Gold Derby‘s Tom O’Neil and Deadline‘s Pete Hammond answer two key questions: (1) Why has Hammond ditched The King’s Speech?, and (2) Can The Fighter pull off an upset? (Take note, incidentally, that Hammond has The Fighter in second place above The King’s Speech in his rankings.)

I’ve always loved Renata Adler‘s 4.4.68 review of 2001: A Space Odyssey. She didn’t really get it and in fact puts it down, but she’d gotten parts of it, or several fragments, and she knew (or sensed) there was probably more where that came from. She was only 30 when she wrote her piece, and probably had more than a few space-cadet friends who were getting high and listening to Dylan and the Beatles, etc. And a voice was telling her, “You’d be smart not to pan this outright despite your gut feelings…go a little easy.”

I’d like to think that if I’d seen one of the most unusual and challenging films of the ’60s cold and had to write a review right away, I’d have been as observant as she. I’d like to think I would have been a little more perceptive, but that’s easy to say.

“Even the M-G-M lion is stylized and abstracted in Stanley Kubrick‘s 2001: A Space Odyssey, a film in which infinite care, intelligence, patience, imagination and Cinerama have been devoted to what looks like the apotheosis of the fantasy of a precocious, early nineteen-fifties city boy.

“The movie, on which Kubrick collaborated with the British science-fiction author Arthur C. Clarke, is nominally about the finding, in the year 2001, of a camera-shy sentient slab on the moon and an expedition to the planet Jupiter to find whatever sentient being the slab is beaming its communications at.

“There is evidence in the film of Clarke’s belief that men’s minds will ultimately develop to the point where they dissolve in a kind of world mind. There is a subplot in the old science-fiction nightmare of man at terminal odds with his computer. There is one ultimate science-fiction voyage of a man (Keir Dullea) through outer and inner space, through the phases of his own life in time thrown out of phase by some higher intelligence, to his death and rebirth in what looked like an intergalactic embryo.

“But all this is the weakest side of a very complicated, languid movie — in which almost a half-hour passes before the first man appears and the first word is spoken, and an entire hour goes by before the plot even begins to declare itself. Its real energy seem to derive from that bespectacled prodigy reading comic books around the block.

“The whole sensibility is intellectual fifties child: chess games, bodybuilding exercises, beds on the spacecraft that look like camp bunks, other beds that look like Egyptian mummies, Richard Strauss music, time games, Strauss waltzes, Howard Johnson’s, birthday phone calls. In their space uniforms, the voyagers look like Jiminy Crickets. When they want to be let out of the craft they say, ‘Pod bay doors open,’ as one might say ‘Bomb bay doors open’ in every movie out of World War II.

“When the voyagers go off to plot against HAL, the computer, it might be HAL, the camper, they are ganging up on. When HAL is expiring, he sings ‘Daisy.’ Even the problem posed when identical twin computers, previously infallible, disagree is the kind of sentence-that-says-of-itself-I-lie paradox, which — along with the song and the nightmare of ganging up — belong to another age. When the final slab, a combination Prime Mover slab and coffin lid, closes in, it begins to resemble a fifties candy bar.

“The movie is so completely absorbed in its own problems, its use of color and space, its fanatical devotion to science-fiction detail, that it is somewhere between hypnotic and immensely boring. (With intermission, it is three hours long.) Kubrick seems as occupied with the best use of the outer edge of the screen as any painter, and he is particularly fond of simultaneous rotations, revolving, and straight forward motions — the visual equivalent of rubbing the stomach and patting the head.

“All kinds of minor touches are perfectly done: there are carnivorous apes that look real; when they throw their first bone weapon into the air, Kubrick cuts to a spacecraft; the amiable HAL begins most of his sentences with ‘Well,’ and his answer to ‘How’s everything?’ is, naturally, ‘Everything’s under control.’

“There is also a kind of fanaticism about other kinds of authenticity: space travelers look as sickly and exhausted as travelers usually do; they are exposed in space stations to depressing canned music; the viewer is often made to feel that the screen is the window of a spacecraft, and as Kubrick introduces one piece of unfamiliar apparatus after another — a craft that looks, from one angle, like a plumber’s helper with a fist on the end of it, a pod that resembles a limbed washing machine — the viewer is always made aware of exactly how it is used and where he is in it.

“The special effects in the movie — particularly a voyage, either through Dullea’s eye or through the slab and over the surface of Jupiter-Earth and into a period bedroom — are the best I have ever seen; and the number of ways in which the movie conveys visual information (there is very little dialogue) drives it to an outer limit of the visual.

“And yet the uncompromising slowness of the movie makes it hard to sit through without talking — and people on all sides when I saw it were talking almost throughout the film. Very annoying. With all its attention to detail — a kind of reveling in its own I.Q. — the movie acknowledged no obligation to validate its conclusion for those, me for example, who are not science-fiction buffs.

“By the end, three unreconciled plot lines — the slabs, Dullea’s aging, the period bedroom — are simply left there like a Rorschach, with murky implications of theology. This is a long step outside the convention, some extra scripts seem required, and the all-purpose answer, ‘relativity,’ does not really serve unless it can be verbalized.

“The movie opened yesterday at the Capitol.”

The One By The Famously Exacting Director With The Great Script By The Famously Jerky Screenwriter: The Social Network.

The One Where You’re Going Insane Waiting Around For The Crazy Thing To Happen, Then It Happens: 127 Hours.

The Super-Loony One, Holy Shit, Was That Fucking Nutballs Or What?: Black Swan or Inception.

The Sweet-Hearted-But-Poignant Animated One We’re Supposed To Take More Seriously: How To Train Your Dragon. (Many have obviously taken Toy Story 3 quite seriously.)

The One Where The Whole Thing Might Have Been A Dream: Black Swan or Inception?

The One Where The Whole Thing Might Have Been A Hoax: The Town.

The Shattering Little One That Everyone’s Already Forgotten About, Which I’ll Probably Replace With True Grit When I Finally See It: Greenberg, The Ghost Writer.

The One With A Bunch Of Authentic-Feeling Regional Stereotypes: The Fighter

The Other One With A Bunch Of Authentic-Feeling Regional Stereotypes: Blue Valentine.

The One That Kind Of Bombed But I’m Including Anyway Because It Was So Much Fun: Exit Through The Git Shop, Let Me In.

The Foreign One You Didn’t See Yet Because You Never Send Back Your Netflix DVDs: Can’t be Carlos or Biutiful because neither are on Netflix..I give up.

(Descriptions by Mark Lisanti of Lisanti Quaterly.)

“What the hell am I gonna tell ya ’bout what they got against you? Christ, they’re women, aren’t they? You ever listen to women talk, man? Do ya? ‘Cause I do till it’s running outta my ears! I mean I’m on my feet all day long listening to women talk and they only talk about one thing — how some guy fucked ’em over. That’s all that’s on their minds. That’s all I ever hear about! Don’t you know that? Face it, we’re always trying to nail ’em and they don’t like it. They like it and they don’t like it. It’s got nothing to do with you, Lester. It just happened.”

All large-format films of the ’50s and early ’60s (70 mm, VistaVision, Technirama, etc.) need to be remastered for Bluray, so I have no argument against Warner Home Video scheduling a Bluray of Nicholas Ray‘s (’61) King of Kings on 3.29.11. It was shot in Technirama by Manuel Berenguer, Milton R. Krasner and Franz Planer, and “presented in 70mm Super Technirama at selected first-run engagements,” according to the film’s Wiki page. So the detail should be quite nice.

But why? Or rather, why not first put out a much better large-format Biblical-era film that would be more appreciated — i.e., William Wyler ‘s Ben-Hur (59)? King of Kings is a visually handsome thing with certain attributes, but as I wrote in ’08, “so much of this 1961 Samuel Bronston epic is either pompous or tedious, and some of it is painful.”

Example: “The casting of the 37 year-old Siobhan McKenna (37 going on 52) as Mary, mother of Jesus, is ludicrous — a solemn earthy Irish woman straight out of Sean O’Casey and James Joyce with her lined face, alabaster Irish complexion and faintly suppressed Dublin accent.

“There are nonetheless five worthwhile things about this film: (a) Miklos Rosza ‘s score, particularly the overture; (b) Ron Randell‘s fine performance as Lucius, the thoughtful, morally conflicted Centurion; (b) Jeffrey Hunter‘s lead performance during the last third; (d) the shots that show perfect focus in both the foreground and background (which was pretty amazing during a time in which films would commonly rack focus to catch the foreground or background, but never both); and (e) Ray Bradbury‘s eloquently-written narration.

“Rosza sometimes let his costume-epic scores become slightly over-heated, but when orgiastic, big-screen, reach-for-the-heavens emotion was called for, no one did it better. He may have been first and foremost a craftsman, but Rosza really had soul.

“Listen to the overture and main title music of King of Kings, and all kinds of haunting associations and recollections about the life of Yeshua and his New Testament teachings (or at the least, grandiose Hollywood movies about same) start swirling around in your head. And then watch that Nicholas Ray’s stiff, strangely constipated film (which Rosza described in his autobiography as ‘nonsensical Biblical ghoulash’) and it’s obvious that Rosza came closer to capturing the spiritual essence of Christ’s story better than anyone else on the team (Ray, screenwriter Phillip Yordan, producer Samuel Bronston).”

Here’s another piece I did about Ray’s apparent interest in having his male leads wear red garments with white T-shirts.

I also found a Bible Film geek site that quotes from Bernard Eisenschitz‘s Ray biography, to wit:

“A clash between the Ray, Bronston and Yordan seems to have left the film in a mess. At the last minute Ray was told to include the Jewish rebellion action scene three-quarters of the way through the film, and an extra character called David (played by Richard Johnston), was brought in to play a similar role to the finished film’s Judas.

“By then the film was 3 1/2 hours long, and although Ray thought that was necessary, Margaret Booth (head of the editing department) decided to cut out ‘David’ altogether. This resulted in one scene between Barabbas and ‘David’ having to be re-filmed with Judas instead. As a result of these major, last minute changes, any sense of continuity was destroyed, as was the long standing friendship between Ray and Yordan.

“To make things worse, once Ray had left the project, his final scene of Jesus leaving the disciples on a mountain was replaced by the now infamous ‘giant-Jesus making a cross on the beach‘ shot. Worse still, Jeffrey Hunter’s dialogue was re-dubbed in its entirety so that he would have a lower, more serious, voice.

“Given all this internal wrangling, it is hardly surprising that the film falls short of it’s potential. It never really seems to know what kind of film it is. Is it a Roman action epic, or an introspective look at a rebel with a cause?”

2010 was my big Phil Spector Rediscovery year. Last summer I saw Vikram Jayanti‘s The Agony and Ecstasy of Phil Spector, and it put the hook in and turned on the switch. A week or so ago I bought a Spector retrospective set called “Back To Mono.” Here are two of my favorite cuts — Zippity-Doo-Dah and the Ronettes‘ Walking In The Rain . (Here’s a stereo version without the storm clouds.)

Jayanti’s doc was paid the ultimate compliment — imitation — when Barry Levinson, David Mamet and Al Pacino announced intentions on or about 10.8 to make an HBO drama about Spector with Pacino in the title role. ¬†

With four injury/mishaps so far (including last night’s), Spider-Man: Fall Into The Pit has turned into the biggest B’way disaster of all time. Can’t catch a break, can’t turn a profit…eye-filling but fucked. The upside is that it’s become a kind of NASCAR attraction. People are going to see the prepared show, but now there’s the added factor of “will some new calamity happen?”

About 14 months ago I ran a Best of Decade list using the years 2000 to 2009 (although ’09 had another couple of months to go at the time). Here’s another shot at the decade but this time defining it as 2001 to ’10. I’m not saying these films were the “best,” but they do possess, in my mind, the strongest positive after-flow effect. Right now, looking back, this is what the decade feels like to me. And it could change a bit down the road.

I decided this time to also throw in some legendary first-decade stinkers but I didn’t try hard enough to please have at it. Let’s just say in a blanket sense that all Pirates of the Caribbean movies blew chunks — at least we can get that straight. And I’m sure I’ve gotten date or two wrong, and left out many fine and deserving films….sorry.

I’m already sorry I compiled this list because it took too damn long to sort and think through. I’ve decided for now on 80 films as the best of the decade. That’s about right, proportionally-speaking.

Best of 2001: In the Bedroom, Ghost World, Monster’s Ball, Sexy Beast, A Beautiful Mind, The Royal Tenenbaums, Y tu mama tambien (7). Among Worst of 2001: The Majestic, K-PAX, Serendipity, Saving Silverman,

Best of 2002: The Pianist, The Quiet American, Talk To Her, The 25th Hour, Adaptation, City of God, 8 Mile, Bloody Sunday, Bowling for Columbine, The Pianist, Whale Rider, Road to Perdition (12). Worst of 2002: Eddie Murphy‘s I Spy, Ballistic: Ecks vs. Sever, Rollerball, Bad Company, Bubba Ho-Tep, Snow Dogs, The Sweetest Thing.

Best of 2003: American Splendor, Matchstick Men, Open Range, Reversal of Fortune, Touching the Void, Mystic River (6). Worst of 2003: Love Actually, Cheaper by the Dozen, Cold Mountain, Lara Croft Tomb Raider: The Cradle of Life, The Matrix Reloaded, The Matrix Revolutions.

Best of 2004: Sideways, The Incredibles, Collateral, The Motorcycle Diaries, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, The Sea Inside, The Corporation, Z Channel: A Magnificent Obsession, I Heart Huckabees (9). Worst of 2004: Finding Neverland, Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason.

Best of 2005: Brokeback Mountain, Grizzly Man, Capote, The Wedding Crashers, A History of Violence (5). Worst of 2005: Two For The Money, Aeon Flux, Deuce Bigalow: European Gigolo.

Best of 2006: Children of Men, United 93, The Lives of Others, The Departed, Pan’s Labyrinth, Hustle and Flow, Babel, Notes on a Scandal (8). Worst of 2006: Snakes on the Plane, Running With Scissors, RV.

Best of 2007: Zodiac, No Country for Old Men, Control, Michael Clayton, Before The Devil Knows You’re Dead, Four Months, Three Weeks & 2 Days, There Will Be Blood, Things We Lost in the Fire, The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford, The Orphanage (10). Worst of 2007: Balls of Fury, Norbit, Good Luck Chuck, Lions For Lambs, Elizabeth: The Golden Age.

Best of 2008: Che, Man on Wire, The Visitor, WALL*E, Doubt, Three Monkeys, Slumdog Millionaire (7). Worst of 2008: The Hottie & The Nottie, Sex and the City, My Blueberry Nights.

Best of 2009: The Hurt Locker, An Education, Avatar, A Serious Man, Sin Nombre, Up In The Air (6). Worst of 2009: I Love you, Beth Cooper, Love Happens, All About Steve…who cares?

Best of 2010: The Social Network, Black Swan, The Fighter, The King’s Speech, Inception, Let Me In, Blue Valentine, Toy Story 3, 127 Hours, Biutiful (10). Worst of 2010: The Bounty Hunter, Marmaduke, Killers, Flipped, When In Rome, Grown Ups. Most Misunderstood, Under-Valued Comedy of 2010: Hot Tub Time Machine.

23 Gold Derby pundits are now declaring that The Social Network is ahead in the race for Best Picture over The King’s Speech, and that one of the Networkers — this is fairly significant, I think — is former (and very recent) King’s Speech supporter Pete Hammond.

Twelve pundits are now supporting The Social Network while only nine now foresee The King’s Speech pulling ahead in the end.

This really needs to be repeated. Pete Hammond of Deadline.com has abandoned Best Picture support of The King’s Speech! Pete Hammond of Deadline.com has abandoned Best Picture support The King’s Speech! How big of an omen is this? Is it just a matter of time before Dave Karger bails, and then Anne Thompson, etc.? You tell me, but I’m sensing a underground tumble in the Gurus of Gold alignment.

Twenty-one Gold Derby pundits are predicting The Social Network‘s David Fincher to snag the Best Director Oscar. An even greater majority is pushing King’s Speech star Colin Firth for Best Actor, and Black Swan‘s Natalie Portman to edge out Annette Bening for Best Actress. The Fighter‘s Christian Bale is favored for Best Supporting Actor, of course, and Melissa Leo for Best Supporting Actress, etc.

Don’t tell me it wouldn’t feel good to somehow make the Iranian authorities suffer for having today sentenced director Jafar Panahi to six years in jail. They’ve also told him to forget about making films for 20 years. They’re pigs, of course, but I wonder why Panahi didn’t just lam it when he had the chance and move to Paris? Home is where creativity takes you.

Jailed Iranian director Jafar Panahi after winning Berlin’s Silver Bear award in 2006.

Panahi has no choice, of course, but to sneak out of Iran and make films elsewhere once he gets out of jail. Unless, of course, he wants to be a good little citizen and do what the mullahs have told him to do. He’s a 50 year-old filmmaker. He can’t wait until he’s 70 to make another film. Absurd.

A 12.21 Guardian story by Saeed Kamali Dehghan says that Panahi, “an outspoken supporter of Iran’s opposition green movement, was convicted of gathering, colluding and propaganda against the regime, his attorney Farideh Gheyrat told the Iranian state news agency ISNA.

“‘He is therefore sentenced to six years in prison and also he is banned for 20 years from making any films, writing any scripts, travelling abroad and also giving any interviews to the media including foreign and domestic news organizations,” she said. Gheyrat said she would appeal against the conviction.

“Panahi won the Camera d’Or award at the Cannes film festival in 1995 for his debut feature, The White Balloon, and took the Golden Lion prize at Venice for his 2000 drama, The Circle. His other films include Crimson Gold and Offside. He is highly regarded around the world but his films are banned at home.”

Here is Panahi’s Facebook page.