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Week of March 13, 2006

You can take "The Peacemaker," "Deep Impact," and "The Tuxedo." We'll take "Gladiator," "American Beauty" and anything else that didn't suck.

Emilio's 17

Yeah, like he needed all that overpriced crap anyway...

This lawsuit's going to make 'House Party' look like 'House Party Two!'

I told you... don't call me SENIOR!!

Maybe this is all a bad dream too?

Thanks Sharon, but I think I'll wait until this one comes out on DVD (so I can freeze frame of course)

There is absolutely, positively no nepotism in Hollywood. None.

You're good, baby, I'll give you that... but me? I'm magic.

This band will go down like a lead balloon

Well, Goodbye there Children...

They can't sell the Capitol Records building! What will be left to destroy in the next crappy 'end of the world' movie?

Same old Courtney - still sponging off Kurt

Panic on the streets of Austin

You're a fat, Botox faced, wig-wearing ninny! Oh yeah? Well your band has a dirty H addict as a lead singer!

Black Sabbath, Blondie, Miles Davis, The Sex Pistols, Lynyrd Skynyrd Enter Rock Hall



01 THE BREAK-UP $39.17
$12759/av

02 X-MEN: THE LAST STAND $34.02
$9159/av

03 OVER THE HEDGE $20.65
$5170/avg

04 THE DAVINCI CODE $18.61
$4953/avg

05 MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE III $4.68
$1756/avg

06 POSEIDON $3.49
$1283/avg

07 RV $3.20
$1469/avg

08 SEE NO EVIL $2.04
$1607/avg

09 AN INCONVENIENT TRUTH $1.36
$17615/avg

10 JUST MY LUCK $855K
$892/avg









 


 
Gangs vs. Gangs

 

If Miramax Films and Martin Scorsese had decided to release a polished, cleaned-up version of the GANGS OF NEW YORK work print they had in the can (or, if you want to get technical, that was stored on Marty and editor Thelma Schoonmaker's Avid) sometime in October '01, we'd all be enjoying a better, more rewarding film than the GANGS that will open nationwide four days from now (12.20).

I've seen both versions and most of you haven't, so listen up because I know something you don't. The best GANGS OF NEW YORK will not be hitting screens this weekend, and may never even be seen on DVD, given Scorsese's apparent disinterest in releasing "director's cut" versions of his films, or in supplying deleted scenes or outtakes or any of that other DVD jazz.

The work-print version is longer by roughly 20 minutes, and more filled out and expressive as a result, but that's not the thing. The main distinction for me is that it's plainer and therefore more cinematic, as it doesn't use the narration track that, in my view, pollutes the official version. It also lacks a musical score, with only some drums and temp music.

This leaves you free, in short, to simply pick and choose from the feast of visual information that GANGS OF NEW YORK is, and make of it what you will. And if that isn't the essence of great movie-watching, I don't know what is.

It also points out what's wrong with the theatrical release version, which I feel has been fussed over too intensively, compressed, simplified, lathered in big-movie music and, to some extent, thematically obscured.

Miramax and Scorsese had the superior work-print version in their hands 14 months ago. It's a little rough around the edges, but it's not tremendously different from the version being released on Friday and is only missing a musical score and some CG effects, which tells me it could have easily been prepared for a December '01 release. But Miramax decided otherwise and pushed it back it until now. If you ask me their reasons for doing so were short-sighted and wrong.

Wrong like the Ladd Company was in putting out the edited-down, narration-fortified BLADE RUNNER in '82 and the truncated version of ONCE UPON A TIME IN AMERICA IN '84, and wrong like Walter Parkes was in pushing DreamWorks to release the shorter version of Cameron Crowe's ALMOST FAMOUS instead of the obviously superior UNTITLED version, which eventually came out on DVD.

When I say Miramax, of course, I mean company chief Harvey Weinstein. I could be wrong (nobody's perfect), but I don't believe Scorsese for a second when he says the theatrical version coming out this Friday is the one that bears his personal stamp of preference. My guess is that Harvey's mitts are all over this puppy. Scorsese may have his weaknesses or indulgences as a filmmaker, but he's always let his films play at their own pace and allow them to be true to themselves -- their own tempo, themes, moods. He's used narration before, but never in such a way that the narration wound up feeling like an encumbrance. And he's never been one to speed his films up when they weren't working.

Why has Scorsese been pooh-poohing questions about an alternate cut in interviews? I think he's playing along to get along and move on with his career, which is panning out quite nicely now that he's set to direct THE AVIATOR. The $100 million-plus Howard Hughes biopic is due to roll in May with GANGS star Leonardo DiCaprio as the famed adventurer and movie producer. It will be presented to the public under the domestic banners of Miramax and Warner Bros.

There was a "maybe" rumble about it in VARIETY, but I broke the story 14 months ago in the New York DAILY NEWS about Weinstein's decision to delay the GANGS release "until the spring or summer in '02." (That's what I was told.) The Miramax spin was that the film was being delayed because it contained uncomfortable echoes of the 9.11 tragedy, but I always felt that was kind of a dodge and now I pretty much believe that.

There's a lot of smoke and ash in the air during the final gang battle, which you could argue is reminiscent of the smoke and ash that covered downtown Manhattan air after the collapse of the twin towers. There's also a brief shot in the film's third act showing a row of dead bodies with lit candles placed on their chests, which summons memories of the thousands of tiny candles that burned for weeks in memory of the dead near Ground Zero.

But GANGS is such a complete immersion into the particular world of 1862 and '63, and so scrupulous in its recreations, I didn't experience so much as a flicker of 9.11 recollection.

It appears that the more fundamental Miramax view was that the film needed work, and so back it went to the editing room and the scoring stage, as the interest on the $110 million or so that GANGS cost to produce started accruing. Roughly twenty minutes were eventually trimmed (give or take), a voice-over narration by Leonardo DiCaprio was added on, and Elmer Bernstein's score was scuttled in favor of a new one by Howard Shore.

A feature-length version wasn't even shown at the Cannes Film Festival in May '02, which took place at least six months after this work-print version had been assembled. Instead, a 20-minute product reel, which I saw several weeks ago in Los Angeles and was suitably impressed by, was screened. Only over the last couple of weeks has the final, full-sized version been seeing the light of day.

Kill Bill

I'm not saying the theatrical release version doesn't have its rewards. Scorsese's story of love, revenge and social upheaval in 19th Century New York is a kind-of Dickensian mulligan stew you can jump into and happily splash around inside of. It's like a giant culinary pig-out for movie buffs -- a buffet of wonderfully detailed, old-fashioned (i.e., organic instead of CGI), epic-scale filmmaking. GANGS is so fine and flavorful in this respect you can turn your mind off totally to the story and characters and still come away satisfied.

Let me take my hat off right now and throw it high into the air in tribute to Scorsese, production designer Dante Ferretti, costume designer Sandy Powell, cinematographer Michael Ballhaus and all the others on the team for this achievement. It's been a long time since the colors, sounds and textures of a bygone era have been recreated with this much authenticity and precision. Believe it -- what we're watching isn't unfolding on a monstrous outdoor set built upon Rome's Cinecitta Studios lot, but is really and truly happening in downtown New York, circa 1862.

And let's not forget the robust flavor and sheer enjoyment that pours out of Daniel Day Lewis's habitation of the villainous Bill the Butcher, which won him a shared Best Actor trophy last weekend from the L.A. film critics. Or, for that matter, the fierce, feral-like performance by DiCaprio as the tortured hero, Amsterdam Vallon. Or the first-rate turns by Cameron Diaz (delivering her best work since BEING JOHN MALKOVICH) , Brendan Gleason, Jim Broadbent, Gary Lewis, Henry Thomas, Liam Neeson, Cara Seymour and David Hemmings.

And yet script flaws have made GANGS into two movies -- the magnificent first hour and forty minutes, and the less satisfying final hour, give or take, minus the final credits. (VARIETY puts the running time at 168 minutes.)

GANGS starts out as a revenge piece and seems to be interested in this aspect for the bulk of its length, but it ends up with the gathering forces of history (gradual assimilation of the Irish into New York's political power-sharing arrangement, the Draft Riots of 1863) not only overwhelming the gangs vs. gangs angle but making the characters strongly driven by personal motives and power trips -- Lewis's, mainly, but also DiCaprio's to some extent -- seem suddenly small and superfluous.

One of the plus factors of the work-print version is that this shift in emphasis seems to unfold a bit more gradually, and with a touch more resonance.

Starting in 1846, GANGS shows us the knee-high Amsterdam witnessing the death of his father, Priest Vallon (Neeson), at the blood-soaked hands of Bill the Butcher in a violent turf battle over which gang -- the Natives or the Irish-fortified "Dead Rabbits" and their allies -- will hold sway over the Five Points section of Manhattan's Lower East Side.

Flash forward 16 years, with a fully-grown Amsterdam being released from a New York reformatory called Hellgate. He returns to Five Points to set in motion his methodical plan to eventually kill Bill, who has become the reigning Godfather of the area, taking a piece of all the action from each and every operator. Amsterdam goes to work for Bill as a thief and eventually ingratiates himself with this florid-mouthed fiend as a kind of substitute-son figure.

Perhaps the film's best scene is when Lewis unloads his soul to DiCaprio after a night of debauchery, remarking that "civilization is coming to an end" and lamenting at one point, "I never had a son." (This is the money scene that people will be thinking back to when they hand Lewis his Oscar nomination for Best Actor.)

Meanwhile, Amsterdam begins to fall in love with a pickpocket and sometime prostitute named Jenny (Diaz), who figures more and more intimately into his life the closer he comes to confronting Bloody Bill with his true agenda. But Bill is tipped off to the truth of things by Amsterdam's two-faced ally, Johnny (Thomas), who also has eyes for Jenny, and he strikes first, leaving Amsterdam half-dead and licking his wounds in an underground cave.

This is when GANGS starts to lose his punch and vigor. When DiCaprio goes down (albeit temporarily), so does the movie...and it runs into more and more trouble as it goes along.

The last hour is about Amsterdam reviving the Dead Rabbits, who had been outlawed by Bill after the 1846 battle, but this time more as a political force in the coming wave of New York political dealmaking. He pacts with Bill's former ally Boss Tweed (Broadbent) and persuades his father's old ally "Monk" McGinn to run for political office, which results in a win. But Bill, set in his rancid ways and fearful of changing times, interferes and forces Amsterdam and his Rabbit brethren to gather their forces for another violent showdown.

But just as this final conflict is about to happen, a bigger disturbance rocks the city. The Draft Riots, sparked by the poor's resentment at being forced into uniform while the rich were able to buy their way out of military service for $300, explode, and the Bill vs. Amsterdam face-off suddenly seems like a nickel-and-dime squabble. At times the smoke from the U.S. military cannon fire aimed at nearby rioters makes it difficult for warring gangs to even see even other.

Bill's demise and Amsterdam's triumph are, of course, symbolic of the changes that were overtaking New York at the time, but story-wise the gang showdown happening concurrent with the Draft Riots is not a satisfying turn. It's a basic law that any film that starts out as one thing but ends up as another will always have hell to pay.

(Wait a minute -- I just thought of a solution. Ready? Amsterdam considers the obvious fact that Bill didn't sneakily murder his father in 1846, but cut him down as an honorable opponent on the field of battle, and one who respects his memory. He thereby finds it within himself to come to Bill's aid as he's cut down by military rifle fire. Amsterdam drags him to a safe haven and embraces him as he dies, showing him the respect that Bill had always shown to his father. He does, in short, what John Wayne did in THE SEARCHERS when he picked up Natalie Wood at the end and embraced her and said, "Let's go home, Debbie." )

As is, the last hour is definitely problematic. Some of this, to judge from the work print, is Marty's doing, but a lot of is almost certainly Harvey's. Cut it! Trim it! Make it move faster! It starts to feel choppy, forced, accelerated. Scorsese uses intrusive title cards to explain which melee is taking place where during the Draft Riot sequences. Then he uses a Mel Allen-type announcer narrating the action for same. (The announcer stuff was taken from actual telegraph reports that were relayed between various police precincts during the riots.)

The crowd is shown stringing up black guys and burning them alive, and while I've since figured out that their resentment was about the whole slavery issue behind the Civil War, it's not all that clear why when you're watching the film.

Finally, sadly, GANGS ends on a note of confusion. It stumbles across the finish line. I walked out in a kind of stumble myself, wondering what had happened.

Seeing is Believing

Such was my view after seeing the theatrical release version nearly two weeks ago. Then I was told by a respected critic that he'd heard from a friend that Scorsese had passed along a three-hour -plus version of GANGS on tape and confided, "Putting aside my contractual obligation to deliver a shorter, two-hour-and-forty-minute version to Miramax, this is the version I'm happiest with," or words to that effect.

Intrigued, I ran a "Word" item the next day asking anyone out there in possession of a longer cut to consider sending it along. Two days later a guy slipped me a tape of the three-hour work print.

The tape has some extra footage and scenes that go on longer than they do in the theatrical version, but it's not radically different from the roughly 158- or 160-minute version (not counting credits) opening on Friday. Being a second or third-generation dub, and taken right off an Avid, it looks crummy as hell. It's different than the version opening next Friday, but scene after scene after scene play exactly the same in both. And yet for me the work-print version is much more of a turn-on.

The lack of narration is welcome in the tape version because it makes for a simpler, more elegant film. It can be "work," in a way, to listen to a narrator explaining this and that, or providing a context. It makes for a purer, less fettered experience to just let the visuals to do their stuff, with the audience just absorbing everything as it happens, and everyone putting it together on their own time and terms. It allows for fresh discovery.

I'm assuming Miramax pressed Marty to add the narration because test audiences said they didn't understand this and that. GANGS editor Thelma Schoonmaker told me last week that the narration was put into GANGS because "a lot of intelligent people couldn't understand what was going on" in some scenes, and "we felt it made some aspects of the film more clear."

And so the Modern Hollywood dilemma: the test-screening simpletons don't understand something, and the artistry from a world-class talent like Scorsese's is subsequently reduced into something pedestrian, because the budget is so big and the distributor feels the film has to be dumbed-down in order to have a chance of recouping.

The work-print version has some extra stuff here and there, but not all that much. Most of its longer length comes from additional slivers of footage.

In the theatrical version there are electric guitar power chords on the soundtrack during the opening and closing battle sequences; there are none in the work print version, and the scenes play much better without them.

There is an added scene of Leo and Henry Thomas together just after the burning-house, dueling-fire-brigade sequence in the first act that informs the bonding that these characters experience in the early stages.

There's a funny line that Marty himself delivers as the head of a well-do-do uptown household. Cameron Diaz's Jenny has gotten inside the abode in order to rob it by pretending she's a recently-hired housekeeper. When the regular housekeeper explains that Diaz has arrived, Marty's pater familias says, "We don't have a new housekeeper." (The character appears in the theatrical version, but says nothing.)

To my great disappointment, the voice-over of an official reading aloud the various reports about what's going down in various neighborhoods in Manhattan as the Draft Riots unfold is also in this version. Worse, Marty himself is heard reading it. He apparently felt on his own that this was important, and I can't understand why. The visuals are enough to tell us we're seeing aspects of the same insurrection in different locations.

The third-act battle between Leo and Daniel Day Lewis goes on a bit, and seems more intriguing than it does in the theatrical version. The superfluous nature of their conflict is emphasized by the drawn-out fighting and the camera lingering on their bodies as they lie next to each other beneath the smoke and ash...exhausted, spent ...a little bit like the depleted Gregory Peck and Charlton Heston bashing each other in that famous scene from William Wyler's THE BIG COUNTRY ('58).

I loved the ending, which is almost the same but without the music and the effects. Amsterdam and Jenny are standing over Bill's grave in a Brooklyn cemetery, with Manhattan visible across the East River. There's a line Leo says to Cameron as they leave the cemetery --- "Can I walk with you a little?" or words to that effect -- that I don't think is audible in the theatrical version, but which works very nicely. Because of its quiet, gentle quality, it's a bit more satisfying than the theatrical version's finale, which uses a final piece of Leo's voiceover along with Shore's music telling us we've come to the End of a Big Important Movie.

Schoonmaker was at an HBO studio last week working on the GANGS DVD, which she said will be coming out next August. It will contain no extras and no deleted footage. "Marty doesn't believe in that," she said. "He believes in showing only the finished film." I don't think it matters if the work print I've seen represents Scorsese's idea of a nearly-finished film 14 months ago, or not. The point is that it shows that GANGS is a rich enough thing to stand on its own without narration or florid music to prop it up. Watching it proved to me once again that less can sometimes be a whole lot more.

Whoopsee Daisy!

Patricia Clarkson, a good actress, portrayed Julianne Moore's caring (if somewhat clucky and narrow-minded) best friend in Todd Hayne's FAR FROM HEAVEN. But until today, when the New York Film Critics Circle gave Clarkson their Best Supporting Actress award, no one I know had given her performance so much as a thought in terms of year-end honors.

Let's be frank and call Carkson's win what everyone is almost certainly calling it to themselves, or is sharing with their close friends -- slightly wack. Where is the "extra" element in her HEAVEN character, or in the way she delivers the goods? All Clarkson does in the film is articulate from time to time the social sentiments of the straight-laced 1958 suburban norm. She does this with feeling, yes, but not award-level passion.

But congrats are also due the NYFCC for doing the right thing by Diane Lane. Giving her a richly deserved Best Actress trophy for her UNFAITHFUL performance should provide an antidote to the spell that Robert Welkos' Oscar handicapping piece in the LOS ANGELES TIMES cast a few weeks ago by barely acknowledging Lane's chances for an Oscar nomination. The NYFC also confirms what nearly everyone I've been speaking to out here believes, which is she delivered a great performance in a fairly good film.

I think the Manhattan-based organization went a bit too far in crowning FAR FROM HEAVEN as pretty much the greatest film of the year. It's not -- it's the most perfectly pitched, beautifully sustained and emotionally grounded stylistic conceit of the year. There's a difference there.

The NYFCC gave HEAVEN five major trophies -- Best Picture, Todd Haynes for Best Director, Dennis Quaid for Best Supporting Actor, Clarkson for Best Supporting Actress and Ed Lachman for Best Cinematographer. I'll go for Lachman, sure, but the rest of them deserve silver stars, not gold.

Daniel Day-Lewis won again as Best Actor (following last weekend's shared Best Actor triumph from the L.A. film critics) for his Bill-the-Butcher in GANGS OF NEW YORK.

The Best Screenplay award went to Charlie Kaufman and Donald Kaufman for ADAPTATION, which couldn't be more deserving. Alfonso Cuaron and Y TU MAMA TAMBIEN won the Best Foreign Film, again echoing the L.A. film critics. Paul Justman's STANDING IN THE SHADOWS OF MOTOWN won the Best Non-Fiction Film award, and Hayao Miyazaki's SPIRITED AWAY took the Best Animated Film trophy, in another L.A. film critics echo.

In Like Schmidt

I can live with the L.A. Film Critics picking Alexander Payne's ABOUT SCHMIDT as Best Picture last Saturday. It's an underwhelming piece, but I respect its honesty and what it tries to do. I would have had difficulties if they'd chosen FAR FROM HEAVEN, which I think is primarily a passionate parlor trick and something less than a full deck.

"The groundswell for SCHMIDT caught most of us by surprise," one critic wrote to me after the voting ended late Saturday afternoon. "I can't see [the New York critics] going for SCHMIDT, but then again I couldn't imagine any group before today going for it. I think it's an incredibly minor film, and a major comedown from [Payne's] ELECTION.''

"There was basically no runaway winner film here," NEW TIMES critic Andy Klein commented. "There were a couple of races that were very close, and some that were totally un-close. GANGS did not have very much support [for Best Picture], although Scorsese was among the top five candidates for Best Director."

"It kept kind of tilting back and forth between SCHMIDT, FAR FROM HEAVEN, TALK TO HER, ADAPTATION and Y TU MAMA TAMBIEN," another critic observed.

Hooray for Alfonso Cuaron's Y TU MAMA TAMBIEN winning the Best Foreign Film award, and to TALK TO HER's Pedro Almodovar for nabbing the Best Director trophy, although one might ask why Payne or Cuaron weren't chosen. (Todd Haynes, the director of FAR FROM HEAVEN, was the first runner-up.)

"Things were spread around," said Klein, "and in truth, there's a tendency to want to spread things around."

Payne and writing partner Jim Taylor won the Best Screenplay award for ABOUT SCHMIDT, and this I totally don't get. Especially with Charlie Kaufman and his non-existent brother Donald being the first runner-ups for ADAPTATION.

Julianne Moore's taking the Best Actress award on the basis of her performances in both FAR FROM HEAVEN and THE HOURS, on top of her National Board of Review win a week or so earlier, is starting to make her seem like this year's Julia Roberts. THE PIANO TEACHER's Isabelle Huppert was second in balloting.

No one was the least bit surprised by the Best Actor trophy being split between GANGS OF NEW YORK's Daniel Day-Lewis and SCHMIDT's Jack Nicholson. (I'm a Michael Caine fan myself.)

Edie Falco's win for Best Supporting Actress for her SUNSHINE STATE performance over ABOUT SCHMIDT's Kathy Bates felt surprising to me. A member says that "defectors went over to Falco" in the follow-up balloting. How many were voting for Falco's SUNSHINE STATE work and how many for her awesome acting as Carmella Soprano over the last four years?

Chris Cooper's Best Supporting Actor win for his role in ADAPTATION was "completely a romp," says Klein. His runner-up was Chris Walken in CATCH ME IF YOU CAN. Ed Lachman's FAR FROM HEAVEN cinematography beat out Conrad Hall's lensing for ROAD TO PERDITION. Dante Feretti's GANGS OF NEW YORK production design was preferred over that by Mark Friedberg on FAR FROM HEAVEN. Elmer Bernstein's FAR FROM HEAVEN score edged out Phillip Glass's score for THE HOURS -- could there have been a slight sympathy factor from Bernstein's GANGS OF NEW YORK score having been thrown out by Martin Scorsese?

Michael Moore's BOWLING FOR COLUMBINE came in second to Bill Weber and David Weissman's THE COCKETTES for Best Documentary. Miyazaki's SPIRITED AWAY won for Best Animated Film, with a special citation for LILO & STITCH. MORVERN CALLAR director Lynne Ramsay won the New Generation Award.



 

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Speculation that the New York Film Festival "snubbed" Wes Anderson's The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou is untrue, according to a spokesperson. The festival committee saw Aquatic last June, in tandem with plans to open the sea-faring comedy-drama in October or thereabouts. And while "they liked it and wanted it," a decision was later made for Touchstone to open Aquatic in December, and the notion of a NYFF debut didn't seem quite as desirable.
Aquatic's opening is set for 12.10 in New York and Los Angeles, and 12.24 wide. I would normally be scratching my head over the title expansion (i.e., adding with Steve Zissou), as this sort of thing usually indicates indecision and therefore trouble on some level. But here the addition sounds droll and all of a piece, as with all things Anderson. I also imagine that Anderson, like any director from Spielberg on down, welcomed the extra time to tweak and fine-tune.
A suggestion that may not save the James Bond franchise, but will at least halt its downhill slide: arrange for producers Michael Wilson and Barbara Broccoli to be gently but firmly kidnapped and then taken to an undislcosed location (somewhere in Southeast Asia would be best), where they will be kept in two lavish homes under house arrest, with allowances for family visitations. Once this is done, all serious interest in Eric Bana playing the new 007 will cease and Wilson and Broccoli's successors can look at other options.
One of these options should, of course, be to shut the series down. Just because the Bond movies continue to make money doesn't mean they're dead inside, and that one of most compassionate acts anyone could do would be to fire a bullet into the skull of this outdated, cliche-ridden franchise and walk away proud....like Pierce Brosnan has done. Bana is said to be unsure about stepping into the 007 series, according to London's Evening Standard. The tabloid says an offer has gone out to him but that Bana is "currently deciding whether it's something he really wants to sign up [for]." Translation: he's heard the Wilson-Broccoli stories. Eric Bana would be to the 007 tradition as Lex Barker was to the Tarzan series in the 1950s.
A suggestion that may not save the James Bond franchise, but will at least halt its downhill slide: arrange for producers Michael Wilson and Barbara Broccoli to be gently but firmly kidnapped and then taken to an undislcosed location (somewhere in Southeast Asia would be best), where they will be kept in two lavish homes under house arrest, with allowances for family visitations. Once this is done, all serious interest in Eric Bana playing the new 007 will cease and Wilson and Broccoli's successors can look at other options.
One of these options should, of course, be to shut the series down. Just because the Bond movies continue to make money doesn't mean they're dead inside, and that one of most compassionate acts anyone could do would be to fire a bullet into the skull of this outdated, cliche-ridden franchise and walk away proud....like Pierce Brosnan has done. Bana is said to be unsure about stepping into the 007 series, according to London's Evening Standard. The tabloid says an offer has gone out to him but that Bana is "currently deciding whether it's something he really wants to sign up [for]." Translation: he's heard the Wilson-Broccoli stories. Eric Bana would be to the 007 tradition as Lex Barker was to the Tarzan series in the 1950s.
Hold up on that rumble about the conniving heavyweight behind Ted Griffin's firing off the Graduate-sequel flick not being Jennifer Aniston, but costar Kevin Costner. The Fly on theWall guy claimed in an 8.16 posting, using quotes from an anonymous crew member, that Griffin's dismissal "was totally Kevin's fault, not Jennifer's."
But now another guy who was right in the thick of the situation says this account is "completely false," due to the fact that "Costner hadn't started working" on the film at the time Griffin's dismissal went down. Hey, I'm just passing this along.
The Entertainment Weekly cover (#779-780) asks if Johnny Depp's performance as J.M. Barrie in Finding Neverland (Miramax, 10.22) will deliver a Best Actor Oscar...and in so doing indicates an obvious rooting interest on the part of EW staffers (film critics Owen Gleiberman and/or Liza Schwarzbaum, it's safe to presume) in at least helping Depp land a nomination. In the face of such a boldly-put suggestion, I think it's fair to offer a counter-opinion, which is that Depp's acting in this tenderly composed biopic may be too exacting for its own good.
In other words, Depp seems to really "get" the eccentric Scottish playwright who wrote Peter Pan , who, according to the press notes, was said to have a quiet, puckish personality and always spoke in a low burr. And that's Depp in the film. The problem is that his Barrie seems so internal, so into his own quiet determinations and oddball kindnesses, that you feel a strange urge to strangle him after a while. Plus there's something too actorly about his Scottish accent; it sounds at once uncertain and overly studied. In short, Depp did everything right...and in so doing created a character and a vibe that feels curiously wrong.
You like a filmmaker, you find him/her intriguing, you try to show interest and support and....test pattern. I became curious about Abel Ferrara's supposed next film, Mary, in which Vincent Gallo will play an actor playing Jesus Christ in a film-within-the-film. (This, at least, is what the Brown Bunny star-director-producer told me last week.) The focus of Mary, says Gallo, is the actress who plays the mother of Christ, and who experiences a kind of spiritual satori as a result of immersing herself in the part. The film, Gallo adds, is supposed to shoot in Rome in late September or early October.
But of course, there can be no contact whatsoever with Ferrara. The guy almost never calls back anyone, I've heard. It's always, "I'll call you." An e-mail to Ferrara's Rome-based producer resulted in zip. Ferrara's New York attorney, Jay Julien, professed a general ignorance about Mary, and couldn't direct me to anyone with a history of replying to phone calls who might. I've learned that whenever it's this much trouble to get hold of someone, it's usually not worth the effort in the first place.
Sofia Coppola is set to direct a period costume drama about Marie Antoinette and husband King Louis XVI for Columbia. Wigs and hoop gowns, the French revolution, let 'em eat cake, the guillotine...all that good stuff. This is a joke, right? The reasonably talented Sofia hasn't shown a glimmer of the kind of commanding, exacting vision that the lensing of any historical drama of this sort would require. I mean, presuming Columbia wants something at least half as good, say, as Barry Lyndon, which they probably couldn't care less about.
But I am looking forward to watching Kirsten Dunst, who will play Antoinette, get her head cut off. And you have to admire the sense of humor that Coppola and her casting director have shown in choosing Jason Schwartzman ("Max" in Rushmore) to play her husband Louis. If they stick to history, he'll also lose his head. Valor, Max...valor! You won't feel a thing. A tickling sensation, your head falls in the basket, everything turns numb, and then blackness. You can do that standing on your head. Oops..sorry.
Regarding the recent death of King Kong star Fay Wray, Move City News' David Poland wrote that Peter Jackson, director of an all-new King Kong flick, "wanted Ms. Wray to close his film with the 'Twas Beauty That Killed The Beast' line, but, ever the lady, Ms. Wray was unwilling (though attempts at persuasion continued) because she felt it would be arrogant to call the character she played -- and thus, herself -- a beauty."
Apart from the utterly nonsensical thinking conveyed in Wray's alleged view, the item is another worrisome indicator that Jackson's King Kong is going to be way too Jackson-y. (Which is to say movie-mucky to the point of suffocation.) Can you imagine a line as important as that one -- the big closer! -- given to a 96 year-old woman as an affectionate gesture, however heartfelt on Jackson's part? Art is art and emotions are emotions, and never the twain shall meet. If Jackson is handing out cameo kicker lines as tokens of respect to grand old ladies, forget it....it's over. John Ford once told Nunnally Johnson that to be a good director you have to be a bit of a bastard. This, conversely speaking, may be Jackson's problem. He's too mushy, too much of a sweetheart.
This is old news now, but those people who described Collateral's box-office performance last weekend as "so-so" or " middling" or whatever were being a tad dismissive. Unfair, really. A movie as dark as this one, with a gray-haired Tom Cruise playing a cold-hearted assassin, is doing great by taking in $24 million during its first weekend. Only three other Cruise films -- Minority Report and the two Mission Impossible's -- have had better openers.
And Exhibitor Relations' Paul Dergarabedian must have been smokin' some strong stuff before telling the New York Times' Sharon Waxman that Collateral "is not a movie that can be supported by teenagers." He's saying...what? That teenagers can't deal with urban thrillers about cops and hit men and what-all? That beautifully rendered mood and ace dialogue don't impress them? I should add there was a different reaction to the film when I saw it with a paying crowd last weekend. They didn't applaud, but the two industry crowds I saw it with earlier did. Hmmmm.
Ben Affleck was his usual glib self during his hanging-out-in-Boston segment with Katie Couric a couple of days ago...same-old, same-old...but something different happened when he did a chat thing with Hardball's Chris Matthews on Tuesday afternoon. He was focused, sharp, and quick, and had some very cogent things to say about Kerry-vs.-Bush, voter sentiments and the general lay of the land.
In other words, he did himself a huge favor. For the first time in a very long time Affleck was suddenly about something besides Bennifer, chasing girls, iffy movies and gambling sprees. He said he might want to jump into politics down the road, since the movie career thing has its limits in terms of feeling fulfilled or spiritually nourished. He also told Matthews he'd like to have his job, and Matthews said in response, "I do fear you."












Addicted to Bad
by Patrick Keller

International Intrigue
by Alison Veneto

Nocturnal Admissions
by D.K. Holm

Strange Impersonation
by Kim Morgan

Trailer Park
by Christopher Stipp




New DVD Releases
for April 11, 2006

DVD Diatribe
by D.K. Holm

DVD Late Show
by Christopher Mills




Preachin' from the Longbox
by Britt Schramm

Should It Be a Movie?
by Marc Mason

New Comic Book Releases
for April 12, 2006, 2006




New CD Releases
for April 11, 2006

Music for the Masses
by M.C. Bell




TV Recommendations
Boob toob picks of the week by Chris Ryall

Kentucky Fried Rasslin'
by Scott Bowden

TV Pilot Review Archives
by Chris Ryall



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