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Showing posts with label Tim Burton. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tim Burton. Show all posts

Six Actresses Walk Into a Room...

The Hollywood Reporter is proclaiming that "Awards Season Begins Now" but the cover is freaking me out. Did Nancy Meyers direct it? It's so beige.


Do Amy Adams, Nicole Kidman, Hilary Swank and Natalie Portman all suddenly have the same hairstylist & colorist these days? They're interchangeable. And with women that special, that's a big no-no. Kidman's styling bugs me the most. It's so Blair on Facts of Life.

Am I right?



"I've got another one of my brilliant ideas."



Even craycray HBC looks like she's been stripped of her actual wardrobe in some coordinated Bossy Stylist intervention -- guarantee you she's never worn that before -- "You must be on trend, Helena. Muted colors this Oscar season! Think: Vanilla!"

But I'm intrigued by her fessing up about her working relationship with Tim Burton
I did do a film with him before I slept with him, and it's very different. We went through a really bad time on Sweeney Todd. ... I didn't get one compliment (from Burton). He really had this whole thing, like he didn't want to seem as if he was favoring me. So he'd go in the opposite direction. And Tim and Johnny, they have their lovely relationship, you know, they get on so well. So that was a difficult one. ... I really didn't think he'd ever want to work with me again. On Alice, I said there were going to be rules. ... I listed the Ten Commandments of how to work together.
I'd like to know what those Ten Commandments are. But I'm guessing she doesn't get into it in front of 5 other actresses.

Meanwhile, back to that cover -- this post is a runaway train (of thought) bear with me! -- notice that The Bening is propping herself up by her chin, biding her time, knowing they'll photoshop her in later.

I suppose it's possible that they were all in the room together, but I'm guessing it was more like Skype. The photo sure doesn't look like it's all one photo, does it?

Come to think of, I'm waiting for the day when some famous magazine or celebrity photographer refuses to do any more shoots where you have to photoshop busy people together later on. This didn't used to happen of course. Part of the jam-packed celebrity schedule used to include making time to be photographed with other celebrities. There's just something so dehumanizing about the photoshop mash-ups. I do them for humor but I hate it when they're presented to me like a photo I should believe in. (At least those Vanity Fair covers do a good job of tricking you about it... and you know that at least sections of it involve actual stars, draped about each other in real time.)

I miss stars being photographed together in the flesh where they can totally feed off each other's energy. Like...


Michelle Pfeiffer & Jessica Lange in 1997 (one of my favorite celebrity photos of all time even if their movie wasn't good.)  Or how about Keanu Reeves & River Phoenix in 1991?



Of course this still happens now but almost exclusively with only two people. Larger groups? Forget it.

Currently paparazzi photography is so much more exciting than actual portraiture. I mean, would any magazine ever be able to schedule The Town cast to be photographed in a room together at the same time and capture this much interpersonal energy...



Isn't that a sweet pic? I think it's my favorite movie premiere shot from 2010. I've looked at it so many times since September.

But back to The Hollywood Reporter to wrap up. I haven't seen the mag yet but I'm loving some of the quotes I'm reading like this exchange between Swankster & Adams
On losing roles 
Swank: There was a script I fell in love with back in August that was sent to me...I went in and I didn't get it.
Bening: Who did?
Swank: Do you really want to know?
Bening: Amy, you got it, didn't you?
(Laughter)
Swank (to Adams): Did you read it? Did you like it?
Adams: I'm not getting into this! (Thunderous laughter)
Swank: Amy got the role! Amy will be playing the role that I wanted! (Laughs)
Adams: Let me just say, I'm not doing it. We don't normally talk about this!
Hee. I've never liked Swank more than reading that exchange. And I've never felt better about The Bening's winning chances in February than I did while "hearing" her tease Swank and Adams on this topic.

MORE ON THE WHOLE HOUR LONG VIDEO HERE.

I'm suddenly very excited for awards season. Maybe it did begin just now?
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Helena Bonham-Carter Annette Bening

FYC Hell: Alice in Uglyland and the Art of Self Editing.

With screeners arriving and campaign parties starting, awards season is raring to go. The Oscar FYC ad pictured below, the first of the season, arrived today in my mailbox from the delightful Guy Lodge with the completely sensible command "Stop. This. Now." As many of you know, I loathe Tim Burton's Mia in Uglyland but I'm not dumb enough to think that it doesn't have a shot at a handful of Oscar nominations. Money, and hundreds of millions of bags worth of it -- each much larger than the Red Queen's oversized noggin -- goes a long way towards warming industry hearts.

The ad starts with the Claudia Puig USA Today quote "The movie should come with a note marked 'Watch me' for its extravagance of whimsy and wonder." and proceeds to list the names of 28 awards hopefuls (some of whom are very talented indeed... but... 'stop. this. now.' indeed)



There are so many things to be concerned with on this page, not least of which is how many optometrist appointments Ms. Puig seems to have cancelled recently.

[more bitching after jump]




Guy notes that you know this is going to end with Johnny Depp getting at least a Comedy Globe nod and my heart died a little from this astute prophesy. See, I love Mr Depp. I thought he absolutely deserved the Oscar for his rich and instantly iconic comic creation in The Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl (2003). Just a couple of weeks back I was caught up in some Edward Scissorhands again and admiring the invention and, this is an important note, sublime simplicity of that early performance.

But Depp, like his preferred auteur Burton, seems to have lost his knack for self-editing. I'm thinking of self-editing because the finale of Project Runway just aired [SPOILER] and self-regarding crunchy bohemian amazon Gretchen won the contest over richly inventive diminutive pattern-freak Mondo. The judges dinged Mondo for his lack of self-editing skills. While I thought Mondo deserved the win (like Burton, he's a uniquely creative fellow), I can't say that they weren't entirely off the mark in this one criticism. Did the clothes really need those pattern ball hats and other accessories... which read cutesy and pulled attention to themselves and their color and pattern repetitions rather than allowing you to just enjoy the great already busy clothes?



Now, one can easily claim that a movie blogger such as myself, examining my own cinematic brain vomit like tea leaves each day of the year, has no business bitching about anyone's lack of self-editing.... and to this I'd say touché but also: different field, different purpose, different budget (none), different cost (free), different team (i.e. none to talk you out of your worst impulses or help you shape your best ones with their own creative expertise)

Anyway... it wouldn't hurt Burton at all to be asked to deliver something on a tiny budget with a team who isn't completely enamored of / dependent on his brand. There needs to be someone to say "Um, that's a lot of garishness in one scene, let's pare down!" or "I get where you're going with this... how about we try it this way which accomplishes the same thing but is less fussy/muddy/ornamental!"




Edward Scissorhands (1990) still looks sensational twenty-years later. For a film which collects avon ladies, gothic castles, daytime talk shows, elaborate hideous hairdos, ice sculptures, scissor handed simpletons, christmas parties, and crazy ass topiary the size of two-story buildings under one broken drafty roof, it's remarkably uncluttered. It's suffused with whimsy and wonder. Someone should deliver it to Mr. Burton and Mr. Depp's offices with a note marked "Watch me." 

15 Directors Who Shaped My Movie Love

So there's this meme going around that Paolo tagged me with. So why not? The idea is that you list 15 directors, mainly off of the top of your head, that contributed to the way you experience and think about the movies. This is not a list of my all time favorites though half of the list would probably overlap. This is the list I come up with when I think briefly on the formative masterminds and/or the ones that have or had some sort of claim on my soul if you will. Three of them I could definitely live without at this point but I'm trying to be honest about the exercize.

Wise with Wood ~ West Side Story 
So here goes in no particular order... 


ROBERT WISE (1914-2005)
When I was a kid West Side Story and The Sound of Music were the most Epically ! Epic !!! movies to me. At the time I didn't quite grasp the auteur theory but at some point I became aware that this guy had made both so therefore "He must be the best director of all time!" Later I discovered that he wasn't but I still think he's a stronger talent than he gets credit for being nowadays.
first encounters: The Sound of Music and West Side Story (on television) 

ALFRED HITCHCOCK (1899-1980)
As I said in my Rope retro, he's training wheels for any young budding film buff who is curious about The Man Behind the Curtain (Hitch or otherwise).
first encounter: North By Northwest (I think I saw it here, the place I saw many old movies for the first time. My parents didn't know what a monster they were creating by taking me there regularly.)

WOODY ALLEN (1935-)
For the same reason as Hitchcock really; it's impossible to think you're watching anyone else's film. Woody was the first director I "followed", eagerly anticipating and attending each movie as soon as I could. As a result, he'll always have a place in my heart.
first encounters: Broadway Danny Rose (in theaters... my older brother's idea), The Purple Rose of Cairo (in theaters, my idea)

Wyler meeting Charlton Heston's son.
WILLIAM WYLER (1902-1981)
The auteur theory isn't everything. This man understood dramatic storytelling and didn't dumb it down but made accessible all the nuances and fine points. Plus he could wring top notch work from all kinds of actors. His resume is deservedly overstuffed-with-classics. Just last month while watching The Best Years of Our Lives I even dreamed of watching all of his movies chronologically in a row for a blog project. I bet it would be an awesome journey. 
first encounters: Ben Hur (revival house) and Wuthering Heights (VHS) 

STEVEN SPIELBERG (1946-)
Because everyone loves him and therefore he was ubiquitous when I was growing up and still is to a degree. There was no question that he was shaping Hollywood and more than one moviegoing generation. I never felt personally attached but he was always present in the movie menu.
first encounters: Raiders of the Lost Arc & E.T. (in theaters)... the latter is the only movie I can ever remember seeing with my Grandma *sniffle*






JAMES CAMERON (1954-)
Because I seriously wish he was mandatory study/viewing for anyone assigned to direct a mainstream action film. He's never created an action sequence that was boring or difficult to follow (few others can say the same) and even if the dialogue is and was a bit clunky, his films are such masterful pop(corn). Plus, like all the greatest directors, he doesn't ignore female characters but makes them crucial players.


first encounters: The Terminator (cable), Aliens (in theaters... one of the very first R rated movies I ever saw in theaters. Ooohh.)


Pedro and His Muses celebrate All About My Mother's Oscar win
PEDRO ALMODÓVAR (1949-)
Truth: I look forward to no one else's movies more. Pedro always gives audiences something for the heart, the brain, the eyes and the groin and rare is the filmmaker who understands to provide us with all four pleasures in each and every film. 


first encounters: Women on the Verge... (in theaters), Law of Desire (VHS) 


Ridley with Veronica Cartwright on 
the Nostromo in Alien (1979)
RIDLEY SCOTT (1937-)
Because he made two movies that I remain deeply in the thrall of (Blade Runner and Thelma & Louise) and kicked off one franchise I obsessed over regularly for a good long while (Alien). And he helped inform my love of Art Direction within movies. All that but I could never work up much enthusiasm for anything in between or after those three peaks which just goes to show you: even if you love someone's something, you never know how it's all gonna shake out in terms of fandom.

first encounters: Legend (in theaters), Blade Runner (I can't remember how I first saw this...? There's too many versions!)

TIM BURTON (1958-)
He started off so very strong and stylized. Few things are as pleasureable as the weird and whimsical as long as they're genuinely felt and not manufactured. Unfortunately...  no, no, let's not go there! I can't deal.

first encounters: Pee Wees Big Adventure (I think on cable?), Beetlejuice (in theaters)


Sirk with Dorothy Malone on the set of Written on the Wind (1956) 
Why is she reading My Antonia?


DOUGLAS SIRK (1900-1987)
Because he influenced so many directors I love but I came to him after his ancestors which is like a glorious reminder that there's always more to experience from the past. When you sift through cinematic history you might even love someone so much that you wish you could jump in a time machine and shake the person's hand or give them a million kisses or a bear hug or promise them your first born child, depending on how they react to you arriving in the time machine in the first place. Maybe you should just send a thank you note in the machine.



first encounters: Lured and All That Heaven Allows (on DVD)

DAVID LYNCH (1946-)
Because he's a true original and yet his highly personal films resonate with so many people. It's like he was practicing Inception long before Nolan ever thought it up; his dreams and nightmares became ours. Plus, he made me believe in television as a powerful artistic medium in its own right and for its own reasons and not just the cinema's poor uglier relation. 


first encounters: Dune (in theaters) and Twin Peaks (television)

Campion's Bright Stars
JANE CAMPION (1954-)
Because there were so few female directors when she rose up but it was no kind of affirmative action enthusiasm -- she could have been a genderless space alien and would have still completely vaulted to the top of Directors Whose Movies You Must Watch!


first encounters: The Piano (in theaters), Peel (on VHS)

INGMAR BERGMAN (1918-2007)
It's not only that he made deeply great movies. I am fascinated that he ever existed at all... or rather, he has come to represent a myth / reality that I did not experience firsthand but am always fascinated to think on: the 1960s and 1970s and how adventurous movie fans once were. (See also: Federico Fellini.)


first encounters: Cries and Whispers and Persona (VHS)

ROBERT ALTMAN (1925-2006)
Movies should be crowded with true character... and characters. And they should be alive with possibilities as if the camera could follow anyone offstage and there would be a whole new movie waiting, tantalizingly out of reach.


first encounters: Fool For Love (VHS), The Player (in theaters) 

Bale & Haynes hit a Goldmine!
TODD HAYNES (1961-)
Because he keeps growing and therefore keeps us guessing. And because his one of his pet themes, the fluidity of identity, is among the most cinematic of themes.

first encounters: [Safe] (VHS), Velvet Goldmine (in theaters) 

If you ask me who are the "best" or my "favorite" directors the list would have to change at least by a third, maybe even a half. But that would require more careful consideration. If you ask me who from the past I'd like to resurrect to make one last motion picture the list would look crazy different. But that might be a fun list to make some time. Hmmmm.

I don't know who to tag since this meme has been going around for some time now. So I say YOU in the comment section: which 15 directors shaped your ideas about the movies in your formative film years.

Beware Take Care Bela Beware

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JA from MNPP here with this week's Monday Monologue.

The original Hungarian fang-banger Bela Lugosi died 54 years ago today. His entire career was haunted, one might say, by his role as Dracula in Tod Browning's 1931 film. He played the role on the stage in 1927 and he would be buried just twenty-nine years later in one of his costumes from that same stage production.

But as with the famed Count himself, one life wasn't enough for Bela - he'd reappear posthumously three years later in Ed Wood's crap-classic Plan 9 From Outer Space donning a familiar cape in footage shot for another project that Wood edited into the film as a nonsensical, though loving, tribute to his friend.


Or at least that's the way Tim Burton's 1994 masterpiece Ed Wood romanticizes the story. Resurrecting Bela anew, Martin Landau turned in a brilliant performance therein that finally brought Landau a much-deserved Oscar after earlier nominations for Tucker and Crimes and Misdemeanors and served as a reminder of the sad final few years of Bela's life.
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CONRAD: (Brent Hinkley): Mr. Lugosi, I know you're very busy, but could I have your autograph?

BELA: Of course.

CONRAD: You know which movie of yours I love, Mr. Lugosi? "The Invisible Ray." You were great as Karloff's sidekick.

The Invisible Ray came out in 1936 and was the third of five films the two horror icons would make together (not counting 1934's Gift of Gab, which was just an excuse for the studio to keep a slew of their stars working between pictures and is kind of like a Golden Age episode of The Love Boat). By all accounts their roles in The Invisible Ray - wherein they play scientists who've discovered a toxic meteorite in Africa - are of equal standing and they received equal billing for it. The only time Lugosi got second-billing to Karloff in all the times they acted together was in 1935's The Raven, and it doesn't make much sense there - Lugosi actually has the much bigger part! (It's also one of his finest performances, you should check it out.)

BELA: "Sidekick"??? "KARLOFF"??? Fuck you!! Karloff doesn't deserve to smell my shit! That limey cocksucker can rot in hell, for all I care!

ED: What happened?! Jesus, Connie, what did you do?

CONRAD: Nothing! I told him he was great.

BELA: How dare that asshole bring up Karloff?!! You think it takes talent to play Frankenstein?! NO! It's just make-up and grunting! GRRR! GRRR! GRRR!


Lugosi always claimed that he turned down the part of Frankenstein because it was a non-speaking part and then he himself recommended Karloff for the role. Others claim that Frankenstein director James Whale spotted Karloff in the studio commissary and asked him to test for the part and liked what he saw. Knowing the way Bela was prone to let's say amplify his accomplishments, I don't think we'd be straying in the wrong direction if we leaned towards the latter explanation, but time's erased the facts and replaced it with a much more entertaining miasma of bickering and speculation. As time and fictionalizations are wont to do. By all accounts Bela never cursed either, but where would this performances be without all the colorful expletives?

ED: You're right, Bela. Now Dracula, that's a part that takes acting.

BELA: Of course! Dracula requires presence. It's all in the voice, and the eyes, and the hand…

ED: Look, you seem a little agitated. Do you maybe wanna take a little break, go for a nice walk... and then we'll come back and shoot the scene?

BELA: BULLSHIT! I am ready now! Roll the camera!!
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ED: Um, okay... roll camera… And... action?

BELA: "Beware. Beware! Beware, of the big green dragon that sits on your doorstep. He eats little boys! Puppy dog tails! Big fat snails! Beware. Take care. Beware!"

Wait! Pull the string! Pull the string!
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Curio: Crazy for Pee-Wee

Alexa from Pop Elegantiarum here. As JA mentioned, it's been 25 years since Pee-Wee's Big Adventure came out to mediocre reviews. Whether you love it or hate it, today it is inarguably a cult classic. Judd Apatow is even rumored to be pulling the strings on the new Pee-Wee movie Paul Rubens is writing (um, interesting). And at this year's Crazy 4 Cult, the annual exhibit of art inspired by cult films at Gallery1988 in Los Angeles, Pee-Wee was one of the most heavily represented subjects. This year's show runs through July 30th. What follows are some of the more interesting Pee-Wee portraits from the show's four years, in honor of his big screen anniversary.

Dave Perillo
"Pee-Wee's Big Adventure" board game giclee print on archival paper
signed and numbered edition of 50

16 x 20 inches

Danielle Rizzolo
"I'm A Loner, A Rebel"
oil on board, frame has engraved plate reading, "Property of Pee-Wee Herman"

13 x 16 inches

Ben Strawn "Pee-Wee"
mixed media on layers of plexiglass

12 x 21.5 inches, framed


Kennis Chow
"PEE-W!!!"
acrylic on wood
24 x 18 inches


Chan Koak
"Pee-Wee's Morning"
acrylic on panel
11 x 14 inches


Sarah Soh
"Where'd You Go?"

gouache, 11 x 14 inches


Thoughts I Had While Watching... Alice in Wonderland

[Sigh]. You guys...

"Where have you been lurking?"

I've been meaning to write about Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland for weeks now. But every time I so much as thought about doing so I felt a pit in my stomach as deep as that rabbit hole to Underland. I hate the movie sooooooo much. The flames... breathing... on the side of my face.

Why must it exist to taunt me with its billion dollar gross? Way to reward a filmmaker for lazy stagnation. Just pick a famous property, collect your usual coconspirators and then throw shit at the screen. Literally! You can convert it to 3D later. A billion dollars will be yours! As long as the masses recognize the title and you have a bankable star, you're gold. (See also: Sherlock Holmes).

I can't bear to watch the movie a second time. I usually skim back over when I write about films -- so these are just a few scattered thoughts expanded from my notes and my tortured memories of the nightmare witnessed.

<--- Alice sees a green spotted pig because, why the hell not? Nothing has to make any sense. The very essence of the property robs the lazy of having to pick which of their visual ideas to use.

Underland

What was with the "Underland" thing anyway? If you wanna get cute about messing with the title, at least have the balls to change it. Tim Burton's Alice in Underland would still be a stinking pile, but a rose by any other name would not smell as rancid. It can be quite enjoyable and fascinating to see artists riff on past stories, concepts and ideas from previous artists which is why we should all be thankful for the public domain (which greedy corporations are always trying to end... as if they had any hand in the original blood sweat and tears creativity). Once a story has been around for 50-75 years, shouldn't it belong to the world in actuality the way it belongs to the world in the abstract sense?

But just because you can riff on a past work, doesn't mean you should. Especially if you have nothing of value to add.

Ugliness
Mia Wasikowska is a pretty young thing but Alice is a dud. And she's even slightly ugly of personality at the end. Why does the screenplay make her mean spirited? At the end of the movie she actually humiliates her suitor by mentioning an unattractive health problem he has (I forget what it was). Yes, she is right to refuse the marriage offer from Lord Doofus (I don't care what his character name is, it matters not). But to humiliate him while doing so? Most lazy pandering movies present the unsuitable suitor as SO unsuitable that virtually no one should ever marry them. Said suitor should die miserable and alone. Remember WAY back in the day (a decade back, I guess) when movie women did not have hateful suitors or fiancees? As recently as the 90s filmmakers used to trust the audience to understand the nuance of "this guy is not right for her, which is too bad because he's kind of cool/nice." (see Reality Bites, Sleepless in Seattle and others). It wasn't always "this guy MUST be humiliated because he is so awful and oh, the very thought of her with him! You go girl, dump his ugly/insufferable/rude/unfeeling/cheating ass!" I swear to God Hollywood thinks we all have the EQs of lint. "This character good *grunt*. This character bad *grunt*."

Wouldn't her film-ending decision have had more gravitas if she had to say no to a good guy because, the dull domestic life wasn't for her. She's made for larger world travelling ambitions. Wouldn't that be more stirring? Something to actually think about while the credits played? I mean who wouldn't run from the life choice presented her? What kind of a character arc is that?

But her ugly insult and lame story arc is only a tiny thing. Everything in the film is ugly, whether by design, color combinations or sheer excess: The sets, the busy costumes, the special effects. Even Anne Hathaway is ugly and how is that possible exactly? That's not possible without the aid of hideous lighting and makeup design.

It's hard to feel bad about The Court and its way of life being destroyed in The Mad Hatter's backstory exposition flashback scene because that is ALSO garish. Sure, burn it down. No one will miss it.

Johnny & Helena & Alan
Johnny Depp has starred in seven Tim Burton films. The first two collaborations are classics (Edward Scissorhands and Ed Wood) The third is solid (Sleepy Hollow). Thereafter its tough to argue that he was necessary or even right for any of the roles. You can't be a daring unpredictable weirdo icon if you become totally safe, predictable and familiar in your daring unpredictable weirdness. These things don't go together. MOVE ON.

The only actors who seem to be working above the material are Alan Rickman, a droll voice choice for the stoned caterpillar with that resonating slightly phlegmy bass of his and Helena Bonham-Carter. Her red queen is the saving grace of the film. Or rather the life raft. The film is not saved but her impeccable timing and focused stylization generally make her scenes tolerable. It's even hard to be annoyed by the nonstop CGI "help" because she knows what she's doing and she's doing it skillfully.


"You've lost your muchness."
This line, spoken by the Mad Hatter to Alice is a good one. It could well apply to Tim Burton, though. He has definitely lost his muchness. In its absence, he compensates with MUCH. The film is always always always too much. Every scene is tricked up with gaseous CGI swirls as if the celluloid can't stop farting.

Even the Chesshire Cat, usually a textbook example of the simplicity of great illusions, doesn't really disappear so much as dissapate into computer generated fumes. Adding to the smell is the distinct impression that the print had been urinated on by someone with a Jabberwocky sized bladder. Why was garish yellow their color of choice?

The movie's over compensating muchness, most obvious in its hideous color palette, busy f/x detailing (wait, this quarter of the frame is empty... throw some weird animal into it! Hurry!!!) and super long redundant sequences which manage to convey exactly one idea each -- fall, chase, fly, fight, etcetera -- reminded me of four other movies. George Lucas's entire ugly Star Wars prequel trilogy has a similar redundancy of one note scenes as well as a shared affinity for grotesque but unappealing creature designs. And most of the action sequences, lamely executed to a one, reminded of that patience testing dinosaur run in King Kong. King Kong was a fairly successful remake but that one scene stuck out like a sore thumb. It added virtually nothing to the story, it was redundant visually, it was OBVIOUSLY special effects (so the film stopped feeling seamless) and it went on forever... at least twice its justifiable length.

These are not good things to be reminded of.
F

<--- "Goodbye sweet hat"

Some final statistics & observations
  • Running time in Underland: 108 minutes
  • Running time in Nathaniel's apartment: 108 hours
  • Length of time before I became annoyed: 41 seconds. I blame the absolutely unsurprising score by Danny Elfman. Same as it ever was. I liked his score for Milk a lot recently. Step away from the Burton, Danny Elfman, Danny Elfman.
  • Standard length of time before Nathaniel usually starts shifting uncomfortably in his seat hoping that the movie will soon end: 91 minutes (comedy) / 109 minutes (drama) / never (A/A- minus level movies. I just watched The Best Years of Our Lives which is 172 minutes long and I could have watched an additional 220 minutes if William Wyler had only let me. But that's a topic for a forthcoming post.)
  • Moment in which I stopped hating the movie briefly but can't for the life of me remember why: Something about the Mad Hatter in his new office making hats for The Red Queen.
  • Percentage of scenes with more f/x than there needed to be: 89%
  • Missed opportunities for subtext: ∞

  • Last time it was super easy to love a Tim Burton live-action movie without reservations: 1996's Mars Attacks!
  • Last time Tim Burton made a truly excellent movie: 1994's Ed Wood
  • Moment I began to suspect that Alice was by far the worst movie Tim Burton had ever made: The 43 second sequence in which Alice falls down through the green scree -- rabbit hole and keeps on falling. And keeps on falling. And kept on falling through sloppy green screens and random imagery, furniture and obstacles that she had to duck or collide with. Was it a movie? A video game level? A test reel? A bad drug trip? Whatever it was, it was pointless. I don't know if you've ever timed other big movie sequences but 43 seconds is a really long time. You can fit a lot into 43 seconds if you aren't phoning it in or editing on quaaludes.
  • Offscreen moment of which I am most ashamed: Wishing Helena Bonham-Carter and Tim Burton would have a horrible row and break up for good. One should never wish ill on happy couples. But she's such a good actress and she's just stuck in ever worsening movies.



  • Number of times I wished that Anne Hathaway had never seen Amy Adams' Enchanted performance: 1,194
  • Number of times you miss something 3D cool if you watch it in 2D: 0
  • Number of times I thought about great Tim Burton films wistfully: 94
  • Number of times I even wished I was watching Planet of the Apes or Charlie and the Chocolate Factory: 4
  • Number of times I lost the will to live: 1*
  • Number of times I actually died: 0
  • Number of future films by Tim Burton I'd like to see: ...guess.

*I made it all the way through this article without once mentioning Johnny Depp's breakdancing. Wait, oops!
*

Curio: Artful Directors

Alexa here with some art therapy. Lately I've been spying all kinds of great original art with directors as a subject. I love to see if there's any intersection between the artists' individual styles and that of their subjects. Here's a small gallery for your viewing pleasure.

Hitchcock, Fellini and Kubrick, by Alison Legg.
Print available for purchase here.


A very Quentin-esque Quentin, by David Hildreth.
Poster available at his shop.


Burton à la Pollock?
Print available from The Boring Blue Boy.


Woody in his natural habitat.
Buy the print at Mulford Arts.


Finally, I just had to update my coaster post from the holidays to mention that Kelly Puissegur
has added more directors to her coaster series (including Tim, Francis, Roman, and Sofia)! Check them all out at her shop.

Cannes Prizes? We'll Know Soon

Any guesswork?

Movie|Line thinks it'll be Apichatpong Weerasethakul's Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives but allows for Another Year, Biutiful or Un Homme Qui Crie (A Screaming Man) as spoilers. While most cinephiles would be happy with Weerasethakul winning something as major as the Palme D'Or but I've found in the past that predicting the winner based on what we know of the jury president's aesthetic -- in this case Tim Burton's -- is not always the best way to go. Burton and team (there are other people voting after all) could hand their prizes to virtually anything. We'll see.

Update You might be able to watch the closing ceremonies streaming here at around 1:00-1:15 pm EST time.

Salt N' Pepa N' Linkerella

mmmmmANGELINA. Mangelina. I'm so curious to see Salt now that Jolie is staring me down from the poster (she does so more intimidatingly there -- the gaze is more benevolent in real life) and I'm reminded that Salt was originally written for a male star. Will we see any telltale signs of that gender-switch in the movie?

Oh link it, link it real good
MovieLine awesome composer Alexandre Desplat doesn't believe in holding his tongue. Doesn't approve of Quentin Tarantino's music
Old Hollywood Hedy Lamarr in ecstacy
Nicks Flick Picks finally gets around to "best actress 2008", both his own and Oscar's, but hot damn it's a good read. Plus: awesome comments section with heated / lucid opinions
In Contention Mélanie Laurent promoted to Lead Actress for Inglourious Basterds campaign
Cinema Blend Katey dives into the Screenplay categories. Cheerleads In the Loop
Cinematical maybe you missed my tweet on the Tim Burton exhibit at MoMA? Here's a whole interview.


C'est La Gêne I can't read French but I can read enough French to know that any post where you admit you saw Batman and Robin six times in the theater is a fun one. For French readers only I suppose.
i09 More Black Cat rumors for Spider-Man 4 and the internet's tendency to freak the hell out over them. It's gotta be that plunging neckline because white-haired heroines don't work out so well onscreen [cough*Gwen Stacey/Storm*cough]
mainly movies a personal top 100 of the decade
Birth of a Notion remembers Ben-Hur today, which happens to be its 50th anniversary

Movies That Make Me Think of Halloween

Recycled Film Experience! I wrote some of this in advance -- years in advance in fact -- to free up time to enjoy this costume crazed holiday. I originally published this list in 2005, but I've tweaked it some. Plus, not all of you were around in 2005. Herewith, the top 12 movies that remind me of Halloween. It's a top ten list and it's not even Tuesday. I'm so generous.

12 The Batman franchise (1989-2008)
In 1997 I went out Halloween clubbing as the Uma version of Poison Ivy. Whenever you dress up as a movie character the year the movie comes out, you'll have competition. There was another Poison Ivy there but I buried her, I promise. I had the horns and all the details, see. It was the longest I ever spent getting ready for Halloween (which is saying something): glue guns, orange wigs, fake foliage, you name it. I don't try as hard anymore. Last year, there were hundreds of Ledger versions of The Joker. I suspect there will be this year, too. Group costumes are always my favorite so I love seeing whole groups as Batman and his rogues gallery.


11 Sleeping Beauty (1959)
It's all about Maleficent. She makes me think of this festively dark holiday because I always thought that, on the right person and with the right commitment, the perfect Maleficent costume would be unbeatable. I know you can buy mass produced versions but I've never seen anyone anywhere come close to approximating this sorceress' majesty, gorgeous evilness, or the correct color of her flawless skin. And even if the right Halloween reveller could nail this singular look, they couldn't morph into a fire breathing dragon anyway.

Maybe the only way to do right by Maleficent on Halloween is to ditch the witch costume halfway through the party and finish the night out as the dragon?

10 Velvet Goldmine (1998)
Sandy Powell's costumes are glam rock heaven. And, more universally, looks that go with music (glam rock, disco, goth) are always hits as costumes go.

09 Clue (1985)
I imagine you're scratching your head. That Tim Curry comedy from the 80s? That board game? Why, yes, my friends. I played the game all the time with my family growing up. I still play the game actually -- two weeks ago in fact. I saw the movie three times in the theater. Little remembered fact: The DVD features three 'what if' endings but in the theater there was only one. You had to try different theaters to see all the endings. Dutifully, I fell for the marketing ploy.


"Too make a long story short..." "TOO LATE!"

Much later in college one year, a Clue discussion erupted into party plans. There were six of us. We would dress as Clue for the party we were attending! I was Mr Green. [tangent: It was the first and the last time that I was ever seen w/ a moustache. Yuck]. The brilliance of dressing up with a group as Miss Scarlett, Mrs White, Mrs Peacock, Professor Plum, Colonel Mustard, and Mr Green (and a dead body if there's a seventh person) cannot be overstated. It's easy. It's creative (the movie characters are just one visual interpretration). It's not expensive. And, despite there being no definitive look to adhere to, people will recognize who all of you are, provided you stick together and especially if you bring the weapons.

08 Kill Bill (2003)
For the past several Halloweens I have had this fantasy of being Uma Thurman as The Bride. (What is it with me & Uma, come October 31st each year?) Long blond locks. An imitation Hattori Hanzo sword. A yellow jumpsuit. With blood stains. Friends as the remaining DVAS (Deadly Viper Assassination Squad) or the crazy 88s. They form my entourage and strut down the street with me. It's like one massive Sally Menke edited, Robert Richardson lensed, Quentin Tarantino directed dream sequence that's all about glorifying me. Me. Me. Me! (This fantasy has been brought to you by the holiday Halloween, my inner drag queen, and my tireless enthusiasm for self-aggrandizement. Just pretend that Halloween is my birthday. Go with it.)

07 Meet Me In St. Louis (1944)
Mainly because during its warm holiday-filled Americana it breaks for that lengthy somewhat atonal trick or treat segment. [more on that classic]

06 The Wizard of Oz (1939)
I'm thinking of I should make this movie exempt from all lists -- I talk about it too much.-- because it has so many advantages. This movie is so deeply enmeshed into the collective subconcious that one can, if inclined, connect it to all else. The more fascinating list to make would probably be along the lines of "Top Ten Things That Don't Make Me Think of The Wizard of Oz". It makes me think of everything: childhood, television, the cinema, Thanksgiving, Christmas, other 'friends of Dorothy', showtunes, midgets, shoes, Broadway, lions & tigers & bears, fantasy versus reality debates, beauty fascism, dreams, emeralds, short work days, hot air balloons... I could go on all day. I'll spare you.



But we're talking about Halloween. You'll see riffs on every one of its main characters this time of year. Silly spins (hirsute drag queens in Dorothy wigs), innocent enthusiasms (it makes a great family group costume), and every other imaginable interpretation. The second and better reason is the beautiful wickedness of The Wicked Witch of the West. Audience affection for this villain runs deep, but only on Halloween, the night when evil is good, does it seem appropriate to wish that Dorothy had never tossed that bucket of water her way. What a world... what a world.

05 The Crow (1994)
I've seen the mime face w/ black leather pants (easy, iconic) every year on the streets. But that's not why it reminds me of Halloween. There's also the creepy intertextual ghoulishness of a story about a dead man being played by a man who was killed on the set while filming the role (Brandon Lee, rest in peace). But that's not why it reminds me of Halloween. The Crow appears because I hail from Detroit, Michigan and so does this gruesome story.

If you'd have told me as a child that I'd have to explain "Devil's Night" (the night in which all The Crow's narrative mayhem occurs) to other people when I grew up I would have laughed at you with the easy myopia of childhood. 'Who doesn't know what Devil's Night is?' I would have scoffed. Apparently lots of people. Or so I discovered when I moved out west for college. When The Crow opened, I suddenly had an easy-to-cite cultural reference to explain the night of vandalism, arson, and general mischief that precedes Halloween. I thought everyone grew up tepeeing houses, egging cars, setting fires, and sneaking around their neighborhood on October 30th each and every year.

04 Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? (1962)
Which I talked about briefly in my Towleroad article this week

03 Halloween (1978)
Well, duh. Of course it would be on the list. True story: I saw it for the first time in 2004. I have this way of avoiding movies that I think will scare me. I only saw Silence of the Lambs a year after it opened because I had to (the Oscars you know) and I kept having nightmares about it. I figured, 'why the hell not? I'm already having nightmares!' The nightmares stopped once I saw it. It wasn't as scary as the nightmares. But Halloween is evilscary. The daylight scenes are even scary.

02 Bram Stoker's Dracula (1992)
Nothing says "Halloween" more than sunlight aversions and blood-lust. Of all vampire films, Francis Ford Coppola's elaborately bizarre, colorful, and passionate treatment of the vampire mythos is the one I hold most dear. It's not the "best", though. The most peculiar thing about this film and my love for it, is that I don't really think that much of it works. A good deal of the problems seems to be in the casting. The most interesting performance among the major characters (Sadie Frost as Lucy... previously discussed) has the least screen time. Keanu Reeves is wooden as Jonathan Harker, Gary Oldman lacks the sexual charisma that this romantic horror epic needs (though otherwise the performance works) and strangely, despite it being filmed during what were unarguably her peak years, Winona Ryder also flails about for the entire running time. She never was adept at period (nevermind those two Oscar nominations) but her star turn reads over the top rather than operatically passionate once the blood hits the wall. Still, despite many misgivings, the film is a spectacle in the best sense. You can't take your eyes off of it. Coppola's passion for le cinéma is evident throughout as he tries every conceivable camera trick in the book. His approach is a perfect fit for this grand guignol tale.

There's no trace of laziness in the movie (even the bad actors are trying hard), no fingerprints of the undead were involved in this film's making, only fully committed living and breathing artists attempting something awesome. For whatever reason, this particular Coppola film is never booked for repertory houses or even midnight screenings (though it would seem an ideal fit for both) . That's a shame because this epic was meant for big screens where the enormity of its oddness and those Oscar winning techs (costumes, makeup, visual effects) were properly showcased and able to cover for the clumsy bits.

01 The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993)
Who better to be considered the cinematic patron saint of Halloween than weird, wild-haired auteur Tim Burton? Maybe his films aren't what they once but it's hard to argue with that initial run encompassing Frankenweenie, Pee Wee's Big Adventure, Beetlejuice, Batman and Edward Scissorhands (1990). Other highlights like Ed Wood and Mars Attacks! (and Corpse Bride, Sleepy Hollow and Sweeney Todd if you're feeling generous) display a magical combo of the macabre and innocent, bound together with dark humor and visual invention. In other words, it's easy to love Tim Burton's movies for the exact same reasons that it's easy to enjoy Halloween.



The storyline of the frequently rereleased The Nightmare Before Christmas, which was actually directed by Coraline's Henry Selick (Burton produced and came up with the story), is actually or at least initially about a longing for Christmas. But from its hilarious and jokily gruesome opening number "This is Halloween" to its triumphant 'let's put on a show' reaffirmations of purpose at the end, this movie subverts all the yuletide love into an ode to Halloween as the supreme holiday for those with ghoulishly creative minds. That twist is this movie's grand trick and The Nightmare Before Christmas is still a treat.

I went pretty personal with the list. So let's hear yours: what movies most remind you of Halloween and why? And what are you dressing up as this year?
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