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I wrote from Sundance on 1.26 that “if you remove the first 20 or so minutes, Jay and Mark Duplass‘s Cyrus could be called a mature, somewhat comedic and satisfying handling of an unusual romantic triangle situation. It’s ‘funny’ here and there but mostly it’s just believable, buyable and emotionally even-steven. A truly welcome surprise.

“In the hands of Adam McKay or Shawn Levy or any of the other big-studio whores who are always directing expensive Eloi comedies, Cyrus would have been a Joe Popcorn torture-chamber movie like Stepbrothers, in which Reilly costarred with Will Ferrell.

“It’s something else with the Duplass brothers running the show. It’s quietly absorbing and occasionally hilarious, and made all the better by superb acting.

“But those first 20 or so minutes are very weird. For during this period Cyrus plays like it was directed by McKay or Levy. Reilly behaves so over-the-top needy and neurotic and boorish and lacking in social skills that I was ready to leave. “I really don’t want to hang with this asshole,” I was saying to myself. I was just about to bolt when all of a sudden Reilly hooked up with Tomei, went home with her, fell in love and turned into a different person.

“It plays as if the Duplass brothers suddenly changed their minds about Reilly’s character and decided to go with a much calmer and more emotionally secure vibe.

“It’s almost as if they sat down and said ‘we need to get the animals to see this so let’s make an animal comedy straight out of the Will Ferrell loser file so the Fox Searchlight trailer guys can sell this portion, and then turn around and make Cyrus into a whole ‘nother bird — a movie aimed at a smarter crowd — about 20 or so minutes into the running time.”

The Sundance Grand Jury Awards are generally thought to be meaningless — the political preferences of industry elites. The Sundance Audience Awards, however, are regarded as meaningful indicators of genuine audience favor. Which means that in the case of this year’s U.S. Dramatic Audience Award, the audience is composed of shallow, easily seduced dingbats. Giving it to Josh Radnor‘s happythankyoumoreplease, a thoroughly artificial, Woody Allen-with-a-lobotomy 20something sitcom, affords no other conclusion.

L.A. Times reporters Mark Olsen and Steven Zeitchik have written that upon accepting the award, Radnor, “better known as the star of TV’s How I Met Your Mother, thanked ‘the people at my day job, for giving me time to do this. I come from the fertilizer of network television.'” (Radnor was echoing a remark made earlier in the evening by co-host David Hyde Pierce.)

Two or three days after linking to Stu Van Airsdale‘s 1.18 Movieline critique of Carey Mulligan‘s Best Actress campaign, I got a “what the hell?” e-mail from a friend at Sony Classics. I tried to get into this during Sundance but the screenings and deadlines were overwhelming, as usual.

“We have several weeks of voting after the Oscar nominations are announced,” he said, “so the Best Actress game is not over. It’s not even half-time yet. We were one of the first to send An Education to the complete SAG membership. And consider Capote‘s or Rachel Getting Married‘s release plan at Oscar announcement time. We were roughly at the same place with these films, and with the same odds.

“And look at all the awards Carey has accumulated so far (including her BAFTA Best Actress nom) and consider a scenario in which Sandra Bullock and Meryl Streep split the mainstream Hollywood vote, and Carey wins by getting the rest. Don’t think that couldn’t happen.

“We’re not Carey’s personal p.r. people,” he concluded, “so don’t look for villains at Sony Classics.” (Mulligan’s p.r. rep is Jessica Kolstadt at Wolf-Kasteller.)

I didn’t think I was pointing figures at these guys — not really. I was just linking, for one thing. And all I said boiled down was that Sony Pictures Classics co-chiefs Tom Bernard and Michael Barker are “known to be equitable and hands-offish when it comes to acting-awards campaigns.” In other words, they’re not Weinstein-type blitzkreigers, and that they tend to defer to an actor’s personal publicist. No biggie in that.

I was mainly expressing my disappointment with the fact that so many critics groups had given their Best Actress awards to Streep, and for a relatively minor performance. Does Sandra Bullock have a front-runner position now after the SAG win? Quite possibly. Mulligan will be nominated for Best Actress, of course. She’s received a huge launch from An Education, and the film will continue to benefit when it goes to video. If she doesn’t win, fine. It’s all been to the good.

An apparent Variety insider (or an ex-staffer) named “Jason” has written a tough-minded critique of the venerated trade publication for Paid Content.org. “Change or die” is his basic message. Brutally honest stuff but hard to argue with in sections.

“The fact that Nikki Finke and Sharon Waxman compete at all — reasonably — is simply incredible considering The Wrap has six people in a small office in Santa Monica, Nikki has three people all working virtually from home…but Variety has 100 people. In a high-rise. With insurance. And 401K payments. And travel expenses for many of them…and, well, you get the point.

“This isn’t only an editorial discussion — it’s a business-plan discussion. Can Variety survive as is? Of course it can’t. There’s no revenue stream besides advertising. And it’s cratering. And the staff is big, even after they cut it down…and working in a brick-and-mortar building is EXPENSIVE.

“This really has hit a critical point for Variety, and one problem is that nobody seems to have a plan of reasonable action. I know plenty of people there, and they all say the same thing. Great brand, no leadership. And sure, some are griping because journalists gripe. But don’t they have a decent point?

“What is Variety doing to change the game? What is Variety doing – with its history, access, talent and management – to shake it up? To change everything. This is about MORE than just tomorrow or 2010. This is about years from now.

“It’s not working. The newspaper is thin. The site is a mess. There are some decent things on Variety.com, but nobody’s commenting. Why? And where are all of the links? And where’s the ‘bigness’ to some items? These aren’t minor things that they should be scoffing at. These are real things. Bona fide things to do to change the culture.

“And most importantly, where’s the analysis? Opinion. Edgy columnists. Have you seen the blogs? Where’s the tiger of the bunch? Not just ‘Hey — I like this show.” But rather, meaningful stuff.

“So what’s coming down the pike? What are the changes? It’s 2010, so I assume if there were major changes, they’d already be here, because this deterioration is something that has been going on for years. And I know I’m not privy to the war room planning, so of course, many will scoff at this as, ‘What does this guy know?’

“Variety is a great name. So where is the braintrust to kick everyone’s ass? Where’s the same attitude of the people it covers. The creativity. The work-at-all-hours people. The idea people. And I don’t mean a web redesign.

“And hiring an ex-LA Times staffer whose job, by the way, isn’t to produce copy — is that what they really need right now — another editor? Where’s the new Mike Fleming? The new young columnist? The new hot get? Where are the stars? And hiring a guy from Philadelphia (?) to run the site doesn’t count.

“Have you all sat in a room, looked at each other and said, “This isn’t working…let’s go get us people who can kick ass.” And I don’t mean by typing fast. Or giving orders. Or having good meetings. Or being a nice person. I mean…who can change the game?

“Variety let 30 people go. Mike Fleming left. What more does it take for all of you to say, ‘Jesus…time to stop living back in the heyday of 1982.’ David Begelman isn’t walking through the door anymore. Frank Mancuso doesn’t make movies anymore. These people were your audience during a great time. Now you have a new audience. So how are you appealing to them?

“Bart, Fleming, Adalian, Fritz, Speier, Hammond, Gallo, Frater…these people were talented. And brought a sense of importance to your place. Okay, they were let go…no problem. So go get new giants. Is Leo Wolinsky a giant?

“I’m not naive. I know every paper is going through this. I know it’s hard. I know it’s not an easy fix. So don’t get me wrong. It’s not your fault that it’s happening. But isn’t it your responsibility to do EVERYTHING you can to give your team, your staff and your readers what they deserve? Mainly, a great site with a great look and a great search engine and a great archive and, if you desire, great stuff behind a paywall?

“And speaking of paywalls, I bet everyone at Variety loves the internet. They seem like a prudent, intelligent bunch who obsesses over news and information and details. So if the sites they go to all day long are free, isn’t that proof enough? What do you do when you see a pay-only site? Click away, I am sure.

But most importantly, what are you putting behind it? I know you know that’s the big question. If you put an archive of every film review behind it, cool. If you put Red Carpet photos of every premiere ever, cool. But what are you charging people for that they can’t get somewhere else pretty quickly? Seriously. Nobody over there has an answer to that.

“What’s more frustrating, from what I hear, the management team is the only team who doesn’t use their own experiences to learn. They all read Nikki and 20 other FREE sites every day. Hell — their writers get scooped by them. And they’re making a smart move by going behind a pay-wall?

“And let’s talk about Tim Gray. Funny man. But is he a leader? Is he? The man HATED the internet and everything about it until one year ago when he was made editor…and IN CHARGE of it. Ask anyone. People say he routinely scoffed at the web staff. Respected none of them. He was a guy who pondered Weekly placement and amusing columns…but HATED everything about the web. I ain’t lyin’. Just ask.

“To that point, where does it say that a man who has 30 years experience sitting at a desk and being quippy means he can redefine a newspaper’s entire identity? Why is he better choice than some hot-shot who knows about web architecture? The answer…he’s not. He’s a detriment, not a help. He’s a great columnist. A good lunch date. But in leadership: is funny what matters? They are slowly eroding. Can ‘funny’ give way to some ass-kicking…finally?

“And links — don’t get me started. Why is Variety the only site that hasn’t figured out that links are key? Sharing is caring. Everyone’s good will comes back. So people share…and like to share. But Variety is still in ‘newspaper’ mode: our news…nothing else. How’s that working out for you?

“And about people. I am quite sure everyone loves talking about movies with critic Todd McCarthy. Fun around the water cooler. Intelligent discourse. Great debates. Cool chatter. Makes you feel smart. And I know everyone thinks he is ‘great.’ He’s indeed one of the best ever. For 20 years. But making six figures to say Nine sucks — no matter how smartly — is bad business in 2010.

“I bet you have young people on your web staff who are MORE employable and valuable then Todd McCarthy. Yes, having an important voice matters. He is an important voice. But it doesn’t seem to be paying off. So what’s the plan there? His movie reviews don’t get picked up. None of them seem to anymore. But hey – at least people had a great talk about whether Inglourious Basterds was better than Kill Bill…or whatever.”

Wells interjection: McCarthy is one of the best and brainiest critics in the country, and if he isn’t worth a decent salary at whatever publication then I don’t know what critic would be.

Back to Jason: “But again — it’s not about you but readers,” he continues. “And do they care about 1000-word reviews from the Giffoni film festival? Ask them. Please tell me if I am being unreasonable.

“But I go back to this: Doesn’t anyone there get it? It’s not a newspaper — it’s a website. Just because there are words and headlines, that doesn’t make it the same.

“It’s time for a change. Isn’t it? Variety can’t get past the newspaper mentality. They just can’t, it seems. Where’s the new hire to talk about behind-the-scenes stuff, what it all means. Reactions to hot news. Mike Fleming had 250 comments on Spider-Nan and American Idol at his new home. When he was at Variety, he never had 5 comments. No joke.

“I know you want to praise 3D stories and indie film in Peru. That’s cool and good and interesting and necessary. But while you have interesting and necessary…so many places are kicking their butt. Change — it’s time.”

Whomever and wherever he is, Jason must know he is now a hunted man. Like Walter Pidgeon trudging through the swamp in Fritz Lang‘s Manhunt, he can hear the barking howls of the approaching hounds.

The question about IFC Film’s acquisition of Michael Winterbottom‘s The Killer Inside Me is whether they’ll trim down the beating scenes or run them raw.

And I think we all realize that Roadside Attractions will have its work cut out in selling Debra Granik‘s Winter’s Bone to Joe Popcorn. It’s a highly respectable drama with a strong lead performance by Jennifer Lawrence (who’s way too attractive to be a believable Ozark girl), but if I know anything about what the dumb-asses like to see…

This is one of the most seminal and resounding Republican theme songs ever recorded. It’s certainly an anthem for boomer-aged Republicans who were teenagers in the mid ’60s. The selfish assholes who never really got what was going on back then, I mean. John Boehner was 17 when it hit the airwaves. Rush Limbaugh was 15. Name me another pop song from any decade that expresses Republican thuggery and fuckitude more concisely.

One of the most deeply rooted images of my entire filmgoing life, and I’ve never seen a decent online frame-capture. (This is just a crummy snap off my plasma screen.) If I could find a exact rendering on canvas I’d hang it on my living-room wall.

Last night The Wrap‘s Eric Kohn spoke to the makers of Catfish — Henry Joost and Ariel Schulman — and Ariel’s brother Nev Schulman, who basically “stars.” He ran into the trio at a Park City ice cream shop (presumably Java Cow), and in so doing asked about suspicions that their film may have been partially staged or fabricated. Their collective answer was “nope, not at all, no way” and “we can prove it.”

Catfish guys Nev Schulman, Henry Joost, Ariel Schulman; object of Nev’s interest.

I have a problem with one aspect of Catfish that I didn’t mention during the festival. Before I mention this I should call it a SPOILER.

During the first 60% of Catfish Nev — a smart, confident and attractive 24 year old — falls into an intriguing online flirtation with a 20something lady who lives in Michigan. (Or so she says.) She has a pretty big honker but is otherwise thin and attractive. Their exchanges, as you might expect, become more and more emotional and sensual. Then they become explicitly sexual. And then suddenly things change.

Once this sinks in it’s quite clear that Nev is fairly glum — you could even say forlorn. And for me this didn’t quite calculate.

I asked myself why would a guy in the youthful prime of his life get so attached to and invested in a woman he’s never met, and whom he knows only through a gallery of online photos and a series of increasingly erotic e-mails? Who would be naive enough in this day and age to get emotionally caught up in a relationship so lacking in any semblance of provable reality?

This seemed especially curious for a guy who’s clearly smart and good-looking and creative and whatnot, and living in a city like New York with all kinds of hook-up options. I could imagine Clem Kadiddlehopper falling for this. Or an overweight dweeby type with halitosis getting caught up in an online fantasy because he might not have much going on. But a guy like Nev…? Doesn’t figure.

During the chat Korn asks Nev if Catfish is a cautionary tale for people who use social networks. “For me, it’s really about vulnerability,” he answers. “I didn’t consider myself a vulnerable person before this happened to me, and now I have to reassess how I put myself into the world.”

Avatar will finish first this weekend with an estimated $30 million, which will be nearly double what Mel Gibson‘s second-place Edge of Darkness is expecting to earn (i.e., $16 million) by Sunday night. The reputedly atrocious When in Rome will finish third with a projected $12,300,000.

James Cameron‘s left-wing sci-fi allegory will have something like $594,472,000 in the bag by Sunday night. Domestically, I mean. It will overtake Titanic as the all-time highest domestic grosser sometime before next Friday. I failed to take note due to Sundance rigors that it edged past Titanic‘s worldwide total ($1,843,201,268) on Monday, 1.25.

“We’re all forgotten sooner or later,” Burt Lancaster allegedly once said. “But not films. That’s all the memorial we should need or hope for.”

It hit me as I read this that there’s never a formal announcement that a person of talent and accomplishment has been forgotten or written off. The fact of an actor being “over” tends to slowly leak or drip into collective consciousness. It’s a very gradual, almost imperceptible process, but it tends to kick in because they haven’t made a film of any perceived value in so long that people have mentally crossed them off the list.

People sense this or privately acknowledge it, but no one ever says it. It’s the same thing as when an actor has a terminal illness — it’s considered ungracious to mention in mixed company. And yet there’s always that moment when suddenly everyone knows and accepts the fact that a given actor is all but done, unplugged, out of the game.

Sometimes “over” results from a combination of an actor having chosen poorly to the point that they’ve diminished their brand, or sometimes life itself decides to diminish it without their input or say-so. Sometimes it’s a matter of an actor having enough money to cruise in style for the rest of their lives, so they don’t seem to care as much as they used to. (A meandering life can be intoxicating if you’re loaded.) Sometimes they’ve gone over the age hill and aren’t being offered well-written roles in quality projects any more.

This latter is happening, I fear, to poor Harrison Ford right now. Why else would he make a piece of TV-movie shite like Extraordinary Measures? My heart goes out to him, and I’m hoping that The Dying of the Light, a Paul Schrader-written thriller to be directed by Denmark’s Nicolas Winding Refn (Bronson), will be a rejuvenator.

If you’re Robert Duvall or Eli Wallach or Lancaster or George C. Scott, you’ll keep at it (and in mostly half-decent projects) until you drop. Some actors simply choose to work in anything rather than sit home and wither. What a comedown it was for the great James Stewart when he starred in The Magic of Lassie (’78). And yet acting in a crap film has to be better than doing nothing.

I find it astonishing that millions choose to step away from the grind and the challenge and just chill when they reach a certain age, actors and regular Joes alike. That’s like asking for it. I believe in dying at your desk, or, failing that, keeling over on a street in Paris on your way back from a great dinner with friends. I speak as a son who finds it difficult to control his emotions when he visits his mother in her assisted-living facility.

One immensely comforting thing about writing Hollywood Elsewhere is that I know I’ll never be forced or pressured to write a Hollywood column-equivalent of The Magic of Lassie. I regard HE as the writing-candor equivalent of a combination of The Fog of War, Duck Soup, The Big Sleep, I Heart Huckabees, Kiss Me Deadly, Cinema Paradiso, Wild in the Streets, Point Blank, Sweet Smell of Success, The Harder They Fall, A Serious Man and The American Friend.

It sounds a bit cruel to ask this, but who is more or less over as we speak? That sounds cavalier and insensitive, I realize, and yet people talk this way at industry parties all the time when the mood strikes.

Happy birthday to the great Gene Hackman, who turned 80 today. When I think of my favorite Hackman moment I always default to that heated argument scene with Denzel Washington in Crimson Tide. He’s been retired for five years — hasn’t done anything since ’04’s Welcome to Mooseport. Why would anyone as good as Hackman not want to work? Or at least be open to the right role if it comes along?

Arrived at LaGuardia this evening around 9:30 pm, took the M60 to 125th and Lexington, and then the 4 train down to Union Square, the L train into Brooklyn, etc. It’s Chicago cold out there. The temperature is in the mid teens, but it feels like zero. There’s something about travel that just drains your writing energy.