Antichrist (2009)

Todd McCarthy of Variety said it best, I think, when he said: "Lars Von Trier cuts a big fat art-film fart with ANTICHRIST." I couldn't have said it better myself.

Ever the craftsman, Von Trier built a reputation as an artist with films that often explore the insecurities of women. Though I have yet to see all of them, two of them, "Breaking the Waves" and "Dancer in the Dark," were among my 10 favorite films of the year in their respective years of release. I am still mesmerized and haunted by both of those movies.

Haunted, it turns out, will be a feeling I'll carry with me now that I've seen ANTICHRIST. Von Trier is quoted as saying that he thought up the film to help him get out of a deep depression. Thanks a lot, Lars. Because you've now thrown me into one. Or at least you've left me grasping in humiliation for ways to explain to my friends, co-workers and family why I sat through almost two hours of artistically-rendered hard core pornography and graphic, mutilation-glorifying violence. As a matter of fact, either my mouth was open in shock or my hands were literally covering my eyes for more than a half hour of the film. I didn't know that people actually did that...covering their eyes and peeking through their fingers, until I found myself doing it. And now I've seen what is for certain the craziest movie I've ever seen and I have no one to talk to about it. God forbid I recommend it to anyone. I'm not sure I could bear the conversation that would follow.

What will cause some critics to blindly applaud this film is the fact that it is so thoughtfully and even at times stunningly artistic. The opening scene is pure manipulation: a slow-motion, black and white look at a couple engaged in real sex (yes, with on-screen penetration) that is so electrifying that it continues in multiple rooms in their apartment, all while their toddler son is in the process of climbing out of his crib and up to (and eventually out of) a window sill. He falls to his death, preceded by his stuffed animal. It's in slow motion, gorgeously filmed, and set to a Handel aria. It looks dreamy, but the horror of the narrative, of course, is the fact that it is not a dream.

He (Willem Dafoe) and She (Charlotte Gainsbourg) (no actual names are used) are devastated by their loss, as we'd expect. And, as is realistic, the loss of their child causes them to grieve in different ways that threaten their relationship. This is a concept that is profoundly explored in the play "Rabbit Hole," which is soon to be a feature film itself. Here, we find that He turns rational, contemplative and emotionally restrained, helped by the fact that he is some kind of psychologist or therapist. She loses her mind and is checked in for psychiatric care because she is grieving "abnormally."

At first, I found it to be strikingly interesting that He continues to care for his wife by focusing more on his role as a therapist than on his role as a husband, with only sexual intercourse as a reminder of their intimate relationship. And the sex, by the way, happens frequently in the film and at the most stunningly bizarre moments. Whenever the two argue, one of them seems to be naked from the waist down, as if to say that intercourse has to happen at that point since they're halfway there.

After a while, however, I grew frustrated with the way He all but gives up on being a loving, understanding husband. He throws away her pills and forces her to confront her fears directly, mapping them out on a sheet of paper as a pyramid with her greatest fear(s) a question mark at the top point. Learning that a cabin in the woods where the family would vacation, called Eden, is a spot of particular anguish for her, he loads up the camping equipment and forces her to face it.

Then, the film becomes a horror film. The great outdoors become, as She refers to them, "Satan's church." And it's no coincidence that we refer to nature as female (Mother Nature), because Von Trier goes all misogynistic from this point on, the woman becoming the root of all evil, whether she be Mother Nature or just a grief-stricken wife and mother. There's not enough sex to make the pain go away and too much guilt to overcome. How could her child die in her moment of great personal pleasure? Before the end of the film, she will make both of them pay for it. Throw in some creepy woodland animals to represent the stages of grief outlined by Von Trier's chapter titles and references to her thesis work studying witchcraft (among other things), and you've got yourself a Saw film in the hands of an auteur.

In a striking visual towards the end of the film, the couple has sex (again) at the base of a hollowed-out tree in the forest, and we see human limbs sprouting from the tree. (That's the best I can explain it.) If you defy my advice and watch ANTICHRIST, you should seriously consider stopping the film at this point. I can't think of anything that can justify the final 20 minutes. They are filled with some of the most unthinkable visuals I have ever seen. I will not be able to wipe my brain clean again.

I have decided that ANTICHRIST is the new litmus test for the film arterati. There are certain to be some who will feel as though they can defend it and justify what it stands for. Those folks will have a hard time convincing me that there is anything of value in this film. Von Trier made it because he could. He seeks controversy from audiences for the sake of it, just as Madonna was accused of doing in the early half of her career. The only difference is, Madonna could justify her provocations. Von Trier cannot.

ANTICHRIST is not a fruitful study of what a couple goes through when they lose a child. It is not a work of feminism, either. In fact, it portrays female sexuality as a gift from Satan, rather than God. I must admit that I could not turn away from watching ANTICHRIST despite on two occasions telling myself - out loud - to turn it off or walk away. I watched it in that sick gaper's way that we look at car accidents. There is no more reasonable way to explain this film's appeal.

The sex in ANTICHRIST is not erotic. The psychology of the film is not revealing or helpful. The struggle of the couple is not cathartic. So what is ANTICHRIST? Well, as I said before, it's a trainwreck. A cinematic accident. And like all good accidents, you will never forget it. You'll only wish that you could. I refused to be seduced by Von Trier's attempts at art. And some day, I'll forgive myself for watching...

1.0 out of 4

Crazy Heart (2009)

If Bad Blake, the main character of the Oscar-nominated CRAZY HEART, was a real country music icon instead of a fictional one, he would be a member of the Highwaymen. Acting great Jeff Bridges is so fantastic at playing Blake that you forget he isn't real. You can easily imagine him working with Waylon and Willy, Kristofferson and Cash.

One thing is certain, and that's the fact that Bad Blake has no place in the modern world of corporate country, the demographic-friendly and Target-sponsored artists of the day who throw a steel pedal guitar onto a pop song and wear cowboy boots to call it country. Country music used to only for those who lived it, not for those who idealized it. George Jones. Patsy Cline. Bad Blake.

"In today's world of artificial country, who's real country?" This question is posed to a half-intoxicated Blake (he's always at least half-intoxicated) by Jean Craddock, a reporter who catches up with him after a gig at a bowling alley, the type of venue a now-old-fashioned country singer like Blake is now relegated to. Blake is slow to answer, a pause followed by a little snicker precedes his response.

The answer, of course, is that Blake himself is "real country." Numbed by years of heavy drinking and hard living, his gift for songwriting has been interrupted like the rest of his life by whiskey. "Where do all the songs come from?" Jean asks him. "Life, unfortunately," he responds. He's content to sing his old songs; maybe he thinks he has nothing new to say that would be of interest to today's country fans who care more about short skirts and who's tractor is sexy.

But the bowling alley gigs are not by choice. In fact, it's the best he can do in his condition and at his current status level. Unless you count opening for Tommy Sweet. A younger protege of Blake's and current country mega-star, Sweet seems genuinely honored to have Blake opening for him. He makes every effort to tell anyone who has no idea who Bad Blake is how this man taught him everything he knows. Sweet's idolatry of Blake feels sincere enough, and even his own presentation as a performer seems more authentic than a lot of the current batch of not-quite-country artists, if you can overlook the gel in his perfectly ponytailed hair and his runway-quality stubble.

I've felt like avoiding a direct recap of the plot of CRAZY HEART because the plot itself is the film's weak point, a well-worn and frequently-told story of a washed-up, former icon trying to make a comeback, fueled by his love for a new woman in his life who knows better than to give in to his crooked charms, does, is hurt by him, wakes up and leaves him. Does this sound like "The Wrestler"? Many people think it does, myself included. And indeed, it's a bit of a shame that the story of this film isn't unique enough to take it to the next level.

But sometimes, acting can make up the difference. And as with "The Wrestler," the same is true here. Bridges is ridiculously good. As Rourke did in his film, Bridges delivers a performance that feels as if it was born from his own life. It feels like anything but acting itself. More impressive than Rourke is the fact that Blake is very different from Bridges, whereas Rourke's character didn't feel that different from his life. From the singing and guitar playing to the painful nights spent lying in his underwear on the bathroom floor, Bridges does not breach believability for a second.

And he's not the only one who makes the film worth watching! Maggie Gyllenhaal is only a surprise Oscar nominee until you actually see her performance. Then, it's no surprise at all. She is excellent here, heartbreaking and only slightly fragile. You never wonder why a woman like her would fall for a man like Blake because Gyllenhaal never allows us to let that thought creep in. She is charmed by him, and we can see it.

Colin Farrell is a surprisingly good country singer as Tommy Sweet, and Robert Duvall (who also starred in a movie as a country singer and won an Oscar for it) is in classic form in a small role. Perhaps the other great performance in this film, however, goes to the songs. Producer T Bone Burnett shaped all of these numbers and Bridges agreed to do the film only with his involvement. Given the film's mediocre and done-before story, we get the sense that only the quality of the music itself elevates the film above the average.

The musical focal point is the song "The Weary Kind," first heard in the film as Blake lays in Jean's bed after sustaining a leg injury, a result of flipping his pickup truck on a country road. It's a good song, for sure. But it becomes a great song when it makes Jean cry. She can't believe that Bad Blake is writing a song in her bed. She tells him that she won't be able to lay in her bed again without remembering that he wrote it there and hearing it in her head. Now, the song is a masterpiece.

Despite the worn plot, it should be said that CRAZY HEART does possess some great plot moments, such as when a hero-worshiping Tommy Sweet sneaks on stage to trade verses with Blake on one of his hits and, in the process, unintentionally steals much of his thunder. The innocence and joy in Farrell's eyes meets the fatigue and irritation in Bridges'. And even though Bad Blake isn't a real country artist, he's "real country."

3.0 out of 4

Nine (2009)

Six months ago, the anticipation for NINE was at a 10. With an astounding who's who of Oscar-winning and nominated actors and the director of the Best Picture-winning "Chicago" on board to bring another Tony-winning musical to the big screen.

So what happened?

NINE did not do very well, with critics or with audiences. I finally got a chance to see it, and I must confess that I did not despise it as others have. I did not hate it as some of my friends did. And I feel a little guilty to admit that I'd rather be watching a film like NINE than most of the stuff that's out there. But I will say this: NINE didn't work. That's the best way I know how to put it.

So I've been doing some thinking about why NINE didn't work, and I've come up with the following ideas, presented here in stream-of-conscience rather than order of importance:

1. Rob Marshall's concept for NINE was too similar to "Chicago."

Marshall reenergized the Broadway musical on the movie screen with his gutsy and creative vision of "Chicago" as, essentially, a musical taking place inside of the head of the story's main character. The concept was, frankly, brilliant. The original stage show always felt like more of a review than a full-blown narrative journey, and Marshall also came up with an idea that completely takes off the table the criticism that many have of musicals, which is the dislike for the whole "breaking out into song thing." With "Chicago," it seemed perfectly feasible that Roxy Hart, stuck on death row, would use her imagination to escape. The glossy and colorful production numbers were also in keeping with the concept of the media circus that surrounds criminal investigations and turns killers into national celebrities.

With NINE, Marshall mines an identical concept. This time, a famous Italian film director, Guido Contini (Daniel Day-Lewis) is in crisis over the creation of his latest project, tortured by his own guilt and infidelity. And just as with "Chicago," Contini will stare off into space, anguished in thought, and the person of whom he's thinking or the woman he's looking at will go into a glitsy production number. In doing so, Marshall shoots himself in the foot as an innovator of the film musical, because he's mostly repeating his last musical.

It must be said that this is actually the way the original Broadway musical "Nine" works. If anything, Marshall applied the "Nine" strategy to "Chicago." But "Chicago" came first, and it was better. A lot better.

2. Marshall's changes to the original musical might have done more damage than good.

Many people will see NINE without having first seen Fellini's "8 1/2" (upon which the musical is based) or having seen or heard either the original stage production or recent revival of the musical. These folks will have no idea that Marshall makes some serious changes to the show, and they are changes that I don't feel are for the better. To conserve space and save time, I'll list a few of those changes without elaborating:

The character of "young Guido" is severely reduced and underused in the film.

Half of the songs in the musical, including some of its best numbers, are cut from the film.

New songs are added in at Marshall's own risk. One, "Take it All," is a highlight of the film. Another, "Cinema Italiano," is a huge mistake and a focus-pulling embarrassment.

The concept of Catholic guilt, a significant and driving force in both Fellini's work and the original musical, is only cosmetically hinted at here, when it needed to be a driving force.

3. The film version of NINE lacks narrative build.

Essentially, the main character of NINE is a film-maker who is almost never seen working on his craft. If he had been a car driver, we could buy it more, as Day-Lewis spends most of NINE driving around in his spiffy sports car. Guido doesn't evolve much over the course of the film. He is cantankerous and unlikeable at the beginning and remains so at the end. The only way he grows is in his ability to take his lecherous life and, in theory, make some art from it. But that's not enough to get us to like the guy. Most of us know that a character needs to grow and change to make a film interesting. Is it change enough that Guido stops himself from sleeping with an American fashion reporter (Kate Hudson)? I wasn't sold.

In addition, Marshall's streamlining of the original musical left the show with, essentially, one musical number for each of the film's stars, a structure that too quickly reveals itself and then grows tired. Day-Lewis and Marion Cotillard (the best thing in NINE) are supposed to be the "leads" here, so they each get two numbers. But then, the film lines up Judi Dench, Sophia Loren, Kate Hudson, Fergie, Nicole Kidman and Penelope Cruz and gives each a song. And the dramatic art of the film remains flat and stagnant. The story is designed in such a way that these women don't really interact with one another, either, so the musical numbers lack the ensemble work of better shows. The closest NINE comes to an ensemble number is the opening dream sequence, where few words are actually sung and each woman appears as an introduction to the audience.

One of the reasons why I refer to NINE as a movie that "didn't work" rather than a "bad movie" is because I don't think the original musical is that spectacular, either. We can blame Marshall for a lot of what I mentioned above, but it's important to note that the original concept wasn't so different. Marshall's really most at fault for not being able to transform the mediocre into something better. It started mediocre and remains so.

I would stop short of saying that NINE isn't worth your time for the following reasons:

1. Marion Cotillard

Why this woman was not nominated for either this film or her work in "Public Enemies" is a bit of a crime. Cotillard anchors NINE. Perhaps her Oscar-winning work as Edith Piaf in "La Vie en Rose" was training for her work here, but she sells her numbers ("My Husband Makes Movies" and "Take It All") more convincingly than anyone else in the film, with the possible exception of Fergie, an actual singer who humps her way through "Be Italian" in lingerie. There is criticism of "Take It All" in that Cotillard, as the cheated-on wife, is forced to strip to undergarments like most of the other women in the film, but I would argue that the number calls for it -- the shedding of clothes is much more symbolic, metaphorical, here. Cotillard just hit the top 10 of my favorite actress list this year, and her performance here is part of the reason why.

2. The other actresses

Judi Dench kills with a huge production number. Is there anything this woman cannot do? Sophia Loren's very presence brings prestige and emotional power to NINE. While Kate Hudson's over-edited and hammy lyric-filled song don't work, her non-singing moments in the film are quite good. She's downright sexy. As is, of course, Penelope Cruz, though I would have nominated Cotillard over Cruz in a heartbeat...what is it with the Oscars and tramps? Kidman reprises her breathy, simple song delivery, first introduced to us in "Moulin Rouge!," but her stunning beauty makes her completely believable as Contini's cinematic muse. And Fergie completely works in her role as a mysterious prostitute who teaches a young Guido about love and sex.

Notice I didn't mention Daniel Day-Lewis. While I respect him tremendously, I found his work here to be not that much different from his work in "There Will Be Blood" in that, though he is far less over-the-top in a musical than in that film (which is saying something about TWBB), he is similarly unlikeable and non-redeemable as a character. All brooding and angsty. The singing was not great, and Marshall was right to edit Guido's vocal moments down to a minimum. And then there's the issue of Day-Lewis' "Italian-ness." There wasn't any, short of a good accent.

3. The production values

Say what you want about Rob Marshall, but the man knows how to put on a show. The costumes and set designs are fabulous and deliver as a movie musical should. It's clear that Marshall doesn't have an auteur's grasp over how to use a camera yet, with spastic cross-cutting dominating some song numbers and much more steady, quiet work in other places, but NINE looks fantastic, as it should. Even if you don't enjoy NINE in the end, the journey is always worth looking at. And the fact that Marshall can assemble a cast like this is proof that the film community takes his talent seriously. I would really like to see him continue on with additional film versions of musicals.

This was probably too long of a review for a mediocre film, but I'm very passionate about Broadway musicals and thrilled to see the musical back on the big screen with some regularity. Recent big-screen adaptations of shows like "Rent" and "The Producers" have not done well in movie theatres, and NINE belongs in that pile, not the pile that contains "Chicago" and "West Side Story." But I'd have rather had NINE than not, even if, on a scale of 1-to-10, it was more like a 5.

2.5 out of 4

In the Loop (2009)

Not even five minutes in to Armando Innucci's IN THE LOOP, based loosely on a British TV series, the communications director to the prime minister refers to diarrhea as "ass-spraying mayhem."

IN THE LOOP, you had me at hello. A master class of profanity and intellectually superior insults, IN THE LOOP tells the behind the scenes story of what happens when Britain's mild-mannered Prime Minister Simon Foster is recorded in an interview as saying that a war waged by the US and UK in the Middle East is "unforseeable." His verbal faux pas is not in line with the rest of the government's thinking, and Foster's attempts to rectify his image problem dig him a deeper hole.

Foster is backed, no make that manipulated, by Malcolm Tucker, played like a tea and crumpets version of Tony Montana by the genius Peter Capaldi, who was excellent this past summer in the recent Torchwood miniseries. If you think the quote I included earlier was foul, know that it comes close to being one of the few things I can even get away with saying here. Tucker has an f-word or three for everyone in his path and explodes off of a whif of incompetence.

What IN THE LOOP is really about, however, is the concept of bullshit (sorry, no other way to say it). To sit and watch the characters in this film spin ideas and language around until original intentions are misplaced or reformed is to get a real glance (even in a work of fiction) of how governments twist and lie. And while that should make us angry, it is a device employed to hilarious effect here. So manipulated is the logic of IN THE LOOP's verbal sparring that one of the film's most quiet and deeply philosophical moments centers around a debate in the back seat of a limo as to whether or not doing what is wrong is, perhaps, more heroic than doing what is right. After all, it takes balls to fly in the face of acting in good and clean conscience, and these guys do it every day.

The actual plot of IN THE LOOP is complicated enough that explaining it here might confuse you further, though you have to trust me that it is not in the least confusing when you're watching the film. It involves, as one would suspect, a supporting cast of lower-level players leaking documents and spinning statements. What the film never does is involve either Tony Blair or George Bush. In fact, neither name is spoken in the film. The movie smartly reminds us how many people are working their butts off to have the privilege of telling our figure-head leaders what to think. Tucker is quick to point out, both physically and verbally, how hard he is working, seen at one time sprinting across Pennsylvania Avenue and yelling into a cell phone that he's "sweating spinal fluid."

While Capaldi is the performance centerpiece of IN THE LOOP, he is surrounded by solid supporting players. Exchanges between Mimi Kennedy and James Gandolfini as an American diplomat and general, respectfully, are frequently naughty and consistently funny. Tom Hollander makes Simon Foster a lovable screw up, the only political screw up "visible from space," we learn at one point when a British newspaper features a cartoon of Foster sitting atop the Great Wall of China. And, surprisingly, former child star Anna Chlumsky, still completely recognizable as the girl from "My Girl," has wit and bite as an intern.

But the star of IN THE LOOP is the language and the writing, and it won't be a surprise to anyone who watches this movie why it received a nomination for the Adapted Screenplay Oscar this year, even if that nod likely came at the expense of "Fantastic Mr. Fox," probably the only other film that could match this one for punchlines and sheer wit. Whether one character is referring to another as a "Nazi Julie Andrews" for referring to the impending conflict as a mountain of conflict to be climbed or classical music played loudly becomes as irritating as heavy metal to another character - "Turn that f-ing racket off! It's just VOWELS! Subsidized, foreign vowels!" - IN THE LOOP, I suspect, will become a movie-quoter's delight. Try checking out the "memorable quotes" section of the film's IMDB listing...it goes on for days.

I've read some negative reviews of the film that state that there's nobody likable in IN THE LOOP, no character you can root for or get behind. This is true. But sometimes, even though it's rarely, you can enjoy a film without one in that "Glengarry Glen Ross" sort of way. Clever, Mamet-y cursing, after all, can be just as entertaining as watching characters with morals who do the right thing...or the wrong thing to demonstrate their heroism.

3.5 out of 4

Food, Inc. (2009)

FOOD, INC. has the highest profile of the five films nominated for this year's Best Documentary Feature Oscar, thanks, in large part, to Oprah Winfrey, who recently used her show as a platform for promoting the movie. "Everyone in America needs to see this movie" was the gist of her message. And truthfully, I can't say that I disagree. It is amazing what we don't know about where our food is coming from.

But here's a statement I have to make that might make you think differently of me, yet I'll go ahead and say it. Should we care? Because FOOD, INC. does a fantastic job of illustrating a frustrating problem, but does little to provide concrete steps for change. The film is structured like an underdeveloped high school Oratory/persuasive speech. It is long on problems and, in the final minutes, takes a "write your congressmen and vote with your wallet" type approach to the solution.

My eyes were opened by watching FOOD, INC. in the same way that they were opened by watching "The Cove" or "Supersize Me," the latter of which has a noticeable stylistic influence (if not a tone influence) over this film. I would argue that, from a pure filmmaking standpoint, FOOD, INC. is nothing more than a slick example of the modern assembly line-style of documentary filmmaking. There are no clever conventions employed, no unexpected interviews. These documentaries look like they were edited with iMovie and focus more on the message than the means. Maybe that's not such a bad thing. It's a technique of simplistic clarity that won Oscars for movies like "An Inconvenient Truth."

My preference, however, is toward documentary films that take gambles with the medium of film itself. I could have read the contents of FOOD, INC. in a book; I didn't have to see it on the screen. But the recreations of Philippe Petit's World Trade Center tightrope walk in "Man on Wire" or the jaw-dropping home video footage of a family in turmoil in "Capturing the Friedmans"...or the brilliant parallel editing of raw audio and video footage of the original production of "A Chorus Line" with new footage of the revival's audition process in the criminally not-nominated "Every Little Step"... those are far more satisfying film viewing experiences, and just as informative.

The first hour of FOOD, INC. is devoted mostly to explaining how meat is processed, spending time (with graphic details) on chicken, pork and beef. Some viewers might be shocked and saddened by the treatment of the animals. They are corn-fed to be oversized and become too fat to walk. They stand in their own waste. They are dropped, while alive, down chutes to be killed, or kicked and whipped into crates to be loaded on trucks to be killed. Are the animals mistreated? Yes. And you can hate me if you want to for not caring a whole lot about that, except for the standing in their own waste part. Because, and I'm sorry, that's the only thing out of those injustices that will really affect me.

For an hour, authors and food activists Eric Schlosser (Fast Food Nation) and Michael Pollan (The Omnivore's Dilemma) guide audiences through a frustrating vortex of injustices and unfathomable conditions. But the movie never gets to the part where the audience feels like anything can be done about it. In its final half-hour, the part I found most engaging and enraging, we are presented with a case study of one company (Monsanto) who essentially owns the majority of the nation's soybean seeds because, as we learn, if you've genetically altered something that exists naturally in nature, you can then patent and own it. So yeah...a company owns soybeans. And we watch as Monsanto employees, like secret shoppers, travel around to farms and expose farmers who clean their own seeds for replanting instead of using the Monsanto seeds that resist the effects of chemical pesticides. These farmers are taken to court, forced to rat out all of their friends, and then must settle either before trial or quickly into it for hundreds of thousands of dollars to avoid the millions they don't have to sustain litigation. And then the farmers are broke, finished. I was livid.

Indeed, the Monsanto case was deserving of its own film, and as a viewer, I felt a lot more sympathy for the American farmer than I ever do for the mistreatment of the poor chickens in dark, crowded pens. Those chickens are being bred to be dead. These farmers are working to live. Something is wrong with our sympathies if we miss the pecking order here, pun intended.

In many other moments of FOOD, INC., interesting arguments are made but not carefully or fully explored. Farmers debate whether cutting deals with Wal-Mart is morally wrong, because companies like Wal-Mart are the purveyors of the existing climate that has meat being produced in such bulk and so quickly by so few companies. The film shows Wal-Mart earning its bonus points for carrying some organic products, and it's refreshing to see the often-bashed company participating in the film when every other single company brought to task in the film refused to be interviewed. But when we see footage of Stonyfield's yogurt operation, it doesn't look much different than any other plant. It is equally mechanically-driven and assembly line-like in function. So what makes it better? Is organic a genuine improvement, or is that word a label that makes us think it's better? Who can we even trust? The film never says.

If FOOD, INC. had the guts it proposes to have, it would have scrolled a list at the end of the film of companies that we can trust and support. Director Robert Kenner reveals the names of the guilty with zeal but inexplicably prevents us from being led down the path to righteousness. Say I'm ready to spend more on my meat if it's going to be from cows that eat grass and are treated humanely (before they are butchered). What store do I go to for that? What label do I look for? FOOD, INC. quickly scrolls tips onscreen at the end like "buy foods when they are in season," "buy from local farmers" and "ask your school district to provide healthy lunches."

LIP SERVICE!

What I learned from watching FOOD, INC. -- and don't get me wrong...I'm grateful for learning it -- is that the problem the movie uncovers is a governmental problem, not an agricultural industry problem. The movie claims that farmers will produce whatever the people want, but people don't even know what their options are. And after you see a scene showing a court decision to allow a company to withhold identifying cloned animal meat as such on its labels for fear of freaking out consumers (are you kidding me??), you'll wrap up your viewing with the disgusting feeling that no label you'll ever read will be truthful and accurate. Maybe we can only eat what we want because we'll die anyway.

I want to eat healthier products. I want to eat food that truly nourishes my body. I want my money to go to the livelihood of the American farmer, the true victim in all of this (because consumers can choose not to eat things, but these farmers are screwed). But I still don't really know how. FOOD, INC. is a persuasive speech with a weak solutions section. What little advice it offers at the end is vague, dreamy and, ultimately, depressing. We are presented with a litany of misfortune, told not to buy the offending products after being told that pretty much every product in the store qualifies as one, and then given the weak hope that the industry can see the kind of change that was brought to the tobacco industry. I am reminded that THAT struggle took about 50 years, so I expect I'll be dead before the food industry will improve at a similar rate.

As I sit here with a plate of antibiotically-enhanced scrambled eggs, a piece of preservative-filled toast and cup of fictitiously-labeled Columbian coffee with chemically-processed cream, I've come to the conclusion that FOOD, INC. was the most depressing film I've seen all year.

2.0 out of 4

Reviewing the Best Animated Short Oscar Nominees

Thanks to the Internet, I celebrated today's announcement of the Academy Award nominations - both good ("The Hurt Locker"!) and bad ("The Blind Side"?) by going straight to one of the categories that contains films that almost no one ever sees: the animated short film category.  And much to my delight, I was able to find all five nominees for this year's Oscar online quite easily!  

Short films are fun because you can watch so many of them in little time.  This year, for instance, it will take you about 70 minutes to watch all five of the nominees, and there isn't a bad one in the bunch.  

To peak your interest, here's what's nominated, what they're about, and what I thought of them.  And though I really liked all of them, I am ranking them in order from least to most favorite:

5. THE LADY AND THE REAPER (La Dama y la Muerte)

Though the animation is perhaps the most bright and crisp in this film of the five nominees, the subject feels like one I've seen before.  This one has the least to say, really.  It's about an old woman who is ready to die and join her husband in heaven when, just as the Grim Reaper takes her hand, a hero surgeon revives her.  There might be a political statement about the right-to-die in here, but it's a little too silly for that.  And plot-wise, a little simple.  Running time: 8 minutes. (3.0 out of 4)

4. GRANNY O'GRIMM'S SLEEPING BEAUTY

Again, the animation itself here made me gasp, it's so good.  But again, this one isn't about much.  I give it the slight edge over "The Lady and the Reaper" because the Granny character is so funny.  This one is simply a grandmother attempting to put her granddaughter to sleep with a bedtime story, but the story is such a twisted, dark and violent take on "Sleeping Beauty" that the child is traumatized instead.  Pay special attention to the very end as Granny leaves - what she says and what she sings are priceless.  Running time: 6 minutes. (3.o out of 4)

3.  FRENCH ROAST 

Here's a great example of how a short film can have a lot of heart and a message in such a small timeframe.  "French Roast" features a patron at a French cafe who rejects a panhandler looking for change and then, when it comes time for him to pay his bill, discovers that he is without his wallet.  Mortified, he instead orders many more espressos until he can come up with a plan to pay.  I won't give away what happens, but it's witty and touching.  Running time: 8 minutes. (3.o out of 4)

2.  WALLACE AND GROMIT IN: "A MATTER OF LOAF AND DEATH"

Nick Park is the god of the Animated Short Oscar category and an Oscar darling.  He has won this category three times before, twice for Wallace and Gromit shorts.  In addition, a Wallace and Gromit feature, "The Curse of the Were-Rabbit," won the Oscar in the Animated Feature category a few years ago.  This year's entry, "A Matter of Loaf and Death" is, at almost a half hour in length, the longest of the nominees and, thus, the most plot-driven and fleshed-out.  This time around, the lovable dope and his wise dog are operating a mechanically-driven bakery when Wallace falls in love with a rival baker who turns out to be not what she seems.  Just as Wallace gets engaged, Gromit discovers that his master's fiancee is a serial killer...of bakers...and she's going for a baker's dozen.  Another instant classic from Nick Park, with a particularly inspired scene involving a recreation of the pottery scene from "Ghost," but with dough.  Running time: 29 minutes. (3.5 out of 4)

1.  LOGORAMA  

"Logorama" is a copyright nightmare, and so unexpectedly and shockingly irreverent and funny that it takes you by surprise.  A high-speed cops and robbers chase through a cartoon world made up of every corporate logo you can possibly think of has two foul-mouthed Michelin men in pursuit of a hostage-taking, cigarette-smoking, machine gun-wielding Ronald McDonald.  The Michelin cops have a scene of dialogue that will remind you of Samuel L. Jackson and John Travolta in "Pulp Fiction."  Keep your eyes open for a gay Mr. Clean as a tour guide and an ass-grabbing Mr. Pringles.  You won't believe how clever the integration of the logos are in this gem of a short.  Whether or not it's a political statement about the over-advertising of our culture, "Logorama" is a profanity-laced, hip joy ride.  I was not expecting what I got, and I can't wait to watch it again!  Running time: 16 minutes.  Note: I could only find this one in two pieces on YouTube, but there's nothing missing from it. (4.0 out of 4)

Keith's Oscar Predictions!

By this time tomorrow, we'll know who the nominees are for the 2009 Academy Awards. Given the pervasive nature of the award show season and the heavy blogging and campaigning on the Internet, it feels like we already know who most of the nominees are.

Indeed, the advent of the Internet has made it simultaneously easier and more anguishing for me to predict the nominees. I tend to do very well at this and I have a strong track record (though I don't have the specifics in front of me at the moment). But I also second-guess a lot of things, and you'll notice that when you read my prediction.

The format I use for my nomination predictions is the same one I've used for the past decade or so. I attempt to predict who will be nominated in the "big" categories: Picture, Director and the four acting categories. I predict the five nominees and provide two alternates that I think could sneak in. I give myself a point for each one I get right and a half-point for alternates. This used to total 40 points, but now it will total 45 because of the expansion of the Best Picture race to 10 nominees. Then, I tack on what I call "The 10," which is a list of 10 random nominees from any of the other categories I feel certain will be nominated.

I don't suppose I'll ever be confident in my list, and if I wait too much longer, the actual nominations will be out. So here goes nothin'...

BEST PICTURE

As a guy who predicts these things every year, expanding this category from 5 to 10 nominees sucks because I'm rarely off by more than one, and now I stand the risk of being off by three or so. What I know for sure here is what EVERY pundit knows for sure, and that is the fact that if this had been any other year, the five nominees would be: AVATAR, THE HURT LOCKER, INGLORIOUS BASTERDS, PRECIOUS and UP IN THE AIR. With room for double that, I suspect that the somewhat fading INVICTUS is still a good bet, as is AN EDUCATION, a film that fully deserves such recognition. That leaves me with the final three and about seven or eight films to choose from to fill it.

My picks: Avatar, An Education, The Hurt Locker, Inglorious Basterds, Invictus, The Messenger, Precious, A Serious Man, Up, Up in the Air
My alternates: District 9, The Blind Side
Second guessing myself: The Blind Side doesn't deserve it, but I get a sinking feeling that it could get in. I'd rather believe that a mass-public spot could go to either The Hangover or Star Trek. Is there room for more than one sci-fi choice for Best Picture? If so, District 9 seems to be the second choice after Avatar. The Messenger feels like an Oscar-bait picture, but did enough people see it? Can A Serious Man get in just because it's the Coens? Could This Is It get in there? Now that there are 10 nominees, is there no excuse to avoid adding an animated film if it truly deserves it? Is there room for popular comedy now, or just more quirky indies?

BEST DIRECTOR

This one is easy and I'm no different than anyone else; it's not the category to take risks with.

My picks: Kathryn Bigelow (The Hurt Locker), James Cameron (Avatar), Lee Daniels (Precious), Jason Reitman (Up in the Air), Quentin Tarantino (Inglorious Basterds)
My alternates: Clint Eastwood (Invictus), Neill Blomkamp (District 9)
Second guessing myself: Daniels seems the weakest here, but the alternates seem weaker still. I'm fairly confident about this one.

BEST ACTOR

This is another category that just everyone seems to be in agreement. I am incredibly passionate about one of my alternates and wish he'd knock one off here, but I don't expect him to.

My picks: Jeff Bridges (Crazy Heart), George Clooney (Up in the Air), Colin Firth (A Single Man), Morgan Freeman (Invictus), Jeremy Renner (The Hurt Locker)
My alternates: Ben Foster (The Messenger), Viggo Mortensen (The Road)
Second guessing myself: Foster deserves this as much as anyone else here, but there's not going to be enough room for him, and I think the surprises will come in other categories. There's little reason to worry about anything else I've picked here.

BEST ACTRESS

You won't find many differences among anyone's lists in this category, either. Fear not...it gets exciting after this!

My picks: Sandra Bullock (The Blind Side), Helen Mirren (The Last Station), Carey Mulligan (An Education), Gabourey Sidibe (Precious), Meryl Streep (Julie & Julia)
My alternates: Emily Blunt (The Young Victoria), Abbie Cornish (Bright Star)
Second guessing myself: Who's seen The Last Station? I was this close to switching out Helen Mirren for Blunt, who could be a surprise upset here. But in the end, I couldn't take this risk. Is Marion Cotillard loved enough to be a possible spoiler here? I certainly love her that much. Maybe she's a supporting actress candidate?

BEST SUPPORTING ACTOR

Now it gets interesting. Waltz is the gimme, and the likely eventual winner. Harrelson seems like a safe bet. But I'm sorry...no matter how many critics are picking Tucci, Damon and Plummer, I'm not convinced that any of them are sure things. There will probably be a surprise here!

My picks: Matt Damon (Invictus), Woody Harrelson (The Messenger), Christian McKay (Me and Orson Welles), Christopher Plummer (The Last Station), Christof Waltz (Inglorious Basterds)
My alternates: Stanley Tucci (The Lovely Bones), Alfred Molina (An Education)
Second guessing myself: Honestly, Damon isn't that special here, and at one point, I pulled him from my list. But I'm wondering if Hollywood's love for Damon and the fact that the Best Actor list is too crowded for his work in The Informant! will keep him here. Tucci was originally on my list and I switched him out for McKay, but that's a shaky bet. Tucci is much-loved and never-nominated. McKay is playing Orson Welles. I'm counting on an impressive imitation of one of Hollywood's biggest legends of all-time to trump an actor with two excellent supporting performances this year, which could split his votes. As for An Education, I like Peter Sarsgaard even better than Molina and still think it's not impossible to hear his name. I have a lot of reservations here and feel like only Waltz and Harrelson are locks. It's been a long time since I've scored less than a 2.5 in any category. Could that happen here this year?

BEST SUPPORTING ACTRESS

This list seemed like a lock about a month ago, but not everyone is scrambling. The SAG cast award for Inglorious Basterds makes it feel like more than one actor from that film should be nominated. If that happens, which of the two will it be, Kruger or Laurent? There won't be room for two ladies from any other film aside from Up in the Air. Someone's getting in here who wasn't nominated for a SAG or any other major awards. But I'm not sure who...

My picks: Vera Farmiga (Up in the Air), Anna Kendrick (Up in the Air), Melanie Laurent (Inglorious Basterds), Mo'Nique (Precious), Samantha Morton (The Messenger)
My alternates: Julianne Moore (A Single Man), Maggie Gyllenhaal (Crazy Heart)
Second guessing myself: The Up in the Air girls seem to be locks, and Mo'Nique will win. But what to do with the other two? Diane Kruger is getting more recognition for Basterds, but my gut tells me Laurent for some reason. I feel confident that one or the other is in and we'll see if I guessed the right one. Most are predicting Moore, a perennial favorite, but I've heard that the role is small (I haven't seen it). Gyllenhaal is essentially a lead performance in a movie that is liked for the acting. The only name that I haven't mentioned yet is the formidable Marion Cotillard, and that scares me. She could be here for Nine or Public Enemies - Nine is a lead role but who knows? And Penelope Cruz is on a lot of lists? I can't figure out if the voting block disliked Nine as much as critics and audiences did. I also can't figure out if they loved Samantha Morton as much as I did. I lack confidence here more than anywhere!

THE TEN

Mark my words...all of these will be nominated:

1. Animated Feature: UP
2. Animated Feature: FANTASTIC MR. FOX
3. Foreign Language Film: THE WHITE RIBBON (Germany)
4. Original Screenplay: Quentin Tarantino (Inglorious Basterds)
5. Original Screenplay: Mark Boal (The Hurt Locker)
6. Adapted Screenplay: Jason Reitman & Sheldon Turner (Up in the Air)
7. Documentary Feature: THE COVE
8. Cinematography: AVATAR
9. Visual Effects: AVATAR
10. Original Score: Michael Giacchino (Up)

Every Little Step (2009)

It's a bit of a shame that the fantastic documentary EVERY LITTLE STEP will, most likely, not catch the interest of those who aren't invested in its subject matter. That is a shame, because those who give in to watching the film will find that its subject - the birth of one of the most successful Broadway musicals of the past half-century and the casting process of its recent revival - is merely a backdrop to bigger issues about the balance between our belief in ourselves and our need for validation.

I expected to be interested in EVERY LITTLE STEP because I am a huge fan of the Broadway musical. For the sake of disclosure, I have to admit that "A Chorus Line," the focus of this film, is not necessarily one of my favorite shows. It is also not one that I dislike. Rather, it's just one I don't particularly relate to well in the sense that I am not a life-long dancer. What I appreciated about this documentary, then, was the way it reminded me that "A Chorus Line" might be a show about dancers, but is, ultimately, a show about performers. And I can relate to that. I can also relate to the creation process itself, and was pleasantly surprised that half of this documentary's contents focus on the original ideas and creations of Michael Bennett, the choreographer who, we learn, gathered a group of talented dancers together and tape recorded their conversations about life: their passions, their struggles, their talents, their relationships. "There's a show in here somewhere," Bennett prophetically told the gathered performers at the time, "and it will be called 'A Chorus Line'." (I'm paraphrasing his words slightly, but that's the jist of it.)

Those of us who are creative, artistic types are blown-away and inspired by that kind of mad genius, that unwavering belief in one's talent and vision. Bennett's unwavering strength is complimented by the film's "modern" half, which follows his original partner in creating the show, Bob Avian, as he attempts to mount a Broadway revival.

How do you recast roles that were written based specifically on the lives of the original cast members? How do you whittle thousands down to hundreds, down to dozens? And, as a dancer/singer/actor, how do you audition in front of original members of the company, such as Baayork Lee, "A Chorus Line"'s original Connie and now the choreographer of the revival?

EVERY LITTLE STEP vividly and candidly shows us that not even name-recognized Broadway talents like Charlotte D'Amboise are exempt from the emotionally and physically gruelling cattle call process. In fact, the film does little to highlight her as a Broadway celebrity. Her audition process (and subsequent securing of one of the roles) is treated the same as all of the other actors in pursuit of their parts. And she is just as exhausted and happy as they are when she gets the job.

The production values of EVERY LITTLE STEP are solid but basic. Directors Adam Del Dio and James D. Stern are blessed to have the audio and video footage (however scratchy) of the original gestation of "A Chorus Line" to call upon here. For me, its inclusion elevates the film a few significant notches. The subject matter itself is another blessing, as the paring down of 3,000 auditionees to a cast of 19 has a built-in suspense not put to such good use in a documentary since the cut-throat spelling bee whiz kids of "Spellbound."

To a large degree, "A Chorus Line" is a sacred work to the musical theatre performer. EVERY LITTLE STEP understands this visceral passion, this gut-level connection, and translates it to the movie-viewing audience. Indeed, the deeply emotional backstories of some of the auditioning performers accomplishes what "American Idol" attempts to during its audition process shows. But here, there is more time, and we care more. We get the sense that no role is an easy or shallow one. We know that the performers auditioning for the new production are as desperate and in need of a break as the original characters and performers.

I have more documentaries to see this year, but as of now, this is my favorite. I suspect that some of this is based in my bias as a lover of musical theatre. But I think the film is bigger than that. We are all performers in some way or another, all of us auditioning for something. And we all feel like it's us against the world. And we are praying that we won't be rejected.

4.0 out of 4