“If you’re looking for definitive proof of how our culture (and particularly our film culture) is steadily devolving and dumbing itself down, check out the Ben Lyons-Ben Mankiewicz version of At The Movies, which premiered a few days ago. This is not a TV show about how good or bad the latest movies are. It’s a show about the End of Civilization as some of us have known it. If the Eloi of George Pal‘s The Time Machine were to produce their own movie-review show, this is how it would play.” — originally posted on 9.16.08 in a piece called “Forget These Guys,” and re-posted to contribute to the current pile-on, as evidenced by today’s riff by Mark Graham of New York/Vulture.

Two weeks ago I met Revolutionary Road costar Michael Shannon, whose brief but quite breathtaking performance in that film ought to win him the Best Supporting Actor Oscar. It happened in Tribeca. I was told by his publicist that photography couldn’t happen, and then we sat down in a restaurant that was too noisy for the recording of our chat to be of any value.

Michael Shannon, snapped at a Revolutionary Road party last month at 21.

Not having anything to work with prompted a bit of a delay in writing this piece, but at least I’ve gotten around to it. It certainly wasn’t for a lack of enthusiasm or fascination with Shannon, who’s a very intriguing piece of work.

I’m a bit angry that none of the critics groups or kiss-ass groups (BFCA, HFPA, NBR) have given Shannon a Best Supporting Actor award or nomination. He’s totally brilliant and hilarious as the nutjob mathematician who spells out exactly (if uncomfortably) what’s going on between the film’s unhappy married couple, Frank and April Wheeler, portrayed by the excellent Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet.

Shannon’s Road turn registers in nearly the same way that Heath Ledger ‘s does in The Dark Knight, as both give portrayals of truth-telling loons. The difference is that Shannon, playing a period character, is quieter, more concentrated and buttoned-down. And of course, far less showy. But no less bull’s eye.

Shannon is a very cool, free-thinking fellow. My son Jett (who sat with us) liked him alot but thought his eyes looked a bit scary. Naaah, I said — more like the eyes of a 16 year-old kid who’s very bright and perceptive but isn’t 100% sure who he is or what he’s up against. A guy who doesn’t have it all worked out but is open about that, which is a very good thing from the perspective of a watcher or listener.

For me Shannon is a cross between ’50s poet-adventurer Neal Cassady and the prophet Elijah in Herman Melville‘s Moby Dick, only a bit more vivid in that he seems to be really and truly living in his own realm.

I asked him at one point if he owns a Blu-ray player, and he talked about how the name Blu-ray sounds a little spooky, like “some kind of sea animal” — a blue sea monster that can kill with a single strike of its tail, say. Talk to 100 people about Blu-Ray and 99 of them will talk about the picture quality or how they’d love to finally buy one or whatever. Only one in 100, maybe one out of 1000, will answer the way Shannon did.

When Shannon was answering a question in front of a Screen Actors Guild audience following a Revolutionary Road screening a couple of weeks earlier, he spoke as if he was in a kitchen and talking to some guy standing nearby as he’s fishing through the freezer and looking for ice cream. He doesn’t give a performed answer, in other words — he speaks like a regular guy talking about how he worked on his car’s brake lining the other day and needs to go back and finish the job. Nothing to prove or put across. Just the facts.

Shannon’s next job is Werner Herzog‘s My Son, My Son, What Have Ye Done?, which will begin shooting next month. The first phase of filming will go from January12th to 20th. This will keep Shannon away, unfortunately, from the ’09 Sundance Film Festival, where two of his unseen films will be showing. He’d like to go, he says, but duty calls.

The Sundance film Shannon is especially proud of, he says, is Noah Buschel ‘s The Missing Person . Shannon plays a private detective looking for a guy who’s ostensibly disappeared on a train from Chicago to Los Angeles, but then it is gradually learned that the cause of the disappearance was something else entirely. The film costars Amy Ryan.

Shannon and a woman I can’t identify, between shots on Revolutionary Road.

The other is Shana Feste‘s The Greatest, a drama about a family coping with a son who’s been killed in a car crash and the young girl who is carrying the son’s child. Susan Sarandon and Pierce Brosnan play the grieving mom and dad; Shannon plays the other driver.

Shannon is only 34 (same age as Leonardo DiCaprio), but he’s been acting in films since 1992, when he was only 18. He played bit and character parts throughout the ’90s and the early ’00s. Two of his smaller roles that I remember with some clarity are cock-eyed military types in Joel Schumacher‘s Tigerland and Michael Bay ‘s Pearl Harbor.

Shannon’s attention-getting breakout came in ’06 when he starred in William Friedkin ‘s Bug, an upscale horror film that I’ve never seen. (Apologies.) Then he played the savior of the two buried guys in Oliver Stone‘s World Trade Center — the guy who leaves his job in Wilton, Connecticut, on 9/11, puts on his military clothes and drives into Manhattan to help pick through the rubble and help out any way he can.

Shannon’s next punch-through came when he played a cold-eyed nogoodnik looking to scam or rip-off Ethan Hawke in Sidney Lumet‘s Before The Devil Knows You’re Dead.

Shannon began his career as a stage actor in Chicago, where he helped found A Red Orchid Theatre and has also worked with Steppenwolf Theatre Company and the Northlight Theatre. He currently lives in the Red Hook area of Brooklyn with his wife (or perhaps just his girlfriend), actress Kate Arrington, a Steppenwolf ensemble member . They have a daughter, according to his Wikipedia bio page.

The reasons for the disappearance of Jennifer Seitz, the 36 year-old Florida woman who went over the side of a cruise ship off the coast of Cancun last Friday night, were speculated upon by an MSNBC guest commentator a few minutes ago.

The one that got me was the Titanic scenario — i.e., an allegation that lots and lots of drunken cruise ship passengers over the years have gotten bombed and then staggered out to the bow section and done Leonardo DiCaprio’s “I’m the king of the world!” routine (standing on the rails, beating their chests and screaming) and then lost their balance and fallen over.

If I had done that in a state of total drunkenness and fallen into the sea and been fished out and lived, I would’ve called my attorney the next day and sued the pants off director-writer James Cameron, DiCaprio, 20th Century Fox, Bill Mechanic, Jon Landau , Paramount and anyone else who had anything to do with that 1997 film. Yes, I’m kidding.

That king-of-the-world stunt is an alpha male thing, no? What 36 year-old woman in her right mind would do that? I think Seitz’s husband…I don’t know anything. But we all suspect the same thing, don’t we? She goes over the side around 8 pm, he goes off and fucking gambles and then waits eight hours to report that she’s missing? As Willem Dafoe‘s Jesus says about God’s intentions in The Last Temptation of Christ , “I think he wants to push me over !”

Me to Star Hotel proprietor: “I found a place in Park City but I can’t move in until Friday the 16th. Would you let me crash on the living-room couch for the first two nights (1.14 and 1.15)? Which I’ll pay you for, of course. It would be greatly appreciated if you could grant me this small favor, as you left me in the lurch this year. I thought I’d made it clear as a bell that I intended to return, having stayed in your wonderful abode the last two years and leaving my cowboy hat there and telling you I’d wear it when I returned in ’09 and so on. Anyway, can ya do me this one?”

So now that David Fincher‘s The Curious Case of Benjamin Button has earned $39 million on 2988 screens — the second-best Christmas Day opening of all time — it’s an even safer bet to be nominated for the Best Picture Oscar and perhaps take the win from Slumdog Millionaire, which has been selling fewer tickets. That’s what everyone’s thinking, right? All comes down to dollars and cents?

Me : Got any screenings this week? Anything? I don’t have a thing. Not a damn thing.

N.Y. Journalist Friend: Silent Light tomorrow morning at Film Forum, and that’s it though I don’t think I’ll make it. There won’t be anything until next week and that’s mostly small stuff and early January movies like Unborn. Let me know if you get any pre-Sundance screenings. I’ve only gotten In the Loop from Falco.

Me: I guess I’m not in the loop on that. Why wouldn’t Falco send me an invite for this? Who’s handing the Silent Light thing?

N.Y. Journalist Friend: [Provides name and e-mail address.]

Me: Why don’t publicists take this lull opportunity to screen some Sundance films for select journos? I’d love to see Tom DeCillo‘s When You’re Strange, for instance. How does it benefit sellers to keep a good Sundance movie totally under wraps? If it’s good it’s good and the word gets around.

So the Best Foreign Language Oscar race is between Matteo Garone‘s Gomorrah and Ari Folman‘s Waltz With Bashir….right? Because Bashir, which obviously qualifies as an animated feature, can’t hope to beat WALL*E?

I’m not sure about Gomorrah being “the best film about organized crime since The Godfather” because it’s acutely unemotional and docu-drama-like and therefore an entirely different species, although it is a gripping look at a hellish mafia-plagued realm. The fact that it won Best Film and Best Director at the European Film Awards ain’t hay.

It can be easy to succumb to tobacco lust in Europe. You make a deal with yourself along the lines of “I’m here two or three weeks, time out from real life, what the hell, do what the Romans do.” Smoking is considered heinous and unthinkable in this country, to the point that when people like Salma Hayek are photographed smoking it’s considered a bust.

But even here I’ve had moments of weakness. God forgive me. When you’re feeling alone and besieged and under heavy pressure, cigarettes are in your corner, on your side, providers of solace. Revolting concept, but there it is. Smoking, it seems, is generally for self-destructive lower middle-class and underclass types, and for successful under-35 actors of both genders.

I feel for anyone who hasn’t got their chops down as a public speaker — it’s a tough thing to get right if you’re not a “natural” — but Caroline Kennedy has now embarassed herself to the point that there’s almost no chance that Gov. David Paterson will appoint her to Hillary Clinton‘s Senate seat. The smart thing right now would be to withdraw her name from consideration and salvage some dignity. A woman who’s worth $100 million obviously has options in life. She’ll be fine.

Take a look at Will Smith‘s IMDB page and you’ll notice that over the last 15 years he’s made four movies with four top-ranked directors — Fred Schepisi‘s Six Degrees of Separation (’94), Tony Scott‘s Enemy of the State (’98), Michael Mann‘s Ali (’00) and Robert Redford‘s The Legend of Bagger Vance (’01). And Redford’s film (a.k.a., Bag of Gas) was probably his worst and therefore barely counts.

The rest of Smith’s directors have all been journeymen — nice guy professsionals (Barry Sonnenfeld, Peter Berg) but mainly fellows who can shoot a film in focus, get it in on time, etc, but none of them visionaries or even marginally outside the box. 25 years hence which films will Smith be remembered for? Ali and what else? The man only has a few years to knuckle down and work with the AA-quality directors, or history will not remember him with any great respect or kindliness.

Most of the 20something assistants who work for top-tier producers, agents and studio bigwigs think that their job is somehow about them — what they deserve, being shown the proper respect and consideration by their bosses, getting their weekends off. And if they aren’t treated the right way, they all go “waahhh.” Maybe one in ten of these guys understand that it’s not about their piddly-ass needs or their boss’s personality, but about excellence and doing it right and giving 110% or 115% in the service of whatever movie or deal or campaign they’re working on.

Mark Roybal, West Coast chief of Scott Rudin Prods.

It’s clear that Mark Roybal, longtime employee of producer Scott Rudin and self-standing producer of Doubt (as well as Kimberly Peirce ‘s Stoploss, and executive producer of No Country for Old Men), is one of the latter. Anyone who lasts 13 years with Rudin has to be sharp and shrewd and fast on his/her feet. Because Rudin is a tough taskmaster — ask anyone. Won’t tolerate slackers, whiners. Lives by the motto that goes something like (I’m improvising here) “we turn out top-quality stuff and so we damn well need to be better than the rest.”

The key to the 35 year-old Roybal’s survival and success, he says, is that working for Rudin is “finally about working for the movies he makes, and who makes better movies than Scott at this point? He’s the David O. Selznick of our generation.” That sounds like brown-nosing, but it’s pretty close to fact. What producer has a higher pedigree than Rudin’s? Who makes films that are more consistently Tiffany? No one.

Besides, says Roybal, “He’s as tough on himself as he is on anyone else. He’s incredibly productive. Complacency is not part of his vocabulary.”

The Harvard-educated Roybal has been with Rudin since ’95. He started out as an intern, then became an assistant and then an exec assistant. He earned IMDB credits during this period as Rudin’s assistant on Marvin’s Room, In & Out, The Truman Show, A Civil Action and Wonder Boys. In 2000 he began running Rudin’s literary department, which he calls “the greatest job in New York…you’re operating in the nexus of film, theatre and publishing” and basically being a first-rate golden retriever, which basically involves scoping out and optioning the latest hot galleys.

Doubt costar Amy Adams, Roybal, costars Viola Davis, Meryl Streep

Roybal moved to Los Angeles five or six years ago, and now operates out of Rudin’s offices in the Animation Building on the Burbank Disney lot. He basically oversees the west coast shop while Rudin holds down the fort in Manhattan.

Very few bosses offer advancement to employees, I told Roybal. Most of the time you have to stand up and look them in the eye and say I want a raise, a better job, more responsibility, more power. “It’s a little bit of both,” Roybal answered, meaning that he stood up but that Rudin was obliging. “I think Scott is looking for people who’ve got fight in them,” he says. “I learned that early on. Scott’s generous when you’ve proven yourself. He’s fair, he’s totally fair. It’s a meritocracy. He’s there to support you but you’ve gotta deliver. I figure if I can do it with Scott, I can do it anywhere.”

Roybal and Rudin both have “produced by” credits on Doubt but it was Roybal who rode herd on the New York shoot, which happened from late ’07 to February ’08. Rudin had produced the Doubt stage play, but he was occupied on the shooting of Revolutionary Road and The Reader as well as post-production matters and the Oscar campaign for No Country for Old Men.

Roybal feels especially proud of the work in Doubt, which he calls “a tight clean movie that only cost $20 million dollars. [Director John Patrick] Shanley‘s screenplay is sharp as a tack, and the autumnal colors in Roger Deakins‘ cinematography…as good as it gets, not one wasted shot.”

Old days (i.e., the mid or late ’90s) at Scott Rudin Prods. — (l. to r.) Ian McGloin, Roybal, Ed Goemans.

Roybal’s next producing gig may be on Snow and the Seven, a story based on Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs and set in Imperial Hong Kong of the 1870s. (The same basic bones with “a lot more action,” he says, “and of course with a wicked queen.”) There’s also the upcoming Nancy Meyers romantic triangle movie (Meryl Streep, Alec Baldwin, Steve Martin) and a Noah Baumbach film called Greenberg, which will star Ben Stiller .

Plus an adaptation of Jonathan Safran Foer‘s Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, a hallucinatory 9/11 movie which Eric Roth has written the screenplay for.

Plus Liz Meriwether (Fuckbuddies) — “a truly comic voice, in the mold and vein of Tina Fey but with her own distinct tone” — is writing a movie for Rudin and Miramax called Maynard and Jennica.

Roybal has been married to Paramount marketing co-president Megan Colligan since ’02.

He seems a bit old-fashioned due to the fact that he reads print versions of newspapers — the N.Y. Times, New York Post and the Wall Street Journal every day plus the trades. Plus books, of course. Paper love! “I resist the Kindle,” he said. “There’s something very solid about reading a book and flipping those pages.” You’re a rank sentimentalist, I said. “A fundamentalist!” he answered..