The Screengrab : south park

DVD Digest for March 10, 2008

Paul Clark — Tue, 10 Mar 2009 14:00:00 GMT

This week, a handful of the most acclaimed films of 2008, and an animated classic gets released from the Disney vaults again.

This week’s selection of recent releases coming to DVD includes some of 2008’s best-reviewed films, including Sean Penn giving an Oscar-winning performance in Gus Van Sant’s Milk (Universal, also Blu-Ray), Anne Hathaway in Jonathan Demme’s Rachel Getting Married (Sony, also Blu-Ray), Charlie Kaufman’s Synecdoche, New York (Sony, also Blu-Ray) [the best film of the year, says I], Mike Leigh’s Happy-Go-Lucky (Disney), and the Swedish vampire chiller Let the Right One In (Magnolia). Also this week, Jason Statham in Transporter 3 (Lionsgate, also Blu-Ray), the real-life blues story Cadillac Records (Sony, also Blu-Ray), Paul Rudd and Seann William Scott in Role Models (Universal, also Blu-Ray), Charlize Theron in the WTO-centric ensemble piece Battle in Seattle (Universal, also Blu-Ray), and finally, one of the worst-received films of 2008, Mark Herman’s Holocaust-themed family movie The Boy in the Striped Pajamas (Disney).

The big news in classic releases this week is the 70th Anniversary “Platinum Edition” of one of Disney’s greatest animated classics, Pinocchio. Also coming to Blu-Ray, the new DVD includes new commentary from Leonard Maltin and others, some newly-unearthed deleted scenes and storyboards, and a bunch of new features for kids and animation buffs alike. Also this week: Richard Gere and Edward Norton in Primal Fear Special Edition (Paramount, also Blu-Ray), and perhaps the least likely “classic” I’ve spotlighted to date, Howard the Duck Special Edition (Universal).

In TV on DVD news, this week brings South Park Season 12 (Paramount, also Blu-Ray) and The Starter Wife Season 1 (Universal).

Finally, the biggest Blu-Ray only release this week is Batman: The Motion Picture Anthology 1989-1997 (Warner), which is great news if you don’t mind paying for two DVDs you’ll probably never watch just so you get DVDs of the Burton Batman movies. Also, where’s Mask of the Phantasm?

Cartoon Fever: The World’s Greatest Animated Shorts (Part Two)

Andrew Osborne — Thu, 28 Aug 2008 20:30:00 GMT

THE SPIRIT OF CHRISTMAS (1992 & 1995)

Even now, The Spirit of Christmas is funny as hell (and, uh, REALLY dirty...so if you haven’t been fired already, you might want to think twice before clicking the above clip at your workstation, unless of course you work in a Tourette’s ward). But way back in 1995, before Trey Parker and Matt Stone were famous, before South Park was a basic cable staple and before Stan, Kyle and Cartman were allowed to curse like cardboard cut-out sailors in their R-rated big-screen debut, this short (commissioned as a video Christmas card by a Fox TV exec who’d seen Parker and Stone’s college short “Jesus Vs. Frosty”) was a jaw-dropping revelation, a blend of comic provocation, pop culture geekery and relatable humanity that became the animators’ signature style when the cult popularity of their seemingly primitive debut catapulted them to infamy.

THE WRONG TROUSERS (1993)

One of the risks with animation is that the work it takes to create a finished film will bog down the story the film tells. But this has never been a problem for the films of Nick Park. With his beloved characters Wallace and Gromit, Park created some of animation’s most enduring films, which use a veddy British sense of humor to leaven some truly awe-inspiring flights of fancy. Nowhere is this more the case than in the second Wallace and Gromit adventure, The Wrong Trousers, which finds the dotty Wallace taking in a new boarder, with disastrous results. Armed with plenty of sound effects but only a single speaking role, Park tells his story almost completely through his images with a visual flair and storytelling efficiency that puts most features (animated or otherwise) to shame. The film even builds to an action-filled climax so assured that it reportedly inspired David O. Russell at one point when he was editing Three Kings. The Wrong Trousers demands multiple viewings -- not only because you might miss something the first time around, but also it’s hard to pay attention to Park’s bravura technique when you’re being so thoroughly entertained.

LUXO JR. (1986)

Other animation studios might make as much money as the geniuses at Pixar, but no American animation outlet can boast their critical cachet, a testament to the care with which they make their films and their ongoing quest to pursue new horizons. Even in their early days, Pixar was always experimenting, something that was in evidence as early as their second short film, Luxo Jr. Partly out of necessity, director John Lasseter and his team of animators didn’t use any of the cute animals that dominated the Disney model of animation, but rather a pair of everyday desk lamps. But while this decision was no doubt due to the fact that living creatures are much more difficult to animate via computer (a problem Pixar has long since resolved), Luxo Jr. nonetheless finds life in its inanimate protagonists. By finding possibilities for personality in the handful of possibilities presented by the lamps -- little more than a bulb, a swiveling head, a hinged arm and a base that hops around (complete with a power cord tail) -- Pixar established a knack for animating seemingly limited characters, something that would serve them well later on with such creations as Toy Story’s Mr. Potato Head, Monsters, Inc.’s Mike Wazowski, and even WALL*E and EVE. Pixar still cranks out a new animated short in conjunction with their features, but none they’ve made since has had the same level of charm as Luxo Jr.

NIGHT ON BALD MOUNTAIN (1940)

Alas, not all old-school animation techniques have managed to survive. When husband-and-wife Alexandre Alexeieff and Claire Parker created pin-screen animation- which involved manipulating a screen holding hundreds of thousands of pins and photographing the images a frame at a time- they couldn’t have known that their painstaking process would only end up being used on roughly half a dozen projects. But while pin-screen ended up requiring more work than most filmmakers were willing to give, it’s hard to argue with the results. In Alexeieff and Parker’s very first completed pin-screen short, Night on Bald Mountain, there’s a kind of expressiveness that can’t be found in any other form of animation, a smooth yet eerie sort of shadow play that, in the cast of this particular short, suits the material perfectly. It takes some searching to find Alexeieff and Parker’s other works (their best-known effort can be found at the opening of Orson Welles’ The Trial), but for fans of animation, it’s well worth the effort.

FAST FILM (2003)

Given the time required to make an animated film today, it’s understandable when animators use computers to aid them in their work. Still, it’s bracing to see an animator who attempts something impossibly ambitious without resorting to digital assistance. Perhaps the best recent example of this is Virgil Widrich’s Fast Film, a thirteen-minute piece from 2003 which integrated images from classic movies into an animated framework. Watching moments such as the one in which various movie-themed boxcars race down a track, it’s easy to think Widrich accomplished them with CGI. But think again- Widrich printed over 65,000 frames of film onto sheets of paper, folded the sheets into various three-dimensional objects to be placed into the image, and shot them in the proper frame order. Granted, after a while all the virtuosity on display here becomes a little overwhelming. But that seems a small price to pay for a work of such jaw-dropping ambition.

Click Here for Part One, Part Three, Part Four & Part Five

Contributors: Andrew Osborne, Paul Clark

DVD Digest for August 12, 2008

Paul Clark — Tue, 12 Aug 2008 14:00:00 GMT

After last week’s thin selection of new DVDs, this week brings a number of high-quality releases.

DVDs of the Week: DVDs couldn’t be much different than this week’s two most notable new releases, the Criterion release of Guy Maddin’s Brand Upon the Brain! and the final season of The Wire (HBO). But in its own way, each is pretty indispensible. Maddin’s film is, like his entire body of work, indescribable to anyone who hasn’t already seen it, but for those who are on his wavelength, it’s magical. That Criterion has finally embraced this most movie-drunk of filmmakers is exciting enough. But they’ve also gathered half a dozen different narration tracks for the sake of variety, including narration by Isabella Rossellini, Laurie Anderson, Eli Wallach, and Maddin himself. In addition, there’s a new documentary on the director, plus two new short films by Maddin, made especially for this release. So yeah, good news.

But if anything, the release of Season 5 of The Wire is even more of a cause for celebration. The groundbreaking, critically-acclaimed HBO series has been praised to the heavens in venues both classier and more authoritative than this one, so I’ll refrain from heaping still more effusive praise on a series that hardly needs it. All I can say is, if you haven’t experienced The Wire yet, you’ve got some great times ahead of you. And if you have, you don’t need me to convince you to buy the final season on DVD.

This week’s recent releases coming to DVD include: Dennis Quaid and Ellen Page in Smart People (Disney, also Blu-Ray); Stephen Chow’s cockeyed kids’ movie CJ7 (Sony, also Blu-Ray); and Val Kilmer and Stephen Dorff in Felon (Sony, also Blu-Ray). Also, three DVDs by Lech Majewski: The Garden of Earthly Delights, Glass Lips, and The Gospel According to Harry (all Kino), the last of which features a young Viggo Mortensen.

In TV on DVD, this week brings South Park Season 11 (Paramount), Prison Break Season 3 (Fox, also Blu-Ray), and Caroline in the City Season 1 (Paramount).

Finally, in Blu-Ray only news, the week’s big release almost certainly has to be Sony’s “Action” Box Set, which includes Jean Claude Van Damme in Maximum Risk, Steven Seagal in Half Past Dead, Wesley Snipes in 7 Seconds, and Ice Cube in xXx: State of the Union. I mean, come on- Van Damme, Seagal, and Snipes all in one box set? The 1993 version of me is stoked. Also this week: The Doors (Lionsgate) and Belly (Lionsgate), in case you were wondering.

Isaac Hayes, 1942--2008

Phil Nugent — Sun, 10 Aug 2008 22:00:00 GMT

Isaac Hayes has died, at 65, at his home in Memphis, Tennessee. Hayes first came to prominence through his work at Memphis's legendary Stax studios, where, still in his early twenties, he became a keyboard player with the house band, worked as part of the production team, and developed a fruitful songwriting partnership with David Porter. The Porter-Hayes credit appeared on some two hundred compositions, including a raft of hits by the magnificent duo Sam and Dave, including "Soul Man", "I Thank You", "You Don't Know Like I Know", "When Something Is Wrong with My Baby", and "Hold On, I'm Comin'", whose title phrase is said to have been born when the hard-working Hayes was importuning Porter to return from the men's room. No ego as endearingly supersized as Hayes's could have been completely satisfied with working behind the scenes, and in 1967 he released his first solo album, the jazz-flavored Presenting Isaac Hayes. That was followed in 1969 by the unexpected blockbuster success of Hot Buttered Soul, which established Hayes's gruff bass voice, his habit of interjecting spoken-word interludes into his songs, his flamboyantly extended performances of such numbers as "By the Time I Get to Phoenix", and, through its cover art, the iconic impact of his big bald head and taste for gold necklaces. The album made him Stax's biggest star at a precarious time in the label's history.

Hayes would first branch out into movies with his soundtrack for the black-private eye movie Shaft in 1971. The jarringly funky "Theme from Shaft" became a significant radio hit, and would earn Hayes (who had an on-screen cameo as a bartender) an Academy Award for Best Original Song, thus making him the first African-American to be given an Oscar for a non-acting contribution to a movie. (Shaft would also earn Hayes Grammy and Golden Globe Awards for Best Original Motion Picture Score.) When Stax staged a one-day concert in Los Angeles, featuring all its biggest acts, to commemorate the anniversary of the Watts riots, the resulting performance documentary, Wattstax (1973), featured Hayes in the concert-closing role of conquering hero, taking the stage in bare chest and chains. (He proceeded to perform "Theme from Shaft" and "Soulsville", but because MGM owned the rights to those songs and refused to give them up for the soundtrack, Hayes wound up recording another song, "Rollin' Down a Mountain", just so that there'd be something the movie could show after his grand entrance. The original footage was finally restored a few years ago when a buffed-up version of Wattstax was shown on the PBS series P.O.V. and released to DVD.)

By 1975, Stax was reduced ro filing for bankruptcy, but by then Hayes seemed more interested in his movie career anyway. He co-starred with Fred Williamson in the self-explanatory Tough Guys (1974) and then played the title role in Truck Turner. He had a recurring guest role as the ex-con Gandy Finch on The Rockford Files and ruled a post-apocalyptic Big Apple in John Carpenter's Escape from New York (1981). But through the 1980s and early '90s, most of the steam had escaped from his career. Salvation came in the unlikely form of the role of Chef on South Park, which didn't just give him a semi-regular paycheck and establish him as a beloved talisman of the 1970s; it gave him his most conspicuous music success in decades when the novelty song "Chocolate Salty Balls" (which he performed on the show and which was included in Chef Aid: The South Park Album) went to number one on the UK charts. After ten years, Hayes and South Park creators Matt Stone and Trey Parker went their separate ways over a nasty dispute over Hayes's reported indignation over the show's satirical treatment of Scientology. In the meantime, Hayes also put out some fresh music while appearing onscreen in Flipper, Illtown, Six Ways to Sunday, Blues Brothers 2000, Reindeer Games, Hustle & Flow, while lending his voice to Dr. Dolittle 2 and, of course South Park: Bigger, Longer, & Uncut. In 2002, he and other soul legends were paid tribute in the documentary Only the Strong Survive, and that same year he was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

A cause of death has not yet been determined.

The Screengrab Highlight Reel: June 14-20, 2008

Scott Von Doviak — Fri, 20 Jun 2008 21:00:00 GMT

It’s time to hit the ol’ fishin’ hole (wink-wink), but before we go, let’s bask in the glory that was the week in Screengrab.

We’ve outdone ourselves with this week’s Top Ten list. To be specific, we’ve outdone ourselves by ten with the Gay Pride Top Twenty.

We may go back to Summer School, but First Sunday will be our last.

Don’t mess with the Norton. He’ll Hulk you! He’ll Hulk the shit out of you!

So was that Shyamalan guy ever any good? A look back at The Sixth Sense.

Stan Winston and Cyd Charisse are still dead.

We’re about ready to let Roman Polanski back in the country, how about you?

If you’re offended by the South Park soundtrack, we suggest you blame Canada.

Hey, Mike Myers! People sure don’t like your new movie much – aside from Deepak Chopra, of course. Perhaps you should have read Take Five: Gotta Get a Guru first.

We didn’t read the alleged Frank Darabont draft of Indiana Jones, but we posted about it anyway.

And finally, those two words that strike fear into the hearts of all right-thinking Americans: It’s Pat.

My Movie Studio: We Want Your Pitches

Phil Nugent — Mon, 19 May 2008 19:00:00 GMT

If you've been enjoying using this Internet thing to watch short films and sign anti-Uwe Boll petitions but have started wondering when it's going to begin impacting the way feature films actually get made, you might want to check out My Movie Studio. This is an Internet-based scheme designed to attract mobs of investors and unlikely sources of talent and bring them together in a plan to change the face of movies as we know it, or at least have some chuckles while perhaps making a few bucks. The site invites anyone who can come up with a dumb enough on-line pseud to set up a "pitch page" and describe their idea for a really cool movie. "Your Movie Pitch," as the rules lay it out, "is the plot of your movie, distilled to its most essential elements. Make it punchy. Make it specific. Give it a tone. Make it memorable. You can add anything you'd like to support your pitch: a synopsis, poster art, character art, storyboards, a longer treatment, a trailer you made with your friends, songs you think would be great in the soundtrack, original score by you—whatever you think will get people excited about your idea." Obviously, these should be "original" ideas; don't bother thinking up a user name just to post your suggestion that a Grand Theft Auto movie would be the shit. (Unless, of course, you happen to own the rights to Grand Theft Auto.) Also, obviously, "Your Movie Pitch should include invented characters, not the stars you’d like to see play them." Perhaps not so obviously, the site is not soliciting screenplays. The idea is to select three solid pitches that will then be developed by professional writers and directors. Who'll be doing the selecting? Investors, who are expected to pony up a hundred dollars apiece. The dream is that the site will raise six million dollars this way, and that will be enough to finance three feature films. The three people whose pitches are selected will each receive $25,000 to go with their on-screen story credit. (It costs nothing to log in and pitch.)

If parts of it sound a little Michel Gondryesque, it should be mentioned that the guys behind the site are serious men with an honorable history of chewing at the edges of the entertainment industry. Michael Bertin, who earned an MBA from the University of Chicago, is a critic for the Austin Chronicle and author (with Kevin Booth) of a biography of the late comic Bill Hicks; his co-founder, Glasgow Phillips is a past contributor to South Park and the lamented Might magazine who recorded his own attempts to redefine content providing in the 1990s in his lively memoir The Royal Nonesuch. My Movie Studio is based on the risky but intriguing notion of opening up the process by which movies get the green light. For Bertin and Phillips--and, according to their website, for the unnamed talent providers they hope to entice to come in on the projects--the excitement at this stage of the game is in waiting to see what kind of ideas are going to pour in over the transom. As for the investing side, Bertin writes, "A hundred bucks might seem like a decent chunk of change, but really, it's not much more than your monthly cable bill or maybe a ticket to a football game. But the cable company doesn't let you choose the programming and the football coaches don't let you call the plays. Then, at the end of the month or end of the game, nobody gives you any money back when the shows are good or the team wins. With this, the crowd is controlling the process and they are going to profit from it when it goes well."

The 12 Greatest Movies Based on TV Shows, Part I

Scott Von Doviak — Thu, 08 May 2008 20:00:00 GMT

Everyone’s talking about all the comic book movies infesting theaters this summer, but there’s another pop culture invasion afoot – from Speed Racer to Sex and the City to Get Smart! and the second X-Files movie, small-screen fare is taking over the multiplex. This is nothing new, of course, but it is a handy excuse for your friendly neighborhood Screengrabbers to look back at the history of TV-to-movie transitions and pluck a few diamonds out of a deep, dark mine.

THE UNTOUCHABLES (1987)

Technically, Brian De Palma’s stylish, iconic film version of The Untouchables isn’t based on the hit TV show from the early 1960s; it’s based on incorruptible federal agent Elliot Ness’ book of the same name. But the TV show and the movie both sprang from the same source material, and that’s good enough for us. Besides, DePalma adapted many of the same narrative tropes as the television show: the morally inflexible Ness, his wise old streetwise mentor, and his diverse band of wisecracking cops aping the stock players in WWII movies. What DePalma did with them, however, is what made the movie great: elevating the entire conflict beyond the simple good guy/bad guy cops and robbers drama of the TV show, he turned it into grand opera, nothing less than an epic, tragic conflict between Al Capone as a smiling Satan and Ness himself as a tortured Jesus. And because it’s sly postmodernist Brian De Palma behind the camera, he couldn’t help winking at the audience from time to time, whether he was blatantly ripping off – er, paying homage to – the Odessa Steps sequence of Battleship Potemkin in the thrilling train station shootout or tipping the hand of his entire approach with Capone ordering a brutal execution as he tearfully watches Pagliacci at the theater. Gone are the cramped sets and gritty feel of the series, replaced by grand, chasm-like buildings and swooping outside shots; gone is the cocky, confident Ness of Robert Stack, set aside by a tortured Kevin Costner in what would be one of the last coherent performances of his career. Capone is a jolly Lucifer, and Frank Nitti (played by the sallow, vampire-faced Billy Drago) is his lizardlike assassin. Adding, on top of the whole thing, a classic, catchy, percussive score by none other than Ennio Morricone, and De Palma – the director so many people love to hate – had finally scored the first major blockbuster hit of his career.

MONTY PYTHON AND THE HOLY GRAIL (1975)

For a movie that’s made so many people laugh for over 30 years, the people who made Monty Python and the Holy Grail didn’t have a very good time. The first big-screen effort from arguably the greatest sketch comedy group of all time was plagued with problems: they were frequently denied access to filming locations they thought they’d secured; Graham Chapman, playing the part of King Arthur, was plagued with psychological and physical problems as a result of his recovery from alcoholism; the entire production was plagued with budgetary problems and probably wouldn’t even have been made if members of Pink Floyd (huge fans of the Monty Python’s Flying Circus TV show) hadn’t have stepped in and pumped money into the film; the troupe was working on an incredibly strict filming deadline and nerves were frayed to the breaking point trying to get the production in on time; and much of the filming was done in locations that left the cast and crew cold, wet, and miserable much of the time, when they weren’t almost dying from falling off of a cliff. And in the end, what did they have to show for it? Nothing more than the purest distillation possible of their absurdist, kitchen-sink comic sensibilities. Decades of abuse at the hands of geeks who didn’t know when to leave well enough alone still haven’t managed to sink Monty Python and the Holy Grail or its hard-earned reputation as one of the funniest movies ever made. And if filming it was fraught with peril, that just means that it had even more in common with the original TV show: Monty Python’s Flying Circus faced censorship battles, ratings problems, drug and alcohol abuse from a cast who were often at each other’s throats, a network that completely failed to understand the show and scheduled it in the most ham-handed way possible, and, of course, a miniscule budget and a ruthless production timeline. So it’s no surprise that Holy Grail so effectively captures the postmodern comic brilliance of Flying Circus; they’d all been there before.

THE SIMPSONS MOVIE (2007)

For all the hype that went into the release of the big-screen version of Our Favorite Family, you’d think something exceptionally earth-shaking was going to happen. But really, what was the big deal? It wasn’t the revival of a beloved but long-lost franchise; The Simpsons is still on the air and is likely to remain so until the apocalypse. It didn’t promise any major changes in continuity, since The Simpsons doesn’t have any. (They did kill off at least one supporting character, but it’s not like the entire future of the series hinged on the actions of Dr. Nick Riviera.) And with the exception of a hilarious “goddamn” from Marge and a brief glimpse at Bart’s hand-drawn doodle, it didn’t even take much advantage of the creative free space of a theatrical release. All it did was deliver, essentially, a triple-length episode of The Simpsons. But that’s pretty much what the show’s fans wanted, and the producers, writers and directors gave them an extremely high-quality triple-length episode for their money. The animation is terrific, and one of the few ways in which the filmmakers do take advantage of the big screen is in a gorgeous color palate and some cinematic storytelling that uses up every inch of the space allotted. The writing is top-notch, with tons of funny lines and despite a bit of a sag near the end, it’s one of the tightest comedies in recent memory; while the show’s latter seasons aren’t as dismal as some embittered fans would have you believe, measured against the product on TV, The Simpsons Movie is a lot funnier, more controlled, and better at what people value in the show. The gimmicky guest stars are (literally) disposed of early on, leaving Albert Brooks – a veteran of the series who’s provided some of its most memorable moments – to nearly steal the show from then on. Sure, it’s just a long episode of the show, but that’s good enough for me.

STAR TREK II: THE WRATH OF KHAN (1982)

The 1979 Star Trek--The Motion Picture was many years' worth of stops and starts in coming, and remains a very expensive project that no one involved with looks back on proudly. But despite its being regarded as a disappointment, it did make enough money that Paramount decided to burn off whatever good will remained among fans of the TV series by making a much less pricey sequel for the summer trade. It was actually the sequel that rejuvenated interest in the property and launched the long-running movie franchise. The writer-director Nicholas Meyer, who had previously demonstrated a flair for playing with other people's characters in his Sherlock Holmes novel and screenplay The Seven-Per-Cent Solution, was brought in late and given a short window in which to prepare a shooting script, and managed to do it by cobbling together the best elements of the many already-discarded attempts by other writers—including the idea of a sequel to the old TV episode "Space Seed" with Ricardo Montalban reprising his role as the regal, megalomaniac villain Khan. He also had the masterstroke of supplying Leonard Nimoy with a gorgeous death scene as Mr. Spock, which was reportedly a key factor in persuading Nimoy to go back on his vow to never put his ears back on after the first movie. The results were greeted with rapturous gratitude by long-time fans and non-Trekkers alike despite attempts to sabotage the release by Star Trek creator Gene Roddenberry, whose displeasure with something that someone wanted to do with his baby was almost infallible proof that it must be a step in the right direction.

SOUTH PARK: BIGGER, LONGER & UNCUT (1999)

Most "movies" spun off from still-current, ongoing TV series are just stretched-out TV episodes, sometimes with pricier special effects or guest stars. (The last straw may have been the over-hyped 1998 X-Files movie, which tarted up a subpar script from the series' "conspiracy" with a fireball explosion, a Martin Landau cameo, and the threat of the two leads kissing, then ended with a series-impacting plot twist designed to make those smart enough to have stayed at home feel left out when the fall TV season began.) The South Park movie, a genuine act of pop outrage with its mock-Disney-cartoon-musical score (written by series creators Matt Stone and Trey Parker and composer Marc Shaiman, who later brought Hairspray to Broadway) and its Colorforms-meets-Photoshop images of Saddam Hussein and a weirdly sympathetic Satan getting it on, is the rare example of someone bringing their hot, pre-sold property to the big screen and seeing it as a reason to step up their game. At a time when movies are getting smaller and smaller and moving more and more to TV and computer screens and even cell phones, Parker and Stone felt an old-fashioned obligation to enlarge their vision for the theater version. What's more, their discovery of just how much they could do with their little freak hit informed and improved the subsequent seasons of the TV version, now on its twelfth season and going strong. In fact, it was with the movie that South Park made its real transition from giggly fad to one of the cornerstones of our civilization.

MIAMI VICE (2006)

The '80s TV show co-created by Michael Mann and Anthony Yerkovich was very much a product of its time, so much so that Manhunter, the 1986 movie that Mann made while the show was still on the air, looks a lot more like the movie called Miami Vice that he made twenty years later. The movie doesn't have the high-contrast visual scheme or the pastel threads or the distracting celebrity cameos of the series; it does have the tropical setting and some character names in common with the series, but what it mainly has is the hopeless-romantic atmosphere and the coiled-spring bursts of action that the show reached for in its proudest moments, executed by a gifted director who had had a couple of decades to work on his moves. The movie, which required significant rewriting to satisfy the whims of one of its stars, Jamie Foxx, has been released in a "director's cut" DVD version, and neither it nor the theatrical release can be said to be free of lulls or to consistently make a world of sense. But when it's at its most intoxicating--especially when Gong Li points her sad headlights at the camera as the cinematographer Dion Beebe is adjusting the light on the horizon just so while God, looking over his shoulder, takes notes--it can get you higher than all the coke in Colombia.

- Leonard Pierce, Phil Nugent

READ PART II