November 14
A Christmas Tale
B.O.H.I.C.A.
House of the Sleeping Beauties
How About You
November 21
The Betrayal
November 30
The most satisfying Sundance films I've seen over the last four days, in this order, are: Craig Brewer's Hustle & Flow, Greg Mclean's Wolf Creek (which I wrote about last Friday), and Craig Lucas' The Dying Gaul (angrier and more bitter than it needs to be, but is nonetheless a fully felt, precisely crafted piece about denial and betrayal, a superb psychological suspense drama and a nicely tuned Hollywood backstabber).

Matthew Vaughan's Layer Cake is an absorbing, carefully measured, constantly crackling British crime film that deliberately eschews the Guy Ritchie-esque razzle dazzle that we've all come to expect from movies about the criminal underworld, and offers yet another riveting, multi-layered performance from Daniel Craig.
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Mike Binder's The Upside of Anger is perhaps a little too on-the-nose at the finish, but it's honest and human and builds into something tangible, and it contains one of the most likably relaxed and touching Kevin Costner performances ever.
The next big achiever, I'm guessing, with be Arie Posin's The Chumscrubber, which is screening tomorrow night (i.e., Tuesday) at the Eccles. As I'm leaving Thursday morning I'm already starting to grapple with the likelihood of not being able to see this and that film, given the workload and all.
Yesterday afternoon I caught Mike Mills' Thumbsucker, and after it was over I can't say I was doing cartwheels in the Racquet Club parking lot. A moderately resonant drama about teenage uncertainty and suburban angst, it's one of those films that works on a scene-by-scene basis, but seems to wander and glide along without having a particular goal in mind. There's no story tension or a discernible arc, but the human-scale observations about this and that (pic is based on Walter Kirn's novel of the same name) ring true, for the most part...for what it's worth.
I'm going to just post what I have now and maybe revisit the Intel room at the Yarrow Hotel this afternoon and add or refine or whatever. This is so friggin' half-assed, I can't stand it.
Out of twelve or thirteen films I've seen here so far, none have delivered a package of this caliber -- absolutely note-perfect acting (headlined by Terrence Howard's already-legendary performance as D-Jay, a flawed, at times brutally insensitive man in a classic do-or-die struggle to make it as a rap artist), formulaic panache, a quality that feels to me like ripe atmospheric truth, exotic charm and sublime emotional satisfaction.
Some are saying Flow is too formulaic, or that it faces an uphill challenge with red-state audiences who may not want to get up close and personal with a film about a drawlin' Memphis pimp. You know what I'm saying. A certain vaguely racist aversion.
Well, it is formulaic...but in the most intriguing way possible. To say you've "seen this kind of film before" means nothing. The question must always be, "How well was it made, and how much did you care?"

Every frame of this movie says, "You know what we're doing...this guy wants to climb out of his own hole and maybe we're gonna show him do that...but we're gonna do it in a way that feels right to us." And once D-Jay hooks up with Anderson and Qualls and starts to put together a sound and record a few tracks, Hustle & Flow lifts off the ground and pretty much stays there, suspended.
I find it staggering that seasoned film industry journos would suggest, as they have to me over the last 24 hours or so, that not enough paying customers will want to see this thing. Forget the funky backdrops and gritty-ass particulars -- is there anyone out there who can't relate to a character who feels stuck in a tired groove and wants to do more with his/her life? Is there anything more commonly understood these days?
Whatever you might expect to feel about D-Jay, he is, by the force of Howard's acting and Brewer's behind-the-camera input, utterly real and believable, and even with his anger and brutality you can't help but root for him. And, for that matter, the film.
Okay, I always feel this way...but it's more pronounced during Sundance. The question each day is, "How many bowling pins will fall to the floor today? How many films I'd like to see or parties I'd like to attend or quickie interviews I'd like to do will I be forced to blow off due to having to feed this bear of a column?"
I started writing this early Monday morning (just before eight), and at one point I thought I had about two hours before having to run off to see the first film of the day -- Steve James' Reel Paradise, a 110-minute doc about indie film maven John Pierson's experience running a small movie theatre on the island of Fiji.
But I didn't make the Pierson screening, and now, at 11:25 ayem, I'm trying to finish in time to make the noon screening of Pretty Persuasion at the Eccles. And I'm wondering if I can even make that.
The MTV execs went home around 4 ayem, but the deal closed at roughly 5:30 am this morning, partly as a result of a certain Paramount executive remarking to UTA's Jeremy Zimmer, "We can't do this anymore...I have to go to bed."
No immediate word as to whether Hustle & Flow will be distributed by "big" Paramount or "little" Paramount (i.e., Paramount Classics), but the answer sounds like a no-brainer. Indie-type Sundance movies need the kind of TLC that is generally not dispensed (no offense) by big-studio marketing departments.
The $9 million is part of a $16 million, 3-picture deal that will cover two other films to be produced and directed by Flow producer John Singleton for $3.5 million each.
Paramount publicist Nancy Kirkpatrick called to say that Paramount's newly-installed chief Brad Grey, plus Par marketing head Rob Friedman and production president Donald De Line, saw Hustle & Flow in Los Angeles on Saturday night while Viacom co-president and COO Tom Freston was catching it at the same time at the Park City Racquet Club.
I found it interesting that Howard, who was the last Hustle cast member to be called to the stage after Saturday's screening, seemed more comfortable on the edge of the spotlight than occupying it front-and-center.
There's no question that his performance as D-Jay, a Memphis pimp in a midlife crisis with musical aspirations, has put him on the map in the exact same way that Morgan Freeman's performance as a pimp in Street Smart (along with Pauline Kael's rave in The New Yorker) turned him into "Morgan Freeman."
Anyway, the JPEGs now and the copy on Monday morning sometime....along with some new photos I'll probably snap during my Sunday adventures after I finish posting (which always takes longer than expected).



"And you're right about the outback police force, by the way. But then any force would have trouble patrolling an area where people own farms that are bigger than some European countries." -- John Truslove, Melbourne, Australia.
Wells to Truslove: Thanks for offering the correction. I'll fix the error right away.

"I think there’s more in you yet to write about porn society, as typified by Paris Hilton. I find it interesting that on this you and I agree. Any chance you’ll write more about that issue?" -- Roy "Griff" Griffis
Posted by Jeffrey Wells on January 24, 2005 at 11:08 AM
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