July 29, 2003

The Gigli review will wait for Friday, but I do think it is safe to offer my first, raw, instinctual reaction… “If you are reading this, it is because you are clever bastard and highlighted the empty space. Nonetheless, I am not going to break the embargo just because you are clever enough to catch me. Now, accept my jaw-dropped silence and go along to read the rest of the column like the less clever folks!!!“

More on Friday.

In an ironic turn, I happened to write in to Jim Romenesko’s excellent Media News column to complain about Neal Gabler and the Los Angeles Times hanging the leering coverage of the Kobe Bryant accusation on the internet. As I pointed out, in classically long-winded form, the argument is about as clever as a four-year-old claiming that they had no choice about doing a bad thing because “they were doing it first!”

And so it is with Roger Friedman’s artless, embargo-breaking analysis of Gigli, which went up on his FoxNews site today. I am not saying that Roger is wrong about everything, but here is the irony. Roger likes to write, between taking licks on one Manhattan-based studio’s lollypop, that people should not trust web sites that are not associated with “real” news organizations. When questioned about the journalistic legitimacy of Fox News, he quickly distances himself from the right wing TV hosts that have made the network so popular. Regardless, here he is, doing his level best to cement the image that the internet is loaded with reckless hooligans who serve only their own interests. How very legitimate!

The truth is, I do not know how this will play at Columbia. Is Roger Friedman “a web guy” or is he just “that schmuck from Fox News?” How will they react to the embargo break on Ain’t It Cool News coming off of last weekend’s junket screenings of S.W.A.T.? I don’t know.

I can only hope that the studio’s marketing division, now under Geoff Ammer and Jeff Blake, will understand an asshole is an asshole is an asshole and the medium is not the defining characteristic of that assholedom.

As for Mr. Friedman, who is not allowed to mention oral sex on his website and is shocked by the word “pussy,” he will survive, proving that not only the strong do. After all, it’s only a month or two before he starts shilling for Cold Mountain. Can’t wait!

NO TRANSLATION NECESSARY: The Oscar parade hasn’t quite launched at full strength quite yet. But here are a couple of tips. Forget the Jim Carrey/Kate Winslet/Charlie Kaufman film… it won’t be ready until 2004. And move this film to near the top of your lists… Big Fish. Columbia execs have gotten a look at the still-un-CGed film in the last few weeks and the stakes were immediately raised. They are going to fight to get the movie ready in time for this year. If they can, expect it to supercede any of the other Columbia product as the lead show pony in this year’s Oscar race.

And then there is Lost in Translation…

Sophia Coppola has found her voice as a filmmaker, here in just her second feature. There is no singular predecessor to which to relate the film. It has some of the smooth surface and underlying ennui of late 60s films like The Graduate and Goodbye, Columbus. It has some of the outsider-in-a-beautiful-land sensibility that marked Hal Ashby’s work in the early 70s. It has some of the easy sensuality of the French New Wave. It owes a little to Richard Linklater’s wandering philosophers. There seems to be a touch of Patrice LeConte’s undeniable and ill-fated romances. And it has a far more complex, but still reminiscent of Jackie Gleason in The Hustler performance by Bill Murray. In that vein, it’s interesting that Jim Carrey has not found a role like this, while Murray has gotten Oscar street cred from his work with Wes Anderson and now this.

This isn’t your conventional story movie. This tale of two married people who come together in their loneliness and remember themselves together is as delicate as a dandelion but as thick and juicy as a filet mignon. Coppola understands that some questions are better left unanswered.

The film opens on a single image of Scarlett Johansson’s tush, in a pair of sheer-backed rose-colored panties. That may seem sexual to you, but it is tastefully done, with R-rated parts covered. More to the point, the image is a perfect pre-reflection of the movie, like a ripe piece of fruit, never meant to be eaten, but within reach in this Garden of Eden.

Johansson and Murray are Coppola’s modern Adam & Eve, as jaded as the original duo was innocent. They come to the story with their own relative paradises, but they seek a deeper knowing. Somehow, they can only come to that place together.

Johansson is almost unrecognizable, believably playing a woman in her early 20s (she shot the film at 17). She is a classic beauty in the classic way that nothing about her is classic. Yet, her soul seems like a soft place for a loved one to land. Murray plays a Hollywood action star, though the specifics of his fame are not really important. He is in Japan to shoot a series of Suntory commercials. She is in Tokyo with her photographer husband, who is too busy to spend time with her.

From bars to restaurants to karaoke to strip clubs to the streets of Tokyo, they explore Japan. But they spend a lot more time inside themselves.

I don’t want to make this sound maudlin or boring. It isn’t. Murray is hysterically funny…. heartbreaking too, but very, very funny. The soundtrack is one of the best compilation tracks you’ll ever here. Anna Faris turns up in a very charmingly bizarre spin.

But the story here is Sofia Coppola. She shows an assurance with her subject that was hinted at, but not quite there on The Virgin Suicides. Like her brother, whose CQ was released last year, she is a naturalist behind the camera. They are both remarkably unlike their father in their tastes. But Sofia takes you into this world and truly feeds your mind and eyes. She makes it safe for you to take the journey. And while she will surely see her film take home numerous Independent Spirit Awards, there is a very good chance that her male lead will take home an Oscar for his career-best work. This is easily one of the best movies of the year.

READER OF THE DAY: CITIZEN’S BAND writes: “I'm sorry, but despite what your reader El Crow says, Gary Ross did not make a "smart" movie in "Seabiscuit." Was The Natural a "smart" movie? No, it was a rousing, sentimental, entertainment machine, and I loved it. And they're pretty much the same movie except "The Natural" had a darker side, which made Roy Hobbs' triumph seem more extraordinary. Other than loss, there's not a lot of nuanced darkness to "Seabiscuit." I feel that even Red Pollard's real life alcoholism, though not pretty or "likable" in a studio sense, would have rounded the character as less of a cardboard cutout and been one step towards making a more challenging, "smart" film. I feel like smart and challenging are one and the same - the director must present the audience with things that are not easy to digest and find a way to make the audience understand and empathize. "Seabiscuit" is dramatically obvious and heavy-handed, which to me is just as disappointing as any bad action movie this summer. Ross uses emotional beats and tugging of the heartstrings with the same obvious punch that Michael Bay uses car explosions and gunshots and special effects. Ultimately, without the level of acting talent in Maguire and Bridges and Cooper, "Seabiscuit" is a movie of the week at best. I want to enjoy Gary Ross films because I love that a filmmaker can exist in these irony-soaked times with his heart on his sleeve, but I wish that he were able to pull back just a bit and put a few more complexities of life on screen along with his Americana.”

And this from PETER’S VAN ENEMY: “Having just graduated college, I recently took a basic theory class that hit on all the major theorists - Kracauer, Bazin, Metz, etc. Because of the general nature of the course, we weren't able to go too in-depth into any one particular critic, but it didn't matter. I was bored to tears.

My problem with theory has always been that it simply sucks the fun out of being a film lover. There's no joy in it. It favors making politically-motivated or intellectually elite statements about the nature of the medium at the expense of creating a discussion about the movies themselves, to the point where it becomes not about film, but about the theorist.

Just because I hate film theory, however, I also understand that without it, the current film landscape would probably be quite a bit different than what it currently is. Eisenstein's theories on montage basically laid the groundwork for what film editing could achieve, and without the Realism vs. Formalism argument, we may never have had fictional narrative in film at all. Without the auteur theory, which is humanist at its core but still lumped in with all the other theory, it's possible that Hitchcock wouldn't be Hitchcock, and Citizen Kane might not be sitting atop every "greatest film" list that gets published. Like it or not, theory is a basic component of understanding how film works.

That being said, theory certainly shouldn't be emphasized at the expense of history, which is apparently what's been happening at the major film schools. People just aren't being taught to love movies. They're learning how to read a film, but not about the films themselves. They may understand what the Terminatrix represents as a signifier in T3, but they've probably never heard of Preston Sturges. They understand that there was once a raging debate over whether film should represent reality or fiction, but have they ever seen a Howard Hawks film?

For me, studying film is, has been, and always will be about the movies. Students wishing to go into the business should see and learn about as many films as they can, should be taught to respect the classics, and should gain as much perspective as they can about how films are made. Theory should just be a piece of the puzzle, not the puzzle itself.”

E ME: Are you ready for some Bill Murray?

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The Matrix Reloaded. Reloaded.
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