There are already a lot of reviews of this one out there, so I'll keep this brief. I think director Danny Boyle put it best when he introduced the film at this year's Austin Film Festival saying "I never expected to be this thrilled by a script about Who Wants to be a Millionaire." The truth is, it is and is not about that show that has long become passe in the States. What it is really designed to get at is the very real diametric difference between classes that is so invisible to people worldwide in so-called industrial nations. The movie's plot follows a nobody guy named Jamal who gets to the next to last question in the Indian Who Wants to be a Millionaire and is accused of fraud. The idea of human beings no longer being considered a commodity, or "property" is a joke. Some of the outright depraved things that happen to Jamal and those around him are just brutal on the senses, but things lighten up as you go along. I've spoken to friends (all Americans) who've seen it and their opinion of this guy's rough childhood is that "it's a bit much, you know. Hard to believe, lays it on thick, etc." with a twinge of high thread-counting, liberal elitism in their voice every time. Here's the thing: shit like this happens in India and other countries all the time. Even though it was half a century ago, my dad can tell comparable stories from his childhood in Cuba. Unlike the States, things haven't changed to a great degree in terms of human conditions since Castro took power. To some extent, what happens to Jamal in the course of the film's full-meal 120 minutes is heightened-reality, once in a century stuff, but through the new lens a lot of people have after the election of Barack Obama, it's now much less of a stretch to consider this movie about long-shot hope completely plausible. No one knew who Jamal was, and now he's the hope of a nation. Sound familiar? I fell pretty hard for the movie when I saw it in mid-October, and I've grown more fond of it since then. This is a movie people should take a gang of ten friends to, and catch Quantum of Solace a couple weeks from now when the crowds die down. This is the kind of movie people will purchase on DVD so that every once in a while they can show it to friends. One of the interesting things that came out of the post-show Q&A however many weeks ago was that originally Warner Independent Pictures (WIP) had picked it up, and then all of a sudden there was no WIP anymore. I lament the fact that this movie may have stalled on its way to release, and am very glad it's beginning to open across the coutry this week. This is Danny Boyle's best work both cinematically and socio-politically. If the "on for me, one for you" formula stays true to Boyle, we'll get one of his "Slumdog" movies and one of his genre movies one after the other for some time to come.

The best film I saw at this year's Austin Film Festival turns out to be one of the best movies I've seen all year. Synecdoche, New York is a cinematic experience that I expect to stick with me for some time to come. During a post-show Q&A with director Charlie Kaufman, only one question really stuck out to me, because it hit at what I think this film does well. It was a pretty closed-ended question about whether he had ever considered making a time travel movie. Kaufman answered that he had seriously intended as a child to build a time machine and use it to solve the world's problems and things that scared him, like death. He said (perhaps jokingly) that he still intends to build that time machine. What I found most fascinating about Charlie at this moment was that without intending to, he very profoundly articulated the purpose of his script and the movie that resulted. I approached him afterward as people were shoving DVDs and photocopies of the Malkovich script in his hands to autograph, which he was generously plowing through. I told him I didn't have anything to guilt him into signing, but that perhaps he's built the time machine and just adding parts as he goes from film to film. He seemed momentarily taken out of the moment and said, "I hadn't thought of that." There are those who would say that Synecdoche, New York is nothing but a gloom ride that is oppressively depressing, but I think that may be too simple of an analysis. It's easy to feel boxed-in by a movie ostensibly about death and the futility of one man's quest for closure and peace. I honestly feel boxed-in and utterly worthless trying to write about it. Kaufman's scripts have often had "meta" attached to them in the manner of "oh dude that is so meta." The "Malkovich Malkovich" scene from Being John Malkovich being one of many examples. I suppose I feel metafutile in trying to articulate what I feel about the movie in the form of a review. Especially in the realm of writing online about the movie business, movies themselves, and theoretical movies that have not yet been (or will be) made, you hit those points when you just outright ask yourself "what the fuck is the point?" and throw your hands up in frustration, crawl back into bed, or just take the dog for a walk. It's like that for anyone with a job or creative pursuit. In particular, a strand of the movie I could particularly grasp on from personal experience was the theatre production featured in the first bit. Caden Cotard (Phillip Seymour Hoffman) is a theatre director putting on a production of Death of a Salesman wherein he has intentionally cast younger actors as Willy and Linda Loman as an "artistic choice." He's anguishing over the fact that everything, according to him, is going terribly and the show will be a massive failure. Anyone who has ever done theatre (community, educational, or Equity) will tell you that's how it always goes. It's always horrible right before it gets better. You just keep hoping the "better" part eventually comes. You meet Caden as he believes he is beginning to die (aren't we all, once we've been born?) and you watch Caden go all the way to the zenith of his life. Spoilers are available elsewhere, but suffice to say that his concept and execution of what a production is grows impossibly grand in scale. This is an absolute must-see for anyone involved in any creative trade, from the ticket-tearing fan to the "real life" engineer who finds a way to make the impossibly complex community theatre stage design work to the visionary at the top commanding the ship. The experience of watching the movie itself was extremely cathartic for me, and though it steeped in the "what's the point" stuff for a while, I made my peace with it. There are those films that truly fill you with the "feelings of doom" that doctors ask about when trying to shove depression pills in your hand and then leave you with an unfilled bottle of pills by the end of the movie. This movie, it seems, took Kaufman's time machine into the future and found the cure for all those shitty feelings, came to find me in the present, and re-arranged some synapses. I felt confused once it was all over, not for lack of comprehension, but rather due to some indignation toward myself. "Why do I have those days where I just sit around?" I demanded of myself, fists shaking with rage. The funeral scene mentioned in Jeff and others' reviews came across to me as "here's your funeral, Mr./Mrs/The Viewer. Okay, now it's over, so get on living your life and doing what makes you happy." Aside from all of the deeper infused meaning, the movie is hilarious in regular doses thanks to an expertly-cast group of actors. If I were to pick one out at random to heap praise on it would be Hope Davis as Caden's shrink. Now that I've gotten myself into this mess of picking favorites by writing that last sentence, I'd be remiss to not mention all of the excellent performances in here, so now consider me remiss. I do have to mention Tom Noonan for a second though, risking the careless reputation I've just established for myself. I was clicking around on IMdB listings and found an interesting quotation of his: "I don't think you go to a play to forget, or to a movie to be distracted. I think life generally is a distraction and that going to a movie is a way to get back, not go away." Make of that what you will. In closing, I'd like to take a moment to mourn the utterly dreadful state of our national level of education here in the old US of A, specifically as it applies to the title of the film. They introduced the film beforehand as so appropriate for a festival that focuses on the writer, and what an understatement to be made. Unfortunately, I find it amazing that so many people I meet at these things or friends from college finish with some sort of degree in writing and don't know what "synecdoche" itself is, including the "like totally aspiring writer" sitting near me who asked Kaufman "like did you really ghostwrite Identity, dude?" Should there be a standardized test for writing awards, fellowships, and grants to prevent that guy from ever getting any money for writing? I think there should be, and I'll go on record saying that's the only standardized test I'm in favor of. Well, that's for me and the poet shirt-wearing Twilight fans to argue about next time we eat Arrugula and Goat Cheese while toasting social elitism. Also...no, the word "synecdoche" doesn't do you any favors with the people who aren't interested in examining their lives for missed opportunities or faults, nor does the plot of the movie lend itself to these people who pal around with idiots. The film as it plays isn't one you want to trick Joe the Max Payne-Worshipper into walking in to see. He won't like it in the first place. He'll walk out, ask for a refund, and go down the hall to watch Max Payne again, writhing in ecstasy at all the gunfire and exploding furniture. This is an arthouse movie people will seek out thanks to the extraordinary pedigree of its writer/director and cast as well as the strong critical acclaim. The road is very bright ahead for a smart, introspective film among the spread of dumbed-down crap that's out there. Know many people who, at its time of release, would have argued that The Adventure and The Eclipse sound any better than L'avventura or L'eclisse because the latter have too many syllables and/or vowels? Watch your local arthouse listings with bated breath for this one to pop up. It's well worth the admission and emotional investment.

I have to admit a soft spot for "dog movies" (good ones), especially ones featuring a dog named Lucy (the name of my wonderful Beagle). Setting that aside as much as I'm able, I thoroughly enjoyed Sunday night's screening of Wendy and Lucy, a rare indie that rewards a patient viewer with a soaked-in emotional journey without much (if any) pretense or indulgent, inefficient filmmaking. During the Q&A for Danny Boyle's Slumdog Millionaire the other night, he mentioned something Godard once said, which roughly paraphrased is that all you need for a movie is money, a girl, and a gun. Wendy and Lucy gives you two out of three, and though I enjoyed it a great deal myself and others have been effusively lauding the movie since Cannes, I felt like I'd been shorted some change once the movie was over. I won't spoil the ending, but as "French" as I like my movies, the finale will leave something to be desired for some, just as the movie as a whole will. This is not a slog by any estimation, but a deeply moving evocation of the tragedy of modern life. The true reason to watch is Michelle Williams' performance, which in execution does far more than is required on paper. She gives such a naturalistic, lived-in picture of Wendy here that the movie becomes more of a nature film studying her character as an animal in the wilderness of "civilization" than anything else, which I assume was the point. Michelle gives us a young woman who is on her way from Indiana to Alaska (the You Betcha State) on a search (we assume) for gainful employment with her faithful and only companion, Lucy the Golden Retriever mix. We join the action as her resources are finally disintegrating in her grasp as she gets to northern Oregon. Wendy is a fiercely independent person, the "leave me alone, I can do it" type, who has finally come toward the end of a rope. Precisely how far from the frayed end she is, we don't know, but she's losing her grip on her circumstances. This performance is substantive, no bullshit stuff and deserves recognition irrespective of her gender. On the one hand, it's a tragic but endearing snapshot of the young, modern American Woman left to her own devices but at once, it's allegorically a picture of where my generation (and hers) is at this point. Our forebears have built up all this "civilization" and we're no better off necessarily than if we were just lost in the woods. At one point, someone mentions, "can't get a job without an address, can't get an address without a job, can't get a job without a phone," again paraphrased. I couldn't put what they're getting at here any better myself. Michelle Williams carries the whole thing, and I have to say for Best Lead Actress. As people see the shows starring those that are being put in the Oscar pool assumptively, I hope one or two sift out of the mix and Williams gets in, because she really deserves recognition here. Nothing against the front-runners no one has seen yet or anything. I repeat my favorite refrain, which is that the film is absolutely worth seeing, and you should avoid reading other reviews. I find many telegraph the entire plot, which ruins this movie more than others. More AFF writeups to come, because as one does during a festival, I've gotten profoundly overloaded.

I have to race back downtown to catch Slumdog Millionaire, so this will be posted in two parts. Enjoy. -------------------------- H-E: One of the things that struck me the most last night in your introduction was about the paternal relationship and how that's something that the two of you connected with, you and Josh. How do you think it is that it comes off to people who aren't really addressing that relationship or have avoided that-- James Cromwell: The father and the son relationship? Very few people I know have not addressed it at some point. For some it's more difficult than others...it depends on what's happened. I still have issues in my life about my father, I've internalized them. Of course it's never the other person. [In the film] it's not so much Poppy [George Sr.]. Poppy is the creation of W., and that creation contains within it the limitations of the child's ability to understand the circumstances the father has found himself in, and interpret the behavior of the father in a way to express the love that the father has for the son rather than his judgment and condemnation. So Poppy represents, it's interesting-- H-E: He's less a person than a construct. JC: Exactly, that's right. The construct that he, that W. has created inside, so ultimately you begin to jettison that as you get a little older through your empathy and understanding begin to understand that they have lives and they have motivation that maybe you don't understand. As I said last night those three processes of [1] confronting the father when the father makes demands that you can't live up to, basically to stand your ground as a man. Then the second one is to exceed them in whatever you do, you know with gentleness of course but not to hold back. I held back from directing I think even subconsciously, and I've loved to direct, I've always enjoyed directing. It's funny. You know, I see young people, you know, ones who aren't even very good sometimes who are making a living doing it, and I still hold back from doing it and I give myself all these excuses for why I shouldn't be doing it. It's basically because that was his arena and not mine and I don't wanna go there. Maybe that changes at some point, it's getting a little late, but that's all right. Then the last one is to be the father to the father, forgive him. We all go through that. H-E: In terms of the production of the film itself, at what point were you folded into the mix. Who had been put on the film by the time you came on? JC: I don't think there was anybody attached other than Josh at that point. [Stone] knew there were two thematic lines, and that's the relationship between the father, the formative part of W, and then the political machinations which would involve a variety of people filling smaller parts that would amplify the character of W. H-E: So you were involved extremely early on. JC: I was the second one. I think he had offered it to a number of people, you know. Always try to attach somebody ho helps you raise the financing. If it had been Warren Beatty or Harrison Ford, it would have been much easier for him. H-E: [laughs] I think it would have been a much...more strange movie. JC: Yeah, and whether he was serious about that or not, Josh chose me and said to him, "you should look at Jamie Cromwell" and [Stone] went "ehhh" and [Josh] said "nonono, see him." I saw him and he wanted to see me again and I refused to go see him again. I thought you saw me the one time, you're not gonna get anything different from me, it's not gonna change-- H-E: You don't get two first dates. JC: Nah, you don't get two first dates, and you know, I'm glad it worked out the way it did, really. H-E: Like I said to you before, it's a really fascinating film that if people give it a chance, and I think that they will, they'll be quite pleased. One of the important things I think you brought up last night is that the studios seem to be absolutely convinced that "no one wants to see a movie about politics or world events" these days. I think there's some credence to the idea people don't want to go see them the way they're advertised, the way they're promoting them. This film is the crossover point, I think. JC: Yeah, there are two dilemmas I think. One is the conservatism and cowardice of the industry as a whole or any industry, which of course, because they're beholden to large multinational corporations to make a return on the product they produce. So, the bean-counters and the analysts look at the marketplace and see what's working and what doesn't and extrapolate what you should and should not invest in. On the other hand, I'm not sure America is really ready to take a very probing look at its responsibility and culpability for what has happened, especially in the War in Iraq. I mean it's fine to blame it on Bush, we don't wanna look at why that war was created as a necessity to maintain the lifestyle that we take for granted...that we would be highly unwilling to give up, that as a people, we may be forced to give up. They're conservative and at the same time, whoever makes the film. Elah, In the Valley of Elah-- H-E: The Tommy Lee Jones film. JC: Yeah, Josh was in that too. Winderful film, and I thought what's not to like about this film, it's accurate. he took it from actual cases and he combined them together. Horrible things were happening on bases, marital violence, murders, guys cting out, guys who didn't know about Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder...we're now seeing this happening on all over, and it's going to get increasingly worse. It had a wonderful lead performance, got an Academy award nomination, a great script...why didn't it make it? Why didn't they push the film? When you read the review today in the paper, and it says "Josh Brolin gives a credible performance, this film breaks no new ground, those who've come to see--" shit no. Is that a liberal writing about the condemnation he wished he'd seen in the film. Is this a guy on the right who really wants to condemn the film but can't do it with faint praise? Hopefully, that will not dissuade anyone from seeing it. -------------------------- Part 2 is on its way as we delve into the transforming landscape of distribution, politics, and various other things. Stay tuned.

I've disappeared for a couple days ramping up for the 15th annual Austin Film Festival, and last night kicked it off with a bang. The opening night film, Oliver Stone's W., played like gangbusters and the followup at the historic Paramount Theatre (Max Payne) left even the fanboys in the audience wanting. I'll have more on Max Payne shortly. James Cromwell introduced the film last night and in so doing announced a just-added "Conversation with" Q&A for this morning. Shortly after the Q&A concluded, I got the chance to interview the actor and activist whose work in both respects I admire very much. I would simply upload the audio, but I can't for the life of me find my auxiliary cable so the transcript will appear shortly. As for the film itself, the screening was truly an interesting study of the atmosphere of the city of Austin as well as the generation my esteemed editor refers to as The Generation of Shame (I prefer Doom myself). The film had some key location shoots around downtown easily picked out by any Austinite, some just down Congress Avenue from the Paramount Theatre where we were watching the movie. I overheard some hilarious things in line and afterward that I'll put in a Talking at the Movies piece today or tomorrow. After reading the plethora of advance reviews out there, I most categorically disagree with two things right off: anyone referring to Josh Brolin's performance as "credible" or some other innocuous adjective isn't worth their salt, and calling Thandie Newton's performance as "Condi" Rice a caricature is trying too hard to look like a critic. Look, I'm an actor and (theatre) director first and a critical writer second, and would never pretend to use the "J" word to describe who I am or what I do for Hollywood Elsewhere. I don't have a degree or commendation or fame to back me up as a critic, but I've done enough acting and watching to get what's going on with a highly technical performance. The technique Thandie employs here is one of approximation and the necessary degree of imitation, and yes, it absolutely splits your sides quite often. People instinctively laugh at the "dead-on" inhabitation of an impersonation for good reason. The laughter came in so many places, especially for Brolin throughout, but also for Toby Jones' perfect Rove and especially when Dreyfuss flashed Cheney's famous crooked underbite (you'll know when you see it). What's most important, and what makes the performances work across the board is the balance. No one treads the line so dangerously as to come off as Saturday Night Live making a feature film version of Dubya's great struggle. Cromwell (in concert with Stone's direction) wisely does not choose the route of impersonation and instead inhabits the construct of what Dubya has turned his father into in the film's narrative. To mimic the real-life Herbert Dubya's mannerisms and manner of speech would defeat the purpose of Weiser's script summarily. Cromwell related before the film began last night that he felt one of the genuine underlying strengths of the film was the real father-son issues both he and Josh brought to the proceedings themselves. The vulnerabilities they expose from their personal lives in how they bring The Two Georges to the screen is what elevates this film from left-leaning social commentary or satire to a complex narrative deservingly compared to Greek tragedy. It's no secret where I stand politically. According to the plethora of Bush-faitful that have weighed in, I'm in the tank for this movie. What's telling for me is that when talking to a dyed-in-the-wool Republican friend very recently and explaining the tack W. takes, he said something he'd never admit to the set he generally hangs around: "That's the life I think my dad got pushed into, and it's the mistake of his that I'm repeating. It's who I am and I don't really have a choice." W. is no mere stunt film, and the 4-6% of truly conflicted, undecided voters who see the movie may find it to sway their feelings about the election. They're the 4-6% that will actually decide this election in some states, and when they think about this story and who John McCain is fundamentally, their eyes might actually open all the way up. My interview with James Cromwell is yet to come, since transcription will take a bit longer than expected. Might be delayed until tomorrow.