Just Effing Entertain Me

500 Days of Summer

Once in awhile you see a movie that makes you wish to hell you’d written it yourself. 500 DAYS OF SUMMER, with Joseph Gordon-Levitt, is one such film. It epitomizes “the same but different.” Very different. It’s all in the execution. The film doesn’t say much about love that is new, particularly. Or about relationships, exactly. It’s not the what – it’s the how. What I loved about the movie is that it is clever but not self-consciously so – in other words, it’s not another hipster semi-bored nod to love and friends and shit. I can say with confidence that 500 DAYS is the most fun I’ve had seeing a movie in some time. The Hall & Oates sequence is worth the price of admission. If you’ve seen it, you just smiled at the memory of that sequence – you know what I’m talking about. Great writing, direction, art direction, performances and above all – a simple story with complex characters. This is the kind of movie that reminds me why I love movies. If you get a chance and it’s playing near you, Wavers, please do get out to support the film. Look at what a long way great writing can go to elevate a relationship and a heartbreak into something universal, funny and artfully told. This is not regular writing – this is super writing. This is what we all strive for.

Movies that Move You

So the other day I drove past the Hollywood Universalist Church on Franklin Blvd. in Hollywood and saw a sign describing upcoming sermons based on movies. I wish I could have slowed down to write down all the titles but we like me alive and with all limbs, right? The only one I remember is THE VISITOR. What a wonderful, appropriate idea.

I have read before that there are some therapists who use films as a form of therapy – an add-on if you will. A way for viewers/patients to connect with their deepest feelings through the emotionally and sensually immersive, transformative medium of film.

Recently, I (re)watched NORMA RAE and sure enough found myself reveling in the feeling that I was watching something important, something substantial, something that made me feel like a better person for having experienced it. I wanted to retroactively thank the DP, the writers and the director (Martin Ritt, who directed another favorite film of mine, THE FRONT, about the blacklist).

And Sally Field. I like her, I really like her. Jokes aside. It’s a great performance. When the petite spitfire wrenches herself from the grasp of her burly escorts marching her out of the textile factory and instead climbs up on a machine and holds up the famous UNION sign, eyes round with determination, fear and an elegant sort of hopeful defeat…well…that’s a movie moment you want to see, Wavers. It’s transformative and beautiful and wrenching and glorious. And it makes you wish you had that much courage. And it reminds you that you do.

Not all movies hit that deep vein of emotion and catharsis for us and thank god, right? That would be a bit exhausting. Recently, I watched CLOVERFIELD and was thoroughly entertained (engrossed, really) and then promptly forgot about it until someone told me about the mysterious splash in the end. Movies are populist entertainment and the impact of film on a viewer can be anything from enormously cathartic to simple, gut-busting entertainment. But once in awhile, you see a movie that taps into that part of yourself that forgets anybody else is in the theater. Movies in which the main character is the person you wish you could be or someone you once were. Movies that tighten our throats with joy and appreciation and impact.

So I’m curious – what movies have you seen, Wavers, which left you flat on the seat, a puddle of cinemagasm and filmic adoration, wanting to write fan letters to every single name that flies by in the credits? What movie do you wish you had written that gave an audience member that same feeling?

The Mini-W Reviews: Slumdog Millionaire

There are 3 words that define the film Slumdog Millionaire: Best Picture 2008.

Every year the Academy searches for the movie of the year that inspires, that moves the audience, that has impact. This is precisely what Slumdog Millionaire does. Jamal Malik, a contestant on India’s version of “Who Wants To Be A Millionaire?” and winner of 10 million dollars, is accused of cheating. He is interrogated and forced to prove how he knows every answer to all of the questions.

Jamal tells of each life experience that he has had, revealing why he remembers each answer, such as who is on the 100 dollar bill. Jamal has led a tragic life. Growing up in the slums of Bombay, and orphaned at a very young age, Jamal and his brother Salim have made it by themselves through unimaginable pain, fear, and poverty.

With amazing accomplishment, heart breaking loss, and unbreakable love, the story of Slumdog Millionaire is one that will go on for a long time. Don’t hesitate to get out of the house, go to the theater, and take the time to watch this movie. Keep in mind that it’s an intense experience, not to be mistaken for a feel-good film. The ticket at the Arclight was so worth it.

I give Slumdog Millionaire five out of five jellybeans.

The Mini-W Reviews: High School Musical 3

Quite a while ago, when I first heard that the 3rd installment of the hit Disney movie High School Musical was coming out in theaters, I thought to myself, MAN I gotta see that. I remember when the sensation first came out. I was at a friend’s house, and her 9-year-old sister convinced us to watch the movie with her. Little did we know, it would be something insanely popular. Like, clothing line popular. We laughed at the tacky dialogue, smiled at the stereotypical love story, and (much to our disbelief) could not get the songs out of our head. As the love for High School Musical grew in young girls more and more, I could already tell there would be a sequel. How could there not be? Zac Effron and Vanessa Hudgens were no longer just performers. They were stars.

As HSM3 started, you could already tell by just the quality that there was a muchhh higher budget for this movie. I haven’t seen High School Musical 2, but compared to the original HSM, this one was full of money. Although things like bad acting and cheesy plot lines were something I expected, I was very disappointed by the song sequences. Not the dances, but the singing. It was so clearly prerecorded that the actors mouths didn’t even quite match up to the words they were singing. Also, how come Zac Effron isn’t on Broadway? I want to see that kid dance some more! The thing that stood out most to me in this entire film was how coordinated, smooth, and precise his dancing was. I am actually pretty excited to see the upcoming film ME AND ORSON WELLES where Effron stars aside Claire Danes in his first serious role. I’m very curious as to whether he can actually act, or if he should take the DAMN stage like I said so.

In the end, High School Musical 3 was delightfully tacky, kept me entertained, and is something to take your daughter (or niece ) to go see when you’re in a silly mood.

I’d give this movie a 3 out of 5 jelly beans.

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The Mini-W is 15 and a sophomore in high school. A movie nut from her earliest days, she is a semi-regular movie review contributor to the Rouge Wave. She shoots from the hip and tells it like it is from her perspective.

Religulous

So how many Wavers are planning on getting out to see Bill Maher’s new film, Religulous? Initially, I thought for sure I’d go see it but the more I read about it the more I balk at Maher’s fish-in-a-barrel take on something that he believes is beneath contempt – faith. It seems easy to lump people of all faiths together into one raving, dogmatic loony bin and I’m not sure if I can handle the cringe factor of that.

Most documentarians enter into their project with one, overarching question: why? But Maher has not made this film to mine for some kind of truth. Rather he is serving up his own truth: Religious people are stupid. He has not made a documentary, he’s made a polemic diatribe. To be fair, I doubt Maher is describing his film as a documentary, it’s like some kind of Christopher Guest/mockumentary/opinion piece. Which he is entitled to. But I ask – where is the value in this project? What can we learn about ourselves and about humanity?

Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate Maher. I don’t like him, but I appreciate him. He is a provocateur and a dissenter and I find that refreshing. I don’t care for his biting, sarcastic, smarter-than-thou style, however. I find him utterly lacking in compassion or understanding Plus this thing about Anne Coulter…one should not believe everything one reads on the internet but if that little tidbit is true, I think I’ll lose my lunch.

Normally, I’d make myself go see the film just to stay informed and maybe I will – but I tell you, these days, I’m mightily turned off by negativity. And funnin’ people of faith and intimating they are stupid is not only greatly unappealing, it’s just embarrassing for everybody involved.

I recently watched Paris Je T’aime and my favorite segment was directed Alexander Payne. It was about a dumpy American tourist who goes to Paris and in voice-over, reads a clumsy book report about her trip. Her French is terrible, her pronunciation is terrible, she wears a fanny pack and is in every way the epitome of the Dumb American. And yet, in those short five minutes, Payne humanizes her, finds compassion for her and causes us to reflect on how the laughter dies in our throat uncomfortably. Because this Dumb American is a human being. And she may have an unsophisticated way of communicating and being in the world, but at the same time, deep down we are all her. Awkward, entrenched, flawed, unsophisticated and human. It is a masterful short film.

In these difficult times of political and economic chaos, and in a time, I must point out, during which the religious right has lost its choke hold on DC, I don’t see the merit or relevance of this film. Entertaining – sure, if you like laughing at people. But a valuable addition to the national conversation? I don’t think so. Let’s call it what it is – mean-spirited, self-aggrandizing film making. How does Religulous lead to compassion and greater understanding? How does it bring us together rather than tear us apart, jeering about our differences along the way? What is the thematic upshot of the film? That smart people are better than dumb people and that you have to be dumb to believe in God?

So, no, Bill, I am not interesting in watching you humiliate, mock and feel smug and superior compared to those with dogmatic, religious views of the world. I don’t happen to share the fundamental, religious belief systems of your subjects, but I still acknowledge that matters of personal belief are not intrinsically stupid just because I don’t share them.

Color me unimpressed.

Hard Times – No Better Time to Write

I think everybody is feeling that ripple of fear being cast in all directions by the troubles on Wall Street. It isn’t easy to remain optimistic when markets are crashing and people are out of work. What happens on Wall Street affects us all. That’s so much more apparent to me at this stage of life than ever before. So much for your burgeoning screenwriting career, right? Better get a part time job at the Piggly Wiggly, right? Wrong. There never was a better time or more important reason to keep writing.

You know what I do when I feel down and I need a distraction? I watch a movie. Comedies in particular have been my in-home therapist when I just needed a good laugh. And sometimes I just need a good cry. I credit WHAT ABOUT BOB for giving me the first real belly laugh in weeks about three years ago when I was on the floor with depression about an event that had occurred in my life. Death therapy, Bob! It works! If even for that short 90 minutes, you can be distracted enough to laugh and remember what’s good about life – that’s a damn good 90 minutes.

More Americans per capita went to the movies during the Great Depression than ever since. Hard times – and I mean horrible, Dorothea Lange, John Steinbeck hard times actually brought audiences to the theaters in droves. Because for the price of, I don’t know, ten cents, you could be distracted for a little while. The Great Depression set the the ascendance of Hollywood as the National Dream Machine in stone. To this day, Hollywood is one of the tiny minority of businesses that actually benefit from economic had times. That and arms proliferation but that’s another, more depressing blog post. With such uncertainty in the air, escapism is a great business to be in.

If you feel one iota of guilt about potentially making money in entertainment when others are suffering, stop right now, rush to the video store and rent SULLIVAN’S TRAVELS, one of my all time favorite movies.

So often aspiring writers are just so weighted down by the lottery-like chances of actually selling a script. It feels completely hopeless and overwhelming. Like putting quarter after quarter into the slot machine, hoping against hope you’ll hit the jackpot. But sometimes you feel like you’re scraping the bottom of the bucket and raiding the kid’s piggy bank. Rifling through old purses. You know the drill.

Impatience, day jobs, family – other pressing realities not to mention just plain running out of optimism can take a toll on aspiring writers.

But you really could be that one writer with that great script which gets everybody really excited. You really could have a career ahead of you. Yes, it takes time, it takes skills, it takes talent and connections – but it is entirely possible. Because without all those specs flowing into Hollywood everyday, the machine would chug to a halt. And audiences would be the poorer without really great, entertaining movies to see. Movies are humanity looking back at itself and laughing, crying and coming to terms. They deliver inspiration, catharsis, vicarious adventure and romance and sometimes just a great way to kill two hours thinking about something other than your utility bill and the fact that the car needs another repair. Movies are affordable therapy.

Hollywood needs you, aspiring spec writers. It may not woo you with flowers, it may at sometimes seem cruel and uncaring. But it needs you. Particularly when economic times are hard. Redouble your efforts this fall and winter, to put your nose to the grindstone and finish that script and start another. Be jotting down ideas. Think of it as your patriotic duty.

That is all. Now get back to work.

What Makes a Movie Good?

I had the most interesting discussion with a dear friend recently, about what constitutes a “good” movie. I don’t mean in the normal sense that it was good versus bad in all of the usual areas like acting, directing, story and style. My friend had a great take on it: if she enjoyed it – it was good. Well, that makes perfect sense and I bet you’re wondering where I could possibly go with that.

Where I’m going is that I disagreed – I have seen “good” movies that I didn’t particularly enjoy watching. I know, seems counter-intuitive. And controversial, this discussion – because we all know there are movies we are supposed to like, that are good for us in that they have film studies significance, or cultural relevance but that to be totally honest, didn’t make us forget about ourselves and get on the ride in the way that some movies do. I would put, most recently, PERSEPOLIS under that category for me. I really appreciated it – the animation was great, the story was told with an interesting point of view, and one that I had never been exposed to before, but I didn’t go nuts over the entertainment value for me, personally. But it was a good movie – I appreciated it. BREATHLESS is another, more random example – great performances, a place and a time and all that. I appreciate the French New Wave filmmakers but am more entertained by watching RAT RACE, frankly. But JULES ET JIM, THE 400 BLOWS – good films. Just not super entertaining to me.

Movies are populist entertainment, but they can also be an art form. I hold that one can appreciate the art in and of itself, and categorize said movie as “good” without meaning, necessarily that the entertainment value is the true measure of being “good”. I would also put DR. STRANGELOVE under this category. A good film but not one that I was particularly entertained by. Watching “good” movies (using good as a substitute for “appreciated”) is more work than watching a straight up, entertaining ride. But – should we have to work to appreciate a movie? Isn’t the point that we should be transported and entertained, with universal theme and plot? Are we supposed to notice the thematic and schematic lighting, shot placement and background cues? Or should that all be subconscious?

Who is a better filmmaker – Spielberg or Truffaut? Spielberg or Malick?

I just had a friend over last night – a director – who holds that THE THIN RED LINE is a far superior movie than SAVING PRIVATE RYAN because Ryan was ginormously plot driven while TTRL was more internal and cinematic.

So what goes on here – is it the Emperor’s New Clothes? Do people say they loved x, y or z art house or foreign film because we are supposed to love it when in fact, it just wasn’t all that entertaining?

What is the measure of a “good” movie to you? Is it pretentious to appreciate a movie while not particularly being entertained by it? Are there movies that receive accolades by dint of nobody wanting to dissent with the commonly held view of the movie?

My friend summed it up perfectly. We saw DR. STRANGELOVE together and when it was over she said, well, at least we saw it. For me that means – it’s a movie one should see, because we work in the movie business and now we have it under our belt. But did we enjoy it? Was it a good film?

I hold that yes, it was a good film. My friend differed by noting, provocatively and interestingly that all the angles, lighting and cutting edge satire in the world don’t really add up if the movie is not genuinely entertaining.

So what do you think, Wavers? What is a good film comprised of? Is there a difference between a “film” and a “movie”? I know that’s just hair-splitting semantics but I think it is ultimately the distinction I am talking about here; film embodying the art form and movie embodying the entertainment value.

Should that distinction exist? Personal side note: I hate it when people call movies “pictures” as if assuming some kind of movie mogul persona of the 40s.

Everybody who reads the Rouge Wave knows that I feel strongly that if you want to work in entertainment you should see every movie listed here and many, many more because whether you enjoy the movie or not, you should be able to contextualize the trajectory of the medium. For every “good” (by my definition: cutting edge, technically interesting, topically provocative, great performances, cinematography and direction) French New Wave, art house, foreign and classic film there were 100 bad ones. That much is obvious to me. Just because a movie is of a certain era does not automatically mean it’s good. But the stand-out examples are, in my view “good” whether I was personally captivated by them or not. But that’s just it – argues my friend – who says these movies are good? The majority? Is the 400 BLOWS good because no one dare argue otherwise? Was Kubrick such a genius – really?

What do you think, Wavers?

The Lifespan of a Television Show

My dear friend and mentor Jeff Lyons, and independent writer, producer and bon vivant has been deep in the trenches lately, developing a TV series with producers foreign and domestic. And it’s been one helluva ride. Today he shares a particular frustration with us: the natural lifespan of a television show:

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Forgive me for letting off steam, but I’m pissed. I’m working on developing a TV series with a company, and it is a grand, fun, fulfilling, and educational experience. I’m really having a great time. Yes, you hear the “but” coming a mile away, don’t you?

But–the mindset that rules how TV series operate is crazy making. First, let me make clear, my middle name is not Pollyanna. I have been trying to produce film and TV content for a long time and have been around the block, swum with the sharks, danced with the devil, and shoveled my own share of s@#it to get projects down the road to development. TV exists to sell soap; it is not an instrument of entertainment, it is a sales tool. TV shows are aired by networks to create a reason for people to watch commercials, not because they are pursuing high-art. This is not true for the Internet (yet), but it is the nature of TV. In short, I have no illusions. I really do get it.

But–with that said, why can’t we just let a TV show have it’s natural life span? Why do we have to drag out a series for nine seasons because economically it makes “sense”? My beef with this comes up now because I’m currently beating my head against this wall with my colleagues. I’m telling them that the show we’re trying to put up is a one season killer-diller, any more than that and it will be diluted. They insist it has to “have legs” past one season, otherwise there will be no incentive for the suits and executives to do the show. They simply won’t spend the money if they can’t get it back eight billion fold; meaning the show has to have a multi-season potential.

But–what if it doesn’t? What if it’s just a perfect one-season show? Why can’t it just live its lifespan naturally and die with dignity? Why does it have to go on life support with cranked up subplots, dumb-ass new characters, and forced plot lines? Whatever happened to a dignified death? Well, the answer, of course, is what I’ve just been describing. The damn show is making money! And, actors, directors, writers, etc., are making residuals! Now, certainly this is not a black and white situation. There are mini-series, limited series, etc. And these work fine. They make money and the trend for limited series is actually increasing (in cable anyway).

But–The problem I’m describing is still the prevailing zeitgeist. I’m a bonehead for suggesting this, but aren’t we all just drinking the network/advertiser Kool Aid? Isn’t there an alternative? Yes–Virginia, there is.

But–It will take guts, courage (the two aren’t the same), business savvy, and creative moxie. The solution is to let a show end naturally. Don’t push it, don’t extend it, and don’t put it on life support. If you limit shows to 13 or 26 weeks max, then two things can occur: first, viewers have a truly satisfying experience with the show, because it doesn’t fizzle out and “die” from being forced past it’s natural lifespan. Rather, the show follows its natural course and, like a good book, ends right on time. Viewer is happy, happy, happy. But, advertiser is pissed, pissed, pissed. They’ve just lost a cash cow. Right? Not necessarily.

With shorter series, networks have more space for more shows. With shorter series, more producers get their shows up, more writers are working, more revenue flows, more dollars are out there to buy more soap, and there are more and varied shows on the air to show advertising. Shorter shows don’t have to mean lost revenue. More shows means more creative work is available to be shown. How many great shows never see the light of day simply because networks won’t pull their cash cows from the airwaves to make room for new blood, simply because they are afraid of losing ad dollars? If they are smart (and they are) new product can be put up each season, with more in the pipeline. It can be win-win! If, if, if the creative will is there and the business savvy is in place to make it work. And I believe both those things are out there … somewhere.

But–I hear the wail of despair, “How can we pull performing shows from the air, when they are performing! Are you nuts?” Yes, I am. But that’s beside the point. What I’m suggesting is that even though these shows are performing economically, they probably stopped performing creatively a long time ago. I think that artificially sustaining shows that have died creatively by grasping for new story lines to keep viewer interest only shows that a show has stopped being its intended form and is not being “forced” to keep going despite the fact that it has really ended. Viewers watch anyway, because they’re hooked. That’s a good thing, but why not just hook them on something new, maybe something even better? And in the hooking, more work is generated, more revenue spent, etc., etc., and the great wheel of life in Hollywood continues profitably.

But–I’m not totally pig-headed about this. Seinfeld was the kind of show that could have gone on forever. It’s just the nature of the beast. It wasn’t about anything anyway, so there was not storyline to blow up or mutilate. But, how about Lost, which has been lost for seasons. It was done after its first season. What a perfect example of a show that had nowhere to go after thirteen shows. And then there is Battlestar Galactica, one of the best reborn series in TV history. Three seasons and the producers had the sense to end it. BRAVO! But, it’s spinoff , Caprica, is in the works, so we’ll see. We’ll see.

Be clear that I am not lumping all shows together here. Some shows naturally extend, most don’t. What I’m railing against is something like the following:

Cheers, popular 1980s sitcom. Great show, great audience, but as with all great things it started to come to it’s natural end. But, not wanting to lose the demographic and the time-slot that was generating lots of cash, the producers and network decided to “give the show legs.” The decision was made to make a change so they could come up with new story lines to keep their audience. So–what did they do? They had Sam, the womanizing bar-keep fall in love with Daine, the snobbish intellectual waitress. That their mutual antagonism and oil-water banter was the heart of the show and it’s success was of no consequence. Some brilliant exec probably thought, “Hey, if they get on each other’s nerves as co-workers, how much more fun will it be if they’re boyfriend and girlfriend?” Nice idea, lousy reality. The change altered the shows dynamic and it died faster than the first round Bush bailout bill in Congress today. They killed the show to save it, rather than just letting it go out with dignity. This is what I’m talking about … stupid changes in a show to try to keep it alive. This is the norm, not the exception. This is the problem.

So–To summarize: Shows are like life forms. Some are meant to be Galapagos tortoises (daytime soaps) and live forever, while others are more like a Gastrotrich (multi-cellular bug that lives 3 days). Most shows are more like the Gastrotrich. We can still have profitable shows if we are smart enough to know when a show REALLY needs to die. Viewers can have a better experience, more work will be generated with more slots to fill, more work means more advertising and soap selling, and residuals continue to flow. And creatively things can grow exponentially. It’s a Win Win Win.

But–all the pragmatists and my grounded-in-the-real-world contemporaries out there will, without doubt, come back on all this with, “You’re dreaming! Good luck selling that argument. If they buy this, I’ve got a bridge in Alaska!”

A boy can only dream.

James Wolcott on Indie Films – Ouch!

I have a love/hate relationship with Vanity Fair, the iconic cultural-society-literary-celebrity publication now in its famed second incarnation, having been revived 25 years ago and helmed by some guy then Tina Brown and now Graydon Carter (my two cents: don’t change the hair).

I have been a subscriber for lo these 25 years. Love it because receiving my Vanity Fair each month is a happy-mail-box ritual and I love, in this order, the Proust Questionnaire, the letters to the editor (in which I was once anonymously soft quoted as complaining about the number of ads that appear before the table of contents unless some other chick said the same thing in the same way which is possible but let me dream) Dominic Dunne, Christopher Hitchens and James Wolcott. Hate because the copious, upscale ad content clashes mightily with my values and makes it A NIGHTMARE to find the table of freaking contents.

But yes, I do like reading about the lives of various Princess Von Furstenburg-Hapsburg-McFabulous’s because it’s a guilty pleasure of mine even though at the end of aforementioned guilty-pleasure bio-article, I am usually in touch with my inner angry Communist self. These people are so vain and so shallow! And so rich! LOOK at that spread of their palace-compound-castle! But ohhhhh to have a peek into such a rarefied world…

In the latest issue, the one with Marilyn Monroe on the cover, James Wolcott, erudite cultural critic, tells us of his new discovery – television. It’s a really great article, actually – slightly behind the curve for Wolcott, says I – but well worth a read.

But tucked into the middle of this great article, Wolcott gets ensnared in two things: generalized, “the good old days” snobbery when it comes to indie films and witty, elliptical turns of phrase that make grasping his point an annoying exercise in parsing, well – witty, elliptical turns of phrase. To wit:

Most of these loosely-hung-together slow-metabolism vignettes remain nestled on the naturalistic surface, with mumblecore films caterpillaring into unmade beds.

Despite their supposed deviance from Hollywood formula, indie films are sometimes no better and often worse in their time-released didacticism and midafternoon droop, the characters so depleted by anomie, shrunken-head defeatism, dead-end prospects, deadbeat friends, bed-head hair, and a wardrobe of carefully selected from the dirty-clothes hamper that they can barely drag themselves to the diner to watch the new waitress tie her apron.

and

There’s an overdetermined depressiveness to so many indies – noble in intent, conscientious in execution, they tell you tonally from the opening shot or the first scratchy musical note that there’ll be no Shawshank Redemption at the end of this bus ride….[whereas] Television spares us the faint twitchings of twig life.

Now mind you: I have seen indie films that Wolcott is describing here, I really have. But Wolcott seems to (and it’s hard to say since his writing here is quite definitely a mumblecore article caterpillaring into an unmade bed) be indicting all indie film except those of Paul Mazursky. To which I say – dude? Jim? You’re making yourself sound really, really old here. There have been indie films caterpillaring into all sorts of disheveled messes as long as there have been indie films. Wake up and smell the JUNO.

We all know the power of words to persuade, romance, inflame and provoke. Anonymous internet jackasses know it (albeit unwittingly), screenwriters know it, novelists and journalists know it. And certainly Wolcott, a writer I greatly admire precisely for his rich, rambling, old-school voice knows it.

But in this article, Wolcott, like Ziggy Stardust, got sucked up into his own mind and the result is a mildly entertaining, thoroughly prejudiced, somewhat inaccurate musing on indie film. The main gist of the article is the delivery, speed and ascendance of good television, which in my view is inarguable. But -

…[whereas in indie film] there’s a slumpy sameness to the dialogue delivery and body language, as if everyone were making withdrawals from the the same tired bloodbank.

Really, Jim? The majority of the time? Of course, the more movies you see, the more clear it becomes that just because a film has “indie” or “foreign” in front of it, does not automatically mean that greatness or intellectual, hipster or existential heights have been reached. But I do think Wolcott is rather letting his age show and is overlooking some of the best movies ever put to celluloid – or digital video, as it were, and as a lover of such, I take offense at the lumping together of all indie films as pretentious exercises in nothingness. Yes, yes, we all know that “indie” films aren’t generally as “indie” as they used to be. But on the whole, they are one of the few outlets for filmmakers to unleash characters and dialogue that are anything but anemic blood bank withdrawals suffering from slumpy sameness and navel-gazing.

And while the ascendance of great television is inarguably a threat to the box office, great television is hardly new – there’s just more of it now.

In my view, television still offers, on the whole, a vast acreage of vapid nothingness compared to indie film. Reality programs, teeny bopper musings on Vanity Fair inspired rich-life pipe dreams (a guilty pleasure but not mine) and stultifyngly dull, outdated sitcoms the success of which mystify me. Everybody Loves Raymond. Really? Did they?

For every great television show there are 10 awful shows. So let’s keep our wits about us here. Wolcott’s rather sweeping take on indie film as a head-up-its-own-arse exercise in nothing-muchness is too sweeping for this girl’s taste.

Despite having taken exception to the midsection of this particular Wolcott piece – I recommend reading it. Because I may be complaining here, but damn I love a good writer, even if Wolcott writes the equivalent of indie-mumblecore-caterpillar-slouching-into-intellectual pretension while protesting it at the same time. Love ya, mean it Jim. Have your people call my people.

To read James Wolcott’s blog, click HERE.

The Mini-W Reviews: Burn After Reading

For those of you who are new to the Rouge Wave, and there are always newcomers, the Mini-W is my 15 year old daughter. She’s smart, she’s savvy and she loves movies. And once in awhile when her homework is done, she reviews movies here on the Rouge Wave. Enjoy:

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I was dragged to see Burn After Reading, starring Brad Pitt, Frances McDormand, Tilda Swinton, John Malkovich, and George Clooney with my dad and step mom and stepbrother. I was far from excited, but afterwards, I was SO glad they made me go. Although like most Coen Brothers productions, Burn After Reading was quite morbid, the extraordinary comedic performances by the entire cast held the sub-par plot together.

The movie starts out with John Malkovich as Osborn Cox, a washed up CIA operative being fired from his position. He then goes home to his coldhearted wife, Tilda Swinton, who is having an affair with George Clooney, a bodyguard and exercise obsessed womanizer. George Clooney links to Linda Litske (Frances McDormand), through Internet dating. Linda is an image obsessed gym worker who happens to find some files from Osborn Cox’s financial documents. Brad Pitt is a personal trainer at the gym where Linda works, and together they try and get money for the disk that they found, thinking it is CIA information.

In the end, many of the cast end up dying in rather violent and shocking ways, but the way they handle it just makes what would have been a mediocre script into a hilarious experience. Not only were the performances good, but also you could just tell that the actors had fun with this movie, and that fun jumps off the screen into you. DO NOT take the younguns to see this movie (I felt like covering my little step brother’s eyes half the time) but definitely take a couple hours to go out and see it. It will keep you laughing for a long time afterwards.