The Guardian‘s Mark Brown has technically defied an Avatar review embargo by revealing that James Cameron‘s film “does not make you feel sick and it is not a disaster.

“All journalists watching the movie in Fox’s Soho headquarters had to sign a form agreeing not to publish a review or even express a professional opinion online or in print before Monday,” he writes. “So by saying Avatar was really much, much better than expected, that it looked amazing and that the story was gripping – if cheesy in many places – the Guardian is in technical breach of the agreement.

“It is not a breach, however, to report that other journalists leaving the screening were also positive: the terrible film that some had been anticipating had not materialized. It was good.

“There is, though, a certain amount of suspension of disbelief needed when watching Avatar. Cynics might sneer at the plot. The film, set in 2154, revolves around a paraplegic marine assigned to a planet where brutish humans are forcing the natives from their homes to mine a precious mineral, unobtanium, which is the only thing that will keep Earth going.

“To get it they need to blast away an agreeable species called the Na’vi – 12 foot or so blue humanoids with tails and pixie eyes. Sam Worthington as the paraplegic marine pretends to be a Na’vi through avatar technology. At first he’s on the nasty human military side but he falls in love, gains a conscience and so on.

“Perhaps most surprising was the politics. At one stage the deranged general leading the attack, with echoes of George W Bush, declares: ‘Our survival relies on pre-emptive action. We will fight terror, with terror.’ There is more shock and awe in this movie than almost any other.”

This rave Avatar review in London’s The Sun doesn’t sound like the writer (a.k.a., “the Sneak”) is invested in anything other than crude enthusiasm and wanting to encourage those who are hoping that James Cameron can do it again. He may be telling the truth, but his words sound too cheerleader-ish, too eager-beaver.

I am, however, moved by the following passage: “The final battle scene is 20 minutes long and absolutely mind-blowing. The Sneak still recalls sitting in a cinema 12 years ago watching awestruck as Titanic slipped beneath the Atlantic waves. And your critic is sure that, even when he is pushing a Zimmer, he will remember the moment the main spaceship of the baddie corporation goes down in Avatar.

“It is overwhelming, and that is because you are emotionally tied up in the characters and the story.”

Yesterday afternoon L.A. Times/Notes on a Season columnist Pete Hammond took me to task for suggesting that the Academy might want to backhand Precious costar Mo’Nique for having said on her BET talk show that (a) she doesn’t understand why she needs to roll up her sleeves and campaign for a Best Supporting Actress Oscar nomination and (b) saying “what’s in it for me money-wise?”

Hammond says that Mo’Nique’s alleged “money demands for appearances related to a campaign are quite frankly old (non)news.” He means that Hollywood Reporter columnist Roger Friedman‘s report that “one source close to the production insists that Mo’Nique asked for $100,000 at one point to show up [at an event] with the rest of the cast” was posted last September.

And yet Mo’Nique did say to guests Terrence Howard and Taraji P. Henson on her talk show last month, “Now let me ask y’all this, because I know y’all are gonna school me correctly: What does it mean financially?” Surely Hammond hasn’t misunderstood what this question indicates.

I understand Hammond’s point about how you don’t have to campaign if you’ve really got the goods. Roman Polanski had the moralistic haters against him and didn’t say “boo” when The Pianist was in contention, and he still won the Best Director Oscar. But you do have to campaign if you have major negatives against you, as Russell Crowe did at the beginning of the Gladiator campaign, and as Mo’Nique clearly does now.

And it’s not just me saying this. Indiewire‘s Anne Thompson recently wrote that “Lionsgate has [an] issue” to deal with in its Precious campaign, which is the fact that Mo’Nique “is a piece of work.”

I’ll admit it — I’d love to see Mo’Nique not get nominated. I feel that her Mary character in Precious is so phenomenally despicable that it constitutes a special case — the mushroom-cloud atmosphere generated by her daughter-abuse in Lee Daniels‘ film is so toxic that it should, I feel, override the fact that Mo’Nique delivers a very strong performance. Call it a moralistic community statement warranted by special circumstances.

But I’m not trying to do a takedown campaign on Mo’Nique. Really. She’s clearly going to be nominated. But in a fair and just world (and in a politically realistic one as far as Hollywood is concerned), Mo’Nique shouldn’t win, and she if you ask me she most likely won’t.

After catching Jacques Audiard‘s A Prophet I ambled over to the Museum of Modern Art last night for Universal’s big It’s Complicated party. There was the usual trouble at the door (the security apes were even challenging Peggy Siegal, who had handled the celebrity invitations) but I was eventually waved in by Universal marketing big-shot Michael Moses. Once inside I was enveloped by sublime climatorial comfort and spiritual calm — a murmuring, beautifully lighted, abundantly catered heaven filled with the best or most talented or hungriest people in town, and everyone in a serene and approachable mood.

Last night’s It’s Complicated party at Museum of Modern Art.

The stars were there, of course — Meryl Streep, Steve Martin, Alec Baldwin, Mary Kay Place. Everyone else was hovering and/or scheming to get closer, trying for a word or two, a moment’s grace, a touch of their garment. I didn’t see director Nancy Meyers but It’s Complicated producer Scott Rudin was there; ditto Universal honcho Ron Meyer. Tina Fey was in the hot-table area with husband Jeff Richmond. Barry Levinson was hanging around. And the food was delicious — roast beef, mashed potatoes, magnificent salads, pleasant wine — and plentiful as hell with several fully-staffed serving areas.

Columnists George Rush and Roger Friedman were looking for quotes, of course. It seemed from a distance as if Baldwin — obviously in good spirits but visibly sweating and clearly in need of a diet re-think and some daily treadmill time — wasn’t all that responsive to their conversation starters. I wasn’t feeling all that socially aggressive so I just wandered around and scanned the room. An instinct told me not to snap photos.

There were some other famous faces milling about. I chatted briefly with Oliver Stone (he asked what I thought of It’s Complcated, and told me he’s finished with Wall Street 2 and involved in a fast-and-furious edit). I also said hello to director-writer Paul Schrader, and talked at length with screenwriter Stephen Schiff and fiance Lois Cahall.

I sometimes…okay, frequently let go with nervy opinions, like that statement I made yesterday morning about how “mainstream Eloi tend to avoid [films] that look even slightly challenging — the movie with the brightest and most colorful wrapper with the plainest design tends to win.” It’s fairly obvious that the Eloi like emotionally simplistic, high-visual-energy movies because they’re lazy (i.e., ADD, not educated enough, narrow cultural influences), but you still feel slightly vulnerable when you write stuff like this because of…I don’t know but the sense of alone-ness that comes with the gig is part of it.

“Avatar looks like something you might have to get used to on some level,” I explained. “It seems rich and dense, like a realm you might need to explore and maybe study a little bit to fully enjoy. That’s not an Eloi magnet factor. They like fast-food movies that they can wolf down right out of the wrapper– no thought, no nothing, just ketchup. They can see that Avatar is no easy-lay Roland Emmerich film. They can tell it’s a sit-down meal.”

But occasionally someone else will come along and say something very similar, and it feels good. Last night around 9 pm Lauren A.E. Schuker, a writer for the Wall Street Journal‘s “Speakeasy” section, wrote that Avatar‘s original plot “presents a challenge to audiences inured to sequels, prequels, and films based on pre-fabricated properties, such as Transformers, Twilight and the coming Sherlock Holmes, starring Robert Downey, Jr.”

The main thrust of Schuker’s piece was a report that Steven Spielberg saw Avatar on the Los Angeles Fox lot last Friday and that “he flipped for it,” according to “a person close to the acclaimed director.” It’s entirely possible that a lot of people are going to flip for Cameron’s film, starting with tonight’s press screenings in London, New York and Los Angeles, but c’mon….what’s Spielberg going to say, given the brotherly rapport he naturally feels with Cameron and given the kind of films he likes to make?

And The Winner Is blogger Scott Feinberg has come up with a brilliant analysis of several high-profile Oscar contending performances by way of listing previous award-showered performances that closely echo their own. Without further ado…naah, screw it. I was going to paste portions of it here but it’s too much work to reformat. Just read what Scott has composed.

Audrey Hepburn, Carey Mulligan

A few hours ago In Contention‘s Kris Tapley sat down with Crazy Heart director Scott Cooper and producer-costar Robert Duvall, and during their chat Duvall said the following: “The Hurt Locker might be the best film I’ve seen in a decade.”

In a just-posted interview with A Single Man director Tom Ford, HuffPost associate entertainment editor Katy Hall reports that Colin Firth learns of his lover’s death from a family member “voiced by Jon Hamm in a winking nod to his 1960s alter ego, Don Draper.”

My honest-to-God first reaction to this latest Avatar poster was that the Na’vi looks like Michael Jackson during the Thriller period. I can see a lock of hair dropping down that reminds me his mid ’80s coif. If Jackson had made a music video about a dancing alien cat man and wore cat-eye contacts, this is exactly how he’d look. I look at that face and I really don’t see Zoe Saldana — I see a gay cat boy.

There’s a 50th anniversary screening in Santa Monica this evening of Stanley Kramer‘s On The Beach, an end-of-the-world drama with Gregory Peck, Ava Garner, Anthony Perkins, Fred Astaire, etc. It seems a little too reserved by today’s standards but it holds up half-decently, especially those submarine-visit scenes to the tomb cities of San Diego and San Francisco. A little on-the-nose (“There’s still time, brother”) but subliminally moving. Exquisite black-and-white photography by Giuseppe Rotunno (The Leopard, Fellini Satyricon, Amarcord).

A mildly amusing mutual masturbation chat between Sherlock Holmes director Guy Ritchie and star Robert Downey, Jr. appears in this Sunday’s L.A. Times magazine. Note: Mentioning that you’re well paid or loaded or anything along these lines makes you sound shallow. And recalling your Hemingway-esque response to a cut lip sounds like macho boasting — sorry.

Sherlock Holmes star Robert Downey, Jr.

Ritchie: “You really got your hands dirty on this shoot. In fact, you got punched in the mouth — seven stitches. And you didn’t fuckin’ cry like a baby. You just spat a bit and carried on. That was a shift in my attitude toward you, too. I thought, Okay, that changed the paradigm. Because you get paid a lot of money. I get paid a lot of money. And we’re indulged with the things we’re indulged with. From my point of view, we have the best jobs in the world, and I suspect you think so, too.

Downey: “I love it. But what did I do when I got that big cut? I just hoped it was deep enough that it was going to need enough stitches to get your approval. I was nowhere near the cosmos for about 12 seconds. Then I think I peeled my lip inside out, and I was so happy to hear you say, ‘That was the best fight.'”

Ritchie: “I was happy to be the guy who said, ‘Oh, that needs stitches,’ because usually I’m the guy who’s like, ‘Oh, fuckin’ stitches–don’t worry about it.’

Downey: “We needed to finish whatever we were doing. I wish I had bled more, to tell you the truth, but that might have alarmed other folks. It was kind of a coming of age for me — thinking of being not 22 but 44. But I very well remember going to the hospital.”

The awkward/dull parts were trimmed out by Sam Donelly; the photos are by Sam Jones.