Jeffrey Wells Joerg Wagner‘s Motodrom, one of the coolest (because of its avant-garde simplicity and lack of pretension) shorts I saw at Sundance ’07. Many other excellent shorts are downloadable on the Sundance site, but I couldn’t find one I saw that played just before Once, about a young guy and a girl flirting on the Paris metro by underlining words in books they’re holding on their laps. Does anyone have a link to this?
I went to the opening-night Factory Girl party for the Santa Barbara Film Festival last night, but I couldn’t get into the groove today. I blew off the Sacha Baron Cohen discussion at the Lobero early this afternoon, and then I couldn’t bring myself to attend the Helen Mirren tribute this evening at the Arlington. I don’t know why, but maybe I’m just feeling Cohen-ed and Mirren-ed out. (A lot of us are, no?) I promise to do better tomorrow. Apologies to Roger Durling and the gang — just an “off” day. (Or something.)
There is something profoundly wrong with the mentality behind the Sundance aquisition frenzy. No, not Paramount Vantage paying $7 million for Son of Rambow (i.e., Billy Elliott if directed by Tim Burton). Not Adrienne Shelly‘s Waitress selling to Fox Searchlight for $4 million, despite it being a somewhat hammy, too-obvious thing. And not Harvey Weinstein buying Grace is Gone, a steady, honest film about loss and denial that may find fans among the rural reds. All of these are solid deals that make sense.
What’s mind-blowing is the fact is that none of them deliver as much of an exquisite, true-hearted high as John Carney‘s Once, and this little Irish film isn’t even getting mentioned as a curious non-seller in articles about Sundance pickup action. Forget bottom-line distribution execs — even journalists are ignoring it. The problem, as everyone knows, is that it’s seen as a marketing challenge. Maybe, but it works when you sit down and watch it.
There’s one particular acquisition — First Look’s payment of $3 million for a piece of shit called The King of California, which is basically about a bearded Michael Douglas acting wiggy and eccentric and Fisher King-y — is driving me up the wall. Mike Cahill‘s movie is a wash, a throwaway…but it sold because distribs believe they can sell Douglas and Evan Rachel Wood in the leads. Once, trust me, is several times more likable and engaging, and yet distributors are reportedly steer- ing clear. As Jack Nicholson‘s gangster says in The Departed, “That’s called a paradox.”
Here’s one way to sell Once…..ready? Sell it as the best date movie since The Notebook. No, since Titanic. Use the old Don Juan DeMarco line — “If you can’t get laid after taking her to see Once, you can’t get laid.”
Here, if you’re interested, is the film’s signature song — Glen Hansard‘s “Slowly Falling”.
An Envelope podcast chat (recorded Thursday afternoon) between myself and Tom O’Neil about Sundance ’07 — Once, Black Snake Moan, Grace is Gone, The Savages, etc. Plus L.A. Times critic Kenneth Turan talking about same — Once, Grace Is Gone — plus Hounddog, Away From Her, In The Shadow of the Moon, et. al.
This TMZ video of Nicole Kidman‘s auto crash on the set of The Invasion, which appeared on the Drudge Report yesterday morning, shows Kidman grimacing for a very brief second, but then walking away from the banged up vehicle a few seconds later in a relaxed, we-be-cool way. I like that quality in a woman. This was a definite image-enhancer. (Apologies for putting in the wrong link yesterday — “Leo jeered by Spanish press” — which, by the way, is pretty funny, the apparent lesson being that it’s rude to keep press people waiting.)
Today is Paul Newman‘s 82nd birthday, which reminds me that a respected big-name critic is hard at work on an ambitious Newman biography (he’s been operating under-the-radar for the last several months). Let’s hope everything’s jake when the book finally comes out, which may be next year. Meanwhile, Turner Classic Movies is airing a kline-up of Newman films this week — Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, Hud, The Hustler, The Rack and The Prize. The latter two aren’t available on DVD.
This is bad, very bad, for the image of George Clooney. Good Night and Good Luck, Darfur and Pamela Anderson don’t mix. I’m hoping it’s not true; in fact, I’m going into arbitrary denial right now and presuming it isn’t. One should always either fuck “up” or fuck laterally, but never, ever beneath your station.
Leaving Salt Lake City this morning for Los Angeles, then driving right up to Santa Barbara for Roger Durling‘s hot-shit film festival, which kicks off tonight with a screening of Factory Girl. No more posts until day’s end, at best.
After much waiting, the Los Angeles memorial gathering for the late Robert Altman has been scheduled. It will happen on Sunday, 3.4.07, at the main Directors Guild theatre, at 2 pm. The New York version will happen about two weeks earlier, on Tuesday, 2.20.07.
“And then the Best Picture category was announced: Babel, The Departed, Little Miss Sunshine, he Queen and Letters From Iwo Jima. Wait…are they nominating six [films] this year? The hundreds of reporters in the [Academy] auditorium were leaning heads together, making sure that they did not hear the name Dreamgirls.
They did not.” — from David Carr‘s Oscar nomination piece in the N.Y. Times.
“David Geffen‘s Dreamgirls was snubbed because Hollywood is jealous of him. So what that the Motown musical led with eight Oscar nominations (three of them for Best Song)? That tally may be a promotional wet dream, but trust me, DreamWorks and Paramount, who’ve been pimping this pic since those disgusting $25 movie tickets during the first 10 days of its theatrical run, are having dry-hump nightmares.
“Shut out for Best Picture. Shut out for Best Director. Shut out for Best Actor/Actress. Among the big nominations, it made do with only Best Supporting Actor and Actress. There was too much hype and it came too early for this musical to survive even the shortened awards season without the inevitable backlash. So it was bitch-slapped by the Academy’s nominating formula, which gives the advantage to films with a small but passionate following vs. films with broad lukewarm support.
“Clearly, those spiteful Academy members are sending the message to Geffen that no matter how rich and powerful he is, they will deny him what he most desires: to exit the movie industry accompanied by Oscar. Individually, none of the Oscar voters would dare take on David. But there’s safety in numbers, so they figure, what the hell.” — from Nikki Finke‘s Oscar nom anlaysis piece, “Ther Scars of Oscars.”
