughtful as they are vicious.

Bigelow makes the smaller moments tremble with violence, while infusing the large-scale sections with the painstaking detailing of dollhouse furniture.  An early scene functions as a microcosm of this: Everything pauses before a huge explosion tears through the scene and rubble rains down in slow motion. Finally, a man’s face breaks open as the film cuts to the still-intact faces of men who have just lost a friend.

In many ways, Staff Sergeant William James (Jeremy Renner), the wild man with the virtuosic bomb diffusing skills, functions as a metaphor for war itself. He keeps little pieces of the bombs he has disassembled under his bed as a symbol of his paradoxical worldview: that what almost kills him makes him feel most alive.

 
 In one scene, it becomes clear that what vanquishes him is not reaching in to diffuse a human bomb, but the thousands of cereal boxes staring menacingly at him in the grocery store when he returns home. For James, everyday life, with its clogged gutters and neon lights, is the real horror.

In spite of all its pyrotechnics, the film's most rewarding charms are not readily apparent. Sitting in the audience, I felt as though I'd been given an extremely subtle riddle to solve, one part of which involves the title.There are a number of concrete items in the film to which the name could refer, but I settled on the more abstract compendium of its characters’ pain. 

Regardless, that you will be pondering this until you realize the theater is empty and you’ve dribbled soda all over your legs is but a small piece of why this film deserves to win Best Picture.