We’re all presuming that Interstellar, Unbroken and The Imitation Game will be Best Picture nominees when all is said and done, but something in me rebelled when I saw this montage. It sits at the top of a Kris Tapley-authored Hitfix piece about the Best Picture race. These are the presumed default hotties that lazy mainstream softies have been predicting for many weeks. Maybe but from my obviously ignorant vantage point, having seen The Imitation Game but not having seen Interstellar or Unbroken, I don’t see what’s so inherently wonderful about the latter two. Consideration #1: Surviving a brutal wartime ordeal is not necessarily a great story or the ingredients of a great film — it’s merely an endurance test. Consideration #2: You can’t save the residents of a dying, dust-choked planet by travelling to another planet or exploring it or whatever the fuck Matthew McConaughey and his space homies are up to, and yet losing out on witnessing and sharing in the various stages of your children’s lives would be a heartbreaker for any parent. All I know is that I vaguely resent being told that these are the Big Three. I’m not saying I won’t fall for them when they’re screened — I very well might. But I resent being told over and over by Oscar-blogging bend-overs that these are the Hot Babies to Beat. Make way, they’re coming!

I promised the other day that I would no longer refer to Liam Neeson as a paycheck guy, but here we go again. I can tell you that the low-rent under-40 males who made cracks about A Walk Among The Tombstones being a “dad film” will probably show up for this in droves.

In my mind Montgomery Clift, the first method-y actor to punch through the studio system and become a major star, peaked from Red River through From Here To Eternity — a seven-year run. From the early to mid ’50s Clift, Marlon Brando and James Dean were the reigning acting gods…legendary figures then and, I thought, still iconic figures today. But two days ago it hit me that Clift is no longer regarded as a major figure, or is certainly not regarded in the same light as Brando or Dean. My older son Jett, to whom I showed classic films all through his early youth and who knows the cinema realm fairly well, had to be reminded who Clift was when his name came up in conversation, and he couldn’t name a single film that Clift starred in, not even Red River or I Confess or A Place In The Sun or Eternity. His girlfriend Caitlin, a whipsmart marketing professional, knows Clift’s name but couldn’t remember any of his films. I’m presuming these two are canaries in the GenY coal mine. If they don’t know who Clift was, nobody does. Am I wrong? I’m not talking about serious GenY film hounds — I’m talking about casual Netflix/Hulu viewers and people who go to maybe two or three films a month. It’s a shock. For the under-35s Montgomery Clift might as well be John Ireland or Wendell Corey or Burgess Meredith.

(l. to r.) Clift, Marlon Brando, Dean Martin during filming of The Young Lions.

2014 is a big year for solo drumming in movies with the much-hailed Whiplash (Sony Pictures Classics, 10.10) about to hit and an exciting all-percussion score about to be savored when Alejandro G. Inarritu‘s Birdman (Fox Searchlight, 10.17) opens a week later. Birdman‘s drummer-composer is Antonio Sanchez, who routinely plays and tours year-round with Pat Metheny. A little while ago we spoke and kicked things around. Sanchez and Inarritu hail from Mexico — that’s one connection. Inarritu introduced himself to Sanchez after a Metheny group concert in Los Angeles and proposed an all-percussive score. It was recorded in New York during filming last spring. Curious Anecdote #1: Twice during Birdman a drummer is seen playing drums but it’s not Sanchez (who was away touring) — it’s Nate Smith. Curious Anecdote #2: Not only has Sanchez still not seen a finished cut of Birdman (he caught a rough version last year) but probably won’t see it until November when he returns from his latest tour. Here’s a taste of Sanchez’s score; here’s another. But you have to hear it loud and crisp and slampbangy with a great theatrical sound system. Here’s a link to the soundtrack’s Amazon page. It streets on 10.14. Again, the mp3.

Antonio Sasnchez, composer of Birdman‘s all-percussion score.

Two days ago Mashable’s Chris Taylor (“How Star Wars Conquered The Universe“) posted an interview (audio + transcribed) with Stars Wars and Empire Strikes Back producer Gary Kurtz, whom I had the honor of interviewing (along with Film Threat‘s Chris Gore) back in the late ’90s. Here are some highlights:

(l. to r.) Irvin Kershner, Frank Oz, Jim Henson, unknown female puppeteer (?), Gary Kurtz during filming of The Empire Strikes Back.

“I think George [Lucas] had it in his mind that he could direct the film remotely by telling [Irvin] Kershner what to do, and Kersh was not that kind of director. George only came over [to London] a few times during the shooting. Kersh said, ‘Look, you hired me to make this movie, [and] I’m going to make it.” And he did. He was a bit slow sometimes, and we did have to use a second unit a couple of times. I directed the second unit after John Barry died suddenly in the first week. So that threw us.

Later this month I’ll be visiting the 2014 Savannah Film Festival (10.25 through 11.1) for about four days. I don’t have clue #1 what films will be shown or what filmmakers will attend, but I have faith. I’ve been there two or three times before. It’s the vibe and the historical aroma and the hanging moss and the bike-riding and the pretty women. You can bet I’ll be visiting Paula Deen’s Lady & Sons restaurant at some point. Here are some shots and videos I took three years ago:

“When it comes to Best Picture criteria, most people want the ‘big thing’…the lump in the throat that melts you down, the movie that delivers some profound bedrock truth about our common experience, that makes you want to hug your father or your daughter…that comfort, that assurance, that touch of a quaalude high. And if I ever get to the point that a movie like War Horse or The Artist or The Help makes me feel that way, please take me out behind the building and shoot me in the head, twice.” — from a 10.29.11 HE piece called “Miniature Golf.”

We should all take comfort that among the current Best Picture faves none are as cute or cloying or shamefully manipulative as The Artist, War Horse or The Help. The top three —Birdman, Boyhood and Gone Girl — are admirably lacking in these characteristics. Ditto The Theory of Everything, The Imitation Game, Foxcatcher and The Grand Budapest Hotel. And you know that A Most Violent Year, Inherent Vice, American Sniper, Fury, Big Eyes and The Gambler haven’t the slightest interest in dropping a quaalude into anyone’s drink.