The Greatest Show on Earth?

Tomorrow Water for Elephants--the life-under-the-Big-Top depression-era movie with Reese Witherspoon and Edward Cullen--will be released on DVD. 

As a real life primer to the animal cruelty depicted in the film and book, check out this this investigation from Mother Jones about the disturbing practices that are still rampant at Ringling Brothers and the USDA's inability to charge the company with any violations.

Book Review: The Abbey (2011)

The Abbey, by first-time author Chris Culver, is one of those less-than-a-buck-from-Amazon-ebooks. I wasn't expecting much. What I got was a taut thriller that, despite a few missteps in the third act, could give Michael Connelly or Jeffrey Deaver a run for their money.

The book opens with Detective Sergeant Ash Rashid heading to the family home of a recent murder victim to deliver the bad news. He's gone through this scene dozens of times before. It never gets any easier--especially now that the victim is his 16-year-old niece, whose body was found in the guest house of one of the city's most wealthy families.

Ash, who happens to be Muslim, left homicide some time before (his back story is hinted at and would make an interesting story on its own) but is fed information about his niece's case from an old partner. When the head of the homicide division closes the case with a resolution that's a bit too neat for Ash to stomach, he opens his own off-the-books investigation revealing crooked cops, a vampire club that may be a front for a drug den, and a crazed doctor who takes a personal interest in Ash.

Culver does a good job of fleshing out Ash as more than just a cop, but as a devoted husband and father and a semi-devout, but trying, Muslim. Ash is constantly at odds trying to balance his faith with what he must sometimes so to get through his days on the job. He's a person with real flaws that don't hinder his work and home life, but do hint at a darker future.

The book moves at a fairly brisk and believable pace for the first two acts. In the third, things falter as the story begins to fold under the weight of its subplots becoming a bit convoluted and wrapping up the main action a little too neatly.

The main selling point of The Abbey is the writing. The Abbey, like the best books in the genre, isn't lyrical--the writing is crisp and efficient, making it easy to fall into and travel with the story.

The Abbey is an impressive debut novel. It's proof that, perhaps, some of the more interesting new writers are eschewing the traditional publishing model for self-distribution.

I'm looking forward to Cullver's follow-up (supposedly featuring the same characters), which is due out later this year.

Buy The Abbey for the Kindle

New to Theaters: 9/16/2011

Major releases this week include:

Drive
Directed by Nicolas Winding Refn
Starring: Ryan Gosling, Carey Mulligan, Bryan Cranston

Although, at first glance, it looks like a movie that might star Nicholas Cage in his post-Oscar action picture cash grab or as a soon-to-be cancelled series on Fox, Drive--starring Ryan Gosling as the Driver--is getting great reviews.

Gosling stars as an stuntman who spends his evenings as a getaway driver for armed heists. When his boss (played by Bryan Cranston of "Breaking Bad") gets in over his head to the local tough guys, the Driver gets involved with one of those "big score" jobs that define movies like this.

Rotten Tomatoes Rating: Very Fresh (sitting at 93%)

I Don't Know How She Does It
Directed by Douglas McGrath
Starring Sarah Jessica Parker, Pierce Brosnan, Kelsey Grammer

I read this book! I didn't care for the story much, but the writing was great so.... That doesn't help us here, does it?

Sarah Jessica Parker takes time off from looking disappointed with Matthew Broderick and lobbying for Sex in the City 3: Nudist Colony to star as Kate, a 30-something (who's SJP kidding?) wife, mother, and financial analyst. To the rest of the world, Kate looks like the perfect everything, but she's drowning in a sea of her own stress. It's supposed to be a comedy. I think.

Rotten Tomatoes Rating: Really Rotten (20% as of this writing)

Straw Dogs 
Directed by Rod Lurie
Starring James Marsden, Kate Bosworth, Alexander Skarsgard

The original Straw Dogs (1971; directed by Sam Peckinpah) is one of the more challenging movies I've ever seen. Love it or hate it, it uses violence deliberately to challenge the viewer's ideas on morality and vengeance. It's a film that every burgeoning movie buff should seek out.

That's why this remake puzzles me. There's absolutely no need for it. I'll acquiesce that there's little need for most remakes, but this one befuddles me. Peckinpah's film is near perfect and Dustin Hoffman, in the main role as a timid man pushed over the edge, is absolutely brilliant. I just don't buy that this version, from the director/writer of the short-lived TV series "Commander in Chief" (remember? Geena Davis as the first female President?) and starring the hot vampire from "True Blood", will be much to remember. I sort of hope I'm wrong. The premise alone deserves a storyteller's respect and I would hate for a younger generation to know it only through a deflated remake.

Rotten Tomatoes Rating: Rotten (Turns out I'm not wrong. Rent the original.)

My newest obsession: Desperate Housewives

Ever since I cancelled cable, I find myself becoming obsessed with TV shows I couldn't have been bothered to watch before. So now I don't engage in the brainless clicking that comes along with having cable, but rather focus on the long-game story of watching seasons of TV shows on Hulu or Netflix. I can't say I watch less TV, but I enjoy it more.

Over the last year, I've watched the entire run of "Bones", "Eureka", and "Haven." My husband and I are working our way through the new version of Battlestar Galactica (excellent). My not-so-secret current obsession is with "Desperate Housewives."

When Desperate Housewives premiered (around the time of LOST, I believe) I dismissed it. Not sure why. Maybe I thought it was one of those shows where whiny women sit around and complain about all that is wrong with their lives--as long as those problems focus on their weight or love lives.

To be sure, there's plenty of love life talk on Desperate Housewives--making it the soap opera it is--but it's what else it offers that makes the show so much fun and kind of meaningful.

The show begins with a mystery. On Wisteria Lane in Fairview, USA, there are six women--all friends and, often, enemies. In the first moments of the first episode, one of those women, Mary Alice, commits suicide. Her friends--former model Gabrielle, perfect wife and mother Bree, neurotic Susan, stressed-out stay-at-home mom Lynette, and town harlot Evie--are left wondering why and through the season work out the secrets their seemingly happy friend kept buried.

Thus begins the formula and theme of Desperate Housewives: everyone has secrets and the residents of Wisteria Lane have more than their fair share: murderous mothers-in-law, sex fetishes, kidnapped babies, fake pregnancies, sociopathic siblings....

During summers as a child, my mom and I would watch Young and the Restless. She loved her soaps and as much as I pretended to loathe them, it wasn't true. Everyone was rich and looked perfect, but was far from it. There was something about that that seemed almost...honest.

Desperate Housewives, like the Young and the Restless, takes "reality" and pumps it up to 11. As an adult, I can appreciate that even more. Day-to-day life can seem so mundane, but we all have things we're dealing with: careers, kids, relationships, personal issues. Most of the time we keep these bits about ourselves under wraps, sometimes even suffering in silence. Soapy shows, like Desperate Housewives, put these issues (admittedly exaggerated for effect) front and center. Some may watch and feel better that their own lives aren't as complicated; others may even take some level of comfort in seeing a version of life where the facade is stripped down.

While the people of Wisteria Lane are flawed, the show also does a good job of showing people at their best. A hand to hold. A shoulder to cry on. A hug from a friend.

Yup, Desperate Housewives is often silly. Convoluted. Teetering on desperate. But what keeps it from falling over the edge are main ladies of Wisteria Lane--all incredibly different, but in them attributes every woman can relate to.

PR Pro Tip: Don't lie to me.

This goes for clients to their publicists and publicists to the press and/or public. There's "spin" (a term I hate, by the way) and then there's lying. If you have to think about which you're doing, I assure you what's tripping off the tongue is an outright fabrication. Eventually the truth will be found out and we'll all end up looking untrustworthy (not to mention more than a little stupid).

New to Theaters: 8/19/2011

Major releases this week:

Conan the Barbarian
Directed by Marcus Nispel
Starring Jason Momoa, Mickey Rourke, Rose McGowan

In this remake of 80s classic (?), Conan is played by a man who looks disturbingly like a Klingon. I think the story is more or less the same: vengeful warrior with bulging muscles decides to become the savior for an oppressed nation. I'm pretty sure you can expect sword fights, a few pretty girls, and some loin cloths.

Rotten Tomatoes rating: Rotten

Fright Night
Directed by Craig Gillespie
Starring Colin Farrell, Anton Yelchin, Toni Collette

With this and Conan opening, clearly this is 80s remake week. While I was never a Conan fan, Fright Night was one of my favorites. I understand that this version is a bit more graphic, but the story is  the same: a mysterious stranger moves in next door to a suspicious teen and his single mother. The boy soon begins to suspect his neighbor is a vampire and enlists the help of his girlfriend, best friend, and a washed up horror star.

There are two things I want, nay need, from this remake: fun and Colin Farrell chewing up the scenery.

Rotten Tomatoes rating: Fresh

One Day
Directed by Lone Scherfig
Starring Anne Hathaway, Jim Sturgess

Based on a book that apparently a lot of people love, One Day follows two recent college graduates over the course of 20 years. They're polar opposites, yet hook up early on, and spend the next two hours playing "will they or won't they?"

Rotten Tomatoes rating: Rotten

Spy Kids: All the Time in the World in 4D
Directed by Robert Rodriguez
Starring Jessica Alba, Joel McHale, Jeremy Piven

Why? Seriously. Why?

And what in the name of all that is holy is 4D?

Rotten Tomatoes rating: Really, Really Rotten (0% as of this writing....clearly I'm not the only one asking 'why?')

Winning at Airport Security Bingo

This post was completed a few weeks back on a lonely business trip. Time clearly got away from me because I forgot to post it.

I had a plan. It was a good plan.

Today I flew for the first time since the infamous backscatter x-ray machines began working their way through our nation's airports. I had a speech prepared; one pulled from a website equally outraged at this silly attempt at security theater.

And then, for not the first time in my life, procrastination ruined my best laid plans.

Forty minutes to my flight. Security line snaked far past the ropes meant to contain it. Pre-prepared indignation put on hold.

I got to the front of the Phase One line. My friendly neighborhood TSA agent waved me over. I handed him my license and boarding pass. He was a younger short with one of those haircuts made popular by George Clooney and Matt Damon. I guess Jack Bauer had one too. Kinda.

He inspected my license. "Hey Ginger. How you doin'?" Like Joey from Friends. I want to call bullshit: he gets to crack jokes and I don't? Hardly seems fair. I made with my best "aren't you precious?" smile. That must have been what assured him I wasn't a terrorist. I wish he had told his co-workers.

I guess this is as a good a time as any to mention airports make me sweat. Not like Chris Farley or Kevin Smith sweat, but with all those bodies packed together, my natural inclination is to get a bit clammy. I've never had an out-of-body experience right at one of these special moments, but I have to imagine I don't look terribly comfortable.

Maybe that's why within a couple warm bodies of getting my laptop bag onto the security conveyer belt (Freedom--thar be up ahead!), one of Joey's TSA comrades set his eyes on me.

"Ma'am, you've been selected for additional screening."

"Excuse me?"

"Your hands. I need to swab your hands."

"Why?"

He looked nonplussed. I had deviated from the routine. For a brief second, my pre-prepared indignation did a happy dance.

"To ensure you have no materials on your person."

Let me translate: We need to make sure that between eating your bowl of Wheaties and driving to the airport this morning, you didn't decide to venture into a terrorist safe house to build a bomb.

Swabbing done. It was my turn at the backscatter. Yippee!

For those who haven't had the pleasure: you stand with your legs hip width apart holding your hands over your head with your thumbs and forefingers touching in a circle. Hold for eight seconds. TSA Yoga. DVD coming soon.

Completed with my dose of radiation, I was told to go two steps forward where a rather large woman had a surprise for me. Turns out I had won at Airport Security Bingo.

"Ma'am, you've been selected for additional screening."

I'd like to take a moment here to discuss use of the word "selected." I know that some of the greatest PR and branding minds the U.S. Government can afford probably sat around a table coming up with appropriate "soft" language; the kind of non-threatening verbiage that will put even a passenger with, say, a metric ton of explosives strapped to their genitals at ease. This word though drives me nuts though. It's too soft; too familiar. The TSA ain't Ed McMahon and a pat down isn't a really big check. I think we can all use a little honesty within this process.

I have to say--the pat down wasn't that bad. I won't be paying for the pleasure of Broomhilda (not her real name) anytime soon, but she was, shall we say, exceedingly gentle. She was almost clinical running her hands over me explaining her actions every step of the way. I was wearing a skirt and there wasn't even a hint of awkwardness there: she never went up, just lifted it slightly. Nice job, Sea-Tac.

The first leg of my journey was to Atlanta. My first single-serving friend (obligatory BILM movie reference) was a very nice man who looked and sounded a lot like Bill Engvall. I learned during our journey together that he was an airline pilot (so no "here's your sign" jokes then?) who had once flown commercial, but was now living and working in Japan flying private tours to Hawaii. A few minutes into the flight he fell asleep. Best single serving friend I've had in a while.

Things I've learned while traveling today:

• Delta Airlines has the least leg room of any carrier I have ever flown. On the upside, their flight attendants actually seem to give a shit. 
• I'm susceptible to suggestive sneezing. 
• Attendants cannot take garbage while serving beverages. 
• Delta's coffee: not bad. 
• Sea-Tac airport has this freakish mural on the large windows next to main C gates. It includes a couple in bed flanked by what looked like a unicorn and the cowardly lion. 

Dinner and a Couple of Movies: Pasta Al Pomodoro, The King's Speech, and Dogma

The Meal
On tonight's menu: Pasta Al Pomodoro, a slight variation from the cover recipe featured in this month's Bon Appetit. This is an insanely easy "scratch" sauce to make, but has enough flavor to make it seem like you spent hours slaving away in the kitchen. This recipe makes four servings. My husband and I were able to go back for seconds and had a bit left over for next-day lunch.

This paired nicely with bread sticks and a strong red wine.

3 tablespoons + 1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
1 minced medium onion
2 minced garlic cloves (this might make some cooks shudder, but I used a garlic press)
A pinch of crushed red pepper flakes
One 28 oz. can tomatoes, pureed in a food processor or blender
1 Italian chicken sausage (skin intact)
1 tablespoon dried basil (or 2 spring of fresh)
12 oz. dried spaghetti
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese
kosher salt


Heat 1 tablespoon EVOO in a small skillet on medium-low heat. Brown both sides of the sausage. Add 3 tablespoons of water, cover and let cook for 20 minutes, adding extra water as needed. Remove from heat. Slice sausage into bite-sized pieces.

Meanwhile, heat 3 tablespoons EVOO in large skillet or dutch oven over medium-low heat. Add onion and cook, stirring, until soft, about 10-12 minutes. Add the garlic and cook an additional 2-4 minutes. Add red pepper flakes and cook until combined, about 1 minute. Increase heat to medium, add pureed tomatoes, sliced sausage and season with kosher salt and basil; cook, stirring occasionally, until sauce thickens and flavors meld, about 20 minutes.

Meanwhile, cook spaghetti until al dente. Drain, reserving a 1/4 cup pasta cooking water. Stir in as much cooking water as needed to loosen sauce; bring to a boil. Add pasta and cook until sauce coats pasta. Remove pan from heat; add butter and Parmesan cheese. Toss until cheese melts. Add more cheese if desired.


The Movies

The King's Speech (2010)
Directed by Tom Hooper
Starring Colin Firth, Geoffrey Rush, Helena Bonham Carter
Rating: 9.5 out of 10

I've been slacking on my Academy Award nominees. I saw so little in the theater last year...thank goodness for Netflix and AppleTV!

But, alas, even then I seem to drag my feet getting to films I know I'll like. It's as if I'm taking them for granted: they become my go-to movies for when I need something that won't disappoint. Of course, occasionally, these cinematic "sure things" are anything but.

The King's Speech was a "sure thing."

If you're like me and are late to the party that's been draping accolades on this fine film, The King's Speech is a historical drama about King George VI's (Colin Firth) struggle to overcome his stammer using the methods of an unorthodox speech therapist, Lionel Logue (Geoffrey Rush). Yeah, it's a movie about speech therapy, but it focuses on the unlikely bond between two men from different walks of life. Before he becomes King, Prince Albert, Duke of York is the perfect austere picture of the monarchy save for his stammer, which is a constant source of humiliation and despair. His father (King George V) and his boorish brother don't understand why he can't just snap out of it. The only sympathetic figure in Prince Albert's life is his wife, Elizabeth (Helena Bonham Carter), who finds Logue after the traditional treatments, which are more like torture than medicine, fail to work. Prince Albert is trapped, terrified and alone in his suffering; Lionel eventually gives him the tools to find his way out.

All the performances are top-notch, but Colin Firth is mesmerizing as Prince Albert/King George VI.  Prince Albert is caught between a world that teaches him that by birth he's better than others and having to rely on a "commoner" to help him become who he was meant to be. It's not an easy role to play and in the hands of a lesser actor, Prince Albert might have been wholly unlikeable, a prig unable to step down from his gilded cage. But even in moments of angry outburst, Firth  manages to show Prince Albert for the sad, scared man he is--a man who has accepted who he was born to be, but desperately yearns to be better than he is.

I remember reading some time back that Queen Elizabeth claimed to have never seen The Queen--the excellent movie where Dame Helen Mirren plays Her Highness in the days after the death of Princess Diana. I never quite believed that; if someone plays you in a movie, I can't imagine that your curiosity wouldn't eventually get the best of you. While The Queen was sympathetic in its portrayal, it wasn't always kind.

The King's Speech, however, is a love letter to King George VI's--Queen Elizabeth's father--courage and tenacity.  The Queen apparently has seen it and said she was "moved." Apparently, Queen Elizabeth's mother had requested screenwriter David Seidel not make the film until after her death because she felt it would be too painful to watch. In these days of tell-alls and the tearing down of popular figures, the respect shown the family and the film's subjects makes me love The King's Speech all the more.

Dogma (1999)
Directed by Kevin Smith
Starring Ben Affleck, Matt Damon, George Carlin, Alan Rickman, Linda Fiorentino
Rating: 8 out of 10

We decided to celebrate the non-Rapture with another viewing of Kevin Smith's controversial Dogma.

I first heard about Dogma on release because of the protests it raised around the country. The film was distributed by Lions Gate, who purchased the film after Disney and Smith supporter Miramax succumbed to pressure by groups like The Catholic League. The filmmakers received over 300,000 pieces of hate mail, including several death threats.

So was all the hoopla justified? As is often the case, no. This isn't to say the film isn't good--it remains one of my favorites in the Smith cannon--but there's nothing in it that should so easily rankle the ire of the religious. Smith is a Catholic, grew up going to Sunday school and has clearly spent a fair amount of time reading The Bible. With Dogma, he takes this knowledge and turns it into a raucous fantasy about a possible scenario for the end of the existence.

The thing is Smith is exceedingly respectful to the source material. Dogma could have been an exercise in questioning the morality and intelligence of those who believe in God (as so many films with pious characters do), but that's far from the case here.  Where he does takes some pokes is at the Church, which is a creation of Man, rather than God directly. Smith's beef, if he has one, is with Man's interpretation of God's word and ideas, rather than in whether The Big Guy (or Girl) actually exists.

Smith, with Chasing Amy and the recent and excellent Red State, has shown the ability to take high level concepts and distill them down--sometimes too far down for many viewers' tastes. While every Smith film has its share of sex jokes and swear words, there's always an emotional intelligence to the characters and the story that can be tough for those fixated on the profanity to see. Dogma follows in this vein: Loki, The Angel of Death did God's bidding until his friend and fellow angel Bartleby questioned the morality of killing humans. In a drunken stupor, Loki, quits his job causing God to banish both angels out of Heaven to spend all of eternity in Wisconsin (another side effect: angels can no longer imbibe in alcohol). We join Loki and Bartleby as they discover a loop hole in dogmatic law: a church in New Jersey is celebrating a rebranding campaign with plenary indulgence, an idea in Catholic theology that acquits the punished for sins already forgiven. If they can get to the church and become mortal (which for an angel means removing their wings), they can pass into Heaven. One problem: all of existence relies on God being infallible. If these two are able to defy His decree, existence will be negated.

With me so far?

Because apparently God likes Skeet Ball and travels out of Heaven once a month to play, He isn't around to take care of the Loki/Bartleby problem. The Voice of God, aka the Metatron, asks for the help of The Last Scion, a Planned Parenthood employee who has been questioning the existence of God since her husband left  because she couldn't bear his children. Reluctantly she agrees to travel to New Jersey and is given aid in the form of two bumbling prophets (Jay and Silent Bob) and the 13th Apostle, who claims he was left out of The Bible because he's black.

Dogma looks like a typical Smith film, which is to say it's pretty unremarkable. Where it shines--as all Smith movies shine--is in the story and dialog. It would have been easy to get mired down in minute details to try and prove a connection to God and faith or go so far to the other end of the spectrum making it near impossible to take seriously. Dogma strikes a delicate balance between using components of the Catholic religion to tell the story without being the story. Smith respects the mythology, but isn't afraid to bend it to suit the purposes of where he wants to go. In some ways Dogma could be seen as a parable for how Man uses religion, melding it and the message to suit specific purposes.

Dogma is a harmless and fun film. It doesn't aspire to uplift or inform, but it also isn't anything the religiously righteous should run from. Religion through the eyes of Kevin Smith is simply a path that one can choose to follow or not. He understands the big questions of faith and existence, but doesn't try to answer them--this isn't the movie for it and he realizes that those aren't his questions to answer.

Bad News: No Rapture

It doesn't look like The Rapture is going to happen. It's like the news of a fourth Spiderman movie: all that build-up and then...nothing.

What I still can't wrap my mind around is why so much faith (excuse the pun) and airtime was given over to an 89-year-old ex-engineer turned "family" (read "Christian") radio station owner who used a series of convoluted calculations to predict the end of the world. If you read his "proof" (it's on his website and I don't care to promote him more in providing a link), it's based around random dates during biblical times and the number 23. You remember the number 23, don't you? Yes, a terrible movie in which Jim Carrey goes emo, but also a number doomsday whack-a-doos have been hanging their hats on for decades.

I wonder about the people who bought in to this "prophecy." Sadly I'm even loosely connected to someone who quit his job in preparation. On the front page of Reddit this morning, one of the top stories is a personal account of someone saving a German Shepard puppy from owners who wanted it put down before Jesus showed up. I wonder how many others quit their jobs, left their families, gave away their possessions for the coming of something that logic says isn't likely...even if you believe that the Rapture at some point is even a possibility.

I wish there was some real-world punishment that could be wrought on on our doomsday soothsayer. If he really believed his own hooey, one might think that would be punishment enough. No Jesus on a chariot to bring the believers to Heaven; he as the right-hand given his prediction to humanity. No fire and brimstone for the heathens.

But our non-hero has been here before making a similar end-of-times prediction in 1994. The sad truth is he'll do it again if given the chance. He may be concerned about his own salvation, but clearly he likes the attention too. The fact we gave so much to him when there's real news happening says more about us than it does about him and his followers. I heard more this week about the coming Rapture than I did about either President Obama's speech in Egypt or Queen's Elizabeth's visit to Ireland and those events are, you know. real.

I suppose the Rapture is an easier story though. People understand The End of Days. After all there's a movie with Arnold Schwarzenegger (the subject of an equally silly, heavily reported Baby Mama story from this week) for easy reference. Besides despair breeds despair and there's nothing like God and his power to smite the non-believers as the ultimate Magic Bullet to life's problems.

I fear this won't be the last we hear about the Rapture coming to a neighborhood near you. The only good news is the centerpiece of this failed attempt is 89 years old. Time isn't on his side. He may not get another shot at scaring the shit out of us. That's okay--we're pretty good at doing it to ourselves.

Portal 2: First Impressions

"I think you have a very mild case of serious brain damage."

I'm about six hours into Portal 2 and, unless the game takes a drastic, horrifying turn (which I doubt), it could end up becoming one of my favorites of all time. 

If you haven't played the original Portal--what are you waiting for? The concept is simple: you wake up in hygienic starkness to a disembodied voice telling you that your blood work is back and good news! The testing can proceed. 

The "testing" involves a series of puzzles masquerading as chamber rooms. The only tools you're given to complete these tests are a gun that allows you to create two portals at any one time (one to enter, the other to exit) and weighted cubes. 

Your tests are monitored by an AI known as GLaDOS (Genetic Lifeform Disc Operating System), who, by the end has, well, gone a wee bit crazy. 

Portal 2 opens after your defeat of GLaDOS. You've been "resting" in the care of Aperture Laboratories, the company who runs the portal tests all in the name of science. Soon your slumber is permanently interrupted by what appears to be the arrival of Armageddon and a robot named Wheatley (hilariously voiced by Stephen  Merchant) who gets you back into the testing chamber as a means of escape. 

As with the original Portal, the puzzles in Portal 2 start off fairly simply, letting the player get the feel for using all the tools at their disposal. I'll often start each room with a couple minutes of just looking around, trying to get my bearings and attempting to recognize the design cues (slanted walls, portal-friendly pieces high up or on the ground, etc) that are scattered throughout. 

This time around new elements, such as lasers and sky bridges, are introduced. Smart move--these make the puzzles feel fresh and new even to power Portal players. Later in the game, chemical compounds that provide the player unique abilities become available. While I loved the new design elements, these waterfalls of chemical goo, which allow a player to do things like jump like Tigger or cheetah sprint, have been my least favorite part of the game so far. It's a minor quibble really that's more about my ability to adjust when solving the puzzles than the inclusion of the goo. 

But even if I get frustrated occasionally at goo deployment, the dialog and voice acting are more than enough to keep me portal-ing through. Wheatley is a brilliant little companion with several seriously laugh-out-loud lines. When GLaDOS finally returns (oh you knew she would...), she proves to be far snarkier than when you last met. Disgruntled over the fact that you, well, killed her, she becomes the queen of the back-handed compliment, insulting you every chance she gets. 

A few twists and turns that come at what feels like the mid-way point change alliances and the course of the story to introduce the President of Aperture, Cave Johnson (perfectly voiced by JK Simmons). Cave's appearance marks a significant shift in the look of the game, which at first glance feels a lot like Bioshock. The good news is the game never strays too far from its core concept and simply uses these new elements to move along the story and game play. 

As the best possible testament I can give to any game: I'm excited to log back in and see what happens next. The puzzles are interesting, the game looks great, and the dialog is silly, but sublime.There's no doubt I will be flummoxed, but the secret to Portal 2 is that frustration can be a heck of a good time.  

And I haven't even touched co-op play yet....

Nothing to see here...

But a picture of Tilda Swinton:

She's awesome, isn't she?

The End of Cinematical

Since I've had access to the Internet, I've been using it to read about movies. At one point or another, I began dabbling in writing about film, but for whatever reason--time, talent, take your pick--I could never do it quite as well as the film bloggers I loved to read on sites like /Film, CinemaBlend, or Cinematical.

Today, one of those sites has shuffled off its mortal coil. I'm very sad to write that Cinematical is no more.

A casualty of the AOL/Huffington Post merger, Cinematical's last days were spent in chaos with little communication between the new parent company and long-time Cinematical editors and contributors, many of whom jumped shipped right around the point they were sent an email saying they would likely be fired, but would be welcome to work for free.

I won't go into all the gory details. As someone who makes a living writing, it just makes me too damn sad. For those interested, former Cinematical writer Eric D. Snider's blog post about the debacle is essential reading.

While new AOL Overlord Arianna Huffington (a woman I once admired) has said she plans to hire full-time staffers to write for and manage the site, Cinematical's last post--about Blake Lively's upcoming work on Oliver Stone's "The Savages"--is dated April 12. There's no farewell post or update to readers as to why a site that was known for posting new content several times a day is in a coma. I suppose there might be no need: the fans already know. It bothers me though that this is the last breath of what was one of the first and best movie blogs.

So, even though none of them will likely ever read this, I want to thank the editors, writers, and staff of Cinematical for their outstanding work over the years. I didn't read Cinematical just for the reviews and commentary--I read it for the people who, through their great writing and insight, gave Cinematical a heart and a voice worth coming back for.

If Cinematical is somehow reanimated with a group of drones willing to sell their souls to work for The Overlord, it will be a shadow of its former self. I have no doubt and less interest.

R.I.P. Cinematical. You will be missed.

Oh, how I love Joss Whedon.

At this moment, I'm sitting on my couch wrapped in a slightly-too-big sweatshirt (adorned with the chemical formula for caffeine--thanks ThinkGeek!) re-watching episodes of Angel.

I should say, I love Angel.

And David Boreanaz.

And Buffy.

And Firefly. I really love Firefly.

Then, of course, there's Nathan Fillion.

 

This post was, in fact, an excuse to post a picture of Nathan Fillion.  Thank you for your indulgence.

The Hypocrisy of Dealing with Charlie Sheen

This is obviously the face of a cracked-out mess, but I do find it curious that he was allowed to keep his job on a hit family sitcom while:

• Having charges brought against him for beating his wife.
• Trashing a hotel room in a rage after thinking a hooker he was with had stolen his wallet and watch. Said "contractor" looked herself in the bathroom fearing for her life.
• Spending $500,000 on drugs and prostitutes over the past six months.
• Going on a 36-hour drug and porn star spree, which landed him in the hospital.

He's been unrepentant about all this as he has been about his ongoing drug use and regular solicitation of prostitutes (including earning a place in the Heidi Fleis All-Star Club).

All of the above, totally fine if you're on a #1 rated sitcom about two brothers and one of their little boys. That families watch. That makes a ton of money. Need to lay everyone on set off (who make a fraction of what Sheen does, incidentally) so he can go to rehab? No worries. Just dandy. Sheen can even speak to the UCLA college baseball team while he's supposedly in said-rehab and tell them to don't do crack, unless they can handle it.

BUT the minute Sheen insults the show's creator off-set, on the radio? No more show.

I mean admittedly his rants were way over the top and insane (I mean, really, Vatican Assassin Warlocks? Everyone knows the Vatican only employs vampires.). But, after all he's done, why would you expect anything else? This is the man who believes that 9/11 was a controlled explosion.

This all just seems so completely fucked up, doesn't it?

This just in: Charlie Sheen is shopping a book. He wants $10 million.

60 Second Review: Unstoppable (2010)

Directed by Tony Scott
Starring Denzel Washington, Chris Pine, Rosario Dawson
Score: 8 out of 10

The star of Unstoppable is a runaway train that stretches a half-mile and is filled with an explosive, unstable compound that, if detonated, can take out several square miles.

Enter Captain Kirk (Chris Pine) and Denzel Washington to save the day.

Washington plays a 28-year veteran to the railway system and Pine is his cocky, young trainee. The two don't get along at first, but have to put aside their differences to stop the fugitive train from destroying the town in which Pine's character's entire family lives.

Needless to say, Unstoppable is a bit formulaic. Okay. More than a bit.

With action films, I'm okay with "formula" but it has to be good enough to pull me into the story, make me suspend what I know to be true. The logical part of my brain, which has been conditioned from years of watching movies directed by Tony Scott and Jerry Bruckheimer, knows that no one important (to the plot of the film) will die and tragedy will be averted. A good suspense action film will flip on the emotional side of my brain--the part that makes me cringe at house spiders and believes there's an axe murderer in the woods outside my house--causing me to tense up and actually fear for the worse. It's like being on a roller coaster--you know the chances are slim the car will skip the track and you'll go plummeting to your death, but the it's the slightest hint of disaster that makes the ride all the more fun.

That's the best compliment I can pay to a movie like Unstoppable--I knew everything would be fine, but the film's intensity allowed me to, as they say, suspend my disbelief about a runaway train hurling itself like a missile at a sleepy Pennsylvania town.

Unstoppable is now available on DVD and as an iTunes rental. 

60 Second Review: Unknown (2011)

Directed by Jaume Collet-Serra
Starring Liam Neeson, January Jones, Diane Kruger
Score: 2 out of 10

I love Liam Neeson.

I hated Unknown.

I'll concede to the potential of its concept: a husband and wife travel to Berlin for a conference. Upon arriving at the hotel, the husband, Dr. Martin Harris (Neeson), realizes he has left his satchel, which contains his wallet and passport, back at the airport. Without telling his wife (January Jones, who is terrible here for the same reasons she's great on 'Mad Men'), Harris hails a cab and heads back to find his lost luggage.

On the way, a refrigerator falls off a truck causing a chain reaction accident that ends with the cab flying into bone-chilling waters. Harris suffers a nasty bump on the noggin that leaves him in a coma for four days. When he regains consciousness, he's understandably worried about his wife, but with her, he also meets the man (Aidan Quinn) who has moved into his life and now claims to be Martin Harris.

For the first hour of Unknown's  entirely-too-long two hour running time, not much happens save for Neeson running around claiming to be the real Dr. Harris. People tell him he's not. He insists he is. Rinse, repeat.

When Neeson's Harris finally enlists the services of a private investigator who was once a member of East Germany's Stasi, things perk up a bit. This is clearly a character with a past, but with the exception of one scene, his presence is squandered--as is Frank Langella, who shows up to give the film its big reveal. I'll give some kudos to the twist, which on first blush is quite ingenious, but by the time you find out who the real Martin Harris is, the film is so flawed, nothing can save it.

Unknown is now in theaters. 

BILM Favorites: The Breakfast Club (1985)

I was 11 the first time I saw The Breakfast Club.

My brother (who was 8 at the time) and I were in the living room. My parents had retreated to their bedroom. I had bribed my brother into watching Showtime--it cost me three dollars to watch The Breakfast Club during the channel's Saturday night premiere.

Before the film, which was introduced by Leonard Maltin, Showtime promoted their weekly trivia contest. That week's question: How much does John Bender bet that Claire is still a virgin? At 11, the question made me blush.

I had wanted to see The Breakfast Club in theaters, but while my parents never cared much about what I saw or did, there was no way they were going to take me, so I bided my time and kept my eye on the movie channels, which were newly minted in our sleepy, suburban neighborhood.

To be honest, I had a bit of a crush on Emilio Estevez. I can't remember what movie this started with or if my infatuation came from The Breakfast Club's iconic poster (which was shot by a young Annie Leibovitz). In any case, I'm sure I'm one of many who flocked to the film that would make its young leads bonafied stars because of teenage (or in my case, pre-teen) lust.

By the end of the film, my crush had switched to Judd Nelson, I knew the answer to Showtime's trivia question (a million dollars), and I fell in love with film.

In some ways, I wish I could say it was Citizen Kane or Gone With the Wind that led me down the path of film appreciation. That would sound more sophisticated, but it wouldn't be true. To this day, while I can appreciate the cinematic merits of both those films and countless other classics, The Breakfast Club still moves me, speaks to me. The Breakfast Club was the first film I had ever seen that felt like it was made for me. While there was a lot my 11-year-old self didn't quite get (When Bender says the seminal line "Calvins in a ball in the back seat past 11 on a school night", I wondered who Calvin was and why he was in a ball.), I recognized its honesty and the raw emotion laid bare by the film's leads. It was the first time I remember appreciating not only film making, but just how powerful great acting can be.

Sure, it's not perfect. There are scenes that feel inauthentic--Andrew Clark's drug induced dance mania (I don't know about you--but pot makes me sleepy) and Allison's make-over. On this last scene, I've always been conflicted--I love when she's finally brave enough to come out from behind her impossible bangs and the if-looks-could-kill glare she gives to Brian when he stares up at her, shocked. When he breaks into a smile, her sharpness fades and she simply says, "Thank you." That's the ultimate for this not-quite-broken girl, long ignored by her parents and society. It's perfect on that emotional level, but the idea that Allison should have a make-over in a film that is, on some level, about accepting who you are feels false.

The Breakfast Club changed cinema. It, along with other films by Hughes and his contemporaries, helped usher in a new day in "teen" cinema. These movies didn't rely on gross-out jokes or tits & ass; instead they spoke honestly to their audiences in a way that not only affected teens but made adults remember what it was like to be young, confused, and often, misunderstood.

I revisit The Breakfast Club once every few months. Usually when I'm sick or have had a tough day. It always welcomes me back and when Bender pumps his fist in the air just as the first beat of Simple Minds' "Don't You Forget About Me" begins the credits, I know it's always going to be okay to be a brain, a jock, a basket case, a princess, or a criminal.

Ever browsed through Blogger?

I just did. What's with all the fitness and "if I post my diet goals here I'll stay honest" blogs? Needless to say a lot of them haven't seen a recent post in years. Guess the diet didn't work out....

Review: The Social Network (2010)

Directed by David Fincher
Starring Jesse Eisenberg, Andrew Garfield, Justin Timberlake
Rating 5 out of 10

According to a lot of the rest of the world, The Social Network is the best movie of the year.

I'm having a hard time understanding why.

The Social Network is the story of Facebook or, more to the point, the site's creator Mark Zuckerberg, who, if the movie is to be believed, is a misogynistic, Type A with more work ethic than compassion.

According to the film, Zuckerberg (Jesse Eisenberg) isn't good with girls. Frankly, he isn't much good with anyone--male or female. The movie opens with him and his girlfriend (Rooney Mara) sharing a beer at a local bar. He goes to Harvard and, as he points out with contempt, she's a student at Boston University. In other words, to his mind, he's slumming it. Perhaps that's why he doesn't notice her frustration at his self-possessed rant against the Harvard club system. She takes a sip of her beer, comes to her senses and dumps him before the opening credits appear. Like a lot of college guys, Zuckerberg deals with this perceived injustice by drinking. Unlike a lot of guys, he blogs while he drinks. After indelicately comparing women to farm animals (wait...is there a delicate way to do that?) he creates a site called FaceMash, which allows anyone with Internet access to judge the physical assets of Harvard's female co-eds against one another.

This little stunt, which generates so much traffic that it ends up immobilizing Harvard's network, catches the attention of three upperclassmen, including the creepy Winklevoss twins, who ask Zuckerberg to help build a campus social networking site called HarvardConnect.

Zuckerberg takes the idea and runs with it...as his own. Several weeks later, he launches called The Facebook.

Dashed hopes, failed expectations, multi-million dollar lawsuits, and a manic Sean Parker (played with glee by Justin Timberlake) follow. Just another day in the life of Facebook. Here's the rub though: I hated every single person in this movie and I'm pretty sure that wasn't an accident. The Social Network is like a drama that might play out in wall posts on Facebook. The betrayal! The deceit! The backstabbing!

The movie does do a good job of showing these kids as a part of a generation that has been conditioned to believe in how special, unique and deserving they are. A little like Facebook I suppose. You have to be a little arrogant to believe that your "friends" actually care about what you ate for lunch. Of course, arrogance is often a personality trait in great leaders, but I would be shocked to find that Zuckerberg is as atrocious a communicator as this film makes him out to be.

And that leads me to the biggest problem with The Social Network: a lot of it simply isn't true. Of course, a nugget of the truth exists--Zuckerberg was sued by the Winklevoss twins as well as his business partner Eduardo Saverin after Zuckerberg creatively and cruelly pushed Saverin out of the company. Many facts though, such as the opening break-up scene that supposedly inspired Zuckerberg's social media creationist ways, are patently false.

Based off the book The Accidental Millionaires, so many liberties are taken with the real story of Facebook's founding that it can hardly even be labeled as "based on a true story" and interestingly, it's not. Sorkin has admitted in a number of interviews while promoting the film that he took a fair amount of license for dramatic flair. Yet, he still chose to use Zuckerberg's name...and Saverin's and Parker's. Of course, all this subterfuge didn't hurt anyone: The Social Network was a huge hit and made Zuckerberg TIME's Man of the Year. The last time I checked Facebook was continuing to grow on 500 million users. And, maybe, I have to wonder--was that the whole point of The Social Network?

At the end of The Social Network, I felt like I had just watched a magic trick. An aptly directed (though I don't agree this is David Fincher's best film--Zodiac is far better in every way), well-written one, but a magic trick nonetheless. The Social Network isn't much more than a two-hour behind-the-scenes infomercial for Facebook. Sure, the Eisenberg version of Zuckerberg may come off as abrasive, but he's hard working and earnest. The lie that begins the entire charade (remember the girlfriend in the bar?) comes around in the end to give Zuckerberg a shot at redemption--through the power of Facebook.

I didn't hate The Social Network, but I didn't much like it either. It feels like a ruse; a movie that was supposed to expose the dirty underbelly of Facebook but instead had all the bite of a gossip website--albeit one that helped with brand recognition.

I would hate to see The Social Network win Best Picture at this year's Academy Awards. People may try and use words like "scathing" to describe Zuckerberg's portrayal, but I would argue that it and a lot else about The Social Network are shallow. The film is less about Facebook and more about the mythology of Zuckerberg. The Social Network is like a page on Facebook--it's all about personal promotion making it hard to figure out what exactly is the truth.

60 Second Review: The Parking Lot Movie

Directed by Meghan Eckman
Rating: 6 out of 10

The Parking Lot Movie is about a corner parking lot behind a strip of bars and restaurants near the University of Virgina campus. More to the point, this documentary is about the men who work there.

Looking at the job and the experience through the eyes of  20+ years worth of employees, we learn that it takes a special kind of person to appreciate and do well the not-much-to-do-ness job of being a parking lot attendant. Some say the rude customers and ample down time allowed them to reflect on their place in the world; others--namely anthropology students--think of working the small booth as field work.

What they all have in common is a disdain for their customers' owners (the customers being the cars). This revulsion for snotty sorority girls, wasted frat boys and their condescending parents (who drive ever increasingly rotund SUVs) seems to increase every day, every hour while on the job.

As strange as it sounds, The Parking Lot Movie is a love letter to a parking lot and the its owner who does his level best to instill in his employees a feeling that they have power over this little paved corner of the world. What The Parking Lot Movie does best though is serve as a reminder to not judge a book by its cover--people with simple jobs are rarely simple people.

Why I Admire Kevin Smith

On Sunday, writer/director/podcast star/entrepreneur Kevin Smith’s new film, Red State opened at the Sundance Film Festival. Initial reactions to the film have been mixed, but most agree that the political/horror film is unlike anything Smith has done to date.

For weeks, Internet movie bloggers—those folks who somehow make a living at it—have been dissecting Smith’s tweets and came to the conclusion he was planning to auction off the film immediately after the screening. How much would it go for? Would the film, which stars Academy Award frontrunner Melissa Leo, open immediately? How would Smith fare at Sundance over 15 years after getting his start there with Clerks?

It turned out Smith had another trick up his sleeve: he sold Red State—to himself. He then announced he would tour the film this spring to 12 large venues across the country with the goal of making back at least half of the film’s slightly less than $4 million cost. Red State will open to a wider audience in October under the distribution of his own studio. Oh, and he announced after his next film—a love letter to hockey called Hit Somebody—that he would retire from directing to help others get their movies made.

The reason Smith is doing this is simple: whether you love or hate his films, there’s little argument that he’s an old school independent filmmaker. He’s efficient. His films often cost less than $5 million. You don’t hear about his shoots going over schedule or budget. In this day and age, that’s an anomaly. Every project is a labor of love and Red State is no exception.

In the typical studio formula, a filmmaker’s control usually ends when the film is complete leaving the studio’s marketing department to promote and advertise it any way they want. Who of us hasn’t been lured into the theater by a deceptive trailer? Add to all this, national marketing and advertising campaigns cost several times more than what a Kevin Smith movie does. So Red State, which wrapped at about $4 million, in the hands of a traditional distribution house would likely have to make $15-30 million to break even. By selling the film off, Smith may make his initial investment back, but the chances of the film being seen as a financial failure would be greatly increased (the typical Kevin Smith film makes about $30 million). Plus, he would give up creative control on a project he has spent several years languishing over.

To Smith, these numbers and facts simply don’t add up.

After Smith announced his plans for Red State, some bloggers and entertainment reporters missed the point. There were Twitter rants and rages over Smith’s perceived subterfuge. They wanted an auction! They wanted bloodshed! They wanted to go back to their safe corners and speculate if Red State would be the joke Cop-Out has become! Instead they got an idea. Parts of it aren’t groundbreaking (indies like Bubba Ho-Tep have toured the country before), but others (Smith retiring to throw his indie cred and expertise at a studio to help others break into filmmaking) are at least interesting and have the potential to create a ripple effect in the independent world. That’s a good thing. While plenty of truly independent films still exist, many touring the larger festivals are just Big Studio productions packaged under sub-house names. This isn’t to say these offerings aren’t any good, but they aren’t ‘independent’ in the spirit of the word.

I have my doubts that Smith can pull off what he is proposing on a wide scale (that is, on films other than his own), but it’s exciting he’s trying. Smith, again and again, has proven that his art is his passion. Sometimes that art takes the form of two guys hanging out in front of a convenience store or an archangel trying to find a loophole back into Heaven, but, as they say, art is subjective—it’s to the viewer to decide whether it has merit. And to Smith’s credit, he has always owned who he is—a film fan with a blue streak and a working class background with a penchant for writing dialogue. Despite his detractors (and if the Internet is to be believed…he has many), Smith has built a tidy career for himself. He tries new things (Red State; directing a studio picture he didn’t write with Cop-Out), but, ultimately, stays true to who he is and who he knows his fans want him to be.

The other fascinating thing about Smith is how completely accessible he is—something that, for him, I imagine can be a blessing and a curse. He waged a very public war (with his over 1.5 million followers not always coming down on his side) with SouthWest Airlines last year in “Too Fat to Fly”-gate. He spills the beans on just about everything in his life—from how he met his future wife to being intimidated by Bruce Willis while shooting Cop-Out—in hilarious Q&As he holds around the country. He has built a podcast network—called Smodcast—with popular offerings hosted by Smith and others from the View Askew universe. He once protested his own film (Dogma) claiming to be offended by it even though he had never seen it. For the premiere of Red State at Sundance, he riled up members of the Westborough Baptist Church (which the villains in the film are based upon) so they would come and picket. Like in his films, Smith likes poking fun at the seriousness of life by making a joke of almost everything.

Smith is the P.T. Barnum of the film world and I don’t mean that as an insult. He’s a master of promotion and has continued to work seemingly on his own terms. He owns his reputation—whether that’s as a celebrated young auteur at Sundance or the guy who got thrown off an airplane. He doesn’t apologize, but he has the potential to surprise—and that’s what he did this past Sunday. Kevin Smith is his own industry; his own reality show.

I, for one, am looking forward to what happens next.

Will Smith is remaking 'Annie'

My mom was a big fan of musicals. Dad had westerns; mom had musicals. Think Sound of Music, Paint Your Wagon, Oklahoma, West Side Story. When we bought our laser disc player, she played these and anything from Leonard & Bernstein in a seemingly endless loop. The only one I could stomach was Annie.

Now Will Smith wants to ruin my childhood.

Okay, maybe that's not fair, but I'm not too hopeful.

Smith, through his production house Overbrook Entertainment, is remaking Annie for--wait for it--his 9-year-old daughter, Willow. She will play Annie. She of Whip My Hair fame.

Jay-Z, who produced Willow's single, will be involved in the music for the film. Clearly, I think this means It's a Hard Knock Life will sound a bit different. Maybe more like this?

I am not hopeful.

It's that time of the year...

The nominees for the 83rd Academy Awards were announced this morning. I have seen shockingly few of the nominated films. Like not even Social Network and that's embarrassing to admit because, well, you know.

Here are a list of the nominees from the major categories:

Best Picture
Black Swan
The Fighter
Inception
The Kids Are All Right
The King's Speech
127 Hours
The Social Network
Toy Story 3
True Grit
Winter's Bone


My Uneducated Take: I like that they gave a token nod to Toy Story 3, but token is all it is. It won't (and, in my opinion, shouldn't) win. Despite Inception being a huge hit, I don't think it'll go home with the top prize. My money's on Black Swan or The Social Network.

Best Director
Darren Aronofsky for Black Swan
David O. Russell for The Fighter
Tom Hooper for The King's Speech
David Fincher for The Social Network
Joel Coen and Ethan Coen for True Grit

My Uneducated Take: I would bet on Aronofsky, although I'd like to see Fincher win. It might kinda sorta make up for the Academy completely snubbing the fabulous Zodiac. Okay, not really.

Best Actor
Javier Bardem in Biutiful
Jeff Bridges in True Grit
Jesse Eisenberg in The Social Network
Colin Firth in The King's Speech
James Franco in 127 Hours

My Uneducated Take: Jeff Bridges was great in True Grit, but he won last year and I don't see him pulling a Tom Hanks. Too few people have seen Biutiful and 127 Hours. This is Eisenberg's first nomination and he's young so I don't see him winning. I think this is Colin Firth's to lose.

Best Supporting Actor
Christian Bale in The Fighter
John Hawkes in Winter's Bone
Jeremy Renner in The Town
Mark Ruffalo in The Kids Are All Right
Geoffrey Rush in The King's Speech

My Uneducated Take: Bale. He won the Golden Globe and has the kind of body of work voters like to reward. This isn't to say there can't or won't be an upset. Bale certainly has his detractors. If not Bale, I'd love to see Jeremy Renner or Geoffrey Rush win.

Best Actress
Annette Benning in The Kids Are All Right
Nicole Kidman in Rabbit Hole
Jennifer Lawrence in Winter's Bone
Natalie Portman in Black Swan
Michelle Williams in Blue Valentine


My Uneducated Take: I'd love to see Michelle Williams win. We should reward films that aren't afraid to be honest. Alas, I think he nomination is simply a token. The frontrunner here is likely Natalie Portman, who won the Golden Globe and with whom Hollywood is in the middle of a love affair.

Best Supporting Actress
Amy Adams in The Fighter
Helena Bonham Carter in The King's Speech
Melissa Leo in The Fighter
Hailee Steinfeld in True Grit
Jacki Weaver in Animal Kingdom

My Uneducated Take: Jacki Weaver is the surprise here. She won't win. Why is Hailee Steinfeld nominated in a supporting role when she was in 90% of the film? She was fabulous and could win ala Anna Pacquin in The Piano. I hope Leo and Adams don't cancel each other out as sometimes happens when multiple nominees are in the same category from the same film. Considering all the love around The King's Speech, Helena Bonham Carter could easily take this one.

A couple of snubs that come to mind: I would have like to have seen more love for The Town. Ben Affleck deserved a little thrown his way. Aren't we over hating him yet?

Also, I know it's been a strong acting year, but what about the Keira Knightley and Carrey Mulligan from Never Let Me Go? Or even Andrew Garfield for that matter.

Speaking of the next Spiderman...no acting nods (other than Eisenberg) for The Social Network? I bet Justin Timberlake (who I understand was great) is sad.

Over the next few weeks I plan on catching up with my movie watching and will try to post thoughts as they come to me!

I now have another reason to hate Comcast.

In 2010, I became a movie- and TV-loving, news junkie without TV. It's not that I wanted to "cut the cord." I'm not one of those people. I love watching TV. I love mindlessly flipping channels. I love all the world of bad reality TV. I love all the cable news networks--even Fox.

What ended my relationship with traditional television (six months and counting...) was a year-long fight with Comcast. I won't get into the gory details, but will offer three pieces of advice if you're a customer of Xfinity, Comcast, Con-artists, X-Men, or whatever they're calling themselves these days:

1.) Always ask if the rate they're offering you is a special. Don't trust anything they say.

 2.) If you have direct payment, check your statements diligently to make sure the charges are what you believe they should be.

3.) If you're ever transferred to the "Customer Retention Department", know that the person who picks up the phone has no interest in retaining you as a customer. In all likelihood, this person will do everything they can to bully you into submission or force you into canceling. As an example, my "Customer Retention Representative" accused me of lying and questioned the existence of my mother-in-law (it's a long story).

After a year of almost weekly "chats" with my friends at Comcast, this was the last straw. I canceled my service, bought an AppleTV, and weaned myself from marathons of "Millionaire Matchmaker."

I thought my relationship with Comcast was over, but like an ex-boyfriend at a mutual friend's barbecue, all those bad feeling have come rushing back with the news that Keith Olbermann's "Countdown" is no more. 

To be fair, details are twitchy. Some, including Rachel Maddow (via an appearance on Bill Maher's HBO show), say the decision was mutual. Others say he was fired because NBC's new overlords (aka Comcast...as of yesterday) don't think he knows how to play nice. I tend to think the latter is closer to the truth and not just because of my ugly break-up with Comcast. There have been rumblings since the FCC started considering the buyout of NBC by Comcast that the monopolistic cable provider wanted changes over at MSNBC. The fact that the deal was approved yesterday and Olbermann is out today (coinciding with the departure of NBC chief Jeff Zucker, one of Olbermann's biggest advocates) seems like too much of a coincidence.

To be sure, Olbermann never had a reputation for towing the line or holding his tongue. In November, he was suspended for making campaign contributions that fell outside the rules MSNBC has for its hosts (despite the fact Joe Scarborough was allowed to make such contributions until media outlets began to point out the double standard). Behind the scenes, many reports suggested there was no love lost between Olbermann and his bosses. He suggested as much on his show and even referred to the strife in his farewell. While his ratings had declined over the last year, he was responsible for landing MSNBC at a comfortable second place (behind Fox, but ahead of CNN) in the cable news wars. He was, as of yesterday, the highest rated show on MSNBC.

Love him or hate him, he was the counter-voice to people like Bill O'Reilly. And unlike other supposedly left-leaning hosts before him, Olbermann apologetically wore his liberal views on his sleeve and had no problem calling out the bullshit of politicians and other political pundits.

With the end of "Countdown", there's one less voice on air who believes that health care should be a right, big business is less important that worker rights, and the wealthiest among us should pay their fair share. Last year, Olbermann suspended and then revived a lighter version of his "Worst Persons in the World" segment, which called out bad behavior by GOP members and media. Bill O'Reilly, Sarah Palin, Glen Beck, Rush Limbaugh, and Lou Dobbs were frequent targets. He was criticized for the segment and that was why, supposedly, he chose to do away with its harsher tone. Olbermann softened while Limbaugh continued to compare Democrats to Nazis and Glenn Beck predicted the end of the world and called President Obama a racist. Then, of course, there's Sarah Palin and that now infamous crosshairs political poster.

Olbermann may have had his critics and his abrupt departure raises questions about what's to become of MSBNC, but, at least by me and the people who enjoyed his show, "Countdown" will be remembered as an unflinching watchdog for the more liberally-minded. I'll miss his perspective and, unlike Comcast, hope we meet again soon.