THIS WEEKEND - The title of Ian Rothkerch's Brian De Palma article/interview over at Salon pretty much sums up the critical divide on the sometimes controversial filmmaker, whose new film, 'Femme Fatale', opened Wednesday: 'Genius? Hack? Genius?' De Palma explains: "I get some pretty staunch, diehard De Palma admirers here in the United States. There may not be as many of them, but they are indeed impassioned." Among those impassioned De Palma fans is my friend, Scott (yes, the same Scott who didn't have the courage to go up on stage and re-enact 'The Evil Dead' with Bruce Campbell (8/5) and the original cast). Scott would be among those in the "genius" camp, who spend their Friday night's going over the museum sequence from 'Dressed to Kill' like it was the Zapruder film. (And you think I'm joking.) There is indeed a loyal De Palma fan base out there, including Quentin Tarantino who, if I recall correctly, lists De Palma's 'Blow Out' as the best film of all-time, or at least among the top. Needless to say, Scott loves 'Blow Out' as well. The "hack" contingent consists of people who tend to overlook films like 'Casualties of War', 'Scarface', 'The Untouchables' and 'Carrie', and focus on his more recent films that were almost all poorly received by critics -- 'Mission To Mars', 'Snake Eyes', 'Raising Cain', 'Bonfire of the Vanities' and even 'Mission: Impossible', which created the perception that De Palma wasn't really an auteur anymore; rather, he was just another big-gun Hollywood director. The fact is, I'm just not familiar enough with De Palma's work to really weigh in. For whatever reason he has always been just off my radar. I like all four of the films I mentioned above ('Casualties', 'Scarface', etc...) and I can certainly see why movie buffs like Scott get all giddy when they watch the technical mastery displayed in films like 'Blow Out' and 'Dressed To Kill'. But when you take a film like 'Snake Eyes', for example, which opens with an impressive extended tracking shot but then devolves into a crude 'Rashomon' ripoff, it's tough for me to get too excited about De Palma's work. 'Snake Eyes' is such a case of style over substance that it's an insult to shallow people everywhere....which leads me back to his latest high-glitz affair, 'Femme Fatale,' which I will see this weekend and review for next week. The previews have me intrigued, but I doubt I would have any interest in seeing the movie if De Palma wasn't the director. That, and as contributor Sam Hallgren so gracefully put it, "There are, however, so few opportunities to see mainstream porn." So far the critical response has been harsh with Rotten Tomatoes showing only 27 fresh reviews out of 72. The opposing reactions are along the genius-hack line discussed above: "The story the movie tells is of Brian De Palma's addiction to the junk-calorie suspense tropes that have all but ruined his career," explains Owen Gleiberman in Entertainment Weekly. J. Hoberman of the Village Voice writes, "Sustains its dreamlike glide through a succession of cheesy coincidences and voluptuous cheap effects, not the least of which is Rebecca Romijn-Stamos." Probably the most glowing review comes from Roger Ebert who gives it a staggering 4 stars: "Above all, [De Palma] is up to an exercise in superb style and craftsmanship. The movie is very light on dialogue, and many of the words that are spoken come across as if the characters are imitating movie actors (the film opens with Laure watching "Double Indemnity"--for pointers in how to be a vixen, no doubt)." I'm usually not a fan of films that are merely exercises in style, superb or not, but I'm holding out hope. Maybe I can join Scott and the rest of the De Palma cult on Friday nights as we go frame-by-frame over the establishing tracking shot at the prom in 'Carrie.' I can dream. The big movie opening this weekend, however, is '8 Mile' featuring the acting debut of Eminem. I wrote about my expectations for this movie here (9/11) so I won't say much now. Judging from the reaction so far, Curtis Hanson has extended his streak of quality, critically-acclaimed movies to three, following 'L.A. Confidential' and 'Wonder Boys' with 41 positive reviews out of 55. The only "major" critic to diss it is Rex Reed of the New York Observer, and I place major in quotes because I'm convinced Red Reed is the worst critic alive. I've always wondered how legendary film critic Andrew Sarris could stand sharing duties with Rex at the Observer, though I suppose just because they write for the same paper doesn't mean they have to go for long walks together in Central Park. Starting Monday, Sam Hallgren, Eric Baker and I will be holding a Movie Club where we will exchange thoughts on '8 Mile'. Hopefully a few of you will submit your views in the Feedback Forum.

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A DRUNKEN STROLL DOWN THE MOONLIGHT MILE - As promised, some thoughts from CS contributor Eric Baker:

I'll get to "Punch-Drunk Love" in a second, but I first I have to take issue with one of David Edelstein's earlier columns about "Moonlight Mile." He branded it "the worst movie of the year", and while it does have several problems, it's not anywhere close to the most craptastic. I originally thought this was because as a movie critic for a highly influential online magazine (Slate) who probably lives in NYC, he has access to and only has to watch movies that are generating significant buzz. Slate is supposed to appeal to a hip audience...like the people who have time to read this tripe, right? Then I saw he had to review "I Spy" the other day. Nevertheless, I can see him, and probably CS [who still hasn't seen it -ed.] , hating "Moonlight" intensely for exactly the reasons he ticks off in his column. I don't want to go into too much detail since my review of it is supposed to be posted on The Daily Iowan any day now once my editor figures out how to budget space, but amid the quagmire there are things to like. The acting, for one thing, stands out in this movie. Sarandon, though I haven't seen Igby going down on her, is as good as she's been since "Dead Man Walking." Hoffman is as emotionally dead as a father who just lost a daughter can be. Jake Gyllenhaal has become grating with his now-tired rendition of Droopy, but he doesn't ruin the movie. No, director Brad Silberling does that on his own, with an ending so bad he should be strapped down in a chair and forced to watch every episode of every TV show he ever wrote for as punishment, preferably starting with "Judging Amy." But the subject matter is great. That's what I couldn't get over -- how he couldn't make this a great movie. Yeah, dealing with death/grief has been done in "Ordinary People" and "In The Bedroom" and many others. But everyone's reaction to it is different, and the circumstances surrounding this death are so unique I can't believe that there's not more on the screen. Hell, even Alan Ball can make you pay attention for an hour and most of his stuff doesn't really deal with mortality at all. As for "Punch-Drunk Love," I have to confess it was great. I was a doubter, and posted as much quite loudly in the funhouse forum. I think I agree with Sam's post more than Adam's, in that I think it's PTA's best film, but I don't think he's necessarily doing anything groundbreaking. The use of noise rather than soundtrack in places that matched what Barry was going through, and even the use of silence, so quiet you could hear the projector in the back of the theater, was the tops. For me, there wasn't anything awkward about the narrative structure -- PTA had already immersed us so fully in Barry's world by the time things start getting wacky that we understand what's going on if we get Barry's thought process. Still, it's just a damn good film, and yes Sandler and Watson are really good. Maybe not Oscar-worthy but I don't even know what that means, so perhaps. They've certainly gone to lesser performances. I don't believe the car crash at the beginning adds a whole lot to the film, except to let you know you're going on an absurdist ride. Anything can pop into your life including love. Wow, some movie club we've got going here -- everyone agrees about all the movies. Maybe "8 Mile" will get us arguing. One final note, former FBI serial killer profiler Robert Ressler, the real life basis for Clarice Starling in "Silence of the Lambs" and technical advisor to "Copycat" and the TV show "Profiler," gave a lecture in Iowa City last night. Pretty interesting stuff, though it kind of takes the mystery out it (in the movies) when you find out what these guys do. He comes off as you would expect someone who pretty much started the criminal forensic behavior wing at the FBI back in the 70s to be: cocksure, rigid and very technical. He didn't look as hot as Jodie Foster, so that was a letdown for this particular patron. But he has talked with or helped track down nearly every serial killer or mass murderer in the last 40 years. He's not retired, though. Still raking in tons of dough with a private practice and the lecture circuit. What's with Nathan Lane's brother getting a Slate column? They're just handing them out these days.

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QUOTES OF THE DAY - Both from Slate...

It's sad to think that the quintessential Zagat couple will tonight order in "reliable" Chinese food (16) and settle down to watch A Man and a Woman (24), a "romance par excellence." Perhaps in years to come Zagat will offer a survey for what comes after. Try "cunnilingus" (23). "A "wonderful way" to show her "you'll do anything." "You won't leave hungry!"
-- David Edelstein, culturebox

Any movie featuring Hogwarts will be shown at one of the cavernous theatres in central London, most of which seat over a thousand people. I would not dream of claiming precedence over the throngs of viewers who have legitimately gained entrance ahead of me, but, to put the question delicately, who the fuck are they?
-- Anthony Lane, diary

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MORE ON 'PUNCH-DRUNK LOVE' - Sam Hallgren also saw 'Punch-Drunk Love' recently and emailed this response. I'm posting it here not because we had pretty much the same reaction (just as we did on 'Roger Dodger' and 'The Good Girl'; we're obviously drinking from the same tap), but because he found a much more eloquent way of saying it.

Whether or not people respond to this film emotionally, many are certain to respond to its narrative structure with something akin to horror. I don't know much about Aristotle myself, but I imagine it is films like these that have him spinning in his Hellenic grave. But, until more filmmakers chance to make the kind of films that PTA is making, he gets major points for originality and a willingness to explore the possibilities of the medium. I don't know enough about film history to say that he is expanding the pallette (there is plenty of evidence to suggest that he is merely pilfering), but there is something breathtaking (and sure-handed) about his embrace of the absurd. And, where I thought it was used inappropriately and distractingly in "Magnolia," his absurd emotional logic works perfectly in "Punch-Drunk Love." Like any interesting piece of art, the film creates its own sense of reality, its own logic, and by keeping faithful to that logic, he succeeds in making something original. "Punch Drunk" is like the negative image of "Hard Eight," which couldn't leave it's protagonists alone. Couldn't resist punishing them. It wouldn't give them a break. In "Punch Drunk" he still shows a predilection for broken, fucked up people; but this time he gives them every chance to be happy. It is, by far, his best film, because it seems his most honest film. To a fault, Anderson has always loved his loser characters; in this film, he creates a reality that allows him to reward them -- despite everything. If you're cursed with a love for losers, you might as well do them (and yourself) a favor -- make them happy.

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PUNCH-DRUNK LOVE - Since Monday, New Yorker film critic Anthony Lane has been posting a diary over at Slate. Tuesday's entry about the difficulty of the writing process was particularly relevant to me for two reasons. First, while I am usually content (or semi-content) with my finished product, whether it be an article, review or essay, the actual writing process is torturous. It always has been and surely always will be. As Lane so elegantly puts it: "There is a myth at large in the general population, easily quashable yet somehow allowed to persist, that writing comes smoothly, like gas from a pump, or at least unbidden, like tears. This is bull. No decent prose is ever dashed off, especially that which appears to be effortlessly dashing." One of my former journalism profs who used to work at the Chicago Sun-Times said the only writer he ever knew who could come in, sit down, and turn out something without putting himself through pure hell was Roger Ebert, which I guess helps explain why he is able to produce more reviews every week than probably any critic on the planet. The second reason is that it's now been more than a week since I saw P.T. Anderson's 'Punch-Drunk Love' and I'm still not sure how to articulate my reaction. It's a romantic comedy/Hollywood musical that features enough surreal wackiness that it could have been directed by David Lynch -- and I found it, in a word, exhilarating. OK, "exhilarating" may be tinged with a touch of hyperbole, but there are so many movies you see and think, "That was decent. I don't ever want to watch it again, but it was decent." With 'Punch-Drunk' I'm half tempted to shell out $8 to get another look at it. I actually can't recall the last time I felt as much genuine excitement sitting in the theater, not having any clue what was going to happen next and just being along for the ride. Stylistically, Anderson legitimately seems to be breaking new ground here, although one could posit that Wes Anderson has shown us these quirky camera compositions and even quirkier characters before. As you've all surely heard by now, the movie stars Adam Sandler as Barry Egan, a shy loser who is treated with so much indignity by his six overbearing sisters that it's easy to understand why he has a problem controlling his temper. He's like Bruce Banner from 'The Incredible Hulk'; he knows that letting his feelings show will only result in destruction (of sliding glass doors, restaurant bathrooms) so he continually tries to avoid any kind of conflict. His rather mundane life as a self-employed plunger salesman is disrupted one day when a somewhat amazing car accident -- the cause and consequences of which Anderson slyly never reveals -- somehow results in a small instrument similar to a piano being dropped on the street at his feet. The instrument, he learns, is known as a harmonium, and while Anderson is perhaps being a little too obvious here -- Barry is searching for harmony in his life -- the conceit is nevertheless an effective one. But 'Punch-Drunk' is ultimately a love story. Just as the harmonium arrives, Barry meets Lena (Emily Watson), a sweet, slightly peculiar woman who works with one of Barry's sisters. Sometime CS contributor Eric Baker saw the movie last night and I'm hoping that we can engage in some kind of a dialogue about it today because I'm still at a bit of a loss when it comes to explaining why 'Punch-Drunk' had me so enthralled. What I can say is that all of the hype surrounding Sandler's performance is legitimate, primarily because he abandons all of his trademark mannerisms -- no funny voices or goofy faces, and even his fits of rage are not Sandler-esque. For me his best scene occurs late in the film when he is trying to track down Lena's phone number. He calls his sister who, of course, is unable to simply fulfill his request and give him the number without badgering him. Finally, Barry can't take it anymore and yells, "Just give me the number. Just give me the fucking number! Give it to me!" But he does not explode in anger as we've seen him do in his previous comedies. He plays it more like a kidnapper demanding a ransom. Rather than being comical, his exclamation takes on an eery timbre and you immediately understand why his sister quickly complies. Despite all the talk of Sandler not being able to act and Anderson not being able to make anything but overblown, pretentious (to some) films like 'Magnolia' and 'Boogie Nights', 'Punch-Drunk Love' proves all of the doubters wrong. It's one of the best films of the year, even though I'd probably still rank it behind Anderson's three previous efforts -- which is either a testament to how good Anderson is as a filmmaker, or just how bad most movies are these days.
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