CRITICS, WHAT ARE THEY GOOD FOR? - I'm a little more settled into my new job and apartment in Chicago so I can finally get back to blogging. Hopefully, my devoted throng of readers (it's a nice thought, anyway) didn't lose patience with me. My brief hiatus has me playing catch-up on what's going in terms of film commentary -- so behind, in fact, that this post is going to deal with something that was actually published online more than a week ago. But it's too good to ignore, especially since it ultimately calls into question the function of every film "critic" out there, whether it be a little blogger like myself or Roger Ebert. Speaking of Ebert, a reader named Paul Montgomery from Chicago recently wrote into his bi-monthly Movie Answer Man column with this question:

Q. Your review of "Auto Focus" from Telluride was the final straw for me. How you can rave about a film that contains "wall-to-wall sex" escapes me. I guess I'm just a fogie about such matters. Films aren't often being made for people like me, and the critics have forgotten that people like me exist.

This question is truly fascinating, partly because Paul totally misinterpreted Ebert's comments (as we will soon see in Ebert's response), but primarily because the implication is that a film critic should somehow consider his or her audience when reviewing a movie. Moreover, Paul is saying that a critic actually has a duty to try and judge a movie from the audience's perspective. Perhaps you're thinking to yourself, "Isn't that a critic's job...to tell me whether a movie is good or bad so I can decide whether I should pay to see it or not?" Well, no, that's not what a critic is supposed to do. And yet that's exactly how most people I run into see it. And it's not just moviegoers. Here's how Philip Wuntch of the Dallas Morning News explains his approach to film criticism -- or perhaps I should say, film "reviewing" -- in this quaint bio (click on his name; you may have to register to view it):

I THINK THE ROLE OF A CRITIC IS: On the most immediate basis, after I see a film, I put myself in the place of those who pay first-run prices, and maybe pay a baby sitter in order to see a movie. Is it worth it? My first responsibility is to the reader and potential moviegoer. I also hope that somewhere along the line, someone of authority in film making may read something I've written and be informed/enlightened/enraged by what they read. But my foremost responsibility is to the potential moviegoer.

Mr. Wuntch certainly has his heart in the right place, and I hate to be too negative towards him since he took the time to actually respond to my CinemaScoped Critics & Readers Poll 2002, but I can't imagine a more misguided view of film criticism. How does someone actually put themselves "in the place of those who pay first-run prices, and maybe pay a baby sitter to see a movie?" And who are these people? Mr. Wuntch seems to think that a) every person who hires a baby sitter to see a movie (in Dallas, presumably) shares the same taste in movies and b) that he is somehow able to tap into their brains when he reviews a movie. The fact is that not every moviegoer can be packed into such a neat little box, and even if they could, what benefit is there in a critic who simply tries to regurgitate what the supposed masses think about a film. That's not film criticism; that's market research. I'll give another example. My friend Nate Yapp, who writes reviews now for The Daily Iowan and runs the site Classic Horror, is very smart about movies. On one of his old review web sites, he wrote in his statement of purpose (and I'm terribly paraphrasing here) that "if you're tired of self-important critics, this site is for you because it will tell you what you really want to know: 'Will I enjoy myself.' " Now again, I'm not trying to demean Nate or his reviews. The problem with the question Nate poses, however, is that it presupposes that he can tell his readers whether or not they will enjoy a certain movie. But how does Nate know what I, or anyone else for that matter, think is funny, or sad, or thrilling? All Nate can do -- all any critic can do -- is articulate his or her own biases as clearly and consistently as possible. The great irony is that disregarding one's readers is the only way a critic can actually be useful to them. If you really wanted to know whether you might "enjoy" a particular film, all you'd have to do is read the one critic who you always agreed or disagreed with -- the critic who seemed to have the same criteria for judging a movie as you did. And how would you know what a critic truly believed if he simply tried to tell his mass of readers how they'll react to a particular movie -- which, as I said before, isn't really possible anyway. As for Ebert's answer, I'm happy to report he nailed it:

A. I have not forgotten that people like you exist, but I am not you, just as you are not me, and unless I honestly report my own opinion, I am of no use to you or anyone else. I admire Paul Schrader's new film very much; Greg Kinnear is surprisingly effective in charting Bob Crane's self-destruction. Certainly sexual addiction is a valid subject for a movie, but I didn't "rave" about the sex. I wrote: "Schrader somehow succeeds in making a film with wall-to-wall sex in which sadness and loneliness, not passion, is the subject." There is a difference between a movie that is wall-to-wall sex, and a movie that is about it. Here is a crucial rule for anyone seriously interested in movies: It's not what the movie is about that makes it good or bad, but how it is about it.

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NEW FEATURES/PLEA FOR PATIENCE - As you can see, I've added links above to all of the reviews and articles I wrote as the film critic for The Daily Iowan. I've also added links to a sampling of my academic essays on film and a brief biography. Some personal news I should share because it will directly impact my blogging: I'm relocating to Chicago (later today, in fact) from Iowa City to start a new job. The good news is that CS will now be able to cover more independent and arthouse flicks that can only be seen in major cities (right when they open, anyway), in addition to events like the Chicago Internation Film Festival, which runs October 4-18. I've got nothin' but love for Iowa City, but for a movie buff, Chicago has to be one of the most exciting cities in the country to live in. The bad news is that this first week could be kind of sketchy in terms of blogging. I'm moving into temporary housing tonight and have no idea what my Internet access will be like yet. But please be patient. I saw Barbershop over the weekend and still have some thoughts to share on Dangerous Lives of Altar Boys. I'm also eager to address an issue that came up in one of Roger Ebert's recent Movie Answer Man columns -- just who is a film critic supposed to be writing for? I'll have these posts and more up as soon as I get organized in the Windy City. Stay tuned...

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THIS WEEKEND - Periodically a movie comes along that looks perfectly forgettable, if not downright bad, yet the critics surprise you by raving about it. Case in point: Barbershop, a comedy that takes place over one day in a South Side Chicago barbershop. Ice Cube leads a cast that includes Cedric the Entertainer and rapper Eve, making her acting debut. An astounding 46 out of 55 reviews on Rotten Tomatoes are positive. A.O. Scott of the New York Times writes: "The movie's quiet affirmation of neighborhood values gives it an honest, lived-in glow." (Barbershop is rated PG-13.) Salon's usually cantankerous Charles Taylor admits the movie has "a sentimental, preachy side," but goes on to say: "What makes "Barbershop" so likable, with all its flaws, is that it has none of the pushiness and decibel volume of most contemporary comedies (it's nothing like the frenetic bash the trailers make it appear to be). Sitting in a barbershop listening to the neighborhood characters try to out-B.S. one another should be relaxing, a chance to put your feet up and give vent to your gripes, and that's what the movie is." It sounds roughly comparable to Smoke, the Paul Auster-penned movie starring Harvey Keitel and William Hurt -- only with more humor and less philosophical heaviness. I wasn't planning on seeing Barbershop, but the positive critical reaction has me intrigued. On the opposite end of the quality spectrum is Stealing Harvard, starring Jason Lee and Tom Green. Apparently the plot involves Lee and Green trying to steal the money to pay tuition to Harvard for Lee's niece. Why a comedic talent like Lee, best known for his saracastic wit in Kevin Smith's films, would want to co-star with Green is a mystery. 35 out of 38 reviews dismiss the film -- with extreme prejudice. I've seen the previews for this movie multiple times and haven't laughed once. Opening in wider release -- or at least wide enough to finally play in Iowa City/Cedar Rapids -- is One Hour Photo, which features Robin Williams as a psycho photo shop employee who becomes a little too enamored with one of the families whose photos he processes. Williams playing his third nutjob in a row, after Death to Smoochy and Insomnia, is a little troublesome. But the reviews have been mostly positive, and at least he's exploring his dark side a bit, rather than trying to make the world a better place. Does anybody really want to see Patch Adams again?

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PLEASE PARDON THE DUST - No, I'm not just being lazy with my posts...CinemaScoped is currently under construction. I'm working to add links to all of my archived film reviews, articles, and essays. I plan to finish up this weekend and get back to blogging Monday. I should be able to get some comments posted tomorrow morning on this weekend's new releases though. Thanks for your patience.

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EMINEM AND OSCAR? - If you've been ignoring or simply refusing to believe the buzz surrounding rapper Eminem and his upcoming movie 8 Mile, well, it's time to hop on board the hype train. In his report yesterday from the Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF), where 8 Mile debuted, Movie Poop Shoot's Jeffrey Wells praised the first-time actor's portrayal: "Is Eminem's performance as good as tipsters have been claiming? He's better than good -- he's got the kind of natural, unforced charisma that makes you want to study him every moment he's on-screen. But the movie doesn't give him a wide range of emotions -- he mostly plays either angry and guarded, or guarded and angry -- or ask him to dig deeply within and reveal the inner needy child, so the likelihood of acting awards isn’t all that high." Roger Ebert similarly assessed Eminem's performance, though with considerably less glowing prose, in his midterm report on the 27th annual TIFF: "Eminem emerges from the film as a grungy, sympathetic proletarian, although in his next film he could stand to lighten up a little." The movie is based on Eminem's own rough upbringing and ultimate escape from a lower-middle class section of Detroit; the title refers to the road that divides the black part of Detroit from the white suburbs. Eminem's alter ego is named Jimmy Smith (a.k.a "Rabbit"), and the movie starts with him moving back into his destructive mother's (Kim Basinger) trailer. Wells says the movie "rigorously avoids those emotional, spirit-lifting plot turns that movies about kids with musical talent have been known to resort to – i.e., ending up with a record contract, winning the heart of a girl who worships him, etc." I'll be honest, I was initially skeptical about this movie when I first heard about it six months ago or so. Not being a huge fan of Eminem's music, I wasn't all that excited about seeing him act. And what about Curtis "L.A. Confidential-Wonder Boys" Hanson opting to direct? It seemed to me a terrible career move at the time. Then something interesting happened -- I saw the first trailer, and, frankly, it blew me away. (Judging the book after reading a few pages and not from the cover, what a novel idea?) Eminem's acting (for what a few glimpses in a trailer are worth) seemed solid, and the overall tone was gritty and unflinching. It also featured one of the best uses of a song in a trailer -- "Cleaning Out My Closet," a track off Eminem's new album that is also his latest single. It's one of the darkest, unsparingly angry articulations of childhood anger I've ever heard -- and it's catchy to boot. Imagine Sylvia Plath recording a rap album with Dr. Dre as her producer. The second trailer only encouraged my enthusiasm for 8 Mile. It focuses more attention on Jimmy's musical talents than the first one, and showcases an even better track called "Lose Yourself," which will be featured on the movie's soundtrack. 8 Mile opens November 8 and also stars Brittany Murphy and Mekhi Phifer.

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REVIEW: CITY BY THE SEA - I voiced two concerns last week in my preview of City by the Sea, starring Robert DeNiro as a New York City homicide detective (Vincent LaMarca) trying to protect his druggie son, Joey, who is wanted for murder: 1) As Joey, James Franco's considerable talent would be wasted in a role that basically required him to look really grubby, hide in abandoned buildings, and make clandestine calls from pay phones. 2) Director Michael Caton-Jones and screenwriter Ken Hixon would cut out the heart of the movie's source material -- a 1997 Esquire article about the real Vincent LaMarca, his troubled son, and his infamous father who was put to death in the electric chair in 1959 for kidnapping and murdering a baby -- in favor of a more conventional Hollywood story; in other words, they'd forsake character development and dance around the complicated generational angst of this family in order to package it as a suspenseful crime thriller. Surprisingly, the movie almost made me forget both of these concerns -- almost. First, there's actually some substance to Franco's role. The movie opens with his strung-out character trying to hock a guitar on the now-dilapidated Long Beach boardwalk to score some drugs. After "getting well," as they say, Joey and a friend meet a dealer to get some more; a confrontation ensues and the dealer's bloated body is found the next morning washed up by the river. This first section of the film is wholly devoted to Joey and the event that sparks the rest of the story. DeNiro's character doesn't even appear until 15 to 20 minutes in, which I thought was a bold choice considering Vincent is really the central character of the story. It shows that the filmmakers wanted to make Joey a fully-rounded character rather than merely a cog to propel the plot forward. Franco has the same brooding sensibility that James Dean had (he got a Golden Globe nomination last year for playing Dean in a TNT original movie) and he brings some nuance here to the traditional strung-out son character. When he tells his mom (Patti Lupone) that he hates his life as a junkie and wants to get better, we immediately dismiss his claims just as she does because, like her, we've heard it all before (mostly in movies, of course). But Franco seems so genuinely fractured and beaten down that we can't help but sympathize with his character, even if we are just being conned by his charms. Slate's David Edelstein says it better than I can: "Franco is epically strung out: He doesn't have the dead eyes you see in most junkies; his burning orbs signal there's still a soul to save." I also credit Franco for being willing to get so dirty -- and by that I mean physically, though it applies to his character's emotional condition as well. He's so down-and-out that he makes Jared Leto in Requiem For A Dream look like he's going to his senior prom by comparison. You can practically smell the stink coming off him. As for my second concern, City by the Sea is a lot less formulaic and predictable than most critics give it credit for. In fact, up until the last half-hour or so, Caton-Jones stays focused on character over plot, showing how the LaMarca family is unable to break the cycle of anguish caused by Vincent's father. It's worth noting that DeNiro's character spends more time examining his life and the choices he has made -- like never really being a father to Joey after he and Joey's mother went through a bad divorce -- than he does playing cop, piecing together clues to try and prove his son's innocence. It may be the only time in movie history where a cop is told by his commanding officer to get off the case, take a week off, and the cop actually listens! Alas, the traditional crime movie machinations kick in -- the classic "partner killed" plot device is invoked, a drug dealer named Spider (William Forsythe) wants Joey dead for killing his employee -- all of which leads to an awkwardly-staged shoot-out finale that ties everything too neatly together. It ruins what was otherwise a fairly grim, intelligent character study on fathers and sons, and the difficulty of trying to escape one's past.

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SWIMFANS? - There are quite a few people in this country desperate for entertainment as Swimfan somehow managed to top the weekend box office with $12.5 million. My Big Fat Greek Wedding continued its upward trend with $10.5 million, good enough for another second place finish. City by the Sea, the crime drama starring Robert DeNiro, took third with $9 million. I saw City by the Sea late last night and will have a reaction posted this evening.

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THIS WEEKEND - Critics are pretty well split on Robert De Niro's new movie City by the Sea (see yesterday's post for more details). Rotten Tomatoes currently shows 28 negative reviews and 24 positive, though none of those are particularly glowing. The consensus seems to be that this cop drama is formulaic and really nothing better than your average TV movie of the week except for its heavyweight cast -- Deniro, Frances McDormand, and up-and-comer James Franco. Here's how Roger Ebert sums up his 3-star review: "City by the Sea" is not an extraordinary movie. In its workmanship it aspires not to be remarkable but to be well made, dependable, moving us because of the hurt in the hero's eyes." Ebert's next line is the most interesting, having recently read the sharply-crafted Esquire article that inspired the movie: "A better movie might have abandoned the crime paraphernalia and focused on the pain between the generations... Obviously, I can't say Ebert is right or wrong since I haven't seen the film yet. But Mike McAlary's story focuses on just that -- "the pain between the generations" of the LaMarca family -- and not so much on the crime end of it. Leave it to Hollywood to take what could have been a fascinating character study and turn it into more or less just another conventional crime melodrama. Slate's David Edelstein does a nice job summarizing the real-life back story, and how its been altered for the screen. Overall, his praise for the film is faint : "That City by the Sea isn't laughed off the screen is testament to Caton-Jones' attention to actors and to some tightly written scenes...[De Niro] gets his mugging under control and gives a decent performance -- the plainest and maybe the best he has given in a decade or more." I'll see for myself this weekend.
Also opening today is Swimfan -- or as I like to call it, "Erika Christensen's Career Suicide Watch 2002." Is it that hard for a young actress to find work these days that you have to follow-up a strong performance in Traffic by vamping around in this "teen psychodrama" about a stud high school swimmer (Jesse Bradford) who gets in too deep (sorry) with the new girl in town (Christensen)? It's Fatal Attraction meets The Crush, and if Christensen isn't careful, she could soon end up in the "no longer relevant file" along with that movie's young star, Alicia Silverstone. Reviews are exactly what you'd expect -- out of 18 so far, only 2 are positive. Reel's Tor Thorsen is even brave enough to throw out a Hitchcock reference: "On the surface, the film is played straight, with sustained tension and effective frights. But the director has done his research, and fills every scene with a subversive humor that's 100% pure imitation Hitchcock." I suppose watching what amounts to a parody of Hitchcock might be entertaining, though I'm not sure I buy Thorsen's implication that director John Polson had this in mind all along. I'll probably avoid this one, especially since I am heading back to Chicago this weekend. Check back Monday for a review of City by the Sea. Also next week, I'll have reviews of two arthouse flicks available soon on video and DVD -- Y Tu Mama Tambien and The Dangerous Lives of Altar Boys, both finally playing in Iowa City at the Bijou, the University of Iowa's student-run theater.

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WHICH GODFATHER NEEDS A NEW AGENT? - In a review of the recent movie Simone, a local movie critic quite incorrectly stated that Al Pacino "has had a string of forgettable roles over the last 10 years." Everybody knows the 80s were a tough decade for Pacino -- Author! Author!, Sea of Love, Revolution -- but the past 10 years? Something about this comment seemed dubious, so I went to IMDb to check it out. Sure enough, take a look at Pacino's body of work over the past decade: Insomnia (2002), Any Given Sunday (1999), Insider, The (1999), Devil's Advocate, The (1997), Donnie Brasco (1997), Looking for Richard (1996), City Hall (1996), Heat (1995), Carlito's Way (1993), Scent of a Woman (1992), and Glengarry Glen Ross (1992). Of these 11 movies, only 2 could be described as "forgettable" (i.e. bad): The Devil's Advocate and City Hall. More importantly, there are at least five movies on this list that are decidedly unforgettable -- Glengarry, Scent of a Woman, Heat, Donnie Brasco, and The Insider. Simone is a step back, but Pacino's next three movies, all set for 2003 releases, look promising -- The Recruit with Colin Farrell, Gigli, and the movie version of Tony Kushner's acclaimed Broadway play Angels In America. The 70s icon who really needs to reevaluate his choices is Robert De Niro, who stars as a (shock!) New York City homicide detective in City by the Sea (opens tomorrow). De Niro's been much busier than Pacino over the past 10 years -- so much so that I'll simply provide the link rather than list all of the titles -- but to what end? Showtime, Men of Honor, Flawless, 15 Minutes, The Fan -- now those are some truly forgettable movies. Based on the real-life story of Vincent LaMarca, a distinguished cop whose father famously murdered a baby in 1956 and was put to death in the electric chair, City by the Sea at least should be watchable. The story centers around LaMarca's attempts to protect his estranged son (Spider-Man's James Franco), who is on the run after being pegged for murder. It's the kind of role De Niro can sleepwalk through -- haunted, distant, cop, New York -- and, unfortunately, he just might. I'm somewhat optimistic, however, because Franco is a talented, charismatic young actor; let's just hope the movie gives him something to do other than run fast, hide in shadows, and talk on pay phones. If the movie is even half as good as Mike McAlary's riveting 1997 Esquire article that inspired it -- somewhat loosely, from what I gather -- it will be worthwhile. Frances McDormand, George Dzunda, and Eliza Dushku co-star. Michael Caton-Jones (The Jackal, Rob Roy) directs. Click here for the official site.

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BAKER ON BOURNE - CS contributor Eric Baker takes issue with me and the esteemed critic Stanley Kauffman with regard to the realism of The Bourne Identity. I'll post a response after his comments.

* I'm the biggest Stanley Kauffmann fan in the world, especially since reading a collections of his reviews and essays, Regarding Film. In fact, other than M. F. K. Fisher, I think he might be one of the most compelling writers of the last century. But sometimes, like with the quotation below, my BS sensors go off. Kauffmann's prose can flow like honey, but it can also get gummed up. I liked The Bourne Identity as well, but the only thing that's ineluctable about the photography is that it is gimmicky during the action sequences. It doesn't certify anything, except that MTV-style jump-cut editing is necessary when your action star (Matt Damon) is trying to beat up baddies bigger than he is. I'm all for realism -- I find those movies to be consistently the best because they are the easiest to relate to. And in end, I think Kauffmann agrees; here's an excerpt of his review of Pulp Fiction (newly released on DVD):

"Some of the action strains belief in a picture that dwells mostly in the naturalistic realm. On her night out, Thurman takes a life-threatening overdose of heroin, is revived at someone's house with a jolt of adrenaline straight to the heart, then is taken home by Travolta and dropped off as if it had been an ordinary date. I suppose there's meant to be some burlesque edge to this sequence, but even so, it's pretty farfetched. More matter-of-fact glitches: guns are fired in residential areas, and no neighbors seem to hear them. Willis kills a man, wipes the gun free of his fingerprints, and then puts his prints on a doorknob. etc."

To be clear, if I was rating The Bourne Identity on the Tomatometer, it would be "fresh." But I don't think Kauffmann is being completely truthful about one of the major downfalls with the movie. People were laughing during the action scenes when I saw it. *

CS response: Eric and I have had this debate before and I'd be curious to know what readers think. There were laughs during some of the first few Matt Damon fight scenes when I saw the movie too. But Eric was and is still wrong to construe these laughs as having anything to do with a lack of realism. When Damon quickly unarms two officers in a park, for example -- the first time we see any hand-to-hand combat -- the humor stems from the fact that he is just as startled as we are at how skilled he is as a fighter. (Remember, he has amnesia and at this point doesn't have any idea who he is or why he has this ability.) Liman deliberately pauses on Damon's reaction so we can see the surprise on his face. To repeat a phrase, we're not laughing at him -- we're laughing with him. Eric seems to think it's unintentional comedy, whereas I say Liman got exactly the reaction he wanted from the audience. I also wouldn't describe any of the cutting in The Bourne Identity as "MTV-style jump-cut editing." Liman does, I think, speed up the action during some of the fight scenes. But jump cuts? I'd have to watch it again, but I don't think so. In fact, and maybe someone can help me out here, doesn't the fight scene in question occur in one take? As Kauffman said, "When Bourne disposes handily of three armed opponents, we see it, don't we?" We do. And the beauty of it is that Liman doesn't try to disguise it with a flurry of cuts.

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MUSINGS ON BOURNE AND BLOGS - Last week when I announced the results of the CinemaScoped Critics & Readers Poll (8/26, scroll down), I omitted one of my favorite films of the year so far -- in addition to About a Boy, Signs, and Thirteen Conversations About One Thing -- The Bourne Identity. It's XXX minus the lobotomy and James Bond without the paint-by-numbers story and characters. Doug Liman's (Swingers, Go) direction is stylish without being flashy and he proves that you can make an engrossing, action-packed spy thriller that isn't just explosions and special effects. The quiet, tense confrontation scene in a field between Matt Damon and Clive Owen near the end is the antithesis of the modern Hollywood fight/chase scene -- and 100 times more effective. As usual, The New Republic's Stanley Kauffman (7/3) articulated better than anyone else what makes the film so successful:

"The tenuous moments in The Bourne Identity -- such as Bourne's karate disposal of multiple armed enemies, or a man bursting into a room through the window of a fourth-floor apartment -- soar on that innate power, because the essence of film is realism. Even trick photography photographs the tricks, sweeps them into the real. Digital maneuverings, special effects, are all embraced in the camera's ineluctable realism. The camera certifies the existence of what it looks at: the bedrock of film is factuality. When the Lumière brothers showed a train arriving at a station in 1895, there could be little question in the audience that this was a real train. They saw it. When Bourne disposes handily of three armed opponents, we see it, don't we? We may know in a corner of our brains that this action would be unlikely in life; but we accept it here because the camera's currency is fact. In a way we are grateful to the film medium for giving such moments their being."

And I'm grateful to CS Chicago correspondent Sam Hallgren for reminding me how good this movie was. One online source says The Bourne Identity will be released on DVD December 3. No word yet on extra features.

For readers who might be more interested in blogs than movies -- or, at least, my ramblings about movies -- there's a pretty great e-mail discussion about weblogging going on over at Slate between uber-media pundits Andrew Sullivan -- a senior editor at The New Republic and A-list blogger -- and Kurt Andersen, the author of Turn of the Century and the host of the public radio program "Studio 360." Sullivan started the exchange yesterday and Andersen responded. Sullivan's next post should be up this afternoon and the discussion will continue throughout the week. This feature on Slate -- take two intellectuals/pundits/writers/whatever and have a colloquium of sorts over e-mail -- has always been one of the zine's most endearing features, I think. The end of the year "Movie Club" between David Edelstein, Roger Ebert, A.O. Scott, and Sarah Kerr (and sometimes Jonathan Rosenbaum) is always provocative and entertaining. (Click here for last year's Movie Club). Slate asked Andersen and Sullivan to discuss the Weblog phenomenon in relation to two new books, We've Got Blog: How Weblogs Are Changing Our Culture and The Weblog Handbook. Fortunately, they spend more time dishing their opinions on weblogging and how it has affected our culture than they do discussing the above-mentioned texts. Call me a geek, but is there anything more fun than reading really smart, arrogant individuals speak their mind while also taking pointed snipes at one another? For example, Andersen had this to say in yesterday's exchange:

"Too many bloggers remind me of Dennis Millers manqué or the comic-book store owner on The Simpsons ... combined, in the Rebecca Bloods of the world, with Mr. Van Driessen, Beavis and Butt-head's hippie teacher. In other words, passionate and smart but also irritating and smug and faintly, inescapably sad. (andrewsullivan.com is not a bit sad, of course, although as salutary as ad hoc, post-publication fact-checking by bloggers may be, your harping on Howell Raines—e.g., eight mentions in the last week—and the New York Times does seem unnecessarily predictable and self-congratulatory.)"

Of course, now that I read that passage again, I wonder how much of Andersen's blog assessment -- "passionate and smart but also irritating and smug and faintly, inescapably sad" -- could be used to describe CinemaScoped. Too much is my guess.

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REVIEW: MY BIG FAT GREEK WEDDING - I realize that probably 95% of you have already seen this big fat Greek hit, but its jaw-dropping success compels me to post a few comments. My Big Fat Greek Wedding had its highest showing at the box office last weekend -- its 20th week of release -- finishing #2 behind Signs with $14.5 million. With a budget of under $5 million and a box office take of $82 million (and rising!) to date, it has to be one of the most profitable movies of all-time. I finally saw the surprise hit about a week ago and I can say that while it by no means blew me away, I certainly understand why it has generated so much positive word-of-mouth. It's cute, funny, and it touches on subjects almost everyone over the age of 20 can relate to: falling in love, figuring out your purpose in life, and, of course, the torture of trying to stage a wedding these days -- whether your family is Greek or otherwise. Based on her one-woman play, Greek Wedding stars Nia Vardalos as Toula, a frumpy, unmarried thirty-something who hates working at her family's Greek restaurant and dreams of changing her life. Her family wants her to find a nice Greek boy and start pumping out kids, but Toula decides to enroll in college classes and use her computer skills to work at her aunt's travel agency. In the meantime, she pulls one of those 80s movie geek-to-hottie routines -- dumps the glasses, gets her hair done, buys some new clothes -- and suddenly, the self-conscious ugly duckling blossoms into a confident swan. Toula's transformation attracts the attention of a high school English teacher named Ian (John Corbett); the problem is, he's not Greek, which her fanatically patriotic father has some trouble accepting. A few weeks ago somebody wrote in to Roger Ebert's Movie Answer Man complaining that they couldn't swallow the fact that a "hunk" like Corbett (Northern Exposure, Sex and the City) would fall in love with Vardalos' character -- that she isn't attractive enough. Ebert rightfully rebuked the reader, though not for the same reasons I would. In my opinion, Corbett just isn't all that "hunky," while Vardalos is definitely attractive enough to garner the affections of a good-looking guy. (Click here to see Corbett and here to see Vardalos.) My complaint would be that Ian isn't too good-looking -- he's just too good. He's one of these dream guys that's cute but sensitive, smart but not pedantic, confident but unassuming, and he always says the right thing and supports Toula even when he has good reason to show a hint of anger or impatience. (Quick digression: Is it just me, or is every high school English teacher portrayed as the "perfect guy" in movies?) I hate to disrespect my gender, but as most women will probably tell you, guys like this simply do not exist. It's a total fantasy, and yet the relationship works because of the chemistry between Corbett and Vardalos. I actually enjoyed and laughed more at their courtship scenes than I did the over-the-top scenes with Toula's loud, abrasive family. Admittedly, a lot of the jokes in these scenes are pretty funny, but there are many others that scream "one woman show." The film is also too earnest at times and relies on a few too many cliches. The scene where Toula's boneheaded brother, a cook in the family restaurant who has a knack for drawing, tells Toula that she has inspired him to go to school and take art classes, oozes greeting card sappiness. Even worse is his parting bit of advice not to let her family run her life, but to never forget where she came from. I would have written the actual quote down but I think I was too much in awe of her brother's Confucious-like wisdom to grab my pen. I'm ripping on this movie now and I don't really mean to. If you haven't seen it yet, check it out, I doubt you'll be disappointed. The love story is charming enough and most of the jokes work, especially if you've ever had the misfortune of having to plan a wedding.

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THIS WEEKEND - If Skeet Ulrich is the poor man's Johnny Depp, does that make Stephen Dorff the poor man's Skeet Ulrich? I'm not sure Dorff even deserves that title based on his movie output in 2002. First there was the much-vilified 50s street gang flick Deuces Wild, and now Fear Dot Com, the movie that will officially send summer out with a whimper. I'd provide my own synopsis here, but this movie sounds so incredibly repugnant I can't bring myself to expend the energy. Here's how Rotten Tomatoes explains it: "When four bodies are discovered among the industrial decay and urban grime of New York City, brash young detective Mike Reilly (STEPHEN DORFF) teams with ambitious Department of Health researcher Terry Huston (NATASCHA MCELHONE) to uncover the cause behind their violent and inexplicable deaths. The only common factor shared by the victims? Each died exactly 48 hours after logging on to feardot.com." I like this description, though, because it further proves a theory I have that every young New York City detective is required by law to be described as "brash." No big surprises on the critical front -- 16 reviews so far and only 1 positive, from Luke Y. Thompson of the New Times Los Angeles who embarrassingly admits that "Fear dot com's thrills are all cheap, but they mostly work." For me, the only thing worse than actually having to sit through this movie might be reading all of the critics who diss the movie with clever computer puns:

"Press the delete key."
-- NEW YORK POST

"Anyone not into high-tech splatterfests is advised to take the warning literally, and log on to something more user-friendly."
-- SAN JOSE MERCURY NEWS

"As scary and minor-chord heavy as FearDotCom can be, there's no big payoff, no logical resolution. It's like waiting for a site to download, only to find that when it happens, anticipation was more than half of the empty thrill."
-- CHICAGO TRIBUNE

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BIRTHDAY MOVIES - Your friendly neighborhood CS is a year older today, which isn't important except that it got me thinking about birthday movies and whether there are enough movies centered around birthdays to establish a genre. The only one that immediately comes to mind is John Hughes' 80s classic Sixteen Candles. If you can think of any others, e-mail me at CinemaScoped@hotmail.com or start a discussion in the Feedback Forum.

2:33: Ben Murphy from Milwaukee suggests the Nicole Kidman movie Birthday Girl, which featured Ben Chaplin as a boring Brit who orders himself a mail-order bride from Russia. I never saw it and can't say I plan to, but at least I know what to ask for next year.

RETURN OF QT - "Celebratory in its approach to violence (and with a body count far higher than that of "Pulp Fiction"), it is rife with severed limbs and flying gore." What, you thought Quentin Tarantino's next movie was going to be a light-hearted romantic comedy? That's how the New York Times describes Tarantino's long-awaited next film, Kill Bill, in a recent piece titled "Return of a Violence Auteur". Kill Bill stars Uma Thurman as a pregnant bride and professional assassin -- yes, you read that right -- who is shot and left for dead on her wedding day. Did I mention that the guy who pulled the trigger was none other than her groom-to-be, Bill, who is also a professional assassin? This is either the worst case of cold feet in history, or the textbook example for why people in the workplace should never get romantically involved. After five years in a coma, the Bride (her actual name is never used) wakes up with only one thing on her mind -- no, not a glass of water or plate of prime-rib; she wants revenge. Warren Beatty was originally slated to play Bill, but dropped out and was replaced by David Carradine, a likely favorite of Tarantino's from the 70s TV show Kung Fu. Never one to try and hide his influences, here's what the Times says about QT's upcoming ode to gore:

"Kill Bill," in contrast, pays homage to the "grindhouse" exploitation films produced by the Shaw brothers of Hong Kong and others. Unlike the current hits, which avoid serious bloodshed, these cult films — from spaghetti Westerns like Sergio Leone's "A Fistful of Dollars" to the Shaws' kung-fu classic "The Five Deadly Venoms" — revel in the details of violence, whether by gun, sword or fist.

Anyone hoping for CS to go against conventional wisdom here and suggest that Kill Bill doesn't sound like a very good film, or that Tarantino is unoriginal and crude, let me apologize now. Like most critics and assorted movie geeks, I'm a huge fan of all three of his previous films -- Reservoir Dogs, Pulp Fiction, and Jackie Brown, all recently released (finally!) in special edition DVD sets -- and if anyone can make me enjoy watching a movie "rife with severed limbs and flying gore," it's Tarantino. The film is scheduled to premiere at Cannes in May, with a release date slated for Oct. 10, 2003. All the latest Tarantino hype/info can be found over at Ain't It Cool News. Harry Knowles is actually on the set of Kill Bill in China and is sending back daily diary entries. I'd recommend them except I'm still trying to wade through his comments. Is there anyone more in need of an editor than this guy? The entries are called "set reports," but all I gleaned from the first one was how sexy his Chinese waitress was and how Beijing is a lot like Austin. And here I thought one of the most fascinating filmmakers in recent cinema history was shooting his first project in six years.

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REVIEW: THE GOOD GIRL - On my way to Chicago late last Thursday night with CS contributor Eric Baker, I stopped off in Rock Falls, IL, for some fast food. It was almost closing time and the 30-something woman taking our order had the face of someone who wasn't happy with her position in life, but wasn't necessarily that unhappy either. She simply seemed indifferent. "At what point does someone just abandon their dreams and accept their role working night-in, night-out at the Rock Falls Burger King?", I asked Eric, trying hard not to be smug, as we got in the car. A few miles down the road we hit our first toll booth and I wondered, as I do every time, whether there is a more lonely and tedious job on the planet than toll booth collector. At this point I still wasn't planning to see The Good Girl during my trip to Chicago, but looking back on it now, it seems almost pre-determined. Of all the characters in Miguel Arteta's often-hilarious take on life in a small Texas town, only one, a Salinger-obsessed writer named (what else?) Holden, is still hanging onto a dream. Unfortunately, his passion and intensity are obscured by the fact that he's an immature, manic depressive, no-talent hack. Everyone else working at the fabulously-named Retail Rodeo seems blissfully ignorant of their mundane existences except Justine (Jennifer Aniston), a 30-year-old cashier with a dimwitted husband, Phil (John C. Reilly), who spends more time numbing his brain with pot than he does with her. [As an aside, Phil's lack of interest in sex with Justine ranks a close second on the Unbelievable Subplot scale to Mike McGlone cheating on Aniston in Ed Burns' terrible She's The One.] Inevitably, Justine and Holden make a connection and begin an affair that involves daily dalliances at a local motel. When her husband's best friend Bubba (Tim Blake Nelson) uncovers the relationship, Justine breaks it off, sending the unhinged Holden into a fit of fixation and heartache. I had doubts about The Good Girl from the opening shot of the Retail Rodeo, accompanied by Aniston's voice-over (which you can hear the first part of by going here and clicking on 'the story'). Voice-overs are generally abused by filmmakers attempting to add perspective and insight where it is usually lacking; add to it Aniston's not-quite-right Texas drawl, and I was contemplating a rush to the exit sign. Fortunately, her accent improves and Arteta uses the voice-over sparingly throughout the rest of the movie. What makes The Good Girl worth seeing is its laugh-out-loud, cynical screenplay and eccentric ensemble of supporting characters. Along with Reilly and Nelson, screenwriter Mike White (Chuck & Buck) is very funny as a bible-thumping security guard who tells Justine that "other than the usual stuff, his bible study group doesn't preach fire and brimstone." When she nicely explains that she likes to have her nights to herself, he shoots back with a smile, "Well, maybe you'll have your nights of eternal hellfire to yourself too." Zooey Deschanel, who played William Miller's rebellious sister in Almost Famous, almost steals the whole movie as an ill-mannered, acid-tongued cashier who gets sent to work in cosmetics after too many rude remarks over the store's intercom. It's worth the price of admission alone just to watch her cake make-up on an old lady's face while reassuring her that the look is all the rage in Paris right now -- "It's called cirque de face, which means circus of the face." But The Good Girl's mordant wit is perhaps its ultimate flaw. You can laugh at people you care about; to care about someone you are constantly laughing at -- and not necessarily with -- is quite a bit more difficult. Here it's not just the minor characters who Arteta helps us feel superior to, but the main characters as well. Holden, played with perfect Gen-Y poutiness by Jake Gyllenhaal (Donnie Darko), isn't really named Holden at all. His name is Tom; he just likes to envision himself as Holden Caulfield, fighting against the phoniness of the world. And while we admire Justine for trying to improve her life, her awakening only serves to inflict great pain on almost everyone she comes in contact with -- which would be forgivable except that, in the end, she seems to have learned nothing from her mistakes.

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CINEMASCOPED CRITICS & READERS POLL RESULTS - The summer movie season officially ends this weekend -- according to the current double-issue of Entertainment Weekly, anyway, which starts its Fall Movie Calendar on Sept. 6 -- so now seems like the perfect time to post the results of the first CinemaScoped Critics & Readers Poll. Just over two weeks ago I e-mailed 34 newspaper, magazine, and online movie critics and asked them to tell me 1) their favorite film of the year so far and 2) the movie they are most looking forward to. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a bit disappointed with the response. Only 11 of those 34 wrote me back, and two of them are former colleagues of mine from The Daily Iowan. Alas, only 2 readers felt compelled to submit their votes. However, CS understands that everyone, professional critic or otherwise, has busy schedules. I would sincerely like to thank all of the critics and readers who took the time to respond. If you missed your chance to vote but still want to voice your opinion, e-mail me at CinemaScoped@hotmail.com. I'll publish all of the late responses sometime in the next week or two.

Before jumping to the results, I suppose I should share my picks. Like many of the respondents, I was unable to narrow down my answers to just one movie. But hey, it's my poll and I'll cop-out if I want to.

Best Film(s): In alphabetical order, my favorite films of the year so far are: About a Boy, Signs (reviewed 8/6), and Thirteen Conversations About One Thing (scroll down for review).
Most Looking Forward To: Also in alphabetical order: 8 Mile, Confessions of a Dangerous Mind, Gangs of New York, and Punch-Drunk Love. (I'll highlight each of these films in more detail in the coming weeks.)

CRITICS

Jeffrey Anderson, San Francisco Examiner
Best Film(s): My favorites so far (in order): I'm Going Home, Werckmeister Harmonies, Spirited Away, Last Orders, Possession, Spider-Man, What Time Is It There, The Rookie, and Minority Report.
Most Looking Forward To: Brian De Palma's "Femme Fatale", Martin Scorsese's "Gangs of New York", Paul Schrader's "Auto Focus", Francois Ozon's "8 Women", Paul Thomas Anderson's "Punch Drunk Love," Spike Jonze's "Adaptation," George Clooney's "Confessions of a Dangerous Mind," and, of course, the new Bond and Star Trek flicks...Also David Cronenberg's "Spider," but I don't think that has a distributor yet. Same with Roman Polanski's "The Pianist."

Eric Baker, The Daily Iowan/CinemaScoped contributor
Best Film: Thirteen Conversations About One Thing
Most Looking Forward To: The Two Towers

Rob Blackwelder, SPLICEDwire
Best Film(s): 1) Lagaan: Once Upon a Time In Inida 2) The Rookie 3) Italian for Beginners 4) waydowntown 5) Igby Goes Down
Most Looking Forward To: Secretary, Invincible, Heaven, Frida, The Weight of Water, Die Another Day, Solaris, About Schmidt, Adaptation, Punch-Drunk Love, The Two Towers, Gangs of New York, Confessions of a Dangerous Mind, The Pianist

Chris Hewitt, St. Paul Pioneer Press
Best Film: Frailty
Most Looking Forward To: N/A

Glenn Lovell, San Jose Mercury News
Best Film: "Frailty" in a walk
Most Looking Forward To: N/A

Lou Lumenick, New York Post
Best Film(s): Minority Report
Most Looking Forward To: Gangs of New York

Rick McGinnis, Movieblog
Best Film(s): The best film I've seen all year was Jia Zhangke's "Platform". I've made two big discoveries so far in 2002 -- Bollywood and Sixth Generation Chinese cinema. Of course, "discovering" them was like suddenly noticing the Rocky Mountains or the Mississippi, but "Platform" was a real highlight for me, all the more impressive since it wasn't exactly short, and hardly a thrill-a-minute action film, so it had to be good to keep me rapt from beginning to end. I like a film that tells me a bit about the world that I couldn't have imagined, and Jia's film was like a history lesson on China through the post-Mao period, told from a distant spot in the provinces, not from the centre, in Beijing or Shanhai.
Most Looking Forward To: I'm looking forward to the remake of The Four Feathers -- an epic adventure tale set in British colonial north Africa -- and Michael Moore's Bowling for Columbine. I'm curious how well Moore will deal with the "changed" America after 9/11. Will people have any patience for his brand of patriotic skepticism any more? We'll see. As for The Four Feathers, I'd be a bit less interested if it weren't directed by Shekhar Kapur (Bandit Queen, Elizabeth); a colonial tale directed by a citizen of a former colony -- it's got to have something going for it, right? Anyway, those are my answers, and I'm sticking to them.

Bruce Newman, San Jose Mercury News
Best Film: Road to Perdition
Most Looking Forward To: Confessions of a Dangerous Mind

Steven Rosen, Denver Post
Best Film(s): As far as Hollywood movies go, the best this year for me is Insomnia. For foreign, there have been numerous good ones -- Y Tu Mama Tambien, Fast Runner, Late Marriage.
Most Looking Forward To: I'm especially looking forward to The Hours.

Philip Wuntch, Dallas Morning News
Best Film: Road to Perdition
Most Looking Forward To: N/A

Nate Yapp, The Daily Iowan/Classic Horror
Best Film: Spider-Man
Most Looking Forward To: Confessions of a Dangerous Mind

READERS

Joe Horaney, Iowa City, IA
Best Film: 1. Signs 2. About a Boy
Most Looking Forward To: The Two Towers

Kymm Zuckert, New York, NY
Best Film: Favourite movie so far this year is tricky, because though I have liked many movies this year, there hasn't been one that I have become obsessed with, like Moulin Rouge and Ghost World last year, or Gladiator and X-Men the year before. I can easily tell you the one that I hated the most -- that was the loathsome Chelsea Walls, which had me praying for death about five minutes into it. I think I'll go with About a Boy, which I thought was simply marvelous.
Most Looking Forward To: Just one? I am looking forward to many movies, Solaris and Ghost Ship and Red Dragon and Welcome to Collinwood and and and (see me cheating by mentioning more than one?)... but the one that I am most looking forward to seeing, the one that I will see on opening day is: Secretary. James Spader AND bondage in the workplace? Life doesn't get any better than that.

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The post below was scheduled to be published Friday morning -- apparently, I didn't hit the right button. My apologies to anyone wondering why the hell I didn't write anything on Friday. As it turns out, I did not make it to the Wilco doc, I Am Trying To Break Your Heart, during my weekend trip to Chicago. I did see 24 Hour Party People and Miguel Arteta's The Good Girl, with Jennifer Aniston and Jake Gyllenhaal. Look for those reviews later in the week. This afternoon I'll post the CinemaScoped Critics & Readers Poll results of the best film of the year so far, and the most eagerly-anticipated upcoming film.

THIS WEEKEND - Summer is almost over -- which means, remarkably, that the movies actually get worse. Studios release all their sure-to-be stinkers just before Oscar season, treating moviegoers to such dreck as the Matthew Perry-Liz Hurley "comedy" Serving Sara and Undisputed, the prison boxing movie with Ving Rhames and Wesley Snipes. Also opening today is Andrew Niccol's (Gattaca, Truman Show) Simone. Al Pacino, Hollywood satire...sounds good, right? Well, it did on paper. All the previews, however, have looked perfectly dreadful. CS is on the road in Chicago this weekend hoping to catch some higher-brow fare like the Wilco documentary, I Am Trying To Break Your Heart, and Michael Winterbottom's 24 Hour Party People. Check back next week for reviews.

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REVIEW: BLUE CRUSH - Since CS contributor Eric Baker hasn't shut up about Blue Crush since he saw first saw the trailer a few months ago, I decided to enlist his help in writing this review -- which will actually be a dialogue of sorts. We'll exchange our thoughts about the movie throughout the day, or at least until we run out of ways to say that Kate Bosworth is hot. If you'd like to join the discussion, please post your thoughts in the Feedback Forum. Now, before I (further) offend any female readers, I'll turn it over to Eric.

Eric (10:52 AM): Blue Crush isn't going to find its way onto a Sight and Sound list anytime soon, but it is what it is -- feel-good summer eye candy. The acting is passable, though the script is completely predictable. It's true Kate Bosworth is hot, and director John Stockwell knows what sells movies so he keeps most of the main cast -- Bosworth, Michelle Rodriguez, and Sanoe Lake, who is a professional surfer -- in skimpy outfits throughout the movie. Still, as I'm sure the learned CS will tell us, the audience last night was mainly female, and this is primarily a women's empowerment film (at least that's how it's being promoted). I don't buy it. First, there's a subplot with an NFL quarterback (Matthew Davis) who happens to be in Hawaii for a week for the Pro Bowl. Of course, he sweeps her off her feet. I'd like to believe we live in an age where you can make a movie about strong women without throwing in the Cinderella fantasy. But unless you've got sturdy writing and acting talent, like Thelma and Louise, I don't think guys are going to go see this kind of movie unless there is action or babes; and I don't think women are going to see it unless there is a romantic subplot -- which is a shame because what they presumably paid all the money for, the incredible surfing shots, were pretty cool, even though it was noticeable when Bosworth's stunt double was surfing the "pipe" rather than her. The movie probably would have appealed to me more in an IMAX setting, but the dinky theater I viewed it in still did it justice. In the final analysis, it made me want to go surf. Maybe that wasn't super-producer Brian Grazer's goal, but it's something, right?

Adam (12:55 PM): The idea of having a "serious" discussion about this movie is almost as laughable as Matt Davis -- who was very good in Tigerland, by the way -- being an NFL quarterback. Nevertheless, I must respectfully disagree with your contention that Blue Crush does not live up to its feminist billing. It's true that the white knight comes to sweep her off her feet. However, the romance between Anne Marie and Matt is left wide open when the movie ends. He doesn't say, "Hey, let's get married," or "Why don't you come back to the mainland with me and live in my QB mansion?" I think it's perfectly reasonable to expect -- and the movie, in fact, suggests -- that Matt and Anne Marie would not end up staying together. You'll recall that during the "big speech" portion of the movie, when Anne Marie confronts Matt about their future, or lack thereof, the conversation moves away from love and ends up being about her own personal goals. Matt asks her what she wants and her answer includes things like, "Being able to pay all my bills in the same month," "See a woman on the cover of Surf magazine," and, of course, "Win the Pipe Masters competition" that she has been training for. Not one of her aspirations involved meeting the perfect guy or, more specifically, becoming his wife. I agree that the movie is entirely predictable and loaded with cliches, but I never felt insulted by Blue Crush -- not in the way, say, XXX offended me. I'd call it a "guilty pleasure" except it may actually be too well-made. I can't see myself flipping channels some Sunday afternoon, seeing Blue Crush on the screen, and becoming glued to it like one does with truly great stupid movies like, oh I dont know, Road House or Diggstown. (Lawdog, I'll be waiting for your post in the Feedback Forum.)

Eric (1:45 PM): Well at least you still respect me. I have to disagree with your characterization of Blue Crush for two reasons -- though I also can't believe we're attempting to have a serious discussion about this movie.
1. The "big speech" is totally contrived. She goes into the hotel wading pool in her dress because the clock struck midnight on her Cinderella fantasy, and we're supposed to believe she is a strong woman? Everything leading up to her declaration about what she really wants in life sounds like a plea for help -- I suppose to make her "turnaround" all the more dramatic, but the dialogue was just to clunky for me. Anne Marie: "What should I do?" Matt: "Why don't you tell me what you want to do?" Anne Marie: "OK. I want to . . ." 2. The movie in no way suggests that they don't end up staying together. Anne Marie's goals are never listed as mutually exclusive of Matt, and in fact the QB and his O Line buddy Leslie end up at the Pipe Masters competition where Anne Marie ends up "laying some pipe." Add to that the closing shot, which has Anne Marie playing tonsil hockey with Matt as photographers snap away, and you've got Hollywood circa 1940. Speaking of dogs, where are my dawgs in the Feedback Forum, yo?

Adam (3:05 PM): I didn't realize anybody was speaking about dogs. Anyway, the actual ending to that exchange was Matt saying: "Just be the girl I met on the beach who would never ask a guy what to do next." So she got confused and needed a man's perspective to get her head screwed back on straight. I see what you are saying about the Hollywood ending, but I still say the movie pretty clearly makes the case that if forced to choose between her man and her surfboard, she wouldn't have to think about it very long. You've come a long way, baby. To close out this little dialogue, I wanted to mention something that did disappoint me about the movie. You say the surfing shots "were pretty cool." But the movie doesn't show a lot of surfing so much as it does people getting "crushed." I understand that the movie is focused on a specific area of Oahu and a competition known for its awesome and dangerous waves, but standing up and falling down isn't exactly surfing. It sort of became like watching figure skating to me -- not that I, um, ever watch figure skating. There's little creative distinction in the skaters' routines; you're basically just waiting for someone to wipe out. Same thing here. You don't even see Anne Marie prove herself on a decent-sized wave until the very end. We're just supposed to believe that she can do it, but chooses not to because she is still trying to get over a near-drowning incident three years before. Speaking of which, I did like how every time she got introduced somebody had to point out that she was a promising surfer before she suffered a "near-drowning incident three years before." It's sort of like being Pete Best and having everyone introduce you as, "Pete Best, the drummer for The Beatles before they replaced him with Ringo Starr."

FULL FRONTAL = NOT-SO-FULL THEATERS - I heard a radio report this morning calling Steven Soderbergh's little digital experiment, Full Frontal, one of the biggest bombs of the summer. I don't know if that's completely fair. Box Office Mojo estimates Harrison Ford's K-19: The Widowmaker cost $100 million to make, with an additional $35 million spent on marketing. It didn't work. To date the film has made just $33.8 million. That's not a bomb. That's a nuclear meltdown...which is fitting, I suppose, considering the movie's subject matter. By comparison, Full Frontal cost about $2 million with another $2 million for promotion. Granted, it's only grossed $1.9 million in three weeks, but Miramax will surely at least break even in the end. There's no doubt the film has been a disappointment, however. After opening the movie in New York and L.A., Miramax hoped to expand to other cities on a wave of critical adulation and positive word-of-mouth. Instead, the critics tore it apart and the movie has been losing momentum. Last week it played on ten fewer screens than the previous week and saw its receipts drop 38%. A slight Soderbergh backlash had to be expected. Already a critical darling after Out of Sight (1998) and The Limey (1999), the overwhelming success in 2000 of Traffic and Erin Brockovich -- which made him the first director since Michael Curtiz to be nominated for Best Director twice in the same year -- propelled him to the top of Hollywood's A-List. Soderbergh's next movie is a remake of Solaris, the 1972 Russian science-fiction film directed by Andrei Tarkovsky, based on the book by Stanislaw Lem. It stars Soderbergh favorite and production partner George Clooney, and is scheduled to open wide the Wednesday before Thanksgiving (11/27). In a five-part interview with Film Threat, Soderbergh recently described Solaris as "a combination of 2001 and Last Tango In Paris." It doesn't exactly sound like box office gold, does it? Fortunately, Soderbergh isn't content -- and never was -- with being a Hollywood hit producer. The line for Solaris may be small, but I'll be one of the first people in it.

* Thanks to Full Frontal's poor reception, it has yet to play on a screen anywhere near me. But CS Chicago correspondent Sam Hallgren contributed this astute review:

If the idea of experimentation in film does not, or has not ever interested you, you will likely find Steven Soderbergh's new film Full Frontal unnecessarily... messy: The cinematography is messy; the narrative is messy; even the acting is messy. Inspired in part by the legacy of Dogme 95 filmmakers like Lars von Trier and Thomas Vinterberg (click here to learn how to make a Dogme film), the film was shot, for the most part, on digital video and edited on a Mac with DigiPro. Unlike many of the films that have come out of the Dogme 95 school, however, Full Frontal won't make you feel like you've just been molested. It's less an experiement, really, than it is, or appears to be, an opportunity for Soderbergh to blow off some steam - to make a movie without the pressure to make $100 million.

Soderbergh seems to need this play-time. For a relatively young filmmaker, his filmography is already littered with no-budget one-offs that aren't intended for mass consumption (Schizopolis, The Limey). His best films - Out of Sight and, too a lesser degree, Traffic - feature the best of both his pop and his experimental instincts. I think it's a great gift to cinephiles that one of the very best young directors working in Hollywood spends his time between big-budget studio projects, not by taking a 4-year hiatus, but by making a small film that allows him to push the boundaries of his craft. You may not like watching a grainy Julia Roberts mope around for two hours. And you may not understand the movie-within-a movie narrative that Soderbergh plays with. You may, in fact, wonder what the point of the whole thing is at all. But never once did I question Soderbergh's commitment to the piece.

According to the movie's advertising, Full Frontal offers a look at behind-the-scenes Hollywood. While offering some of that, it's really the least interesting part of the film (the exception is a wonderful scene between Julia Roberts - playing an actress - and her assistant. (It's the most honest and funny bit of acting I've ever seen Roberts do). The rest of the film works the periphery of the entertainment industry, offering choice bits to Catherine Keener (doing an occasionally inspired variation on her Being John Malkovich character) as a quickly unraveling HR director, and the movie-stealing Nicky Katt as a pretentious actor starring in an unintentional homage to Springtime for Hitler.

To Soderbergh's credit, the actors don't sabotage the film by having too much fun or by winking at the camera; but Soderbergh is winking - too often he reminds you that you're watching a movie. And this, really, is the film's biggest flaw: It doesn't take itself quite seriously enough to sustain the narrative (what there is of one to begin with).

Full Frontal is flawed, but I expect that this was the point. Experimentation is very often synonymous with self-indulgence, but I have always found Soderbergh a particularly unselfish director. He likes actors; he likes stories; and he respects his audience. If Full Frontal is marketed correctly, the film will get an audience that parallels its (tiny) budget - an audience made up primarily of those self-selective members of the movie-going public that know what they're getting into.

There may not be a need for more films like Full Frontal, but there is a great shortage of filmmakers like Soderbergh.

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