“The average studio feature now costs $71 million to produce and $36 million to market, according to the Motion Picture Association of America, a 35 percent increase from the average at the start of the decade. In the world of independent films, costs are up even more — 83 percent during the same period.” — from Brooks Barnes‘ 10.18 N.Y. Times article about the degree of color-blindness in Hollywood decision-making about which films to green-light. It’s called “Race and the Safe Hollywood Bet.”

Deadline Hollywood Daily‘s Nikki Finke reported exit polling earlier today about W., and the bottom line is that “27% felt the movie was better than expected, 38% felt it was not as good as expected (this was consistent across all groups, especially liberals), and 35% felt it was as good as expected.” Basically a 62-38 split favoring positive.

I alluded to this before but it can’t hurt to reiterate. Just to be fair, as The Envelope‘s Tom O’Neil was on Friday and as Variety‘s Pamela McLintock was last Tuesday about Showeast reactions, Frost/Nixon reactions have been more mixed than outright negative (although two or three London Film Festival reviews obviously were).

“The real reason for The Soloist getting bumped into March ’09? Every single test, every single cut, the scores kept going down. It’s a non-audience picture and just a tank.” — a good and trusted fellow who tends to pass along good stuff.
And yet I wonder. How problematic could Joe Wright‘s film be if it’s scheduled to open the AFI Fest a few days from now?

“I directly know three people who have seen The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, one in a rough state in the editing room, and they were all weeping in the end. Is it 2 hours and 45 minutes? Yes, but that’s what it is. Except nobody wants to be a front-runner, so Paramount is going to keep it under wraps [until mid to late November].” — passed along by one of those “guy” sources that have mildly irritated Patrick Goldstein for being off-the-record and not described but quoted all the same.

The major London papers have reviewed Quantum of Solace, the new 007 film, and the reactions are pretty good. Not ecstatic, but primarly enthusiastic and supportive.

One slight dissenter is the Telegraph‘s Mark Monahan who says the new film “lacks Casino Royale‘s narrative drive, and is less than the sum of its parts.” He adds, however, that “those parts are often terrific. See it for them, and see it for Daniel Craig‘s fully-formed Bond: angry, icily unsentimental, and fleetingly borderline psychotic at the close.”
Times Online critic James Christopher writes that “director Marc Forster has absorbed the lucrative lessons discovered in Martin Campbell‘s Casino Royale. He has also managed to pace his sequel much better.
“Royale felt slightly wheel-clamped by one too many longeurs. If anything, the crunching chase sequences in Quantum of Solace are even more magnificently dangerous. And the daredevil leaps and tumbles through glass roofs are just as sensational as the splintering high-speed pyrotechnics.
“But it’s the amount of heartache and punishment that Craig’s new Bond absorbs that makes him look so right for our times. Bond is no longer a work in progress. He is now the cruel, finished article.”
LIkewise, the Guardian‘s Peter Bradshaw is somewhere between okay and pleased with the film — he submits to the rock ‘n’ roll — but is primarily a fan of Craig’s performance.

Gen. Colin Powell‘s endorsement of Barack Obama this morning — “a seal of approval [by] the most important military figure of the age,” a Meet the Press commentator stated — will almost certainly increase Obama’s poll ratings with conservative over-55s and fortify the general movement in Obama’s direction.

The term “kitchen sink cinema” refers to grittily realistic black-and-white British films made in the late ’50s to early ’60s about working-class characters afflicted by despair, banality and a sense of entrapment. I don’t know how many of them were made exactly, but my favorites are John Schlesinger‘s A Kind of Loving, Tony Richardson‘s Look Back in Anger, A Taste of Honey, The Entertainer and The Loneliness of the Long-Distance Runner, Karl Reisz‘s Saturday Night and Sunday Morning and Lindsay Anderson‘s This Sporting Life. What is that, seven?

I’ve always thought the term “kitchen sink” had something to do with one of these films having depicted a scene in which one of the protagonists (Alan Bates in A Kind of Loving or Albert Finney in Saturday Night and Sunday Morning) coming home drunk late Saturday night and literally throwing up in the kitchen sink. It may have come from a line Pauline Kael wrote about the genre, but I know I’ve had this image in my head for years. But it just hit me with a start that I can’t remember which actor in which film did the actual vomiting…if in fact it happened in one of these films.

Or is the term “kitchen sink” is in fact “derived from an expressionist painting by John Bratby which contained an image of a kitchen sink”?, as it says on the kitchen-sink Wikipedia page? “The critic David Sylvester wrote an article in 1954 about trends in recent English art, calling his article ‘The Kitchen Sink’ in reference to Bratby’s picture. Sylvester argued that there was a new interest among young painters in domestic scenes, with stress on the banality of life.”

“Is Gen. Colin Powell getting ready to endorse Sen. Barack Obama on Meet the Press this Sunday? Two sources close to Powell, speaking on the condition of anonymity, predict that he will. On the record, a third, Ken Duberstein, a Washington lobbyist and former White House chief of staff, didn’t flatly deny it. ‘You can say what you want,’ he told me, ‘but I didn’t tell you that and neither did Powell.'” – from Howard Fineman‘s Newsweek column, posted last night.
Talk about an essential viewing experience. Meet The Press airs on Sunday mornings at…what is it, 8 am?
The other thing to watch this weekend, obviously, is Saturday Night Live, which will feature guests appearances by Sarah Palin and Josh Brolin. Obviously Palin and Tina Fey will appear side-by-side. The cool thing would be to have them sing a duet. “The Shoop-Shoop Song,” I’m thinking. But really, how can anyone laugh at — with — Palin, given what she is and the rancid game she’s playing? It’s revolting to think of her getting a boost in her personal ratings because Lorne Michaels wants a boost for SNL.

Max Payne, a complete piece of video-game merde, is the weekend’s #1 film with a projected $19.2 million by Sunday night. The Secret Life of Bees will come in second with $11.8 million with Beverly Hills Chihuahua, a movie that’s already infamous for what it implies about semi-arrogant xenophobic attitudes among materialistic middle-class Americans, coming in third with $11.6 million.
W. — easily the best new film out there — is, according to my source, looking at a fourth-place finish with $11.5 million. (Nikki Finke, however, has been told it’ll come in second with about $12 million.) Eagle Eye, another piece of shit, will come in fifth with 7.4 million.
The sixth-place Body of Lies will be down 44% from last weekend’s attendance, down to $2600 a print. It’ll be a push for this $80 or $90 million spy thriller to make $40 million domestic. It’s a disaster, is what it is.
Quarantine, $6.1 million. Nick and Nora, $3.8 million. Sex Drive, $3.6 millon. Fireproof, $2.7 million.

As I didn’t say yesterday, one reasons Paramount decided to takeThe Soloist out of the year-end awards game (i.e., shifting its release date from 11.21.08 to 3.13.09) was to open thngs up Oscar-potential-wise for The Curious Case of Benjamin Button and Revolutionary Road. Another reason, many suspect, was that Viacom’s Sumner Redstone wanted to pass along a little “up yours” message to Soloist producer DreamWorks in the wake of their rancorous split.
On top of which the Joe Wright drama, which I did mention yesterday, is thought in some quarters to be a little schmaltzy and therefore perhaps lacking the stellar chops that a strong year-end Best Picture contender should have. Which isn’t to say it’s a problem film. I’ve heard from two sources that it’s somewhere between very good, good and not bad.
The Shine-like story of Los Angeles Times columnist Steve Lopez‘s relationship with a homeless musician, The Soloist was looking at the very least like a possible uptick opportunity for costars Robert Downey, Jr. and Jamie Foxx regarding possible year-end acting honors and distinctions. No more!
Here’s Patrick Goldstein‘s take in his Big Picture bloggy-blog, which is still difficult to find and a huge pain in the ass for that.
“Paramount apparently told its partners, as well as top CAA brass, who represent most of the talent on the picture, that the studio was under pressure from Viacom superiors to cut costs, having recently acknowledged that it was thinning out its future release schedule. With even Sumner Redstone being forced to sell stock to keep his investments afloat, the studio was forced to take drastic measures. With four potential Oscar movies slated for year-end release, something had to give.
“It certainly wasn’t going to be The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, an expensive and much-anticipated Brad Pitt and David Fincher collaboration that studio chief Brad Grey has already publicly embraced as his ticket to a front-row seat Feb. 22nd at the Kodak Theater. And it certainly wasn’t going to be Revolutionary Road, a Scott Rudin-produced literary drama with a star too big to offend (Leonardo DiCaprio) and the kind of rarified subject matter that desperately needs Oscar buzz to sell tickets.
“That left the studio’s Ed Zwick-directed drama, Defiance, which is a long-shot for Oscars, but still enough of a contender that while it’s being pushed back to late December, is still getting an Oscar qualifying run before going wide in January.
“That made The Soloist the low man on the totem pole, since it conceivably has enough commercial potential to make a dent at the box office in the spring without the benefit of any Oscar coattails. Since the film was produced by Dreamworks, which just concluded an ugly divorce with Paramount, the inside chatter has focused on the idea that Paramount is somehow punishing Dreamworks by robbing the departing Spielberg team of any Oscar glory.”