What Tennessee Williams plays and film adaptations didn’t feature a handsome (or pretty) young Southern-studcat figure in a prominent role? I’m thinking, I’m thinking. Night of the Iguana, of course. The 1961 film of Summer and Smoke only had Laurence Harvey so that too was an exception. Boom, Last of the Mobile Hot Shots…what others?

In Jodie Markell‘s Loss of a Teardrop Diamond (Paladin, 12.30), the object of desire is played by 28 year-old Chris Evans.

It’s hard to define what makes an appealing movie poster, but the one for Michael Tucker and Petra Epperlein‘s How To Fold A Flag just “does it right” on some level. One look and I said to myself, “I want to see this.” It makes what is clearly a left-humanist portrait of Iraq War veterans seem very plain and true and backyard American. Who’s the artist or agency, I wonder?

“With How to Fold a Flag, a diffuse yet fascinating account of four U.S. Army vets readjusting to civilian life, documakers Michael Tucker and Petra Epperlein continue their sympathetic, insightful examination of individuals involved — as soldiers or civilians, willingly or otherwise — in the Iraq War,” Variety‘s Joe Leydon wrote from Toronto last September.

How to Fold a Flag: in theaters 2010 from Nomados Film on Vimeo.

“Unlike The Prisoner or: How I Planned to Kill Tony Blair or Bulletproof Salesman Tucker and Epperlein’s latest effort comes across as a kind of sequel to their 2004 debut feature, “Gunner Palace, which focused on soldiers of the 2/3 Field Artillery unit assigned to one of the volatile areas in post-Saddam Baghdad.

“Pic does suggest that each of its subjects will survive, and maybe even thrive, as they continue to distance themselves from what they did, and what was done to them, in Iraq. But for some of them, full recovery is a distant, albeit attainable, goal.”

In the same way that one formerly Democratic U.S. Senator (Connecticut’s Joseph Leiberman) and two conservative Democratic Senators (Louisiana’s Mary Landrieu and Arkansas’ Blanche Lincoln) have stubbornly pledged to kill the public-option portion of the health care bill in defiance of common sense and against the wishes of almost everyone, I was the only Envelope Gold Derby Buzzmeter pundit to say “no” to Precious as a Best Picture finalist. In so doing I singlehandedly kept it out of the unanimous column.

I voted as I did not because Precious won’t be Best Picture nominated — of course it will — but because portions of it are so ugly and unpleasant and horrific to sit through that they literally made me convulse. Someone had to stand up and at least symbolically say no. To me the Precious crimes — i.e., the ones committed by Mo’Nique in the context of the film — are not relatable aspects of the human condition. They are so malignant that it’s very hard for me to nod and go “fine, good, well done” even within the remove of dramatic depiction.

I didn’t vote as I did because Precious isn’t a powerfully-acted film that’s finally about caring and compassion — it is that, at least in the third act — but because I feel that a depiction of parenting this cruel and sadistic and beyond-the-pale deplorable — in effect a slow murder of a child by her own mother — must be responded to with an initial vote that says “uhhm, well, okay, it’s a good film and I realize that Dave Karger and all the others are right…but not now.”

Here’s a summary of the yesterday’s L.A. Times/Envelope Gold Derby Buzzmeter poll results, which will be refined and updated as things move along.

The only two unanimous choices for Best Picture (i.e., chosen by all 20 pundits) are Up In The Air and The Hurt Locker. The other big-vote getters are Precious, Invictus, Nine, Up, An Education, Inglourious Basterds and A Serious Man.

Again….where is A Serious Man? You’d think that critics and pundits, at least, would understand that (a) now (i.e., mid November to early December) is the time to mix tea-leaf predictions with convictions and persuasions of their own, (b) a lack of soothing emotionality (and a chilly, analytical or even clinical vibe in place of same) is sometimes a hallmark of great, world-class filmmaking and (c) the fact that A Serious Man is ruthlessly brilliant and hilarious and honed like an effin’ diamond…you’d think that critics and pundits might recognize this fact and, you know, have it count for something in their calculations? No?

The leading Best Actor contender is A Single Man‘s Colin Firth, followed by Up In The Air‘s George Clooney, Invictus‘s Morgan Freeman, Nine‘s Daniel Day-Lewis, Crazy Heart‘s Jeff Bridges and The Road‘s Viggo Mortensen,

And in the Best Actress, An Education‘s Carey Mulligan is in the lead, but only a notch ahead of Precious star Gabby Sidibe. Next comes Julia & Julia‘s Meryl Streep, The Last Station‘s Helen Mirren and Bright Star‘s Abby Cornish.

“Peter Jackson‘s infatuation with fancy visual effects mortally wounds The Lovely Bones,” writes Daily Variety senior critic Todd McCarthy in what may be the first cut in an onslaught of critical knives. Do howlings winds and heaving seas approach?

Lovely Bones director Peter Jackson

“Alice Sebold‘s cheerily melancholy bestseller, centered upon a 14-year-old girl who narrates the story from heaven after having been brutally murdered, provides almost ready-made bigscreen material. But Jackson undermines solid work from a good cast with show-offy celestial evocations that severely disrupt the emotional connections with the characters.

“The book’s rep, the names of Jackson and exec producer Steven Spielberg, and a mighty year-end push by Paramount/DreamWorks will likely put this over with the public to a substantial extent, but it still rates as a significant artistic disappointment.

“There has been cautious optimism among longtime Jackson followers that this material might inspire him to create a worthy companion piece to his 1994 Heavenly Creatures, which similarly involves teenagers and murder in an otherwise tranquil setting and remains far and away his best film.

“The potential was certainly there in the book, which reminds of Dennis Lehane‘s successfully filmed novels Mystic River and Gone Baby Gone in its devastating emotional trauma, but offers the distinctive perspective of the most entirely plausible omniscient narrator in modern literature.

“Unfortunately, the massive success Jackson has enjoyed in the intervening years with his CGI-heavy The Lord of the Rings saga (the source of which receives fleeting homage in a bookstore scene here) and King Kong has infected the way he approaches this far more intimate tale. Instead of having the late Susie Salmon occupy a little perch in an abstract heavenly gazebo from which she can peer down upon her family and anyone else — all that is really necessary from a narrative point of view — the director has indulged his whims to create constantly shifting backdrops depicting an afterlife evocative of The Sound of Music or The Wizard of Oz one moment, The Little Prince or Teletubbies the next.

“It’s a shame, because the first half-hour or so suggests that Jackson, had he taken a vow to keep it real and use not a single visual effect, still has it in him to relate a human story in a direct, vibrant manner.”

“When it sticks to the everyday neighborhood inhabited by its characters, The Lovely Bones, which was shot on Pennsylvania locations and in New Zealand studios, finds a reasonable equilibrium between drama and production values. When it ventures beyond it, heaven turns into Hades.”

The Scott Foundas slot at the L.A. Weekly/Village Voice has to be filled, of course. Usually the person doing the hiring for such a position will put the word out through the right people and then sift through 15 or 20 resumes and suss things out privately — but not this time. Or maybe there’s an equal opportunity requirement that Village Voice Media needs to make a show (emphasis on that word) of opening the door to any and all applicants.

The following is listed in JournalismJobs.com: “The L.A. Weekly is looking for a film critic/editor. Candidate must have deep knowledge and appreciation of contemporary film and film history, both international and Hollywood. Must write and edit extremely well in formats ranging from short and full reviews to interviews to longer reported features. Essential duties include planning and managing the Weekly‘s film section, including special issues; assigning freelancers; occasional blogging.

“Editor will also coordinate coverage with Village Voice Media for publication of content in 14 newspapers and websites. Ideal candidates will be able to represent the Weekly and VVM at public screenings and other film events, as well as on radio and television. Interested parties should send resume, cover letter and clips to: LAfilmcritic@villagevoicemedia.com.”

Just as it can be argued that I tend to approach any Peter Jackson film with a guarded attitude (which really isn’t directed against Jackson as much as any director who incessantly underlines, over-emphasizes and over-cranks the visual razmatazz element as a way of beating his/her chest and saying “look at brilliant me!…look at what I can do!”), it can also be argued or at least suspected that AICN’s Harry Knowles is in the tank for Jackson, and has been there for many, many years.

Knowles has called The Lovely Bones an “incredibly lovely film.” He later says it “will be one of the films of the year,” adding that “some of Peter’s choices in adaptation could very well be hotly debated amongst readers of the book.” He also calls it “an incredibly powerful film, masterfully told and captured as only cinema in the hands of a consummate storyteller can tell it.”

High praise indeed. Harry clearly liked, admired, was touched. And yet I sense a certain caution in the choice of the word “lovely.” I know that on those rare occasions when I see a film that has really knocked me down and turned me around, the word “lovely” never comes to mind. Calling a film ‘lovely” is like saying the girl you went on a blind date last night with has “a terrific personality.”

A little man inside Harry’s chest is telling him, “Go for it, man…you were touched by the film and you should say that. Definitely. Just don’t….well, you know what I mean. Don’t write a full-bodied ecstatic cartwheel rolling-orgasm flutter rave. Save that shit for when you’re feeling it 110% on something really and truly over-the-mountain awesome. We love Peter and Bones is so touching and sad…it is, really…but just, you know, keep things in proportion.”

In a review posted sometime earlier today called “Is It Possible To Hate A Film More Than Old Dogs?,” HitFix’s Drew McWeeny begins by saying “if Old Dogs were a person, I would stab it in the face.” That’s pretty good but it would have been better if he’d mentioned the weapon. As in “stab it in the face with a sharp No. 2 pencil” or “stab it in the face with an Exacto knife.”

The worst comedies, I can tell you, always resort to fear-of-nature gags. Movies that cater to or fan this mindset, like the above Old Dogs trailer clearly does, are beyond deplorable.

The idea is that nature will prey on you, kill you, peck you, drown you, piss on you, beat you to death, etc. This, I suspect, is what the average Eloi or middle-aged mall dweller is afraid of, and why a lot of them think global warming isn’t such a bad thing (or at least isn’t something to get too upset over) because who cares if those scary-ass predators have it tough out in the wild? Fuck ’em. We’re doin’ just fine in our sanitized, air-conditioned comfort zone, where nature can’t touch us.

“Millions of years from now,.” McWeeny begins, “after Western Civilization has fallen and the Earth has ruptured and cooled and been reborn and a new life form has taken over the planet, if any of them happen to stumble upon a working DVD player and a copy of Old Dogs,, they will sum up the passing of our culture with two simple words: ‘Good riddance.’

“It is rare that I hate a film with the feverish intensity that I feel towards this one, but it hit pretty much every single button for me, and by halfway through, I felt like I was going to crawl out of my skin.

“What I thought was going to be a mediocre family-themed comedy instead struck me as one of the most singularly vile experiences I’ve had in a theater all year.

“To give you an idea how wretched the film is, if you take the worst Robin Williams film, multiply it by the worst John Travolta film, and then multiply that by Wild Hogs, the last film from director Walt Becker, you would still end up with something better than this.

“Old Dogs is the story of two ostensible adult human beings who, confronted with spending 14 days in the presence of twin seven-year-olds, promptly go insane and begin acting in a manner which would land any person in the real world in jail or the morgue. Deservedly. Nothing in this film resembles any recognizable behavior of any actual person ever.

“At one point, Bernie Mac shows up as a puppeteer who literally wires Robin Williams up with a magical bio-rig that transforms him into…and I quote…a ‘human puppet’ who is controlled via remote by John Travolta so that Williams can have a tea party with his daughter. And although I was sliding in and out of consciousness by this point, numb from the horror, I’m almost positive a Motown song plays over the resulting montage.

“And that is not the worst scene in the film.”

Avatar director James Cameron talking to CNN’s Jason Carroll, in part about whether Avatar is going to get the same kind of repeat business that Titanic attracted. And whether the blog critics who’ve been slamming “the blue characters” have instilled any concern. “If everyone was praising the film too much, that would make me even more nervous,” Cameron replies.

The Reel Geezers — those reliable indicators of smart retirement-age Academy sentiments about current films — are back in action on Indiewire. And as you might expect, they’ve totally rolled over for Precious. Like cocker spaniel puppies with their tongues and tails wagging. The screenplay is “superb,” says Marcia Nasatir, and Lorenzo Semple, Jr. agrees. (God!) This is why Precious is going to be Best Picture nominated — i.e., people and opinions like these.

“Not the usual ‘hood movie, no men in it…no violence,” says Semple. What? Precious is one of the most emotionally violent films I’ve ever seen — that anyone’s ever seen. For me, what happens between Mo’Nique and Gabby in that film is the emotional equivalent of that baseball-bat execution scene in Casino.

“The two social workers and a teacher are almost too good,” Semple continues. “How do you pronounce Mariah Carey‘s name? And then there’s the brilliant, brilliant Mo’Nique…not since Joan Crawford …she is a bad mom.”

“A monster mom,” Nasatir echoes. “And then comes the scene when she explains herself, and I found myself literally gasping at this information.”

Gasping at what exactly? At the notion that director Lee Daniels may be expecting audiences to extend a measure of sympathy to Mo’Nique’s character because of her pathetic “what about me?” explanation? Or that there are actually mothers out there who are capable of treating their daughters this way?

There are two questions that the Geezers never raise or answer. Would they go to see Precious a second time? And if so, why?

Nasatir then says, “They also show a clip from Two Women, the marvellous Anna Magnani movie.” She’s confusing Two Women, a 1960 Vittorio DeSica film, with Rossellini’s Open City (’45). Two Women costarred Sophia Loren, Jean-Paul Belmondo, Eleonora Brown and Raf Vallone.

If anyone has a copy of The Descendants, the Nat Faxon-Jim Rash screenplay that Alexander Payne will begin directing early next year with George Clooney in the lead role, please send along. This Hawaiian-based adaptation of the ’07 Kaui Hart Hemmings novel will be released in 2011 by Fox Searchlight.

(l. to r.) Alexander Payne, cover of The Descendants, Kaui Hart Hemmings, George Clooney.

The plot summaries I’ve read on movie sites made no sense so I’ve pasted two — one from Publisher’s Weekly, another from The New Yorker — from the book’s Amazon page.

(From Publishers Weekly): “Hemmings’ bittersweet debut novel stars besieged and wryly introspective attorney Matt King (Clooney), the land-rich descendant of Hawaiian royalty and American missionaries and entrepreneurs. He wrestles with the decision of whether to keep his swath of valuable inherited land or sell it to a real estate developer. But even more critical, Matt also has to decide whether to pull the plug on his wife, Joanie, who has been in an irreversible coma for 23 days following a boat-racing accident.

“Then Matt finds out that Joanie was having an affair with real estate broker Brian Speer, impelling him to travel with his two daughters — precocious 10-year-old Scottie and fresh-from-rehab 17-year-old Alex — from Oahu to Kauai to confront Brian. Matt finds out the truth about Joanie and Brian, which influences his decision about what to do with his family’s on-the-block land and complicates his plans for Joanie. Matt’s journey with his girls forms the emotional core of this sharply observed, frequently hilarious and intermittently heartbreaking look at a well-meaning but confused father trying to hold together his unconventional family.”

(From The New Yorker): “The narrator of this audaciously comic debut novel, the scion of the last Hawaiian landowning clan, has floated through his privileged life: marriage to a model given to ‘speedboats, motorcycles, alcoholism’; children getting into trouble (cocaine, bullying) at elite schools; membership at a century-old beach club that rejects those with ‘unfavorable pedigrees.’

“But when a catamaran accident leaves his wife in a coma he must wake from his own ‘prolonged unconsciousness,’ reacquaint himself with his neglected daughters, and track down his wife’s lover. Meanwhile, his cousins are urging him to sell the family’s vast landholdings for development — to relinquish, in his eyes, the final vestige of their native Hawaiian ancestry. Hemmings channels the voice of her befuddled middle-aged hero with virtuosity, as he teeters between acerbic and sentimental, scoffing at himself even as he grasps for redemption.”

Straight out of serious Clooney/Oscar-bait handbook. Matt King is the brother of Ryan whatsisname, the flyaway guy Clooney plays in Up In The Air.