Reelin' in the Years

Friday Fromage: Super Duper Twilight New Moon (sigh) edition

2009-11-20T07:20:45-05:00

I know, I know, it's redundant to put New Moon and "fromage" in the same post title. Let those hormone-hopping tweens and menopausal moms have their fun, and we'll have ours.

Hope you caught my flashback to movies, some even worse than New Moon, featuring teenage werewolves. Of course, my favorite is 1957's I Was a Teenage Werewolf that, along with Jerry Lewis' transformation scene in The Nutty Professor, were the movies most likely to make me soil myself as a child. I'll take Michael Landon going lupine-loco over Taylor Lautner's shirtless pouting any day.

We also need to provide evidence that teenage vampires were done before and better than Robert Pattinson overdoing the glitter skin creme in daylight. Quoting a commenter on my New Moon review: "Vampires. Don't. Sparkle."

Oddly enough, even with I Was a Teenage Werewolf and I Was a Teenage Frankenstein (a great double feature that came around almost annually), nobody ever thought to title a movie I Was a Teenage Vampire. It should tell you something when schlockmeisters of that era wouldn't even touch the idea.

But if we skip ahead of the usual Friday Fromage time frame -- cheese needs to age properly, you know -- to 1987, we find The Lost Boys starring both Coreys (Feldman & Haim) and Jack Bauer (Keifer Sutherland) before they even earned their first arrest records. Oh, were we ever that young?

And, just for good measure, this trailer for 1972's The Rats Are Coming! The Werewolves Are Here! that reminds me of New Moon fever, for some reason. Again, the minds that slapped this piece of bat guano together decided vampires were too dumb to add to the mix. Enjoy!

Review: Until further notice, Lee Daniels' Precious is 2009's best movie

2009-11-19T12:03:14-05:00

All the hype about Precious (let’s drop the rest of its clunky title) makes one wonder how any film could live up to it. After being anointed as a Sundance, Cannes and Toronto film festival event, embraced by critics and adopted by Oprah Winfrey and Tyler Perry, this tiny movie with a heart as big as its young hero can’t be that good. Can it?

Yes, it is.

A more unlikely scenario to build a new classic around is hard to imagine. Clareese Precious Jones, played by sneakily impressive newcomer Gabourney Sidibe, is a morbidly obese, illiterate inner city teenager, pregnant for the second time by her father, with an enabling, nearly demonic mother (Mo’Nique, start rehearsing an acceptance speech).

Precious is so withdrawn from normalcy that she practically blends into her bleak ghetto surroundings. Whatever potential she possesses is customarily dashed by cruel comments and actions, the most devastating from her mother, accusing Precious of stealing her man rather than admitting it was rape.

A social worker (Mariah Carey) can’t get through to her, an alternative school teacher (Paula Patton) barely does, and when life pushes her a step forward, fate shoves her two steps back. It isn’t a pretty picture, except for the fantasies Precious retreats toward at her lowest moments.

She daydreams of being a singer or dancer on BET, and dating a light-skinned African-American with nice teeth while flashbulbs pop on red carpets. If you’ve ever wondered exactly what a director does, watch how Lee Daniels, in only his second film, blends such wishful happiness into harsh horrors, enabling viewers to share what Precious is thinking.

One brilliant example: When the father shoves Precious into bed for sex, she can’t resist or else risk death. Staring at the ceiling to take her mind off what’s happening, Precious focuses on a tiny crack in the plaster. We see her point of view as the crack widens and the camera pulls closer, exposing one of her fantasies, like peeking into someone else’s existence. At that moment, I was convinced of this film’s modest greatness.

There’s also an abundance of earthy humor in Precious’ predicaments, often from her alt-school classmates talking smack, delusions of something better just around the corner, or an affront so offensive that shocked laughter keeps viewers from crying. Sometimes it’s a musical choice on the soundtrack or when – in a fiercely original moment – Daniels transforms his film into an urban version of a landmark Italian film. You have to see it to believe it.

Daniels isn’t throwing a pity party here; more like a welfare-class cotillion for a lost then possibly found soul. The movie is open-ended, without the crowning moment Precious deserves. Yet at the fadeout we’re more hopeful it can happen than everything we’ve seen would lead us to believe. That’s spectacular storytelling.

Precious is a rarity in movies today, a small but tragically universal slice of life that appears to be one thing before blossoming into something else, something extraordinary. It is a movie cloaked in depravity and hopelessness yet encourages the best aspects of human nature, especially the power of education despite resentment from those who don’t have it. Precious demolishes the supposition that a film by and about a certain culture can’t have deep meaning for others.

And unless December holds a superior surprise, Precious is the best movie of 2009.

The Twilight Saga: New Moon review; enough to make a critic howl

2009-11-19T07:55:37-05:00

OMG, can you believe that Edward, like, unfriends Bella in the new Twilight movie?

Not on Facebook, though, so you know he isn’t serious. Teenagers in dreary Forks, Wash. apparently didn’t get the memo about the Internet, iPhones and Xboxes. They’re too busy wallowing in their own mope about who’s kissing or biting who.

Just another day that feels like a year in The Twilight Saga: New Moon.

That’s cat (or “cool” for anyone over the age of tween). Edward says this is the last time Bella will ever see him but he’s just fronting. He keeps popping up in wispy apparitions – which is no different from Robert Pattinson in the flesh – to warn Bella not to do anything reckless. But she’s an “adrenaline junkie” now, which is wack because every time she runs it’s in slo-mo.

I’ll bet Bella’s gonna marry someone. I hope it’s Jacob, whose performance enhancing workout regimen buffed up everything except Taylor Lautner’s acting skills. At least he doesn’t look like he’d snap in two while carrying Bella over the threshold.

Something is inherently wrong with a movie featuring vampires and werewolves when the only screams from the audience occur when some dude takes off his shirt.

But you have to admit that New Moon is an improvement over the first Twilight flick, which is kind of like saying you prefer e.coli to swine flu.

Now that most of the introductions to personality-challenged characters are out of the way, and special effects aren’t just the first flick’s lame-o treetop scampers and Cirque du Soleil leaps, there’s actually a story shaping up.

It probably has something to do with Big Willie Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, judging from heavy-handed hints dropped along the way. Bella (Kristen Stewart) falls asleep with a copy of the book – no Kindles in Forks, either – by her pillow, and Edward throws a few lines back at an English lit teacher who thinks he isn’t paying attention in class. I’d just bite him.

Edward’s too sweet for that. He even tries the Romeo bit while self-exiled in Italy after someone drops the bomb on him that Bella offed herself. She didn’t, of course. Bella’s too busy swooning over Jacob’s sudden hunkiness and the way he protects her from his werewolfy crew, the same way Edward saved her from his family’s bloodlust.

Oh, yeah, there’s gonna be a smackdown, looking something like what Michael Vick dreams.

Meanwhile, abstinence makes Bella’s heart grow fonder. Not the “hit it” kind of desire because that’s, you know, foul. But that doesn’t prevent a few laughable double entendres when Edward announces he’s leaving and Bella says she wants to come with him.

You can cut the sexual tension with a spork.

Since this is a Twilight movie, there must be a few new characters introduced to keep fans guessing as if they hadn’t read Stephenie Meyer's’ books. The fine British actor Michael Sheen (Frost/Nixon, The Queen) does the Dumbledore thing as leader of the vampire union, latching onto a franchise like Michael Gambon and Richard Harris with the Harry Potter flicks. Dakota Fanning shows up for one scene as his ruby-eyed minion, apparently because she’s a closet Twi-hard.

You almost feel sorry for those actors playing various off-the-hook monsters who, for the second movie in a row, have little to do except stand aside waiting for their few lines of dialogue. Then you remember they’re getting the red carpet treatment and doing star interviews for their troubles.

Easy work, if you can get it.

The Great American Teach-In; better than sleeping in

2009-11-18T06:29:04-05:00

I was 11 years old when my Dad's theater showed To Sir with Love for the first time. The first time seeing it sparked a dream of being a teacher like Sidney Poitier.

I made it happen, for 16 years that haven't lost their luster even after I found another dream job. Today theose occupations converge, as the Great American Teach-In is celebrated at schools across the nation. Professionals from all kinds of careers will donate a few hours to, hopefully, strike a spark in someone out there in those desks, like Poitier did for a ragtag bunch of British students.

I'm doing double duty, first at Steinbrenner High School in Lutz then at John Hopkins Middle School in St. Petersburg. Sure, I have a lot of work piled up before the Thanksgiving holiday but that'll have to wait. Some of these students have been shoved aside by other considerations, I'm sure, and I won't contribute to that.

Not today. Not after last night's screening of Precious, a movie based on the power of education in a dreadfully unfortunate girl's life, and one of the best I've seen in 2009. I can imagine a lot of young people will see Precious and be inspired in some way, as I was in 1967.

If you're not involved in the Teach-In, you can do other things to support our youth today.

For one, Papa John's pizza is donating a portion of its proceeds today (not online orders, though) if you just say "NIE" when you place an order. NIE stands for Newspapers in Education, which the Times heartily supports with year-round involvement.

Or you can just take a minute to ask a student how he or she is doing in class. Make a point of reminding them how important education will be to their lives, even if they bristle at the thought right now. You never know when such words will make a difference.

Now I'm off. Can't be tardy, you know.

See? The Academy Awards show is already shorter: Roger Corman, Lauren Bacall, Gordon Willis, John Calley get their honorary awards early

2009-11-16T08:32:49-05:00

When Academy Awards planners announced the best picture nominee list would increase to 10 finalists, the response included doubts about an already long telecast getting longer.

Saturday night in L.A., Oscar planners made an unprecedented move to ensure that won't happen.

Rather than doing it onstage, the academy presented its four honorary Oscars -- always a time drag, no matter who gets them -- at a swanky banquet nearly four months before the actual show. This is the first time that has happened in 82 years. That's a lot of film clips and speechifying that won't clutter the telecast.

Winners included screen legend Lauren Bacall, the original filmmaking maverick Roger Corman, cinematographer Gordon Willis (The Godfather Trilogy, Annie Hall) and producer John Calley (The Da Vinci Code, Catch-22, The Remains of the Day).

You can find out a bit more about the winners in the links I've provided and the video clip posted above. If you watch until the end, you'll notice that its creator Richard Thomas isn't keen on the idea of shoving legends away from the TV exposure their careers deserve.

Former Times teen movie critic Scott Foundas named associate program director for Film Society of Lincoln Center

2009-11-13T11:34:15-05:00

Before Billy Norris, before Mina Asayesh-Brown, the first St. Petersburg Times teenage movie critic was a highly capable and confident young man named Scott Foundas, who could occasionally get on my nerves because he had this knack for being right.

Scott went on to the University of Southern California where he earned a degree in Cinema and Television Studies. That led to an enviable career as a film critic for such publications as Variety and L.A. Weekly, where he became film editor and chief critic. Scott became a regular participant in international film festivals, on film selection committees, juries, expert panels and penning essays for programs. (You get a feel for his movie tastes in the brief clip above, shot when he arrived at Cannes.)

I see Scott about once a year, usually at the Telluride Film Festival where he'll introduce me to someone famous as the guy who got him started in film criticism. My standard response is "Yes, the student has become the teacher." But I'm not sure it was ever the other way around.

Now comes news that Scott has been appointed associate program director for the Film Society of Lincoln Center in New York. Among his duties will be programming films for the prestigious New York Film Festival. Scott has served on that festival's selection committee since 2007.

"There is no better place and no better opportunity I can think of as a natural next step from a film critic desk, than having a voice in what this renowned organization offers by way of programming," Scott said in a news release received this morning. "I now get to experience world cinema from the driver's seat."

Executive director Mara Manus added: "Scott's writing is an exhilarating dialogue with artists and audiences alike. It is this vibrancy, along with Scott's deep film knowledge, that will contribute greatly to our growing organization, ensuring we continue to offer (audiences) a vital place of serious film culture."

It couldn't happen to a smarter guy. Congratulations, bud.

Friday Fromage: So long, Lee Majors, and thanks for all the Killer Fish

2009-11-13T08:08:34-05:00

Maybe it's the tilapia Princess Di baked last night that led me to today's Friday Fromage pick, 1979's Killer Fish.

Dinner was tasty, baby, but there simply wasn't enough cheese.

Killer Fish is part of the genus underwatica stupidus, evolving from Steven Spielberg's Jaws. After that blockbuster, if it could swim there was a movie about it.

The bait for moviegoers here was the chance to see piranhas munching on the Six Million Dollar Man, Lee Majors, and a better cast than usual for such soggy entertainment: Oscar nominees Karen Black (Five Easy Pieces) and Marisa Berenson (Cabaret), former NFL quarterback/playboy Dan Pastorini, the granddaughter of a famous author (Margaux Hemingway), the guy who went searching for Charlton Heston in the second Planet of the Apes flick (James Franciscus) and Gary Collins, semi-famous for marrying Miss America, Mary Ann Mobley.

They're all on the trail of stolen jewels dumped in the ocean for safekeeping. Turns out that piranhas work better than guard dogs. You'll never experience a Long John Silver's snack the same way again.

Enjoy!

Feel-good movie of the year: The Blind Side is more than a sports flick

2009-11-12T07:41:52-05:00

Wouldn't you know, the same day I posted the Rotten Tomatoes Show's funny spoof of sports movie cliches, Princess Di and I saw a movie about a football player that nimbly skips them all.

The Blind Side is based on the true and genuinely inspiring story of Michael Oher, a product of Memphis' inner city projects that often swalllows talent like his. Oher was taken off the streets by a wealthy couple, becoming part of their family. They helped raise his grades from almost passing to the 2.5 GPA required to accept an NCAA football scholarship, leading to his selection by the Baltimore Ravens in the 2009 NFL draft. Now the offensive tackle is a leading candidate for rookie of the year.

Featuring Sandra Bullock's best performance in too long, The Blind Side is now a leading candidate for feel-good movie of the year.

I'll confess to a distantly personal connection to Oher's remarkable story. Two of our best friends, Wayne and Karla Whetzel, adopted five children -- including four African-American brothers from a background like Oher's -- and you'll seldom see a better family dynamic. The kids also improved their grades, social skills and behavior patterns, and they're promising athletes, too. (I kid Wayne that Kevontrae -- "Key" for short -- may turn out to be his 401Key.)

The same warmth I feel when visiting that family is evident in each frame of The Blind Side, none of it as bogus as filmmakers can be tempted to make it. Even before last night's screening, "Uncle" Steve and "Auntie" Dianne promised the Whetzel family that we'll take them on a group outing to see The Blind Side when it opens on Nov. 20. I can't wait. Meanwhile, enjoy the trailer, guys.

Love sports? Love movies? You'll love this musical spoof of every sports movie cliche

2009-11-11T07:37:15-05:00

I ran across The Rotten Tomatoes Show on the Current channel last night (hey, it was a slow TV night), which surprised me because I thought that channel was reserved for co-founder Al Gore's eco-lectures. Now I'm including Current on my favorites list, if only to catch this funny look at movies each week.

Check out co-host Brett Erlich's hilarious musical tribute to sports movies titled Last Second Plays. You'll never watch Hoosiers, Happy Gilmore, Major League or any other jock flick the same way again.

Enjoy!

Nikki Reed: From Hollywood's next big thing to just another Twilight twink

2009-11-10T14:13:49-05:00

The more I listen to my telephone interview with The Twilight Saga: New Moon co-star Nikki Reed, the more I'm convinced that Catherine Hardwicke did most of the heavy lifting on their 2003 screenplay collaboration, the superb teen drama, thirteen.

I haven't heard that many conversational crutches ("like," "you know," etc.) since interviewing Taylor Lautner last year.

Reed became Hollywood's "it" girl when thirteen was released, earning several critics group citations and award nominations for the semi-autobiographical script and her performance. Hardwicke -- who also directed Twilight but was dumped from the sequels -- shared credit but deferred to Reed in interviews because, hey, it was a better story that a teenager was pouring sordid personal experience into a script.

Since then, Reed hasn't produced another screenplay and roles slacked off, to the point that playing Rosalie Hale in the Twilight flicks is a good career move. I couldn't avoid asking Reed why we haven't seen another screenplay from her.

"Actually, I’ve made some pretty decent attempts," she said before dropping this tell-tale remark: "They were solo attempts, and that might be what the issue was."

Or, it could be Reed's emancipation from her divorced parents at age 14, after turning family issues into a movie.

"I was trying to go to high school while living by myself," she said, "which resulted in me dropping out of high school and then going back to take my equivalency (test), taking college courses and trying to pay rent. Meanwhile, I was also exploring the writing aspect. I think in the next year or so that’s what I’d like to focus on."

I asked Reed if it was difficult wrapping her head around such success at an early, unsupervised age. She reportedly did the kinds of illegal and immoral things that thirteen portrayed teenagers doing.

"That’s a very loaded question," she said. "But yes it was. To this day I’m still trying to figure out how to, like, dissect what I’m actually trying to say and represent with this film, so I can do it the right way.

"In a sense, one could walk away and feel exploited, just torn. My family was put on the line, in the interest of doing something really honest and real. On the other hand, I might’ve done it all differently if I had the chance to redo it."

The rest of the interview -- the stuff Twilight fans want to read -- will be published next week online and in Weekend.