The death of Christopher Hitchens, the barbed and brilliant essayist and anti-religionist and enjoyer of drink and tobacco, was announced last night. Hitchens’ departure point was the M.D. Anderson Cancer Center in Houston after an 18-month bout with esophegal cancer. He was 62.

“You can tell a man who boozes by the company he chooses…”

Hitchens was a militant atheist, renowned in part for having declared that “the real axis of evil is Christianity, Judaism, and Islam.” He despised Henry Kissinger and Bill Clinton and the Tea Party and ignoramuses of all creeds and persuasions, but he also really, really didn’t believe in any sort of soul travel at the moment of expiration.

Now, apart from having finally escaped from the long, agonizing downswirl and diminishment of the last year and a half, he knows the truth of it. Apart from a final and absolute shutting down of all circuits, Hitchens now knows (or knew, at least, for an instant as he gave it up) whether some form or sense of cosmic ecstasy and spiritual transference comes with death, or he now knows (or knew during that same instant) that dying really is nothing more than the flatlining of everything, including the slightest thread or dream of the eternal.

I ran into Hitchens twice — the first time just before at a New York Film Festival panel discussion in late September 2001 called “Making Movies That Matter: The Role of Film in the National Debate” (my account of which I reprinted in an April 2006 article) and the second time in a 59th Street hotel three or four years ago. He was a bit gruff and tart both times, but that’s where great minds tend to go when they’re not lifting themselves and the level of conversation off the ground.

I’m glad, at least, that his pain has come to an end, and that whatever serenity-by-way-of-finality death provides, he has it now. I’m especially glad and grateful that Hitchens was around and punctuating the conversation as long and perceptively and excitingly as he did.

“The word ‘serious’ typifies the intellectual arrogance of elite media publications,” CityArts‘ Armond White writes in a 12.14 post. “‘Serious’ now replaces what journalists in the ’80s more honestly — cravenly — termed ‘sexy.’ In aesthetic terms, the Dragon Tattoo remake is no more ‘serious’ than Cars 2 (and less enjoyable).

“What journalists now consider ‘sexy’ is getting as close to the film industry process as possible — as in seeking to influence the Academy Awards race and angling for quotes in ads which, essentially, was the essence of [David] Denby‘s advance rave.

“His opening line, ‘You can’t take your eyes off Rooney Mara,’ shamelessly uses adspeak to convey pop enthusiasm. But Denby’s imitative Pauline Kaelism is unconvincing; by suspiciously elevating the undistinguished Mara (scion of the New York Giants and Pittsburgh Steelers fortunes), Denby conforms to the same class flattery that was so egregious in last year’s critics’ celebration of The Social Network.”

The Artist, The Help, The Artist, The Help, The Artist, The Help, The Artist, The Help, The Artist, The Help, The Artist, The Help, The Artist, The Help, The Artist, The Help, The Artist, The Help, The Artist, The Help,The Artist, The Help, The Artist, The Help,The Artist, The Help, The Artist, The Help, etc.

These and War Horse and another I could mention are basically CHILDREN’S MOVIES. Simple tales, simple strategies, dark forces vanquished, etc. What is wrong with many of the critics out there and most SAG members, etc.? Do they need emotional assurances and hugs and shiatsu massages this badly? Are their own lives really that unfulfilled and/or bereft?

The GoGo in-flight wifi that I paid $12 bucks for sucks so I can’t really watch this, but right off the top I have a problem with the title “Cinematic Joy,” and especially if the editor is a guy named “MrBenZuk.”

Wait…the wifi is working better now. I’ve seen about 55 seconds worth. The best year-end montages express interior stuff — themes, moods, unspoken things. Mmmm…I’m not sure Zukky is after that.

There are so many things in Asghar Farhadi‘s A Separation that attract admiration or delight, but one of my favorite parts is the finale. I’m not giving anything away by saying it doesn’t end with a definitive answer but a question, and particularly with a choice not yet made. For me it’s nothing short of brilliant. The audience that I saw A Separation with in Telluride was clearly delighted. I’m trying to think of an American film that has played its cards this way.

A Separation director Asghar Farhadi — Tuesday, 12.13, 4:40 pm at Beverly Wilshire hotel.

TheWrap‘s Steve Pond has suggested that Golden Globes emcee Ricky Gervais could make a joke or two about Angelina Jolie‘s In The Land of Blood and Honey being nominated for a Best Foreign-Language Film GG nominee because the HFPA just wants her to attend, etc. I honestly don’t think there’s a joke there. Jolie’s film is entirely solid and 100% respectable. Jolie could be fat and homely and unmarried and it still could have been nominated.

Our LAX-to-JFK Virgin flight just passed over Republican City, Nebraska. Is there a town in Oregon or Northern California called “Liberal Corners” or “Leftyville”?

Somewhere over New Mexico about 30 or 40 minutes ago.

The guy in front of me has a little extra leg room because he’s sitting right behind the plastic, blue-tinted panel that divides first class from coach, so he’s doing pretty well. But with that extra comfort he just had to go for a little more and lean his seat back, right into my 18 inches of private space and my 13″ Macbook Pro. Uhm…Fred? I’m trying to work here and it’s pretty tight as it is without you being a thoughtless dick about it. Okay, thanks…much appreciated. He doesn’t know how lucky he is. If he hadn’t complied I would done the old accidental-spillage-of-Coke-on-his-head routine.

Drive‘s awards consultant on the “seemingly monumental oversight” that resulted in Albert Brooks not being included among SAG’s the Best Supporting Actor nominees, by way of Movieline‘s (and more particularly Oscar Index’s) Stu Van Airsdale: “Thank you for all of your shout-outs to Albert Brooks on Twitter and in your analyses of the SAG nominations in regards to his not being recognized today. We remain confident that the Supporting Actor race still boils down to a two-man showdown between Albert and Christopher Plummer.” In other words, calm the fuck down.

Update: This isn’t working. The Globe producers took forever to finally get started and the cab for my flight is waiting outside. But the most nominated contender is apparently George Clooney with multiple Ides of March noms on top of his expected Best Actor nom for The Descedants.

The Ides elbow apparently resulted in the Best Motion Picture, Drama nom tally rising to six instead of the usual five. The six are The Ides of March, The Descendants, War Horse, Moneyball, The Help and Hugo.

And I’m pretty sure I heard Rooney Mara‘s name mentioned this morning.

My Virgin flight leaves at 7:40 am and arrives at JFK…something like 4 pm or thereabouts. Wifi all the way plus a viewing of Margaret.

This Fandor video — produced, written and cut by Kevin B. Lee — explores a persistent Steven Spielberg signature that has been used, over and over and over, for close to 40 years. For me it provides an understanding of a kind of hacksmanship. I fell in love with Spielberg’s awe-face when I first saw Close Encounters in ’77 — we all did — but after a decade or two I got sick of it. Haven’t we all by now? No, argues Lee — “Spielberg face” is our own.

Note to chronic complainers: Lee’s video was uploaded yesterday and I thought it was worth kicking around…that’s all.