The “Sex and the City” movie opens today, but really, wouldn’t you rather watch Carrie, Samantha, Miranda and Charlotte spend a couple of hours at an isolated cottage, terrorized by a trio of masked psychos?
Yeah, me too. And in honor of “The Strangers”, here’s my latest Sympatico/MSN movie column, running down the admittedly short list of home-invasion movies.
(And yes, I know I left “Inside” out. I didn’t want to traumatize my readership that badly.)
I’d known Sydney Pollack was sick for a while now. There were rumblings of poor health at TIFF’s “Michael Clayton” premiere last September, and when the director’s office released a comment on the passing of his production-company partner Anthony Minghella earlier this year, the phrase “gravely ill” was used to describe Pollack’s condition.
On Monday, the news broke that he’d passed away after a struggle with cancer.
Pollack was, by all accounts, a complete and total mensch — generous to directors, supportive of actors, committed to the artistic integrity of his work as well as the work of others.
I saw him accept a Patron of the Arts award at the black-tie gala for the 2007 Palm Springs film festival. The award wasn’t really worth much — the Palm Springs awards are largely an excuse to get a bunch of famous people together for a really nice dinner — but he gave a gracious and entertaining speech. And you could feel the love in the room when he took the stage.
You hear a lot of polite applause in this business (and yes, you even do some of the polite applauding yourself), so when the real thing comes along, you’re surprised and gratified to recognize it. And you’re happy to join in.
Sydney Pollack was 73 years old.
My latest Sympatico/MSN DVD column is up, and the focus is on the only movie that matters this week: “Rambo”.
Not that it matters in a good way, mind you …
Okay, now I’m done with Cannes. Awards handed out, movies wrapped; I filed my last blog post on Saturday night, and wrote my final festival reports for Thursday’s paper this afternoon on the train up to London.
Oh, right, I’m in London now. Because when one is already on this side of the Atlantic, one might as well spend a few days eating Minstrels and drinking proper bitter before one comes home.
Also, there’s a new Mike Leigh movie out here, so I might as well catch that, too. See? I’m a workaholic!
Ladies and gentlemen, the end is in sight. I’ve seen my last movies (numbers 37 and 38, if you’re still keeping count) and all that’s left to do is analyze the awards when they’re delivered tomorrow night.
Due to a server lag, yesterday’s blog post has only gone up in the last few hours, but here it is for your enjoyment. To make up for your deprivation, here’s my latest Sympatico/MSN movies column, deconstructing the “Indiana Jones” movies in anticipation of number four, which I still haven’t been able to see, dammit.
I hope to catch it next week, once I can imagine going into a movie theater again without wanting to cry.
If you’re still keeping up with this, here’s my Cannes blog post for Day Nine, in which I give “Adoration” precisely as much respect as it deserves, and spend much more time discussing a far better film, Kelly Reichardt’s “Wendy and Lucy”.
Oh, and there’s some other stuff in there, too.
Just back from the day’s screenings, and have to turn them around for NOW right quick, but I didn’t want to leave you all stuck for reading material.
Thus, here’s my most recent NOW blog post, and here’s my proper Cannes report, which was written on Monday and appears in today’s paper.
Oh, and here’s this week’s Sympatico/MSN DVD column, which finds me drawing a parallel between “George A. Romero’s Diary of the Dead” and “National Treasure: Book of Secrets”. It totally works, if you ask me.
And finally, here’s my review of “This Beautiful City“, which opens in Toronto tomorrow and which you can probably wait to see on The Movie Network. It won’t be long in coming.
So there I am standing on the beach, watching waves roll in one after the other, the lights twinkling on the yachts moored a few hundred yards out, holding a lovely glass of actual Champagne … at a party for a movie in which my cousin Mark has played Joseph, father of Jesus.
Don’t believe me? Read my latest NOW blog post. It’s all in there.
Our grandparents would be so proud of him. They wouldn’t understand a minute of the film, but they’d be proud.
As you will see in my latest NOW blog post, yesterday’s Cannes experience was not, how do you say, so great.
Well, the movies were pretty good; it was just getting to see them that proved so problematic.
I really shouldn’t complain. I wasn’t turned away from anything, and I’m still in the south of France. As a matter of fact, I’m writing this in the shade of the Unifrance tent, in the international village, on the beach, with a lovely cool breeze coming in from the sea. The coffee is strong, the people are nice, and the sun is shining.
Sorry. Don’t mean to rub it in. But it’s nice to realize how lovely this experience can be, when you’re not trapped inside a movie theater for ten straight hours.
The new issue of NOW is out, featuring not one but two final Cannes reports from me.