John Talbott's Paris

Descendents: If The Artist had Oscar written all over it, this film has the Golden Globes in its sights.

Descendents is one of those movies that makes you think that Hollywood can still make great films. 

George Clooney has gone from being another pretty face to a fine actor, whose emotional range is on full display here and whose intelligence, body movements and sense of humor are a delight to watch.

And when do you see a movie where not one person in a cast of dozens, is miscast and where everyone from 10 year olds to aging monsters (like Beau Bridges) is superb?

A wonderful way to spend two hours.

The Artist - a movie that has Oscar writ large all over it, with good reason.

So it's Saturday and I'm allowed to go out of the stress sandwich I've lived in this week to the cinema -  and I did.

The Artist is almost totally a silent and always a Black & White film made about an acting/song&dance couple in Hollywood at the transition between silent films and talkies (stupid reference: the best film so far to cover this transition was Gene Kelly's Singing (sorry no Singin' will be found on these pages) in the Rain).

In any case, as usual, despite the fact that it had French and English subtitles, I was the only person in the Stalingrad house laughing and getting the 1927-1932 references.

The principals, Jean Dujardin, Bérénice Béjo and John Goodman (wow he's changed), are priceless, but the scene stealers are the best character actor in the business, James Cromwell, he who played Prince Phil in The Queen, as the butler/secretary/chauffeur/valet/dogsbody and the dog, that's right, the dog - one Uggy.

Go?  If you're an American over 70 years old, take 3 hankies and a ballot for the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences.

 

Sunday Cinema: The Woodmans,The Kids Are All right/Alright & The Girl Who....

The Woodmans is a very strange movie about an artistic family who lose their perceived most talented member to depression and suicide. I say “perceived” because her art is masochistically self-directed and painfully exhibitionistic, whereas her parents’ are exuberant and delightfully outer-directed. I had bad dreams all night (no kidding). It’s so, so Sundance.

The Kids are All Right was another Sundance favorite whose alternative title, The Kids are Alright, means quite another thing, doesn’t it? It’s this year’s ‘L” movie and ends on a weird note that leaves the viewer and male character, Paul, played by Mark Ruffalo, the only innocent victim, grabbing at a column of air. I cannot figure out for the life of me why it’s so popular.

The Girl Who Played with Fire is another of Stieg Larsson's Lisabet Salander entertainments; a wonderful way to blast away an afternoon.

Saturday Cinema: Ghost Writer and Invictus

Ghost Writer - why?  Invictus - Eastwood rules.

Dragon Tattoo (Sweden) 10 - Vincere (Italy) 0

I could tell you that in preparing for the World Cup I was some "perfect" lopsided scores but it wouldn't be true.

No, this is the weekend cinema score - The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo was terrific entertainment and Vincere was a painful yawn.

The Secret in Their Eyes (El secreto de sus ojos): A Saturday Cinema

Wow, Gosh, OMG, Jeez.

Like so many multi-layered, slippage of time thrillers, to describe the plot of The Secret in Their Eyes (El secreto de sus ojos) is to ruin it.  But let me say it is wonderfully written, beautifully acted, skillfully directed and as funny as a murder mystery can be.

Breakfast at Tiffany's: A Sunday Cinema

Breakfast at Tiffany's is one of the most perfect movies made.  I'm not sure who was the genius behind the idea of taking Truman Capote's rather thin story and making it a masterpiece that was a star vehicle for Audrey Hepburn, a star turn for Mickey Rooney and ensured a place in heaven for Henry Mancini and Johnny Mercer for Moonriver, but he or she deserves a place in Hollywood's pantheon.

It's amazing that BAT holds up so well 40 years later while other popular films of more recent times (Annie Hall, for example) wear out.

Once again, I commend United Airlines for following the suggestion many of us made to play one great old film a month.

John Malkovich is a hellova an actor in Disgrace.

What movies do you remember John Malkovich in?  None, right?  And yet, you consider him a fine actor, correct?

Well, grace au volcan Eyjafjallajokull, I travelled on Aer Lingus Dulles-Madrid trying to get home to Paris and as usual, perused the movie list.  Now, I'd read Disgrace and indeed had Summertime unread in my bag, and thought it great and impossible to do on film.

Well, I was wrong.  I'd read the reviews in the NYT, WSJ, NYObs and NYorker and and been turned off.  Too cool, too monotonous, too grave.  But that's what people (read critics) hate about Coetzee too.

Back to John Malkovich tho'.  He is a really fine actor, comfortable in his and his character's skin - like Barack Obama, interesting isn't it?

Best airplane movie of the year.

Young Frankenstein: Saturday Cinema

Funny, funny, funny.

Holds up after 36 years.

Saturday Cinema – Pirate Radio

Another perfect goofy airplane movie – Drugs, booze, rock 'n' roll (and women) – with all my generations’ faves – the Rolling Stones, Beach Boys, Jimi Hendrix and Procol Harum.

 

Ending a bit phony - but hey it’s only Rock 'n' Roll.