Top 20 of 2007: Redux

I know this is really ridiculous since it's practically mid-April, but I'm finally posting my revised list of the best films of 2007. It's been almost three months since I posted my original list, and it took me so long just to come up with that one. After I did it, though, I realized I might have decided a bit too soon, since there were quite a few notable 2007 releases that I hadn't seen. As I started catching up, my list changed dramatically, and I had to make room for some new additions. I don't want to take anything away from my original list. I stand by it, because that was the best of what I had seen at the time, and even though some films have been bumped off entirely, that doesn't mean that I love or respect them any less. I just saw other films that I loved and enjoyed a bit more. The order of the survivors has also changed slightly. For comparison purposes, you can view my original list here.

Anyway, I've been delaying this because I take my lists very seriously, and this was a really tough call. I've spent a lot of time thinking about the films, and it's been a difficult process deciding which to keep, which to add, and what order to put them in. They're all five-star films, so ranking them was particularly challenging. I could probably flip-flop and shuffle them and tweak the list for all eternity, but I had to just go with my heart and my instincts and stop the madness, so this is the final fruit of my ordering labor. There were also more 2007 films I wanted to see, and I thought that they might end up being contenders. But, I finally put my foot down. This has to be the last call, because otherwise it could go on forever. I can't possibly see everything. Whatever I haven't seen yet...in the words of John Lennon, well...oh well. I'm satisfied now, and that's how it's going to stay.

Without further ado, I present my definitive list of the best films of 2007:

1. I'm Not There
2. Juno
3. No Country for Old Men
4. After the Wedding
5. Atonement
6. Black Book
7. The King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters
8. Into the Wild
9. Once
10. L'Iceberg
11. Planet Terror
12. The Diving Bell and the Butterfly
13. Superbad
14. Waitress
15. The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford
16. 2 Days in Paris
17. Sunshine
18. In the Valley of Elah
19. There Will Be Blood
20. Lust, Caution

C'est fini! La fin!

For real.

I promise.

Wacky Waving Inflatable Arm Flailing Tubeman

Now that I've gotten your attention with my wacky waving inflatable arm flailing tubeman antics, I think it's extremely apropos that the wacky waving inflatable arm flailing tubeman - the ultimate expression of "Look at me! Check ME Out!" - is introducing my momentous 100th post! Woohoo! So, look at me, check ME out! 100 posts! Yay! I'm really excited and extremely proud. This is such a huge deal for me. Thank you, thank you, thank you for reading! I mean that from the bottom of my heart. This blog has been so rewarding. I'm not going anywhere (200 posts, I'm coming to get you), so I hope you don't either. Please keep reading - I really appreciate your support. So, it's time to par-tay! And honestly, what better way to celebrate this occasion than with a wacky waving inflatable arm flailing tubeman?

Actually, all wacky waving inflatable arm flailing tubeman shenanigans aside, I really am doing something with this post. This a review of the straight-to-DVD Family Guy Presents Stewie Griffin: The Untold Story. I know it might seem random, but I had a plan all along. The wacky waving inflatable arm flailing tubeman is featured in one of the movie's many non-sequitur-y cut-aways. These cut-aways, usually preceded by a "It's just like the time I..." or "Remember when...", are a major part of Family Guy's success. They're a staple of the show, and the movie is no different. That's what I love about Stewie Griffin: The Untold Story - it doesn't mess with a time-tested, perfect formula. Even if the episodes, stories, or jokes aren't always perfect (and trust me, they're aren't - the show is not infallible), the formula IS. This movie stays true to the spirit of the show and doesn't try to be anything else.

That being said, I think that's also one of the movie's flaws, if that makes any sense. It almost stays TOO close to the show. I'm not asking for something as grandiose as The Simpsons Movie (which I didn't like very much), but when you have the opportunity to go, pardon the expression, balls-out on an uncensored straight-to-DVD movie, you should come out with all guns blazing. Family Guy has always pushed the envelope with its offensive, scathing brilliance, but I was slightly disappointed that they didn't push it more with this movie. It's a bit safe, which is something I never thought I'd say about Family Guy. The movie does stick with the formula, which I appreciate as a loyal fan, but I don't think it does anything special with the formula to make it stand out from any regular episode. Stewie Griffin: The Untold Story is basically three episodes rolled into one and extended, stretched even, to 88 minutes. So help me, I wanted more vulgarity and debauchery from my favorite cartoon family.

The DVD came out first, and then they actually did chop it up into three separate episodes for a three-part season four finale, which is why the movie feels just like a really long episode. It is. The three episodes are entitled "Stewie B. Goode," "Bango Was His Name Oh!", and "Stu and Stewie's Excellent Adventure." I saw the three episodes separately first. They function really well as individual installments. The holding-back on the movie makes sense if you look at it in the context of them expecting to split it three ways. They didn't want to wrestle with having to change too much to appease censors. Whatever. The movie is still disappointing in its lack of chutzpah. Anyway, when I watched the movie, I was surprised at how seamlessly the three parts flowed together. So, they did a really good job in that respect. There's obviously some big chunks removed for TV, and whatever couldn't be removed was altered to make it Fox-friendly. The TV version even has a couple additions, such as a 24-style opening on the third episode voiced by none other than Jack Bauer himself, Kiefer Sutherland. The biggest additions to the movie are at the beginning and end. Stewie Griffin: The Untold Story plays out even more self-referentially than usual, with the Griffins actually walking the red carpet for the premiere of this very film at the beginning and having an after-party at the end, discussing what they did during the cancellation break for work and also taking some pointed jabs AT the cancellation. I really liked both of these parts.

To briefly summarize the plot, baby Stewie has a near-death experience at a swimming pool, sees a man on TV who looks exactly like him, assumes that he must be his real father, and goes looking for him. Wow, I didn't think I could be so succinct with my description. I don't want to give away what happens with the Stewie-lookalike mystery man, so I'll let you discover that. The movie has a subplot with Peter and Lois, frustrated from never getting any alone time, trying to get Chris and Meg out of the house by giving them dating lessons. Peter has Meg shave his back and traps her in the car while he farts, telling her to "love the gas." These are the most romantic things a girl can do for a guy, after all. Lois utilizes electro-shock therapy to get Chris to remember the names of the characters on Sex and the City. It's a lot of fun. Overall, the script is really tight and well-written. It's a neat, compelling plot. And Stewie's story is great, but I think the movie falls apart in the third act, or the third episode. I just didn't care for it very much. The movie is also just too long. Other than that, it's hilarious (I laughed out loud a lot), the gags are fantastic, and most of the cutaways are priceless, as usual. Stewie Griffin: The Untold Story is a worthwhile endeavor.

Some highlights include Peter's short-lived segment on the news ("You Know What Really Grinds My Gears?"), Ollie Williams (one of my favorite supporting characters) promoting Adopt-a-Pet, a spoof of Wilfred Brimley's diabetes commercials, Walt Disney coming back to life after being frozen, asking if the Jews were gone yet, finding out that they weren't, and asking to be re-frozen, post-near-death experience Stewie being nice, drunk Stewie, and, of course, a cheesy commercial for wacky waving inflatable arm flailing tubemen.

I think the tubeman bit is one of the funniest things I've ever seen. Just check this out, and imagine it being delivered with lightning-fast, Howard Hawks-like speed: "Hi, I'm Al Harrington, President and CEO of Al Harrington's Wacky Waving Inflatable Arm Flailing Tube Man Emporium and Warehouse! Thanks to a shipping error I am now overstocked on wacky waving inflatable arm flailing tube men, and I am passing the savings on to *you*! Attract customers to your business, make a splash at your next presentation, keep grandma company, protect your crops, confuse your neighbours! African American? Hail a cab, testify in church or just raise the roof! Whatever your wacky waving inflatable arm flailing tube man needs, come on down to Al Harrington's Wacky Waving Inflatable Arm Flailing Tube Man Emporium and Warehouse, route two in Weekapaug!" Classic.

Stewie Griffin: The Untold Story is really, really good, with lots of great moments, but it's not quite great overall. I forgive Seth MacFarlane and company, though. Family Guy, the series, is so genius that it hardly matters. Don't get me wrong, the movie is still well worth checking out, but they've done much better, and so consistently that it's astonishing. I have a confession... I've recently decided that I prefer Family Guy to The Simpsons. Gasp. And I LOVE The Simspsons, so this is big. I grew up with it and can quote whole episodes. This is a really major conclusion, akin to an epiphany. It's huge for me to admit it. But it's true - I love Family Guy more. By the way, Stewie Griffin: The Untold Story is vastly superior to The Simpsons Movie. Sorry, maybe that's a cheap shot, but so be it.

I still adore The Simpsons (that'll never change), but for me, few shows compare to the excellence of Family Guy, and certainly no other animated show does. In fact, I don't think any TV show has ever brought me more gut-busting, glorious, soul-healing laughter, sheer joy, and blissful entertainment than Family Guy.

Rating: **** (out of 5)

The Part of Grindhouse That Really Grinds My Gears

Upon discovering that I had seen Grindhouse in theaters (with Planet Terror and Death Proof viewed together as one experience) and both films in their extended forms separately and that Bill had only seen the two films as independent entities, Bill had a rather brilliant idea for this week’s installment of “She Said, He Said.” I would discuss how Grindhouse as a whole measured up to the two individual films when forced to stand alone and sink or swim on their own merit. Bill would review both films separately, not ever having seen them together in Grindhouse. To say that I’ve had a turbulent relationship with Death Proof is an understatement, but I’ll explain that in our collaboration (check for it late today or early tomorrow here). I rewatched Death Proof in preparation for this undertaking, and I’m extremely conflicted about the film. My thoughts are totally jumbled. If I’m going to do justice to our collaboration, I have to review Death Proof myself first before I can put it in the context of my experiences. I need to make some sense of my feelings.

Death Proof has been, and still is, a huge thorn in my side, so this review has been a long time coming. I have the utmost respect for Quentin Tarantino. I think he’s one of the best filmmakers working today, and I love his extensive knowledge of and appreciation for cinematic history. Clearly, he loves grindhouse films, and Death Proof is his homage to that genre. Or is it an homage to himself? This is his most self-indulgent film by a long shot. His purpose is muddled. He doesn’t go far enough to make it a cheeky, winking reinvention, but he doesn’t have the plot or characters required for a real film. So, I don’t know what it is other than a mess.

Tarantino loves women. We get it. Death Proof is basically Tarantino’s wet dream, complete with his prolific, rather disturbing foot fetish. The film starts with a shot of pretty female feet on a dashboard. Gag. Okay, I’m warning you now – this review is going to be spoiler city. I can’t possibly exorcise my feelings without getting into the plot details. Death Proof is essentially two separate films weakly connected by a character known as Stuntman Mike (Kurt Russell). The first half of the film centers around a group of bitchy, slutty, alcoholic potheads, including Butterfly (Vanessa Ferlito), Shanna (Jordan Ladd), and local DJ Jungle Julia (Sydney Poitier, daughter of the legendary Sidney). All the girls talk about is getting laid and getting trashed. I don’t mind women speaking graphically about sex. I love Sex and the City. But in Death Proof, there’s nothing else going on. There’s no rhyme or reason to any of it. I think Tarantino mistakes women speaking vulgarly for empowerment.

“The Girls,” as the women in Death Proof are billed in the credits, in the first half are being stalked by Stuntman Mike and his scary skull-embossed car. Shanna is practically a non-entity as a character only notable for telling a guy (director Eli Roth) how to pronounce her name: “It’s Shanna Banana, not Shawna Banawna.” Butterfly and Jungle Julia share the spotlight in this part, which takes place in a dive-bar run by no other than Quentin Tarantino in a cameo that way overstays its welcome. Butterfly finds out that Jungle Julia talked about her on the radio and offered a challenge. Any guy that comes up to Butterfly, buys her a drink, and repeats a poem gets a lap dance in return. What a great friend. The girls spend far too long at this bar engaging in inane conversation (there’s lots of inane conversation in Death Proof). Jungle Julia sends some random text messages. The girls dance erotically. They blather on and on. Oh, Stuntman Mike is also at the bar. He eats nachos and strikes up a conversation with Pam (a blonde Rose McGowan), who needs a ride home. Even this description is practically lulling me into a coma. It’s SO boring.

Naturally, Stuntman Mike approaches Butterfly, says the magic words, and after some goading that includes him calling her “chicken shit,” she agrees to give him a lap dance. The lap dance scene is one of the strongest in the film. The music is great, it’s well-shot, and it’s actually pretty empowering, despite the obvious objectification. Also, it’s just plain hot. Ferlito really works it. Then, it ends, and it’s back to more awful dialogue. Pam gets in the car with Stuntman Mike. The car is “death proof,” meaning it’s been fortified for stuntwork in movies. Her seat is all boxed-in and sealed off with plastic from his part. So, he starts driving, gets all homicidal, and slams her around until she croaks. I guess that was just an appetizer. Jungle Julia, Shanna, Butterfly, and their random friend Lena (she’s driving) are cruising around high as a kite and totally drunk. As they listen to some typically cutesy Tarantino music really loudly, Stuntman Mike plows into them head-on, and we see the crash four different ways to see how each girl bites it. If I’m talking about this methodically, it’s because the film IS methodical. It’s so meaningless. The crash would have impact if he actually wrote characters we cared about. There’s some crap at a hospital with a sheriff (Michael Parks) speculating on Stuntman Mike’s vehicular homicide (he’s still alive), but it can’t be proven. Blah blah blah. End of Film One.

Beginning of Film Two. Enter a new set of “girls” to drive us nuts. Aren't we lucky? This group consists of Abernathy (Rosario Dawson), Kim (Tracie Thoms), Zoe (Zoe Bell), and Lee (Mary Elizabeth Winstead). To be fair, these women at least get equal screen time, the first three anyway. Winstead gets left behind, literally, as you’ll see. Still, these characters are just as shallow as the first group, but slightly less annoying. The second half of the film is better than the first. So, Stuntman Mike has somehow found this batch of girls at a convenience store. He touches a sleeping Rosario Dawson’s feet and drives away. When he reappears at the end of the film, I’d almost forgotten he was in it. These girls are all involved in the movie industry. Zoe Bell, playing herself, is a stuntwoman visiting America from New Zealand. Abernathy does make-up, Lee’s a famous movie star, and Kim is also a stuntwoman. They have leave for a few days, so they decide to raise hell. Whoo. They have a vulgar, insanely annoying, long-winded conversation in the car about sex. Typical. After all, that’s what women do. Apparently, all women do it all the time. Boy, Tarantino really gets us. We also prance around in lingerie, have naked pillow fights, and compare boobs during sleep-overs. Ugh. Anyway, after an intolerably long scene at a restaurant, during which the girls talk about absolutely nothing, with the camera just spinning around the table for like ten minutes, Zoe says she wants to go drive a car like the one in Vanishing Point, some cult classic action movie with a presumably fierce car chase. A local guy is selling one, so they go to his place.

Zoe wants to play a game called “Ship’s Mast” with Kim. They argue about it for a bit, and then Kim agrees. They need to convince the guy to let them take the car for a test drive on their own. When Abernathy learns that they plan on leaving her and Lee behind as collateral, she gets pissed. It’s brought up that Abernathy is a mother. Keep that in mind. Abernathy says that if she gets him to agree, she gets to go along for the ride. Lee is left behind, and the guy clearly wants to have sex with her, so I don’t know if potential rape is supposed to be funny, but it’s not. We don’t ever find out what happens, because that’s the last we see of Lee. Plot hole! Once on the road, Kim and Zoe prepare to do their daredevil business. Ship’s Mast involves Zoe sprawled out on the hood of the car on her back, each hand gripping a belt attached to the car, while Kim drives as fast as she can. Abernathy is freaked out at first but starts loving it. Oh, but wouldn’t you know it, Kurt Russell is still in this movie! Here he comes! He catches up to the girls and slams into the car from behind. This begins what is allegedly one of the greatest car chases ever captured on film. I’m dubious. He slams into them a bunch, Zoe loses her grip, and it goes on like that for about ten minutes. Phase One of the chase ends, the cars stop, Zoe has been projected off the hood and possibly killed, and Kim shoots Stuntman Mike before he speeds off. Abernathy and Kim cry for a few seconds and then Zoe pops out of the bushes completely unharmed.

In Phase Two of the chase, the girls seek revenge. They set out to kill him. Hmm, that’s quite a drastic turn of events. So, they catch up with him and start slamming into him. Eventually, his car flips over, and the girls take turns punching the crap out of him. He finally gets taken down by Zoe’s roundhouse kick to the face. The girls leap into the air, victorious, and the film ends with a freeze frame of this joyous celebration. Cut away to see “Written and directed by Quentin Tarantino,” and then cut back to the girls. A very limber Abernathy extends her leg up as far as possible, holds it there with her hands, and then slams her boot into Stuntman Mike’s face, crushing his skull. The end for real. What…the hell…was THAT? I’m sorry if my plot description was annoying. I was really trying to make it somewhat interesting. If it sounds tedious, it is. In fact, just reliving it like that was torture for me. There are so many problems with this film that I don’t know where to begin. I honestly don’t know what Quentin Tarantino was thinking. I think Tarantino is brilliant, so that’s why I expect more of him, and that’s why Death Proof is such a massive, epic disappointment. Well, it’s a disappointment because it sucks, but also because he can do better.

Here’s how it boils down: I think Tarantino wanted to film a car chase, and then he was like, “Oh crap, now I need to fill 90 minutes.” That’s how it feels. It’s forced, gapingly empty, pointless filler. Death Proof is painfully, often excruciatingly, boring. It borders on torture. The dialogue is an unending nightmare. The character development is pitiful to non-existent. Maybe instead of forcing us to listen to them ramble on incessantly, he could have made them seem like real people. The sad thing is - I think Tarantino actually believes that he created well-developed, strong characters, especially strong females. Stuntman Mike is the most interesting character, but even he’s a lousy specimen. How about some backstory? Why is he like this? Why does he pick out these particular women? Why is Stuntman Mike a killer? We know he likes eating nachos, but not why he kills women with his car. The women in the first half are pathetic. They’re oversexed blow-up dolls with no discernible personalities. They make me ashamed to be a woman. Butterfly is the best female character in the whole film, but even she gets slighted. We don’t get to know her, and I only care about her because Vanessa Ferlito does a spectacular acting job. Rose McGowan’s Pam is sort of sympathetic, but I think I’m just carrying over some of my affection for her from Planet Terror. She hates the other girls, so that makes me empathize with her because I hate them, too, so I suppose that’s something. Shanna is worthless, and Jungle Julia is one of the most annoying characters I’ve ever seen in a movie. She delivers a line, repeatedly, that haunts my nightmares and makes me scream inside every time I hear it: “Kinda cute, kinda hot, kinda sexy, hysterically funny, but not funny-looking guy who you could fuck…” And Sydney Poitier gives a terrible performance. She’s so irritating that by the time Stuntman Mike crashed into them and her leg (hanging out the window) gets ripped off, I was ready to tear it off myself and smack her upside the head with it. The accident is well-shot. Fine. Whatever. What does it mean, though? I don’t care about the characters. I don’t know them, so it doesn’t matter that they die. There’s no emotional impact.

It’s so hard to decide which group of girls I hate more. I will say this: I liked the second half a lot more than the first. The dialogue is less aggravating, and the acting is better overall. Also, it’s just more entertaining. Okay, it’s decided. I hate the first group of girls more. But the girls in the second group are no winners either. All the characters are so shallow and vapid. During the car chase, I did find myself occasionally engaged emotionally, or at least viscerally, with the characters. I was with them, at least until they went all homicidal. Even then, though, there were moments when I just felt, on a gut-level, like shouting, “You go, girls! Kick some ass! Damn the man!” But I’m not proud of it. They’re not good role models at all. The second half is better because I did have those brief instances of empathetic involvement. Still, how they reacted bewildered me. First of all, how could they leave Lee behind with the creepy guy in the middle of nowhere? And why don’t we ever find out what happened to her? It’s a plot hole the size of the Grand Canyon.

Okay, let’s discuss the girls turning into killing machines. I don’t buy it. It’s stupid and inexplicable. I know he came after them first, but the answer is NOT to turn them into homicidal maniacs. Does Tarantino really believe that’s empowering? I think he does. It’s not, though. He’s totally wrong. The worst part is Abernathy kicking his face in at the end. Where does that come from?! They made such a big deal out of her being a mother. All of a sudden, this mother is going to put her life on the line to exact some potentially suicidal feminine revenge? The mother is going to be the one to deliver the final blow? Abernathy the Mommy crushes his skull in with her sexy high kick? No, no, no! I don’t get it. Why mention she’s a mom at all? What’s the point? It makes the ending even more offensive and incongruous because of it. The girls in the second part are nothing but action figures, and just as plastic and empty.

Death Proof is well-made. Tarantino is an excellent technician. He knows film. He did his own cinematography, and it looks wonderful, although at times he cares more about making it pretty than making it look grindhouse. The car murder and the car chase are great (but to what end?), his music selection is awesome as always, and there’s some good acting. Kurt Russell is excellent and has a blast but is totally wasted in this movie. Vanessa Ferlito, Rosario Dawson, Tracie Thoms, and Mary Elizabeth Winstead are good (that’s all the praise I can muster). Zoe Bell (most renowned for being Uma Thurman’s stunt double in Kill Bill) is a phenomenal stuntwoman but an appalling actress. Tarantino does a commendable job in the first half keeping up the grindhouse look (scratches, skips, etc.), but that look pretty much disappears in the second half. I’ve heard a theory about this that the first half (and the women) represent the old grindhouse films, which is why they’re victimized, and the second half is a modern (hence the lack of skips) depiction of girl power. The first girls lose, and the second girls win. This is a compelling argument, and I agree with it to some extent, but there’s no excuse for such miserable characters or for such a blatantly negative message. The second half is NOT feminist. The characters need to be real human beings, which these women aren't, in order to be empowering paradigms of feminism. They’re nothing. All they are at the end are caricatures, and caricatures can't be empowering. And while they DO win, they win by killing. Whee.

I don’t think the second half is necessarily sexist or misogynistic, but it’s certainly not pro-feminist or empowering. The characters aren't inherently offensive (except maybe for the murderous impulses), but the way Tarantino obviously idolizes them and glowingly depicts them, like superheroes, for no reason or for the wrong reasons, is troublesome. Hmm, when I think about it that way, I guess the second half IS sexist and even misogynistic. The first half, on the other hand, is totally and unquestionably anti-feminist and misogynistic. The characters are disgraceful to all women, and the objectification, which occurs throughout but is most prominent in the first half, is sickening. The characters in the first half are submissive, sleazy, loathsome, grotesque imitations of women, but the characters in the second half, while not as awful or as dangerously represented as their predecessors, go too far in the other direction. They're harmful parodies and grotesquely exaggerated in a different way. They're action figures from the Hot Babes Kicking Ass collection. They have no other identities. Basically, they're completely naïve projections of men's clichéd fantasies.

I know people will probably say I’m missing the point and that the women are supposed to be one-dimensional symbols. Bullshit! No, they’re not. They're not strong women because there's nothing there! They're totally shallow and hollow. If the characters had depth and three-dimensionality, the film would be more effective in denouncing oppression and misogyny. There’s nothing ironic about it as it stands. The way Tarantino handles it, like a boy just entering puberty, is clumsy and, yes, offensive. I know he loves women (hell, he worships them) and that he isn't a misogynist, and I think he had good intentions, but he fails. Death Proof is not a positive example of feminine strength. It’s the opposite. His idea of feminism is women swearing and talking frankly and graphically about sex, just like men do. Oh, how bold of him. This form of "candid" discussion occurs equally in both halves of the film, but the talk is detrimental and meaningless when the characters have no depth to back it up. For both groups of characters, the dialogue is just sensationalistic exploitation of preconceived notions and socially accepted standards of femininity and feminine behavior that is neither enlightening nor clever. You're not aiding the cause, Quentin.

For awhile, I wasn’t sure if the film was sexist or not. I knew it wasn’t empowering, but I didn’t know if it was just neutral or if it actually crossed the line to sexist. For me, it crosses the line. The film is a whole lot of nothing, but I can’t dismiss the negative female representations, however unintentional. I think Death Proof was intended to be an intellectual experiment, but that doesn’t mean it’s immune from criticism on the feminist front. I think his point was to show the first women as objects and the second women as the predators (for once), but I don’t care. It doesn’t work. He can make that point with fully-fleshed out characters, too. In fact, it’d be better that way.

I can’t help it. I’m offended. I know it’s just a movie, but I see these female characters, and I’m disgusted. They talk and act like Tarantino WANTS women to talk and act. This film is all wish-fulfillment. Not only that, Death Proof is so self-congratulatory on Tarantino’s part. Like I said before, it’s more an homage to himself and his misguided ideas and ideals of womanhood than an homage to grindhouse films. Talk about being stuck in arrested development. “The girls” are his drooling, horny, shallow, perverted, lust-fueled, hormone-ravaged creations. He usually writes strong female characters, which is why I’m so disappointed and angry. There’s none of his usual irony, satire, or intelligence here. I could probably write a book about Death Proof and never reconcile my conflicting thoughts and feelings or be fully satisfied with any sort of conclusion, but this is the best I can do. I’ll leave you with this: Death Proof is nothing more than the delusional, masturbatory fantasy of Quentin Tarantino.

Rating: *1/2 (out of 5) - This is my rating for the extended, solo version of Death Proof. When I saw it as a part of Grindhouse, I HATED it, like I don't think I've ever hated a film. I still hate it with a passion, but I do concede that it's better on its own, and I can swallow my pride and admit that I liked it more away from Planet Terror. Putting the explosive genius of Planet Terror before it was the worst move ever. It just made Death Proof look even worse by comparison. As a part of Grindhouse, I would have given Death Proof half a star or possibly even a zero. It's been a long, hard journey to arrive at the one and a half I give it now.

Trailer Treasures and Trash (But Mostly Trash)

I've been wandering around the trailer park a lot lately, basically just allowing myself to be bombarded with movie trailers, and now I want to share (or unload) my findings. I meant to write this awhile ago, so I actually had to watch some of the trailers for these films multiple times, which was often quite...trying. Okay, it was downright unbearable for some of them. Note: I'm not commenting on the trailers themselves, like if they're particularly snappy or what not; I'm just giving my brief opinions about the films BASED on the trailers. Come along on my journey, won't you?

Baby Mama: Another day, another pregnancy movie. Unfortunately, this one doesn't look smart, insightful, or funny. Amy Poehler plays a white trash surrogate mother for snooty, upper-crust Tina Fey's baby. Watch out, they're comically mismatched! Tee hee hee. It seems like Ms. Fey is slumming it a bit with this one. How bourgeois of her. As you can tell, I'm not a fan of Tina Fey. The two female characters look like sexist caricatures, and the image of Amy Poehler crouching in the sink to pee is so disturbing. This movie looks as deep as a thimble and as trashy as Poehler's character.

The Dark Knight: I watch this trailer constantly, and it never gets old. It's one of the best trailers I've ever seen, and the film still looks like it'll be the best of the summer. I love you, Heath!

Forgetting Sarah Marshall: I'll be blogging about the film, its ad campaign, and Judd Apatow's comedy in an upcoming post (soon, so look for it!), but I'm sticking to the trailer for now. This film has all the makings of another Apatow masterpiece. I can't wait to see it.

Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull: I did not grow up with these movies. I've only seen one of them, Temple of Doom, and it was a few months ago. It was fun, but I wasn't terribly impressed. I think this is the sort of franchise, like Star Wars, that you need to get into at an early age. So, it doesn't have the magic for me. This film, which I'm sure has inspired many a wet dream for fanboys, just doesn't look that good. Sure, it seems like typical Indy fun, I like that Harrison Ford (still sexy) is joking about his age, Shia LaBeouf is a promising talent, and Cate Blanchett looks like a badass villain, but the film looks cheesy and silly. Maybe that's the point, but Indiana Jones, I'm just not that into you.

The Incredible Hulk: Hmm, déja vu... What's the point of this? Seriously. Who's demanding another movie about the Hulk? This version looks ridiculously awful. YAWN. I don't care what everyone else says - I actually liked Ang Lee's interpretation. I didn't love it, but I did enjoy it, and I don't know why everyone thinks it's such an abomination. Edward Norton as the Hulk? Um, not so much. The CGI Hulk looks cheap and terrible. He doesn't look like Edward Norton at all! They're not even trying. And Ang Lee's The Hulk was released only FIVE years ago. Ang Lee, meet Mr. Slap-in-the-Face.

The Love Guru: Mike Myers has become a parody of himself. He used to be talented. No, really, I remember. I shamefully admit that I giggled a couple of times during the trailer, and Justin Timberlake looks hilarious, but this is such an Austin Powers wanna-be (look, there's Verne Troyer!), and that's not even a compliment, because the Austin Powers franchise sucks overall. Ew, Mike Myers trying to hook up with Jessica Alba? Nasty! And even before the public hullabaloo about the depiction of Hinduism, I thought it looked offensive to the religion and Indian culture. It deserves the backlash that it's getting from Hindus. Yikes, I didn't even realize Ben "Gandhi" Kingsley is in this movie. How far the mighty have fallen...

Mamma Mia!: This musical looks adorable. It's so sweet that I thought I might get my first cavity just from watching the trailer. I mean, it's really, really cute, but maybe too cute for its own good. I was taken in by the teaser, but once I saw the theatrical trailer, I was getting kind of sick of it. The cast is amazing (Amanda Seyfried and especially Meryl Streep look divine), the music sounds good (even though I've never been an ABBA fan), and it looks exuberantly fun. Once I saw the long version of the trailer, I had time to think, and I thought, "It's not cute or funny or endearing that she could possibly have three fathers. Why are we celebrating Meryl Streep's character's sluttiness? Since when is sleeping around charming?" How offensive. Needless to say, my feminist radar started beeping big time, and I'm no longer as excited about the movie. I'll probably still see it, but I have a sour taste in my mouth, which is a nice change from all the saccharine.

Meet Dave: Atrocious-looking movie with Eddie Murphy playing more than one character. Surprise, surprise. Could his ego get any bigger? This comes out on my birthday, too. Yuck.

Tropic Thunder: Basically, this is a dumbed-down version of Apocalypse Now directed by Ben Stiller and inexplicably co-written by Justin Theroux. Oh, I forgot, it's supposedly a comedy. I didn't laugh ONCE during the trailer. Typical testesterone-fest about idiotic men shooting a Vietnam flick and starring Ben Stiller, Jack Black, and Robert Downey, Jr. as a black guy. Yeah. Robert Downey, Jr. as a black guy. He's in blackface. It's not the exaggerated blackface of bigoted yesteryear, but still, it's blackface. Why doesn't that seem like a good idea? I love the smell controversy in the morning.

The Visitor: Richard Jenkins looks uncannily like a teacher I had in college. Bill, we've found your twin! Plot in a simplistic nutshell: Jenkins plays a square who meets an illegal immigrant couple. They teach him how to live life to the fullest (and to play the bongos). The immigrant guy gets arrested. Lessons are learned, tears are shed, and hearts are warmed. When the trailer started, I thought it looked stupid. By the end of the two and half minutes or so, I had tears in my eyes. Go figure. The film has a good pedigree with Jenkins and writer/director Thomas McCarthy, who also made The Station Agent. I actually want to see this film.

WALL-E: He's so cute! I love WALL-E! I want to pinch his metallic cheeks! I adored the teaser for this film, as well as the Super Bowl spot. It didn't seem like it could get any better, but it's Pixar, so of course it did. The theatrical version of the trailer gives us a glorious glimpse into WALL-E's experiences on board the spaceship. Robot hilarity and sweetness ensue. I'm just amazed at Pixar's brilliance. He's a ROBOT, and a junky one at that. How do they make him so adorable and expressive? And how come they couldn't make the cars in Cars that expressive? Anyway, WALL-E is so vulnerable, which is what I find very touching and lovable about him. This has the potential to be one of Pixar's best.

You Don't Mess with the Zohan: You don't, eh? What an awful title for a movie. This was written by Adam Sandler, his buddy Robert Smigel, and Judd Apatow. Apatow? Really? He must have written the funny parts. ("Welcome to Hezbollah Phone Line. For terrorist supplies, press one.") No producing for Apatow this time, just writing duties. Sandler plays an Israeli counter-terrorist who decides to become a hairdresser. Okay, if you say so. But it does look somewhat amusing. I'm intrigued. Sandler could use a comedic return to form. Maybe this is it. He also looks oddly beefy and sexy. Still, I can't ignore the deliberate Sacha Baron Cohen/Borat rip-off element. Zohan? Come on, who are you trying to fool? That's insulting to Cohen. Sorry, Sandler, but Cohen did it first, and he did it best. I'm torn about Zohan (sheesh, of all things). We'll have to see what happens.

So, that's all the trailer talk for now. Tune in next time for the Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince trailer edition. Ah, wishful thinking. Seriously...trailer? Soon? Please? I'll be your best friend.

Skip, Skip, Skip to My Hell...

How many times have you watched a DVD and had it skip on you? I know that sounds like the cheesy intro to a bad infomercial, but stick with me. Suddenly, the DVD just freezes for a second, and then it continues along on its merry way. It only skips for a second, but it still skips. This happens ALL THE TIME when I watch DVDs, and it pisses me off. I frankly don't know why I've never written about it before.

So, I was watching The Talented Mr. Ripley tonight. I was just minding my own business and enjoying, devouring even, my Matt Damon and my Anthony Minghella, and of course, the dreaded skip happened. It drives me CRAZY. I'm so obsessive that I always freak out that maybe it skipped more than I thought it did and I might have missed something vital. So, I always make sure to go back over it a few times just to confirm that the counter matches up. It's the worst when it happens during dialogue. Usually it doesn't. I guess that's because it's easier to catch on dialogue. But you'd be amazed at how many errors DO go unnoticed during dialogue. Or, if you're bitter and jaded like I am now (the DVD companies, a.k.a. "The Man," made me this way!), perhaps you wouldn't be amazed or surprised. We've grown accustomed to mistakes (ooh, that was kind of a My Fair Lady riff). The number of non-dialogue mistakes is staggering. I'm just appalled that there are so many of these skipping slip-ups period. It makes me want to vomit.

For years, I've been so annoyed. I almost blissfully recall my naïve days when I thought it might just be on the one DVD and actually went back to Best Buy multiple times for replacements. Alas, the errors were universal. Fuck up one DVD...fuck up all of them. Pardon my language. I don't think I've ever seen it happen more than once during any given film, but big whoop. It shouldn't happen...um...let's see...oh yeah...EVER. Honestly, I don't generally think about it (until it happens, that is, which is why I suppose I haven't written about it yet). I don't let it eclipse the film. It's not like I pop it into the DVD player moaning and groaning and being all irrationally, blatantly paranoid and angry from the get-go. That being said, I know it's like a flashing neon sign in my subconscious. It's always there in my mind. I know there'll be a skip. I just expect it. And I'm usually, and unfortunately, right.

I'd say there's a skip on 80% of all DVDs, if not more. That's at least the percentage I'm getting from the ones I watch. I know this has happened to everyone. It has to have. Why does this occur? Who's watching these DVDs before they okay them? Seriously, who? I could do that job better! It's like proofreading for film. I know that it's someone's sole responsibility to watch and make sure everything is just right. There's probably even someone double-checking the work. When the attention is so focused like that, how can these egregious (yes, egregious) mistakes slip by? How hard can it be? All you have to do is open your eyes.

I'm not particularly technologically-saavy, but I see the skip, and I know it's WRONG. I know it's avoidable. There's no reason or excuse for it. It's called quality control. These mistakes are irritating and distracting. Sometimes I dream that I might make it all the way through a DVD skip-free, but that's a luxury so rarely afforded to consumers today. It seems like it's just getting worse, too. I don't remember it being such a big issue before. I'd approximate that my awareness of this phenomenon, my accompanying despair and disgust, and the overall spike in manufacturing inadequacy transpired about five years ago. I guess that's when I noticed it, or at least when I started hording DVDs, so I had more opportunities to notice.

I know this may seem like a big fuss about nothing, but it's NOT nothing! When I'm paying 20 bucks a film, I expect pristine quality. I demand perfection. Is that too much to ask? Stop the skips! Please! Just stop!

Oh, and then there's all this talk about Blu-Ray and other formats... How in the bloody hell can we move on to more advanced technology when we haven't even perfected the technology we've got?

"She Said, He Said": All About Michael Clayton

I now present to you this week's edition of "She Said, He Said" on its regularly scheduled day of Wednesday, as promised.

For this installment, Bill and I face off about Michael Clayton in dueling reviews. When I say "face off," I'm not pulling any punches. We really throw down about Michael Clayton. One of us thought Michael Clayton was among the best films of 2007, and one of us thought it was among the worst. Is it a brilliant reinvention of the supsense-thriller that sets a new standard of filmmaking excellence? Or is it a hackneyed, overrated, underwhelming fraud? What do you think? We'd love to hear.

Well, we've definitely chosen sides, and we strongly, proudly, and energetically defend our positions. Who do YOU agree with?

She Said: Lisa Draski

I didn’t see Michael Clayton until a few days before the Oscars. It was one of several films viewed during a last-minute DVD cram session. I saw it because I felt obligated to, not because I really wanted to see it. The film didn’t look particularly interesting, but I had heard universally positive things about it. Then, it got nominated for all those Oscars, and it made me question the film’s validity. Could it really be so great as to eclipse the wealth of other contenders for Best Picture? I was skeptical, to say the least. And I got so sick of hearing all the hype about George “Everyone Loves Me, I Can Do No Wrong” Clooney. Best Actor? Really? He bothers the hell out of me. I’m not going to sugar-coat it. I think he’s a pompous ass, a super-charming one (I often feel like I’m being sucked into the hypnotic Clooney charm), but a pompous ass nonetheless. I’m going to bite my tongue and leave it at that. Anyway, this is supposed to be about Michael Clayton, not about Clooney, so pardon my mini-rant.

I admit that I was biased (negatively) when I went into Michael Clayton. I kind of wanted to hate it. But I’m always fair, even if I have certain thoughts beforehand. I’m not petty. I’ll be the first to eat my words if I’m wrong. I watch with an open mind, and I gave Michael Clayton the chance to blow me away and make me seem like an idiot for possessing my preconceptions. Alas, it did not blow me away, and my preconceptions were vindicated. I was extremely underwhelmed by this critically hailed “modern masterpiece” and actually quite angered by it. That was it? THAT’S the movie that everyone was talking about? Did I put the wrong DVD in by mistake? I was totally baffled. It’s not a horrible movie by any means, but it almost seems that way because of all the praise heaped upon it. Because the reactions have been so glowing, I was expecting more out of it, which makes it a bigger disappointment than, say, a film no one ever mentioned. Clooney, the filmmakers, the studio, and all the critics built it up. Not me. It’s not my fault that they set their own bar so high.

Michael Clayton is passably competent at times, but overall, it’s below-average, less-than-mediocre, and nothing more than a standard crime procedural. It could easily be a grim-looking, blue-filtered episode of Law and Order: SVU (Snoring Victims Unit). I just don’t get what’s so special about it. I have to break it down to try to make sense of it. Tony Gilroy wrote and directed it, and it was his first time with both duties, so I do give him credit. It’s a noble effort, but he failed. People are so gaga over the fact that it’s an original script. Usually, the thriller/crime genre is reserved for adaptations, so I suppose the fact that it’s “original” set it apart in the eyes of the viewers, critics, and voters of awards.

But I argue that there’s absolutely nothing original about Michael Clayton at all. It’s painfully hackneyed. Gilroy brings nothing new to the table whatsoever. Big business is evil. Corporate greed corrupts. How mind-blowing. I guess I should briefly describe the plot in case you’re not familiar with the film. Clooney plays Michael Clayton (I HATE the title of the film, how boring to name it after a character - at least with Juno, there's some ambiguity and extra meaning behind it, and it's a catchy character name, not the clunking anvil that is Michael Clayton), a corporate “fixer.” He used to be a lawyer, but now he just tidies up after the firm’s biggest, wealthiest clients, sweeping up their mistakes, even if he has to act immorally or illegally to do so. Poor Michael Clayton. All the years of this work has really done a number on him. He doesn’t even know who he is anymore. Tom Wilkinson is Arthur Edens, a lawyer who develops a conscience about the wrongdoings of the people he was defending, a supposedly environmentally-conscious company producing toxic chemicals for farming or something like that. The big mean company is represented by Tilda Swinton’s Karen Crowder. Clayton ‘s job is to “fix” Arthur Edens, to keep him in line and stop him from blabbing. But is Arthur crazy, as everyone thinks, or is he telling the truth? Will the big mean company get taken down? Blah blah blah. Yeah, so that’s the plot in a dull nutshell. I think the film is ridiculously predictable and that the answers to these questions and “problems” seem so obvious, but I won’t spoil anything.

The film is told through poorly-executed flashback, and it's completely unnecessary to boot. When the plots come back around to the starting point, we don't learn anything new enough to warrant the annoying, useless structure. Everything in the plot has been done before. I wasn’t surprised at all by anything that happened. Okay, I was surprised one time, but I was more saddened by the occurrence, because it just made the rest of the film even blander. I don’t have a problem with slow-moving films. I love films that unfold gradually, like The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford or The English Patient, both challengingly long, at least in my opinion. The issue is not my patience. If it’s interesting, I’ll wait 10 hours for the climax. Michael Clayton is BORING. There’s no suspense, and it’s supposed to be a suspense-thriller! Gilroy knows nothing about building suspense. Alfred Hitchcock would scoff at this film if he was alive.

The characters are painfully dull. Michael Clayton is one of the worst protagonists I’ve seen in a long time. It’s like Screenwriting 101 for Dummies. Chapter One: How to Create a Character. It feels like character-by-numbers. We meet Michael Clayton. He’s a moody SOB. We soon learn he has a fractured relationship with his son, he’s divorced, he has a gambling problem, he’s not happy with his career, he wants to open a bar but his coke-fiend brother keeps screwing up the business venture, and his father is dying. Yawn. How cliché. Just throwing a ton of ingredients into a stew doesn’t cover up the fact that the stew sucks. It’s too much. All of those elements don’t make him three-dimensional because they seem so contrived. He’s a terrible character.

Arthur is the best character in the film, possibly only because he’s played by Tom Wilkinson. Arthur is an interesting, sympathetic character with a legitimate conflict, unlike Michael Clayton, who provokes no empathy. Still, I would have liked to have learned more about Arthur, and he’s utilized poorly. Everything and everyone just seem like plot devices that exist solely to serve Michael Clayton. Karen Crowder is another awful character. Tilda Swinton does a miraculous job with the steaming pile of nothing that Gilroy gave her (not Oscar-miraculous, but I’ll get to that later), but Karen is worthless as a foil to Michael Clayton’s plans. She’s a really pathetic, weak female “villain.” I know she’s supposed to be conflicted and all that, but the character is so under-developed and, as written, again just a mere prop for Clayton. It would have been nice to learn more about her thoughts and motivations. As is, she’s such a non-factor in the film that she may as well be a ghost. It’s a thankless role. And speaking of thankless roles, Sydney Pollack is only there to be the token wise sage of the law firm. Nothing more.

The filmmaking is perfectly capable, but that’s it. It’s a well-made film, but it doesn’t ever attain greatness. There are some impressive names attached to the crew, too, so I’m a bit surprised. The cinematography by Robert Elswit is drab and forgettable. He also did the cinematography for There Will Be Blood, another 2007 release, and won an Oscar for it. I’m not sure when the films were shot in relation to each other, like which was first, but I assume Elswit was either distracted by the upcoming, much greater, and much more complex There Will Be Blood, or else he was still ruminating about the amazing, more satisfying experience that he had already had on There Will Be Blood. He shot all of Paul Thomas Anderson’s visually stunning films, and he’s better than what we see here. The score by James Newton Howard, another big name, is a total non-entity. It’s even more forgettable than Elswit’s phoned-in cinematography. I can’t believe the score was nominated for an Oscar. That’s an outrage. I challenge anyone who’s seen the film to recall one note of the score. There’s nothing remarkable about it at all. The score for the TV show 24, on any given episode, is infinitely better (and actually, slap two episodes of 24 together, and you’d have a supremely better movie, too). Howard's score is barely movie-of-the-week, after-school special quality music. What nonsense that it was nominated.

While we’re on the subject, let’s talk Oscars. SEVEN nominations? Best Original Screenplay, Best Director, Best Picture, Best Score, Best Actor, Best Supporting Actress (Tilda Swinton), Best Supporting Actor (Tom Wilkinson) - what the hell?! The only nomination that Michael Clayton deserved was the one for Best Supporting Actor. Wilkinson is brilliant. I’m bewildered by everything else. Tony Gilroy for Best Original Screenplay is ridiculous. It’s so standard potboiler that I can’t even wrap my mind around it receiving a nomination for achieving any kind of excellence. Adrienne Shelly (Waitress) and even Robert Rodriguez (Planet Terror) wrote better scripts. Shelly obviously should have gotten the posthumous nod, but I stand by my belief that Planet Terror is a superb script. Best score…GAG. I don’t know what crazy rules prohibited Once, Into the Wild, and There Will Be Blood from being nominated, but I despise them. Those scores are way more deserving than Howard’s. But for one that could have actually been in the running, why wasn’t Nick Cave and Warren Ellis’ astonishingly beautiful score for The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford nominated over Michael Clayton? It’s enough to make me scream! Heck, Robert Rodriguez could have taken James Newton Howard’s place for his Planet Terror score. By the way, if it isn't obvious already, I really love Planet Terror.

Best Director for Tony Gilroy? That’s laughable. The film is so static that a blindfolded monkey could have directed it. Again, it’s competent, but totally boring. And hello, Sean Penn for Into the Wild? Todd Haynes for I’m Not There? (Hey, even if you hate I’m Not There, you have to give Haynes his due.) It’s all so infuriating. Best Picture is just insane. I actually agree with the four other nominees in the category, but I’d replace Michael Clayton with the heartbreaking yet life-affirming Into the Wild. Tilda Swinton has given so many great performances in her career that it makes me sick that she was nominated for THIS. Her work in Stephanie Daley, an overlooked gem from this past year, is miles above and beyond Michael Clayton. She’s really good in Michael Clayton. She sure tries her damnedest to make something out of nothing. It’s just standard Swinton greatness, though. I’m not taking her for granted, because I adore her, but it’s not enough for a nomination this time. It might have been in another year, but there were better candidates. Ahem. Cough, cough. Jennifer Garner. Cough, cough. Oh, excuse me. Something in my throat. It somehow affected my typing. That Swinton WON the Oscar is appalling. Cate Blanchett deserved it for I’m Not There, and my second choice would have been Saoirse Ronan for Atonement, then Amy Ryan for Gone Baby Gone, and THEN Tilda Swinton, if I’m going by the actual nominees. Humph.

Of the five Best Actor nominees, George Clooney was the least deserving by a long shot. His presence in that category is still inexplicable to me. I don’t really want to tear into the other nominees, since I’m trying just to focus on Clooney, but I had issues with the category. Let’s leave it at that. How Emile Hirsch didn’t make it in for Into the Wild is mind-boggling. It’s a crime. Even Clooney’s buddy, Brad Pitt, was better and, dare I say, nomination-worthy, in The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford. I’m sorry, but I just don’t think George Clooney is a very good actor. He’s had some moments, I’ll give him that, but overall, I just don’t see the fireworks that everyone else seems to see. I’m always very aware that I’m watching “George Clooney: Big Movie Star.” He never really immerses himself, and he certainly doesn’t do it in Michael Clayton. Guess what – bags under your eyes and not smiling? That’s not acting. Ooh, you made him look a little less dashing than usual. I like his big “Does it look like I’m negotiating?” scene, but that’s about it. He’s good, especially by his own standards, but I mainly felt like I was watching a robot. I know the role calls for subtlety, but that doesn’t mean you should shut down completely. Calling him a robot, though, might be insulting to such a cute, interesting robot like Wall-E. Anyway, it’s a GOOD performance. That’s all. In the end, Clooney’s asked to carry the whole movie, and he doesn’t have the chops to do it. He’s the film’s ultimate downfall. Michael Clayton would have been a lot more fascinating if Arthur Edens was the main character. Tom Wilkinson is a much more compelling leading man than Clooney could ever be. And while I’m on the subject of Wilkinson, his performance really is astonishing. He’s the heart of the film, and I don’t think he can do any wrong. Knock on wood, right?

Hey, I thought I had exhausted my complaints with the film, but I’ve come up with a couple more. My rant tank is almost empty, don’t worry. I think I’ll need a nap after I’m done writing. I don’t want to give too much away, but there are horses that are pretty significant to the story. All I’m going to say is that their presence makes NO sense and that what happens with Michael Clayton is totally unbelievable and out of character. He would never do what he does. It’s a gimmick, plain and simple. Also, I HATE the last shot of the film. I hate it. Nothing is revealed in it. There’s no point. It’s completely smug and self-congratulatory and obscenely superfluous. Another major flaw is that the film has no right to take itself as seriously as it does. It’s not good enough. Whew. I think I’ve finally got it all out.

Even though I’ve gone on and on about all the things that I think are wrong, incorrigible even, about Michael Clayton, I really don’t hate it. I know that might seem hard to believe after everything I’ve said, and I don’t want to come across as a hypocrite. I severely dislike it, but I don’t hate it. That’s the truth. I think the film is passably entertaining at times, it’s competently made, and the performances range from decent (Clooney) to great (Swinton) to excellent (Wilkinson), but overall I’m not left feeling much, nor do I care. It’s just not daring, fresh, or revolutionary, as I believe the filmmakers wanted it to be and, in fact, believe it to be. It’s by far the most overrated film of 2007. I frankly resent its acclaim and accolades. But, I AM judging it of its own accord. When I do that, the result is not a positive one. It’s a dull, been-there/done-that, below-average piece of filmmaking. At first, I thought it was average, not really good OR bad, just there. But the more I thought about it, I visualized the line of mediocrity, and Michael Clayton fell just below that line. It’s a bit worse than standard, run of the mill Hollywood. Sorry. That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.

And I just want to make this amply clear: my rating is as low as it is because of the many reasons I spouted off about in this review, and my rating is only as high as it is because of some of the acting, the barely adequate technical aspects, and its mild, sporadic entertainment value. I did find myself engaged occasionally, but mostly, I was annoyed, bored, or checking the elapsed versus remaining time on the DVD player.

Michael Clayton the Character is a “fixer.” How ironic. Tony Gilroy should have hired a "fixer" to clean up this mess of a film.

Rating: ** (out of 5)

Oh, and just to give you an idea of the significance of a two-star rating and what that means to me and how films measure up against each other (taking into account, among other factors, how much I enjoy watching them and how successful I think they are in what they set out to accomplish)... I gave Evan Almighty two and a half stars out of five.

He Said: Bill Treadway

Ah, the thinking man’s thriller. Where have you gone? All we get these days are the same, by-the-number jobs in which thrills and suspense have been supplanted by gore galore and uncreative plots. That is why a thriller such as Michael Clayton is such a joy. Here at last is a thriller that doesn’t insult my intelligence and manages to pack in some real thrills I couldn’t see coming.

This is the kind of film I keep hoping for from those John Grisham adaptations but never get. Veteran screenwriter Tony Gilroy, making his directorial debut, gets things started literally with a bang. Michael Clayton (George Clooney) is on his way from a poker game to meet with a client when he pulls over and gets out to take a look over a hill. His car promptly blows sky high. (Don’t worry - we do discover the reasons why - like Casino, it’s told in flashback). After that, my mind was racing to discover what other goodies Gilroy had up his sleeve.

He doesn’t disappoint. I don’t want to spoil too many of Gilroy’s nice surprises, so I’ll tread carefully here. Clayton is a Mr. Fix-It for a top law firm in New York City - a man who makes problems go away when they arise. One day, he receives a call: attorney Arthur Edens (Tom Wilkinson) has flipped out in court and is in a Milwaukee jail. Clayton flies out and frees Arthur, but Arthur escapes before Clayton has a chance to properly escort him to a mental institution. What Clayton uncovers is only the beginning of a labyrinth of double crosses, deceit and revenge. Pay close attention through all 119 minutes of this movie - blink and you’ll be lost. Gilroy doesn’t spoon feed his plot, instead forcing us to connect the dots on our own. What a relief and a pleasure it was to tax my brain instead of groaning through another predictable, easy to figure out plot.

Michael Clayton has been touted as a completely original thriller. Well, not quite - it does haul out some vintage chestnuts of the thinking man thriller - the evil corporate entity willing to do whatever it takes to get what it wants, the flawed hero who has enough problems for three people and the villain who isn’t as one dimensional as we think. But rarely has all of these elements worked so well in tandem and in such challenging, thoughtful fashion. That’s why I think most people think of Michael Clayton as an original - most thrillers are about as challenging as a child’s first rattle.

The cinematography is a major plus - nicely antiseptic yet a beauty to behold. Robert Elswit has done another award worthy job - he may have won for There Will Be Blood (deservedly so) but it was just as much for Michael Clayton. Elswit has that gift of making drab look so good - he did it in such films as 8MM and Hard Eight - and he reprises that accomplishment with the gritty, grayish tones here.

George Clooney may be the Sexiest Man Alive according to People Magazine, but he’s actually quite an underrated actor. Yeah, I know - he did win an Oscar, for his supporting turn in Syriana, but I don’t think many people realize what an effective actor he can be. After coasting along in junk like Batman and Robin and One Fine Day, Clooney took an about face and went after more interesting roles. (Hey, not everyone can survive a debacle like Return of the Killer Tomatoes and emerge with a career.)

Clooney’s performance in Michael Clayton is his best to date - worthy of the Oscar nomination it received. In fact, I think he should have won the damn award. Some will undoubtedly expect the Clooney charm at work here -with the exception of the final shot they’re going to be disappointed. Clooney keeps things very restrained and low-key. Clayton is a burned-out character with some serious flaws - his gambling addiction is one, not to mention the aforementioned family issues (if there’s a flaw, the movie lays this on a bit too thick). Having felt as burnt out and down as Clayton myself at times, I totally bought into his performance. It’s completely believable and real from start to finish.

Tilda Swinton DID manage to win an Oscar for her work here and deservedly so, in my opinion. It’s a challenging performance - to play a villain who has some shades of gray. It could have been over the top camp or cardboard villainy, but Swinton makes the character an interesting, quirky adversary. Tom Wilkinson was also nominated for his supporting turn as Arthur Edens, the “is he or isn’t he crazy” attorney. I likely would have voted for him since his wonderfully loopy and heartfelt performance is the grenade that sets everything else in motion. It’s another great Wilkinson portrayal, but when’s the last bad Wilkinson performance? Oh wait -Martin Lawrence’s 2001 “comedy” Black Knight.

Then there’s the ending, which has stirred much debate. Without giving away too much, I will say that at least it didn’t involve yet another boring shoot-out or car chase. It’s a variation of the double cross - similar to the twist finish of another thinking man’s thriller - Charley Varrick (1973), but just as satisfying. I particularly loved the final shot of the film, which had the same wink-in-the-eye feeling that The Sting (1973) had. Wow, two 1973 references in one paragraph. And I wonder why people think I’m older than my 28 years.

If you go to purchase Warner’s DVD, beware that there are separate editions out there. Both are single disc, but one is the dreaded full screen edition. Stores like Walmart and Duane Reade aren’t making it easy - they’re solely carrying the full screen edition. When will these chains learn that with rare exceptions, pan-and-scan is evil! The widescreen version is the one to get. You wouldn’t want to lose more than 60% of Robert Elswit’s Panavision photography, would you? The 2.40:1 anamorphic widescreen transfer is not as good as Warner’s usual standard- there is some pixilation, which irritates me to no end. Why should a 119 minute movie with only a commentary and a handful of deleted scenes suffer from compression issues? The audio mix fares much better. It’s Dolby Digital 5.1 Surround and it sounds great. Everything is perfectly heard with proper pitch and good balance.

Warner throws together a little bonus material - we get a feature length audio commentary from director Gilroy and his brother John, who edited the picture. It’s not a bad track - a bit too laid back at times and there are moments where their chatter gets too jokey for my taste - but there are some good nuggets of information and interesting insights shared here. It’s worth a listen for those who want to know more about this film. There are three deleted scenes - two of which would qualify as big time spoilers and a third which introduces an entirely new character - Clayton’s lawyer girlfriend (Jennifer Ehle). From what I have read online and in the papers, Ehle had a much larger presence originally aside from this one scene but all of her scenes were deleted for time purposes. I wonder why we only get the one scene here. Would it have hurt to include ALL of this material?

Michael Clayton made my Top 10 list for 2007 (it ranked at number 7) and rewatching it on DVD confirmed my initial thoughts about the film. It’s a superb return to the thinking man’s thriller, a genre that had gotten lost amid the brainless bloodbaths we are beaten over the head with each year. It deserved to fare better on Oscar night, but to be sure, that is a matter of debate. Rent the DVD and see if you agree with me.

Rating: ***** (out of 5)

Forget Sarah Marshall: Where Are Harold and Kumar?

I'm really excited about Forgetting Sarah Marshall. I'm sure it'll be another Judd Apatow slam-drunk. But seriously, I'm so sick of being attacked by Sarah Marshall ads everywhere I go (which I'll address in more detail in another post). They're on bus stops, buses themselves, the tops of cabs, and I see a commercial for it several times a day. Enough is enough! No need to oversell.

What a perfect segway for my next point: There's no need to oversell, but why isn't Harold & Kumar Escape from Guantanamo Bay being sold at all? New Line is totally underselling it. Why? I thought this was supposedly the movie New Line was banking on to save them or something to that effect. Maybe investing in some advertising would help. More than that, the film DESERVES proper marketing. Harold and Kumar traveled all the way to White Castle, and you reward them like this? I've seen the trailer in theaters a couple times, but other than that, I'm not seeing any ads around town, and I haven't seen one commercial on TV.

Harold & Kumar only comes out a week after Sarah Marshall, but I've been slapped upside the head with the Sarah Marshall ad campaign for practically a month already. It feels that long anyway. Why isn't Harold & Kumar getting any love? It's just as worthy as an Apatow film. Is it too controversial? Are they scared to market it? Whatever the reason, I'm not happy about it. Let's get something going. Promote away, oh advertising and marketing gods. Anytime now... I'm waiting...

No matter what, I'll be there opening weekend. I'm totally psyched to see my favorite stoner stereotype-busters back in action and taking on the War on Terror...with a little help from Neil Patrick Harris, of course.