Out of Focus

Maybe it’s because it’s Friday, but that should make me happy, right? Maybe it’s the gloom and grey of the rainy day, but I’m still a San Franciscan at heart and have an affinity for grey skies. Whatever the case, I’m not all that inspired today, even though I’m incredibly excited to see Todd Solondz’s latest Palindromes tonight at the NYFF. Anyway, here or some spurts lacking substance:

• Team America: World Police opens today. Sean Penn is apparently pissed. All is right with the world

• What with President Bush unable to think of any mistakes, the Center for American Progress has come up with 100 for him to choose from. Just some food for thought.

• I know I spent enough time talking about Film Forum the other day, but I would be remiss if I didn’t bring to everyone’s attention the trio of films playing there this weekend. In memory of the recent passing of philosopher Jacques Derrida, they’ve brought back Kirby Dick’s documentary Derrida playing now through Tuesday. I missed the film the first time, but as someone who will never completely recover trying to completely understand Derrida and the theories of deconstruction in college, I’m hoping to get to it this time around. Also screening is film festival fave Tarnation which writer/director Jonathan Caouette made for a few hundred dollars by basically shooting his entire life from the age of 11 and then cutting it all together using iMovie. And finally, but by no means least important, is the 40th Anniversary Presentation of a new 35 mm print of Stanley Kubrick’s remarkable and outstanding satire Dr. Strangelove. Could there be a better time to revisit this movie? And regardless of how you answer that, has anyone so utterly taken over the screen in one film as Peter Sellers does in multiple roles here?

• As usual, the Thigh Master is right. Based on this trailer, Fat Albert: The Movie is going to be even worse than Scooby-Doo 2: Monsters Boogaloo.

• As noted today on Gothamist, the American Museum of the Moving Image in Queens has programmed a Ken Russell retrospective starting this weekend and running through the end of the month. You probably know Russell from his film of The Who’s Tommy (screening on 10/23 and 10/24 at 6:30 PM). You may even remember the 1980 sci-fi thriller starring William Hurt Altered States (screening on 10/30 and 10/31 at 6:30 PM) or his infamous adaptation of D.H. Lawrence’s Women in Love (screening tonight at 7:30 PM and tomorrow and Sunday at 6:30 PM).

  I went through a little Russell phase back in the early ’90s when I tried to see most of his films. If you really want to experience Russell at his trippiest (albeit, not always his best), those aren’t the movies to see. First on your list should be the 10/24 4 PM screening of Lisztomania, a “biopic” of sorts (you know, if you take most of the true “biography” out of it) starring The Who’s Roger Daltry as German Czech (oh some people are just so smart) composer Franz Liszt. The best scene in the movie is the fantasy-orgy in which Daltry slides down an enormous penis. No, I’m not kidding. After Lisztomania, you should try to make it to Lair of the White Worm on 10/31 at 2 PM which has the benefit of including an early performance from Hugh Grant before he was … er … “Hugh Grant.” And there’s also The Devils screening on 10/17 at 4 PM which needs to be seen to be believed. Shamefully and surprisingly not included are most of his ’80s oeuvre (at least I don’t see them): Crimes of Passion, Gothic, Salome’s Last Dance and The Rainbow. Even though I wouldn’t call each of these films “great,” they’re very “Ken Russell.”

• I’m sitting at a Starbucks where just a couple hours ago, Billy Baldwin sat down at my table (the one for laptops, you know) and drank his coffee while reading the paper. I hesitated from saying, “Billy, what the hell happened to your career?” or even more importantly, “Billy, what’s with Stephen? Is it time to have him committed?” No one really noticed him. I can’t say the same for the gaggle of pre-teen girls who’ve taken over this entire place. It’s actually quieter outside with the rain and the traffice.

Yeah, I once loved Russell, but now he’s a drag on my energy. Or it’s the tweeners. Either way, that’s it for me. Have a great weekend.

Last night at the Walter Reade I saw two of the “Selling Democracy: Films of the Marshall Plan – 1948-1953” programs which are a one of the special events of the New York Film Festival. When my girlfriend asked me how they were, I really couldn’t come up with anything to say other than, “They were interesting,” which is about as uninteresting an answer as I can imagine giving.

But that’s what they were. They certainly weren’t conventionally entertaining. They weren’t exciting. I don’t know that I would even call them provocative, at least not to a modern viewer. The two “Selling Democracy” programs I saw focused on films from Germany and Austria and films from France and Italy. The methods of propaganda used by the US government at the time aren’t really surprising, and at times they’re completely laughable. I’m sure that if an audience of Americans in the immediate post-war period were watching these films, they’d have a more direct and even emotional impact. But watching them with 50 years hindsight, it’s that much simpler to see just what they were: blatant and pandering attempts to tell post-War Europe they were better off thanks to the help coming from America and the allies.

Of course, that was the entire purpose of these films, and the results seem to prove demonstrably that Europe was, in fact, better off due to American intervention. (Two films actually meant for American audiences from the Italian/French program which are rabidly anti-communist are nearly laughable, however, as to how they mischaracterize the evils of communism. With all the possible arguments against communism and especially the Soviet version of it, the simple Red-bad, freedom-good rhetoric was absurd.) These films are somewhat interesting (there’s that word again) to watch in context of our current role in the Middle-East. With the Bush administration having invoked The Marshall Plan as a precursor to what they’re now trying to do in Iraq, and with Bush repeatedly using the wartime newsreel line “Freedom is on the march,” it’s hard not to see the parallels for which, at the very least, the current administration hopes. Watching these films does illustrate the parallels the current administration would like us all to see, but it also noticeably depicts the differences. You can’t miss the fact that while the Stars & Stripes are often prevalent, they are also most of the time joined by the flags of all the other Allied countries involved in the war. Also, while the films exhibit much resistance explained as Soviet adn communist sympathizers, the reconstruction is almost always depicted as being an economic reality rather than one regarding safety and continuing violence. In fact, with the exception of some laughable stagings of communist sympathizers beating up free trade-union supporters putting up posters, overcome violence and safety issues isn’t discussed and, as we know, was not the same problem in European reconstruction as it currently is in the Middle East.

The “Selling Democracy” website has some great information about these films and the Marshall Plan (which was officially known as the “European Recovery Program” or ERP) in general, and it’s worth checking-out even if just for a brief history lesson. Each program is made up of five films which run from approximately 10 to 30 minutes. Programs 4 (“By Land and By Sea”) and 5 (“Strength for the Free World – From War to the European Union”) screen at the Walter Reade tonight. Beyond that, I’m not sure what they plan to do with these programs. The table of contents page has a link for “National Tour,” but it just goes on to a coming soon page. I hope that they can maybe put some of these programs, along with other documentaries and discussions, out on DVD, or even better sell them to PBS or The History Channel. One fascinating element of the story of these films is that since their production they had been banned from public exhibition in the US due to congressional order because the government didn’t want its citizens to actually see the kind of propaganda the US spread around the world, whether it was positive or negative. According to the web site (which is basically the same as the program handed out to filmgoers), the ban was lifted in 1990 “thanks to legislation introduced by Senator John Kerry.” History buffs especially would love this stuff, and film buffs (especially those who, like me, have an interest in politics and history) might be attracted to some of the filmmaking techniques and styles utilized and copied to get these points across.

The most interesting film I saw from a filmmaking standpoint was Aquila, a 21 minute scripted story obviously influenced by the contemporary Italian Neorealist movement, most specifically Vittorio de Sica’s brilliant and moving The Bicycle Thief. The film has no dialogue – just a music track – but is very simple to follow: the shipping town of Aquila is economically depressed, and a man can’t find a job to support his wife and young child. Before the war, they were accustomed to happier times. Now, everything is terrible, and he walks around the town aimlessly hoping he’ll happen upon a job while his young son and the other children play in the ruins and play with remnants of bombs. The communists start holding rallies in an effort to motivate the citizens, and it looks like they may find support. But just then, the Americans swoop in with food and coal and gasoline and other supplies. This influx of materials helps get the town out of its depression and opens it up as a major seaport again. Everyone goes to work, and the communist menace remains only in the posters announcing meetings that hang on the walls; yet nobody pays attention to them. The abrupt ending shows the materials being imported into Aquila making their way out of the town and being driven off to help reinvigorate the rest of Italy.

It is quite powerful stuff, and to an Italian audience living through the very same circumstances they were watching, especially those who may not have yet been touched by the American benevolence, the message would have been strong and clear. The message is blatant, but the filmmaking is actually stylized, and until the somewhat abrupt ending, Aquila shares much of the desperation, and ultimately hope, inherent to those masterpieces of Neorealist cinema made at the same time.

The other films do similar things, but in less lyrical fashion. A common practice was to make films targeted at specific areas or industries such as The Home We Love about the French town Mazamet and it’s wool-processing industry or The Invisible Link and Austria’s power industry which flourished due to the building of the Kaprun Dam in the mountains north of Salzburg. Both films are little documentaries supposedly narrated from a local’s first person perspective talking about why the industry is important to the locale, how bad things became during the war, and how much better they are now. Oh, and by the way, it’s all thanks to the programs of the Marshall Plan such as the Economic Cooperation Administration (ECA) or its spawn after the start of the Korean War, The Mutual Security Administration (MSA).

OK, so maybe I did have more to say about “Selling Democracy” than just “interesting,” and I would suggest checking-out some of these films if you have the opportunity. In addition to the “Selling Democracy” website, you can also learn a bit more about the entire Marshall Plan films program, and how to access the videotapes of you’re a researcher or something, by going to www.marshallfilms.org. Apparently there will also be a symposium about The Marshall Plan sponsored by The German Marshall Fund of the United States taking place this Saturday (10/16) from 2:30 to 5 PM at 1014 Fifth Avenue (across from The Met) which is free and open to the public.

Just two days ago I bemoaned Gil Cates’ hiring to produce the Academy Awards yet again. But one of, if not the, most important jobs of the Oscar-broadcast producer is the choice of host. Well today, the Academy of Motion Pictures Arts & Sciences announced that they’ve hired Chris Rock to host next February’s Oscar-cast. There is absolutely postively not a better choice that could have been made in an attempt to draw younger viewers and a hipper sensibility to the show. I only hope that they don’t saddle him with too much Awards-show schtick and they work with Rock to develop a show that will mirror his sensibilities as its host. There’s only so far you can seemingly go in reformating an Awards show, and I don’t want to overstate the role of the host, but the personality of a show will often mimic that of its host, and with Rock leading the way, Oscar night could (hopefully) lose a bit of its oh-so-dull mantle. Huzzah.

I came home last night to find the new “Revivals & Repertory” circular from Film Forum in my mailbox. Aside from being one of the few places anywhere to see small indie and foreign films that may not get a larger release, their other programming is often fantastic. From great revivals such as Billy Wilder’s Kiss Me, Stupid and Jean-Pierre Melville’s brilliant Le Cercle Rouge and Luchino Visconti’s The Leopard to repertory series focusing on Rainer Werner Fassbinder, Ingmar Bergman and, most recently, F.W. Murnau, Film Forum’s schedule is often impressive and usually filled-with must-see engagements. With that said, never before have I been as thoroughly excited by their schedule as I was when I saw the words “Essential Noir” on the circular in my mailbox last night.

That’s right: Film Forum, thanks to its great repertory programmer Bruce Goldstein, has literally programmed 4 weeks of films noir featuring 34 of the best and most important movies belonging to what is arguably the most significant and influential period and style in American cinema history. Is absolutely every great noir included? No. There are a some wonderful films missing such as The Glass Key, The Set-Up, In a Lonely Place, and Raw Deal (just to name a few), but I’m really just quibbling here because at some point they obviously have to cut-off the list. Still, the 34 films included are in fact all “Essential Noir: Classics of American Film Noir – 1941-1958” and the best part is that almost every program is a double feature – 2 films for the price of 1 admission.

Seriously, I tried to highlight just a few of these programs but then I realized I was listing every single one. How can you pick when just about every film listed is an absolute masterpiece of American cinema. I’m going to have to move-in to Film Forum to see all of these again (all projected in 35 mm) and to catch the few which I’ve never seen before. Just go to the Film Forum web site and look at the list. If you said, “Aaron, I can only go to three programs, so don’t pick more than that,” I’d swear a couple times and then tell you to go see Double Indemnity and Mildred Pierce on 11/26-28; The Postman Always Rings Twice and The Lady From Shanghai on 12/10-11; and Shadow of a Doubt and Out of the Past on 12/19-20. However, I only pick those because Double Indemnity and Out of the Past are the two absolute best of the entire genre, and Postman and Shanghai feature two of the most alluring femmes fatale to even hit the screen in Lana Turner and Rita Hayworth, respectively. But then I’d also implore you to check-out Sweet Smell of Success and Touch of Evil (the last “true” noir?) on 12/17-18, and I’d also suggest you not miss The Lost Weekend or The Killers or The Big Sleep or Murder, My Sweet or Kiss Me Deadly or The Maltese Falcon or … sigh.

By the way, the “Essential Noir” series doesn’t even start until 11/26. Meanwhile, what’s on the rest of the Film Forum Schedule? Only Peter Davis’s classic Vietnam documentary Hearts and Minds from 10/22-11/4 followed by a restored 35 mm print of Elia Kazan’s near-perfect On the Waterfront. If you’ve never seen it, and you live in New York, you are required to go to Film Forum during its 11/5-11 engagement before you see anything else or read another film blog, this one included.

But that’s still not all, because from 11/12-18 they’ve got the reconstructed version of Samuel Fuller’s The Big Red One which I just saw at the New York Film Festival last weekend. A remarkable depiction of World War II, grand and intimate at the same time, featuring a career-defining performance by Lee Marvin (and that’s saying something) as well as turns by Mark Hamill and Robert Carradine that might actually make you forget that you’re watching Luke Skywalker and lead nerd Louis Skolnick.

But wait, there’s more, because the week leading-up to the “Essential Noir” series features Days of Being Wild by the ultra-cool Wong Kar-Wai. Considering this is one of his films I’ve never seen, I can’t wait.

Often, Film Forum presents a revival of a film that I’ve never heard of, and I get quite excited about the opportunity to see something a little less famous projected as it was meant to be. I know Jacques Demy, but I’d never heard of his 1970 fantasy musical Donkey Skin starring Catherine Deneuve. It sounds interesting, to say the least, and you can be sure I’ll find some time during its run from 12/24-1/4/05 to get downtown to see it.

And then on Jan. 5 for one week only, a new 35 mm print of Raging Bull in honor of the film’s 25th Anniversary. Sure I own the DVD of what many people consider the best film of the 1980s, but I won’t miss an opportunity to see it projected onto a screen that, although not enormous, is far bigger than my TV.

The mailer only takes us into late January, but running 1/12-20 will be a return engagement of Luchino Visconti’s The Leopard. If you missed this grand and opulent epic during its recent run, try to catch it this time. And don’t worry, I’ll remind you when the time is near.

What I’d really suggest is that you follow my lead and just buy a membership for $65. You then pay only $5 (instead of $10) for each ticket, and what that means is that over the course of a year, if you go to Film Forum 13 times, you’re breaking even. Any more than that, and you’re actually saving money. I’m pretty sure I’ll hit my 13 during this three month period alone.

Thanks Film Forum. Now if you could only create more time in my day so I can actually get to all this stuff, I’d be most appreciative.

I have a couple tickets to the New York Film Festival which I can’t use. Unfortunately, it’s literaly “a couple” tickets, and the two aren’t for the same film. The first ticket is for tonight’s 9 PM screening of Lodge Kerrigan’s latest film Keane which I’ve heard is fantastic. The second is for Friday’s 6 PM screening of the last film by Norwegian master Ingmar Bergman, Saraband.

Unfortunately, I now can’t get to either screening. If you’re interested in either or both ticket, please email or IM me and I can probably arrange for a messenger to handle getting you the ticket. Obviously, the sooner the better.

UPDATE The Saraband ticket is gone, but if you’re still interested in Keane for tonight, please get in touch with me ASAP.

Every now and then I have one of these busy days at work, so in lieu of anything actually interesting or substantial, here are some random thoughts:

• Gil Cates has been hired to produce the Oscars once again when the broadcast airs on Feb. 27. This will be his 12th time. That’s a record. Nobody has done it more. I’m just wondering, though – does the Academy pay any attention that every time Cates produces, the show is boring as shit? I don’t care how many times it gets Emmy nominations; all anybody does after the Oscars every year is complain about how dull the show is. Excuse me, but isn’t Hollywood supposed to be a “creative” community? Is the Academy’s consistent rehiring of Cates an acknowledgement that creativity is dead? Can’t you bring in someone to literally revamp, reinvent and reformat the entire show from top-to-bottom in order to make it more interesting to watch? I know the Donner family have given it a shot and so did Laura Ziskin, and conventional opinion after their attempts seemed to indicate that they each did a worse job than Cates, but at least they experimented a wee bit and tried to do something slightly different. How about taking a big risk, Oscar, and getting a younger more energetic producer in there. Someone who doesn’t think Bruce Vilanch is the end-all, be-all of comedy writers and who can actually bring ideas to the table. Someone who was born, say, in the second half of the 20th Century. I’m not trying to be ageist here or denigrate the careers of any of these producers, all of whom have created some great films during their careers. But would it be so wrong? To try to instill a little life and energy into the Oscars from a production standpoint? I’m just saying.…

• Vanity Fair contributing editor Bruce Feirstein has been hired to script the feature adaptation of The A-Team. Yes, The A-Team. I remember many years ago when The A-Team premiered after a Super Bowl broadcast and it quickly became my favorite show. Of course, I was 11 at he time. And it was one of those typical early-80s slightly corny action series with just enough sarcasm and anti-realism to keep you coming back for more. And Mr. T. In fact, did anybody ever watch the show for any reason other than Mr. T? Really?

  Producer Stephen J. Cannell says he’d really like to have Mr. T in the film, “but we haven’t begun casting.” Like you really need to start the casting process to offer a role to Mr. T, the whole reason the series lasted more than five minutes. Besides, you’re not exactly talking about one of the four leads here, are you. “I always think it’s nice to see the stars of the old show in cameo roles in the movie. But obviously he won’t be playing B.A. Baracus.”

  Feirstein is also a screenwriter responsible for three of the more recent James Bond films. I guess having a thin storyline with a lot of serious, rather than silly, action and violence is what Cannell wants in order to appeal to moviegoers, and that would make Feirstein’s hiring seem like an ideal choice. The producer plans for this film to be, “less cartoony.” Because, you see, all that’s important is that the violence-quotient be upped a notch. I’m sure we can all agree that the biggest problem with the series itself was “nobody ever died,” which Cannell states hoping that such a comment doesn’t “denigrate the TV show.” Jackass.

• Seems like critical reaction for the Val Kilmer starring stage musical version of The Ten Commandments has been sufficiently horrible enough to cancel delay the scheduled opening of the show at Radio City Music Hall on Jan. 18. Yay!

• If you were wondering why TV was so damn sexist with the great America’s Next Top Model focusing only on female models, tonight Bravo gives you equal opportunity television. When Manhunt: The Search for America’s Most Gorgeous Male Model premieres on the cable web at 10 PM, you can see how stupid, vain and shallow men can be as well. In fact, while I don’t expect this show to be anywhere near as fun and interesting as ANTM, I’ll bet you the guys are even more annoying than their female counterparts. Going along with the cheesy title is a cheesy hostess: Carmen Electra. Should be “fun.”

• Veronica Lake was one of the greatest of all screen sirens, but by the time she died, she had long suffered from alcoholism and been forgotten by the Hollywood community. By the ’60s, one of the biggest stars from the ’40s – if you’ve never seen her in Sullivan’s Travels, you’ve missed one of the greatest films of all-time, and her femme fatale in The Glass Key is one of the all-time best – was discovered living in a hotel and working as a bartender and waitress. Well, according to this story, people continue to have trouble keeping track of Lake, even 30-plus years after she died. TCM should devote a night to Lake, although, let’s not mention this as a reason.

• I mentioned him last week, but The Rude Pundit is now officially my latest favorite blogger. Not because he’s crude, but because what he writes actually has merit. Check-out his post-second Presidential debate analysis. His language may be colorful, but his content is dead-fucking-on! Be sure to check out his site tomorrow when I expect he will be posting what Kerry should say in debate #3.

• And finally, hopefully you’ve heard about this bullshit that Sinclair Communications is trying to pull by preempting network programming on it’s ownership group of local stations in order to air an anti-Kerry documentary days before the election. This is the same media company the previously refused to air an episode of ABC’s Nightline which featured Ted Koppel reading the names of US Soldiers who had been killed in Iraq because the company thought it would illicit anti-Bush sentiment. The DNC web site has an online petition that everyone should want to sign. This shouldn’t be a partisan issue: this should be about what large media companies have the right to do with the public airwaves. If Viacom and CBS can be sued because of an errant nipple, then the FCC should be investigating Sinclair’s licenses for airing blatant political advertising in the guise of news, preempting network programming only when the shows aren’t among the most popular and highest revenue grabbers. The reason why media watchers are always so scared of deregulation and allowing major corporations to own a greater percentage of outlets is specifically due to situations like this, where a company run by people who believe in and contribute to a certain political base specifically alter their normal programming to help support their chosen candidate. If they were airing a pro-Kerry documentary, this would still be wrong.

  And for a more coherent and reputable discussion of why this situation is such a grevious problem, read this letter former FCC Commissioner Reed Hunt sent to Josh Marshall.

By now everyone knows that Christopher Reeve passed away yesterday. The thing that surprised me most about reading this news first thing this morning was my actual surprise. Here’s a man whose body had been utterly destroyed from the neck down, yet he really was a superman, surviving primarily through the strength of his will and love of his family and never losing faith that one day he would walk again. Ultimately, it seems he was killed due to an infection caused by something as simple as a bedsore, and that’s just tragic.

Reeve is a perfect example of an actor never able to overcome his identification with an iconic character even before his accident. Especially after the third and fourth sequels, people had a hard time seeing him as anything other than Superman and might even joke when he appeared in other roles. However, Reeve was actually a much better actor than people usually gave him credit. He was classically stage-trained, and I had the privilege of seeing him in a production of Tennessee Williams’ Summer and Smoke in Los Angeles in the late ’80s. I thought it was hysterical that I would be seeing Superman attempt Williams, but he blew me away with his portrayal of John Buchanan.

He also held his own in many films during and after his tenure as the Man of Steel. Deathtrap, Street Smart, Noises Off… and The Remains of the Day all feature Reeve performances which might have been paid more notice had audiences not always thought of him as Superman first.

Obviously he’ll now be remembered as much, if not more, for his work in pushing spinal chord injury and, more recently, stem cell research. I hope that his death isn’t turned into political fodder during this very turbulent pre-election period, but at the same time, maybe the fragileness of his life in the end can help some people realize what may be at stake. There may be no guarantees, but there can always be hope, unless it’s cut short simply for lack of trying.

Now that that’s over with, as I just mentioned, in my eight years of attending the New York Film Festival, I can’t recall a collectively better year than the one I’ve seen so far. Maybe one of these days, I’ll actually get around to writing in detail individually about most of the eight films I’ve seen (so far) at this year’s edition, but simply put, I’ve loved most of them, and not one could be categorized as anything less than above-average.

The opener, Look at Me, is a wonderful French comedy that deserves the audience and success a crappy film like Love, Actually receives due to its much more effective handling of multiple characters and stories. Director Agn&#232s Jaoui is remarkably adept at letting the audience feel the individual emotions of every single character without ever getting in the way of the overall story or becoming annoying. It’s a delightful film that never feels forced or absurd and doesn’t shy away from moments and elements that many comedic filmmakers are afraid will drag down a story but, as Jaoui proves, really serves to make it all the more human. There is something in Look at Me to which absolutely everyone should be able to relate. (The film will apparently be released in the US next February.) I understand why the incredibly accomplished screenplay won an award at Cannes this year, but that shouldn’t take away from the overall skill Jaoui exhibits as a filmmaker.

The reconstruction of Samuel Fuller’s The Big Red One is, as Filmbrain aptly describes in his review, one of the best WWII movies you’ll ever see.

I’m sad to admit that I had trouble staying awake all the way through the great French master Eric Rohmer’s Triple Agent, but I don’t fault the movie as much as my lack of sleep the night before, not having eaten that morning, already having sat through the nearly 3-hour Fuller film and, most importantly, the fact that Lincoln Center doesn’t seem to understand the concept of climate control — Alice Tully Hall is always waaaay too hot, and if I’m not falling asleep, I’m sweating. What I saw of Triple Agent was very different for Rohmer although still a good example of why he’s such a brilliant filmmaker.

Undertow surprised me in a positive way because I’ve always been one to appreciate David Gordon Green’s ability as a director without necessarily loving his films. George Washington was good, and exceptionally well-made, but my personal tastes do not make me a huge fan of the deliberately slow and plodding narrative and somber moodiness perfected by Terrence Malick and utilized by Green. I didn’t like All the Real Girls at all. But Undertow shows Green taking his style and placing it onto a more conventionally structured narrative with distinctive genre elements. In some ways, I don’t think it’s necessarily as accomplished a film as George Washington, but in others, it’s an enormous step forward for a very talented young filmmaker.

In the Battlefields was probably my least favorite of all the films I’ve seen so far, but it was still very interesting. It’s story of a young Lebanese girl trying to make sense of the world in the midst of war-torn 1980s Beirut is compelling but a bit thin. The director — whose background is in documentaries — spends most of the time showing moments and events without really tying them together well enough into one cohesive piece.

Or (My Treasure), on the other hand, manages to do both very effectively. This Camera d’Or winner from the most recent Cannes Film Festival is a very bleak Israeli film about a 17-year-old trying to get her prostitute mother to go straight. I really don’t want to say anything more about the story because everyone should see this film (I’m not sure if it has distribution in the US yet, but if not, I hope it will), regardless of the NY Times’ latest condescending critic’s description of the film as “irritatingly naive” (a comment which in itself is just plain stupid and, shocker, naive). Yes, the story is heavy-handed and depressing, but it’s also well-plotted, tight and consistently gripping, and the filmmaking talent on display is quite impressive.

Mike Leigh’s Vera Drake is both another example of why Leigh is such a brilliant filmmaker and an acting tour-de-force on the part of Imelda Staunton in the titular role. While I found the first hour drawn-out slightly more than necessary, Staunton’s ability to transform from the quintessential kind-hearted optimist full of life with a kind word for everyone no matter how grim the surrounding situation into a terrified and quivering old woman is breathtaking. If she’s not an Oscar nominee come January, the Oscars will be worthless. Leigh’s interrogation scene alone is a masterpiece of filmmaking and acting. Vera Drake opened in New York on Sunday after it’s festival run (and goes wider on 10/22), and you should all run out to see it.

And finally there’s Almod&#243var. What can one say about Pedro Almod&#243var other than he is one of the most provocative, creative and fascinating filmmakers the world has probably ever seen. Bad Education does not diminish that reputation in the slightest, and in fact, as someone with a near obsession with film noir, this movie only shows me how limitless his talents truly are. With the help of Gael Garc&#237a Bernal (who in drag is still prettier than most women), Almod&#243var puts his own twist on the noir style all while taking a little dig at the Catholic church. And it all starts with the opening credits. Bad Education will likely remain one of my top movies of the year, and it is a definite must-see when it’s released in the US on 11/19.

Before the conclusion of the festival Sunday, I’m still supposed to see The World, Keane, Saraband and Palindromes — the last about which I’m most excited — as well as a couple of the “Selling Democracy: Films of the Marshall Plan” programs playing as a sidebar to the main festival. I may not be able to get to Keane or Saraband actually, so I may have a ticket (just one) to each available. If anyone is interested, please contact me via email or IM.

Hi there fellow audience members.

Like most of you, I assume, I have found this to be the best edition of the New York Film Festival in some time. Sure, the selection committee still can’t seem to program shorts that can illicit any description greater than “sort of interesting,” but the features overall have been above average to phenomenal.

It seems you have loved most of them too, but you know what? The Q&A sessions after the films are not actually there for you to hear yourself speak and attempt to prove how intuitive you are about film. Your Cinema Studies degrees, or lack of them, need not be on display here, and some of us (yes, that would be me) could really do without them. It’s one thing to ask a question of the filmmakers on the stage or to even challenge them. Comments are fine too, but try to keep them to a sentence or two. There are plenty of people in the crowd who would like to ask questions, even more who are interested in what the filmmakers have to say, but very few who give a shit about your analysis. You want to analyze the films? Be my guest. Start a blog and write to your heart’s content. But taking up several minutes to comment on this or that specific scene in a large room where 75% of the people can’t even hear you is not a good idea. (Bravo to Richard Pena for often cutting long-winded questioners/commenters short.)

I can’t even count how many times during the various post-film discussions I’ve heard some blowhard stand-up and talk about how this or that scene made him/her think of Vermeer or why these two scenes were obvious parallels only to have the filmmaker say that’s not what he/she was thinking at all. There’s nothing wrong with these analyses if that’s what you saw in the film; that’s your right and perception. However, why not ask the filmmaker what he/she was thinking with those scenes or what influences may have actually existed? And then let them speak rather than recite a dissertation as to why you asked the question? Some people do this very well. Others are obviously too self-absorbed.

Oh, and Lisa Schwarzbaum (selection committee member and Entertainment Weekly critic)? Please stop moderating panels altogether. If you’re going to dominate the questioning as you did with Undertow, maybe you should run your questions by a few people before hand so they can tell you to stop being stupid and try again.

Thanks.

— Aaron

P.S.: I know I’m a little slow sometimes, but could someone explain to me why people hiss at the HSBC trailer that shows before the movies? Is it just some comment against big business, especially banks, since we’re sitting in an uppity, elite, artistic forum celebrating film? Or am I missing something? Because I think it’s a pretty clever little commercial.

First things first: in case you didn’t realize this, I have no relationship with or interest in Turner Classic Movies other than the fact that I’m a huge fan because it’s the best programmed channel on television for films ranging from the earliest silents to the ’60s and ’70s. OK, so I do work for a company that is part of the same enormous media conglomerate that owns TCM, but I assure you that I do not have enough in the way of valuable stock or options to make the business success or failure of TCM an issue for me. And, since the entire channel is run out of Atlanta and not New York, I won’t be pursuing them for a job anytime soon. So, before you email me or post a comment on the site asking when TCM might broadcast a certain title, please know that I have no idea. The best way to find out would be to go to their website and do a little search.

Still, I highlight TCM programming because it’s a great opportunity to see great movies and learn about filmmakers and actors with whom you may otherwise be unfamiliar. Such is the case over the next three days. Tonight, TCM continues its monthlong celebration of Peter Lorre. Tomorrow, as I mentioned earlier in the week, from 6 AM to 4 PM (Eastern), TCM has changed it’s schedule in tribute to the late Janet Leigh. And tomorrow night at 10:15 PM, they give you another chance to see what still reigns as possibly the greatest film comedy of all time, Some Like It Hot. Finally, on Monday, TCM honors what would have been the 100th birthday of one of the greatest novelists of the 20th Century. Graham Greene (whose birthday was actually on Oct. 2) was more than just a novelist, however. He was also a brilliant film critic and occasional screenwriter. Many of his novels have been adapted for the screen, and he was even nominated for a screenwriting Oscar for 1948’s The Fallen Idol. That film was directed by the great Carol Reed with whom Greene collaborated on two other occasions, most notably the classic noir The Third Man. TCM will actually show The Third Man twice, at 8 PM and 11:15 PM (Eastern), followed each time by a new hour-long documentary about the making of the film, Shadowing the Third Man at 10 PM and 1:15 AM (Eastern).