Presumably a portion of the HE readership was moved to see Fifty Shades of Grey this weekend, most likely as a Valentine’s Day concession to the girlfriend or wife. Here’s my review again, but please have at it yourselves. In the meantime here are my five favorite excerpts from Anthony Lane‘s New Yorker review:

(1) “If the figures are correct, ‘Fifty Shades of Grey’, by E. L. James, has been bought by more than a hundred million people, of whom only twenty million were under the impression that it was a paint catalogue. That leaves a solid eighty million or so who, upon reading sentences such as ‘He strokes his chin thoughtfully with his long, skilled fingers,’ had to lie down for a while and let the creamy waves of ecstasy subside.”

(2) “When Christian, alarmed by Ana’s maidenhood, considers ‘rectifying the situation,’ she replies, ‘I’m a situation?’ — a sharp rejoinder, although if I were her I’d be much more worried about the rectifying.”

Renowned French-born actor Louis Jourdan, who enjoyed fame and fortune as a romantic lead for a little over 15 years, starting with Alfred Hitchcock‘s The Paradine Case (’47) and more or less ending his run in The V.I.Ps (’63), died yesterday at age 93. Once he became famous he was almost always cast as the continental, cultivated charmer. (One exception was when Jourdan played a baddie opposite Doris Day in Julie.) He kept working for decades after that, and I know he rebounded with a villain role in Octopussy (’82) but I swear to God I don’t remember him in that film. Perhaps he didn’t chew enough scenery or acted too civilized? The Marseilles-born Jourdan began his career in the French cinema in the early to mid ’40s and served in the French resistance toward the end of World War II. His best-known role was in Gigi (’58), a popular Paris-set musical with Leslie Caron and Maurice Chevalier. Following his Paradine Case debut Jourdan’s biggest films were Letter from an Unknown Woman (’48), Bird of Paradise (’51), Three Coins in the Fountain (’54), The Swan (’56), The Best of Everything (’59), Can-Can (’60) and, as noted, The V.I.Ps. The poor guy lost his only son, Louis Henry Jourdan, to a drug overdose in ’81.

The 2014/15 Oscar season will experience a crashing finale seven days from now, and the Spirit Awards will happen the day before. (I’m picking up my Spirit press pass and ticket tomorrow.) Only two major Oscar caregories are generating suspense: Birdman vs. Boyhood for Best Picture and Alejandro G. Inarritu vs. Richard Linklater for Best Director. Except for the crazy BAFTAs all signs point to Birdman and Inarritu prevailing, but the Oscar blogoscenti keep insisting that the Academy membership is too hazy-minded to predict and that Boyhood and Linklater might pull off a surprise. Maybe. Both are striking first-rate achievements, and if the tide goes against Birdman…well, okay. The Godz won’t be happy but it won’t be a tragedy.

I can only imagine the elation that will spread across the land when Julianne Moore takes the Best Actress Oscar for a performance that everyone respects in a tedious film that almost everyone has either ignored or not even seen. Ditto when Eddie Redmayne prevails as Best Actor (I’ve pretty much given up on my Michael Keaton dream…an up-and-down career, world-class chops and a great Oscar narrative doesn’t count when you’re up against a cute British puppy dog). Double ditto when J.K. Simmons wins for Best Supporting Actor and Patricia Arquette takes it for Best Supporting Actress. And it’ll be cool when the authors of The Grand Budapest Hotel and The Imitation Game or Whiplash win the Best Original and Best Adapted Screenplay Oscars.

I’ll be watching with the usual bells on, of course, but I suspect I’ll be feeling bored much of the time and that I might have a problem or two with Neil Patrick Harris. But maybe not. Bring on 2015, which is looking like a hell of a year.

Best Picture: Should win/ought to win/favored by MovieGodz — Birdman; would win if American ticket-buyers had anything to say about it — American Sniper.

Best Director: Should win/ought to win/favored by MovieGodz — Birdman‘s Alejandro G. Inarritu. Might win and if so that’ll be okay — Boyhood‘s Richard Linklater.

Update: The Daily Show‘s Jessica Williams posted the following Sunday on Twitter: “I’m not hosting. Thank you but I am extremely under-qualified for the job! At this age (25) if something happens politically that I don’t agree with, I need to go to my room & like not come out for, like, 7 days. That being said I am super not right for it, but there are quite a few people who are! Can’t wait to stick around & see what happens.”

Earlier: HE readers have presumably heard or more precisely been informed that 25 year-old Daily Show correspondent Jessica Williams will replace Jon Stewart later this year. The decision was more or less confirmed a couple of days ago when a clip from Hot Tub Time Machine 2 (Paramount, 2.20) announced that Williams will be sitting in Stewart’s chair ten years hence. Williams is sharp, punchy, brilliant, tall, pointed…a cool choice. Then again most of her Daily Show reports have been, naturally enough, about the perspective of a 25 year-old black woman dealing with sexism, racial profiling and other oppressive cards dealt by old or old-ish white assholes. (Including liberal ones.) And after reviewing some of Williams’ clips this morning, I have to say I felt a slight pause. I’m wondering if even 20something guys will continue to watch The Daily Show as often with Jessica using it as a soapbox to fight the power and redress wrongs for you-go-girls.

After a six-year delay David O. Russell‘s…sorry, Stephen Greene‘s Accidental Love has begun streaming, and has been panned by a small handful. I saw it last night, expecting the expected. But I found it spirited, often amusing and even delightful in short spurts. I’m telling you at the very least that Rodrigo Perez‘s Indiewire pan is way too harsh. Accidental Love is far from a knockout but it’s no disaster either. It’s a minor Russell detour and obviously years out of date (it’s basically a “we all need decent health care!” piece) but portions of this incomplete governmental farce, previously known as Nailed, are far better than indicated by the subdued buzz, particularly in view of Russell having washed his hands of it years ago.

Now and then Accidental Love reminded me of the tone and attitude of Russell’s much-praised American Hustle. While Hustle is probably a better, more fully developed piece, certainly by the standards of most critics, I enjoyed the occasionally inspired Love a bit more. It doesn’t work all that well but it’s insane fun at times. Certainly if you watch it as a flawed thing that will kick into gear every so often and that’s all. I don’t need films to work all around the track if they’re got a few special fragments, and that’s more or less the case here.

No devotee of mind-bending, zeitgeist-reflecting cinema will deny that William Cameron Menzies‘ Invaders From Mars (’53) is one of the most essential sci-fi films of all time — a spooky, purposefully unreal, intensely nightmarish thing that used kid-POV storytelling, surreal dreamscape images and one of the all-time creepiest scores ever composed. (The stone genius behind the famous “sand choir” theme was Raoul Kraushaar.) Last night I thought it might be fun to watch Invaders again via Amazon HD streaming, but it’s not available. On any streaming service apparently. And there’s only one DVD left, according to Amazon, and it’ll cost you $177 dollars plus shipping. That’s because the last DVD release, courtesy of the long-defunct United American Video, came out 13 years ago and nobody has re-upped. A Bluray of Invaders From Mars, which is 18 or 19 times better than Tobe Hooper‘s 1986 remake (which is being being Bluray’ed in April), might not be economically feasible, but an HD version should be streaming at the very least.

The bad guy here. I’m told, is Kansas City-based rights-owner Wade Williams, who holds the rights to Invaders From Mars and owns the original elements. Williams apparently won’t let anyone do a digital HD upgrade without being paid an exorbitant, completely unrealistic fee. Williams is regarded as a notorious “rights squatter” who thinks and operates in the mule-headed tradition of Raymond Rohauer.

I reviewed Clint Eastwood‘s American Sniper a little more than three months ago. I’m reposting in case any Academy members who’re reading this are thinking of putting Sniper in their #1 position for Best Picture: “American Sniper is a first-rate visceral combat flick — definitely a ride and a half in that respect — with a slight melancholy undertow and a not-so-hot domestic subplot. The several Iraq War combat sequences are major heartbeat accelerators — nervy, rousing, exquisitely shot and cut — and yet, oddly, Sniper never quite lifts off the pad. Well, it lifts off but then it comes back down. Up, down, steady as she goes, less up, down, up again.

“There’s something a bit rote and at times even flat about portions of it, and that means, no offense, that altogether Sniper is not quite blue ribbon. But it’s certainly good enough if you adjust your expectations and you’re not expecting something, you know, Oscar-baity.

“Sniper is basically one of those ‘guy grew up this way and then he met this girl and joined the military after 9/11 and then this happened and that happened” films. The subject is a guy-guy — the late, legendary Navy Seal sniper Chris Kyle— who lived quite large in a sense, which is to say mythically by killing 160 enemy combatants during his four tours in Iraq. It tells an intriguing and at times suspenseful tale but not my idea of a great one, and while it ends on a tragic note it doesn’t deliver anything you could call a knockout finish — it doesn’t hit you on the side of the head like a waffle iron, which is how I felt at the end of Unforgiven and Million Dollar Baby.

I’ve made no secret of my admiration for Rory Kennedy‘s Last Days in Vietnam, which I first saw last June at L.A. FilmFest. It is, I feel, her best film ever and one of the two finest competing for the Best Feature-Length Documentary Oscar, the other being Laura Poitras‘s Citizenfour. Kennedy and I spoke this afternoon for about 17 minutes. She’s been making docs for 16 years, but I didn’t really pay attention until Ghosts of Abu Ghraib (’07), which pretty much everyone admired, and particularly the emotionally affecting Ethel, which I saw at the 2012 Sundance Film Festival and later aired on HBO on 10.18.12. Last Days in Vietnam has made a big impression because of its humanity. It’s a doc about Americans who showed compassion and decency and stuck their neck out for their Vietnamese friends during the final days of the Vietnam War. I’ve told Kennedy before that it’s a shame Last Days will probably never be seen in Vietnam due to presumed objections over political content. The Hanoi government would probably argue with Kennedy’s portrayal of the victorious North Vietnamese forces looking to settle scores with thousands of South Vietnamese who threw in their lot with American forces, which of course they did. (Tens of thousands were murdered or otherwise taken to task.) Kennedy’s film doesn’t lie but her main thrust is not political or tactical criticism but an honoring of loyalty and humane instincts and taking care of your own. Nobody’s angry about the war over there any more. I visited Vietnam in 2012 and ’13, and my sense was that the citizens have moved on and are living in the present. The young guys I met in Hanoi, Hue and Hoi An were all into iPhones and iPads and making money and getting ahead as best they could. I think they’d understand and admire Kennedy’s doc if they had a chance to see it. Again, the mp3.

“If there’s any good news here, it’s that, despite rumors to the contrary, Accidental Love is very much a coherent movie. It’s not incomplete; it’s just been sloppily completed—cobbled together, in other words, by [distribution guys] looking to salvage a releasable product out of footage crying out to be reshot or reworked. Yet traces of David O. Russell’s spirit, a humane screwball exuberance, poke through the compromised results. It’s there in the way the movie keeps stuffing a bunch of yammering eccentrics in a room together, and also in the bug-eyed performance the director coaxes out of Jake Gyllenhaal, whose character — a flip-flopping, libidinous politician — could have fit neatly into American Hustle. Russell fans owe it to themselves to see this disowned disaster, painful as that act of completism will be.” — from A.A. Dowd‘s A.V. Club review of a facsimile of Russell’s never-completed Nailed, partially shot in ’08 and now called, as noted, Accidental Love and currently viewable on VOD. I’ve been wondering about this film for over six years and tonight, finally, I finally get to see it.

I did a brief chat with Citizenfour director Laura Poitras during last week’s Santa Barbara Int’l Film Festival. I don’t know why I forgot to post it, but I was certainly jolted out of my lethargy yesterday when I watched Poitras, Edward Snowden and Glenn Greenwald being interviewed by the late David Carr…less than 24 hours ago! I asked Poitras many of the same questions that everyone else has asked her. I love her film, have seen it five or six times…and so I’m lacking the instinct to do anything but caress and approve. One thing that I hit on (and which Poitras wasn’t interested in…fine) is that it would be great if someone like herself could deliver a strong, American-made doc in the vein of Adam Curtis‘s The Power of Nightmares (’04), which introduced an idea that the anti-western Islamic terrorists and the rightie hardliners are almost identical in their purist fervor, and are pretty much cut from the same philosophical cloth. Which was more or less replicated in that “American Taliban” rant that Aaron Sorkin wrote for The Newsroom, and which aired two years ago. Again, the mp3.

Citizenfour director Laura Poitras inside the Hotel Santa Barbara during last week’s Santa Barbara Int’l Film Festival.