The Screengrab : zooey deschanel

Screengrab Review: "Gigantic"

Nick Schager — Wed, 01 Apr 2009 15:00:00 GMT

Brian (Paul Dano) is a single 28-year-old who sells luxury mattresses out of a sparsely furnished Manhattan loft. He likes to get together with his elderly dad (Ed Asner) and older brothers (Ian Roberts and Robert Stanton) at a forest cabin to drink shroom-enhanced tea and wander about the woods. And ever since he was a little boy, he’s dreamed of adopting a Chinese baby to call his own. He’s oh-so-very odd, and so too is Gigantic, a borderline insufferable trifle that dispenses quirkiness with its every gesture and breath. Apparently weaned on little more than Sundance-style indies, director Matt Aselton proves a prime practitioner of eccentric pap, from Brian’s first encounter with flighty, peculiar Harriet (Zooey Deschanel) – whose faux-adorable nickname is Happy, and who falls asleep on one of Brian’s establishment’s beds after coming to pick up a $14,000 mattress for her wealthy dad (John Goodman) – to a climactic family reunion, Chinese tyke included, in which Harriet is told that normality is an illusion right before she takes some whacks at a Muammar al-Gaddafi-shaped piñata.

Brian and Harriet fall for each other primarily because Aselton’s script (co-written by Adam Nagata) is under the impression that weirdness attracts. In terms of the narrative, such a notion holds true, though there’s little that’s attractive (or even tolerable) about these nondescript bores, who despite their crying, moping and rambling about, haven’t been conceived beyond an embryonic, idiosyncrasies-only stage. To escape the blunt blather of Harriet’s father, whom Goodman vainly attempts to embody as a larger-than-life caricature of kooky affluence, Harriet nonchalantly asks Brian “Do you have any interest in having sex with me? Now?” It’s a providential proposition for Brian, given that his active efforts to adopt a foreign child make him something like the anti-Viagra, and he thus readily agrees. Away the two go to dad’s station wagon to get it on, thus initiating a romance that soon involves torpid cutie-pie banter, Harriet anxiously puking in a bathroom, a break-up, and a final reconciliation that – given the duo’s inability to exude anything other than self-conscious indie-kid coolness – strikes one as more tragic than uplifting.

Aselton’s direction expresses Brian’s detachment from his surroundings (and Harriet) through lifelessly studied compositions. Just as his visual style is frequently inert, his leads’ performances are lethargic, with Dano’s somnambulistic routine accentuating the fact that Brian is a cipher posing as a real person, and Deschanel’s kooky, off-center shtick so self-satisfied and, at this stage in her career, so hackneyed that everything she says or does registers as phony. Gigantic’s central romance is paper-thin, and feebly complemented by meandering digressions like the aforementioned drugged-out family gathering and a business meeting between one of Brian’s siblings (Roberts) and Japanese executives that takes place at a massage parlor where they’re all receiving “happy endings.” Along the way, metaphors compete for attention, with the drowning rats of Brian’s scientist friend eventually ceding ground to a mysterious homeless man (Zach Galifianakis) who periodically stalks, and then viciously pummels, Brian. Unsurprisingly, he’s the film’s most relatable and empathetic character.

The Rep Report (March 26 - April 1)

Phil Nugent — Wed, 25 Mar 2009 17:00:00 GMT

NEW YORK: Film Forum celebrates the life and career of director Jules Dassin, an American expatriate who died last year, at the age of 96. With such pictures as the French heist picture Rififi (1955), the prison picture Brute Force (1947), and the 1948 tribute to the virtues of on-location filming The Naked City, Dassin can claim a lot of the credit for shaping the evolution of the crime genre during its ripest years; the schedule also includes everybody's favorite underappreciated Dassin film, the 1950 LOndon-set cult classic Night and the City, with Richard Widmark giving the performance of his career as an ambitious grifter whose inability to put a cap on his ingenious schemes proves the downfall of everyone around him, himself included. Also included are such rarities and oddities as the truckers' noir Thieves Highway (1949) with Richard Conte and Jack Oakie and the 1968 Up Tight, a remake of The Informer that transposes the story to the black militant scene in the days after the assassination of Martin Luther King. Rounding things out are more than half a dozen of the films that Dassin made starring his wife, Melina Mercouri (Never on Sunday, Topkapi).

Today marks the beginning of the annual New Directors/New Films festival, which among New York film freaks marks the first real day of spring. This year's schedule begins with Amreeka, Cherien Dabis's film about a Palestinian family who immigrate to America at the time of the invasion of Iraq. The closing night attraction, on April 5, is We Live in Public, director Ondi Timoner's long-awaited follow-up to her 2004 documentary DiG!

FLORIDA: The 11th Annual Sarasota Film Festival runs March 27 through April 5. This year's festival includes a retrospective tribute to director Hal Ashby, with screenings of The Landlord, Shampoo, The Last Detail, Harold and Maude, Bound for Glory, and others, and with appearances by Ashby biographer Nick Dawson, Illeana Douglas, Norman Jewison, and Jon Voight. There's also a complete retrospective of films that document the work of artists Christo and Jeanne-Claude, who will also appear at a Q & A.

PHILADELPHIA: There's also the Philadelphia Film Festival and Cinefest 09, starting tomorrow and running through April 6. The opening night attraction is the comedy (500) Days of Summer. It stars Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Zooey Deschanel. Let's assume that you're already in Philadelphia. What the hell else do you need to know?

Faking Farts with Olivia Thirlby

Scott Von Doviak — Mon, 02 Mar 2009 20:30:00 GMT

If you already have a crush on Olivia Thirlby based on her performances in Juno, The Wackness and/or Snow Angels – and of course you do – you may not want to read the new Papermag profile of the actress, which is specifically designed to instill or enhance such a crush whether you want it or not.

“With an urban sensibility that could only come from having grown up in New York City, Thirlby is the kind of girl that appeals to guys who might have a thing for Zooey Deschanel or a young Parker Posey (read: twenty-somethings who wear glasses, whether they need them or not),” writes Whitney Spaner, who obviously knows the Screengrab’s weaknesses all too well. But wait! She’s also “grounded and well-humored”! For example, Thirlby “has set her sights on playing Princess Fiona on Broadway in Shrek the Musical, if only to sing Fiona and Shrek's lovey-dovey song about, um, breaking wind, if you will. Fake fart noises are sort of Thirlby's M.O. "I saw it with my best friend, who's known me for years, and she grabbed my arm and said, 'Oh my god, it's you!' They were onstage farting for like a whole minute.”

But if a fondness for fake farting isn’t enough to sway your affections, how about the fact that she “operates on a strict monthly budget, depends on the subway and doesn't relish the idea of becoming so famous that she can't ride public transportation without being recognized. ‘I don't think it will ever get there,’ she says, genuinely hopeful. ‘Chris Noth rides the subway everyday, so if he can do it, I can do it.’” Obviously she has no idea which Screengrab personnel ride the New York subway.

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Trailer Review: 500 Days of Summer

Paul Clark — Fri, 30 Jan 2009 17:00:00 GMT

Anyone else getting a Garden State vibe off this trailer? Sure, there’s that leaden voiceover, which sounds vaguely like the narrator was trying channel Eli Roth’s Thanksgiving. But otherwise, there’s the offbeat-cute male lead pursuing the free-spirited woman, set against plenty of quirky backdrops. No doubt this vibe was intentional on the part of Fox Searchlight, looking to turn their latest Sundance title into an arthouse hit among the indie-rock set (which band will change the characters’ lives this time?). Of course, I’m willing to give anything with Zooey Deschanel a chance (I have to- it’s a condition in my Screengrab contract), and I’ll definitely take Joseph Gordon-Levitt over a mopey Zach Braff. But still, this looks like the sort of kinda-sorta romance that has turned the “Sundance movie” into a hidebound genre unto itself. And after a quick scan of IMDb revealed that the “Summer” of the title references Deschanel’s character’s name, I have no reason to believe that my early assessment of the movie is too far off base.

2008 in Review: Phil Nugent's Top Ten

Phil Nugent — Sat, 27 Dec 2008 16:00:00 GMT

BEFORE I FORGET: Writer-director-star's Jacques Nolot's measured, surprisingly affecting portrait of an aging gay hustler whose friends are dying off (as he himself enters his twenty-fourth year of being HIV-positive) and who lives in fear of losing the very memories that he's become mired in. A dry-eyed yet very moving experience, this French film arrived in theaters here in late summer and attracted about as much attention as most films do when they're not in English and include plenty of footage of men in their fifties and sixties with their clothes off.

CHOP SHOP Writer-director Rahmin Bahrani, who also made Man Push Cart and the forthcoming Goodbye Solo, makes movies about people different from those at the center of mainstream movie culture, hard-edged but sympathetic explorations of what it means to be economically shut out and culturally isolated. This is real Neo-Realism for our times, and it makes something like Wendy and Lucy look like the overpraised, pity-the-poor-waif hankie movie it is.

A CHRISTMAS TALE: Arnaud Desplechin's two-and-a-half-hour, bracingly grown-up domestic drama has all the things that make the holidays great: inherited terminal illness, drunken name-calling, childhood fantasies that would make Dr. Phil alert the FBI, adulterous yearnings, repressed family resentments, family resentments that couldn't be less repressed if they were spelled out on the side of the Goodyear blimp, and bitterly estranged siblings battling over which of them will get the bragging rights for the crucial donation to mom's bone marrow transplant. All that plus this classic Christmas Eve conversation between a drunken adult and a couple of kids: "Boys, you should go to bed." "We're waiting for Jesus." "But Jesus never existed." "We'll wait anyway. We want to see him"

THE CLASS: Laurent Cantet's improvisational take on the education system. See the Screengrab Q & A.

THE DARK KNIGHT: Because Heath Ledger's Joker convinced me that if I didn't include this one, he'd come back to talk to me about it. This one is also for the woman who was sitting behind me at the Empire 25 in Times Square, who, when Gary Oldman's Jim Gordon let his wife know that he hadn't really been killed by showing up on the doorstep in the middle of the night and the wife slapped him--Ka-POW!!-- across his sheepish face, said, "I know that's right!" and who, when the wife then grabbed him and kissed him while his cheek was still throbbing, whispered, "That's right, too."

THE EDGE OF HEAVEN: Fatih Akin's Head-On was one of my favorite movies of the decade. A pure charge of sadomasochistic romantic torment, it was by turns funny, angry, sexy, and heart-breaking, and it just seemed to flow as naturally as a spring brook. His newest multi-character drama isn't as ferociously inspired as that picture was; the plot is built on a string of coincidences, and Akin lets you hear the gears turning. But it's still one of the most remarkable dramas of the year, from a filmmaker who remains a man to watch.

THE ORDER OF MYTHS: Margaret Brown's jaw-dropping documentary about the parallel, racially segregated Mardi Gras cultures of Mobile, Alabama. Would make for the double feature of the year if paired with another remarkable documentary about race and Southern culture, Godfrey Cheshire's Moving Midway.

THE SECRET OF THE GRAIN: This entry is partly a mea culpa. I first saw Abdellatif Kechiche's Franco-Tunisian family drama, a sprawling film with a basically simple story about an aged immigrant trying to start up a restaurant, when it played last spring at the Tribeca Film Festival, and at the time, I wrote a review that emphasized my problems with it, especially my feeling that it sometimes left its performers stranded in needlessly meandering long takes that did not justify its running time of two and a half hours. I'm not quite ready to take all that back, but I have to admit that, in the six months since, parts of this movie have come back and played themselves over and over in my head when I was least expecting to think about them again, and that I can't say that about many other films I saw this year. It's just now opened commercially in select U.S. theaters, and damned if I don't feel like I ought to see it again now that I'm no longer suffering from festival fever. In the meantime, I sure wouldn't try to talk anyone else out of seeing it.

SYNECDOCHE, NY: The flaws of Charlie Kaufman's long, cluttered film don't look like much to me in comparison to its achievement: a comedy about all the ways that our obsessions with death and futility prevent us from getting anything done with the precious time we have here, which does full justice to this very depressing theme yet also manages to be very funny. People who fault Kaufman for excessive cleverness might as well be complaining that action movies promote antisocial behavior. Kaufman is clever; more than that, he's actually intelligent. And he's one of the few artists in movies actively grappling with what might just be one of the great concerns of the post-modern world: how do people smart enough to see all the reasons for believing that everything is hopeless stop using their intellligence to trip them themselves up?

WALL-E: The first quarter-hour or so of this Pixar haymaker constitute the most astonishing kind of triumph: a fully realized, scarily believable vision of Hell on Earth that I felt like I never wanted to leave, or at least never stop watching. If, once the plot kicks in, it settles down into a mere first-rate satirical animated love story with a kick, I'd hate for that to seem like a complaint.

HONORABLE MENTION: Dear Zachary: A Letter to His Son about His Father, Encounters at the End of the World, The Flight of the Red Balloon, Full Battle Rattle, The Go-Getter, In Search of a Midnight Kiss, Iron Man, Jellyfish, Kung Fu Panda, Let the Right One In, Man on Wire, Milk, My Winnipeg, Patti Smith: Dream of Life, Paranoid Park, Pray the Devil Back to Hell, Slumdog Millionaire, Summer Palace, Taxi to the Dark Side, Trouble the Water, The Unforseen, Up the Yangtze, The Visitor, Water Lilies, Waltz with Bashir, The Witnesses, The Wrestler

BEST MOVIE RELEASED IN THE U.S. IN 2008 WHICH, FOR SOME REASON, EVERY CRITIC IN THE U.S. PUT ON HIS OR HER TEN-BEST LIST FOR 2007: 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days

BEST RESTORATION/BEST RE-ISSUE: The Exiles, Kent MacKenzie's legendary 1961 documentary-style look at the Native American subculture of Los Angeles's Bunker Hill. Not as great as the first two Godfather films, which also got a handsome and timely restoration, but that was going to happen anyway. This was more of a happy surprise.

BEST FILMED THEATER: the "avant-garde" production of Hamlet in Jellyfish; the kids' play in A Christmas Tale

BEST SCENE OF A COUPLE OF GUYS BURIED IN PROSTHETIC MAKE-UP GETTING BOOZED UP AND SINGING ALONG WITH BARRY MANILOW: Hellboy II: The Golden Army

REALLY GOOD TV: The HBO film Longford, Generation Kill, Breaking Bad, the last season of The Wire, the last episode of The Shield, Sarah Palin on the interview circuit, and The Drinky Crow Show on Adult Swim

GREAT PERFORMANCES: Jeffrey Wright, Columbus Short, and Eamonn Walker in Cadillac Records, Catherine Deneuve, Mathieu Amalric, Jean-Paul Roussilllon, and Chiara Mastroianni in A Christmas Tale, Sean Penn and Emile Hirsch in Milk, Robert Downey, Jr. in Iron Man and Tropic Thunder, Danny McBride in The Foot Fist Way and Tropic Thunder, Jeff Bridges in Iron Man, Anil Kapoor and Irrfan Khan in Slumdog Millionaire, Juliette Binoche in The Flight of the Red Balloon, Viola Davis in Doubt, Heath Ledger and Aaron Eckhart in The Dark Knight, Mickey Rourke and Marisa Tomei in The Wrestler, Melissa Leo in Frozen River, Sally Hawkins and Eddie Marsen in Happy-Go-Lucky, Rebecca Hall, Javier Bardem, and Penelope Cruz in Vicki Christina Barcelona, Samantha Morton in Synecdoche, NY, Patricia Clarkson in Elegy and Married Life, Michelle Williams in Synecdoche, NY and Wendy and Lucy, Habib Boufares and Hafsia Herzi in The Secret of the Grain, James Franco in Pineapple Express, Richard Dreyfuss in W., Kristen Scott-Thomas in I've Loved You So Long, Kathryn Hahn in Step Brothers, Michael Shannon in Revolutionary Road, Tea Leone in Ghost Town, Russell Brand in Forgetting Sarah Marshall, Jane Lynch in Role Models, Richard Jenkins, Danai Jekesai Gurira, and Hiam Abbass in The Visitor, Ludivine Sagnier in Love Songs and A Girl Cut in Two, Andrew Garfield in Boy A, Famke Janssen in Turn the River, Greta Gerwig in Baghead, Jeanne Balibar in The Duchess of Langeais

BEST USE OF ZOOEY DESCHANEL: The unofficial muse of the Screengrab got the royal treatment in The Go-Getter, a too-little-seen road comedy that marked the writer-director feature debut of Martin Hynes, previously best known as the star of the 1999 short George Lucas in Love. The movie, which also features terrific work by Jena Malone, Maura Tierney, Bill Duke, Judy Greer, Nick Offerman, and its young star, Lou Taylor Pucci, doesn't introduce Deschanel's character unscreen until midway through, though she keeps in touch via cell phone, so the audience gets to have its collective ear tickled by the entrancing sound her voice before being premitted to gaze upon her ethereal loveliness. Slow to turn up in theaters and too quick to vacate them, The Go-Getter was actually completed in 2007, the same year that Deschanel appeared on the small screen in a guest appearance on the increasingly rotten Weeds that came to exactly nothing and as Dorothy as the stinko Wizard of Oz-as-sci-fi-fantasy miniseries Tin Man. This year, she graduated to big-studio movies that sought to exploit her freshness and talent in the name of shoring of has-been directors (in M. Night Shyamalan's The Happening) and tired stars (in The Yes Man with Jim Carrey). No wonder the poor kid's looking to break into music.

SHE'S JUST A GIRL WHO CAN'T SAY NO: In Boarding Gate, Asia Argento ran drugs, escaped a hail of gunfire on a motorcycle, got drugged and raped (off-screen) by a bunch of Japanese businessmen, choked Michael Madsen with his own belt only to discover that he kind of enjoyed it, handcuffed Madsen and shot him in the head, and traveled to Hong Kong to find herself at the mercy of Kim Gordon, all nice work if you can get it. She also slipped into black underwear and matching fuck-me shoes to pose for the poster, holding a big-ass gun that she was going to have trouble concealing in that outfit. In The Last Mistress, she told dirty stories about herself and made eating ice cream look as if ought to count as a violation of the Patriot Act. In Mother of Tears, she swam through an underground sea of sewage and gore, got paralyzed, became psychic, witnessed the murders of her friends by ghouls who throttled women with their own intestines and shoved phallic pikes between their legs until the pointy ends came out their mouths, splattered a woman's head like a cantaloupe during a train ride, and hung out with Udo Kier. That last was one was directed by her father. I can't for the life of me decide what that makes it all better or even worse.

BEST INSIDE SNAPSHOT OF HOLLYWOOD: Nina Davenport's documentary Project Filmmaker began with the actor Liev Schreiber, who was planning to make his first film as a director, Everything Is Illluminated (2005), based on the Jonathan Safran Foer novel. Schreiber was watching MTV when he saw a report about the effects of the Iraq War and saw a 25-year-old Iraqi, Muthana Mohmed, explaining that he wanted to be a filmmaker but the Americans just blew up the country's film school. In a fit of liberal guilt, Schrieber magnanimously sent word that this lad was to be found and hired and brought to the Czech Republic to work on the set of his major studio production. And Schreiber was so impressed with his own gesture that he further instructed that a documentary would be made to record this inspiring episode in annals of the brotherhood of man. The next thing anyone knew, there was a sullen, pissed-off young Iraqi on the set, telling Davenport's camera how freaked out he was to be "working for a Jewish director of a Jewish movie defending the Jewish theory"--that would appear to be the "theory" that the Holocaust happened--and bitterly complaining that while the most important scenes were being filmed, he was made to remain in a trailer, "mixing the snacks." Davenport seems a little overly taken with the notion that Muthana's story parallels that of Iraq itself since 2003, and way too taken with the idea that there's some larger comment to mae about the culture at large that metasized in Baghdad: at one point, she cuts from actual footage of carnage in Iraq to gruseomely made-up extras lying in heaps on the set of Doom, a movie based on a video game, whose star, Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson, arranged to sent Muthana to film school in London after the little fella's love affair with Liev Schreiber went the way of all flesh. By the end, Davenport herself is trying to explain to Mohmed that she can't continue to shell out money whenever he says he needs it and complaining that he's gotten his hands on her footage and is "holding it hostage." Early on, Liev Schreiber's associates say that Mohmed simply didn't understand the mechanics of how a smart operator makes himself "indispensible" to a director and so uses his time on a film set as a career stepping stone. But they can't say he didn't learn as he went along.

MOST EFFECTIVE MINDLESS SCARE MACHINE: The Strangers

SHITTIEST-LOOKING MOVIE OF THE YEAR: It used to be that back when filmmaking on almost any scale was an incredibly expensive, physically demanding enterprise, low-budget indie filmmakers and proud amateurs who either couldn't afford or achieve decent lighting or camerawork could be counted on to point to the butt-ugliness of their work as proof of their artistic integrity. But recent technological advances have made films that can't meet a certain level of visual polish harder and harder to come by. JCVD is worth pointing to as a real match of form and content, yoking its single, solitary, half-bright idea--let's get all meta with Jean-Claude Van Damme!--not just to a slack and unimaginative execution but to a visual style that makes it look as if Dario Argento had rubbed entrails all over the camera lens, or that the entire country of Belgium had neglected to pay its light bill. Here's to director Mabrouk el Mechri for kickin' it old school.

NOT ALL THAT: Baghead, Ballast, Be Kind Rewind, Che, Doubt, Frozen River, George Romero's Diary of the Dead, A Girl Cut in Two, Heartbeat Detector, I Serve the King of England, Momma's Man, The Pool, Rachel Getting Married, Shotgun Stories, Standard Operating Procedure, Stuck, Tell No One, Trannsiberian, W., Wendy and Lucy

The Screengrab's 12 Days of Christmas Marathon: "Elf"

Leonard Pierce — Mon, 22 Dec 2008 21:30:00 GMT

Hello again, and welcome back to the sixth installment of the Screengrab's trip through some beloved (and some not-so-beloved) holiday film fare, the 12 Days of Christmas Marathon. While, technically, the twelve days of Christmas extend all the way into January and culminate in Epiphany, I'm sure you'll all be too hung over by that point to be able to deal with any Christmas cheer. Plus, most of us will be back at work by January 6th, and we don't want to be the movie-blog equivalent of that one guy on your block who annoys the whole neighborhood by leaving his Christmas lights up long after the joy and wonder of the holiday has vanished. So we've got a lot of movies to get through in the next three days. Let's start with the 2003 Will Ferrell vehicle Elf, which is now general considered a canonical new-classic Xmas flick.

In the spirit of full disclosure, and to further reinforce my reputation as Bob Cratchit and Scrooge inhabiting a single body, I'll admit that, as big a sucker as I am for Christmas movies in general, I didn't think much of Elf when I first saw it in a theater. I was in a bit of a lousy mood at the time, but that doesn't alter the fact that there really is a lot to dislike here: the delicate balancing act between po-faced sincerity and winking, snarky sarcasm, for one thing, doesn't always work, and the movie's tone can come across as artificial. The pace is a bit manic, the premise is undersold, and Ferrell's performance is unneccessarily called upon to carry the entire movie, which is a shame, given that he's surrounded by tons of extremely capable actors. And Jon Favreau's direction can be charitably described as 'clunky'.

The story of Buddy, an orphan child who crawls into Santa's bag one lonely Christmas and ends up the only stranded human at the north pole, gets some early-running gags -- some predictable, others hilarious -- out of the notion of a normal child (especially one as hulking and clumsy as Ferrell) being raised among the elves. Not enough time is spent on this appealing notion, which is especially regrettable given that Buddy's father is played, in a rare screen appearance, by one of the absolute masters of awkward comedy in the person of Bob Newhart. But one of the appealing things about Elf, which becomes much more clear on repeat viewings, is how economical it is: it's constantly making a dollar out of a quarter, milking the script's gags for more than they're worth and making the most out of Ferrell's screen presence.

Indeed, I even surprised myself at how much more I liked Elf each additional time I saw it. It could be argued that I had allowed familiarity and comfort to stand in for quality, but I don't think that's necessarily the case here: a lot of the movie's strengths go beyond script and direction, and for the few wasted performances (there could have been so much more to the character of Buddy's real human father, especially when played by an actor as capable as James Caan), there's always a compensatory moment where an actor does the absolute best with what they're handed, such as Faizon Love, Ed Asner, Peter Dinklage's scene-stealing bits and Bob Newhart's determination to make even his somewhat pointless opening narration a thing of comedic beauty. And, of course, there's Zooey Deschanel, at maximum adorability.

Of course, some parts of it never get better, such as the occasional cloying moments, the overall 'off' feeling of the tonal quality, and the hammier bits of Ferrell's moon-faced performance -- whether those are the fault of the actor or the script they can be extremely grating. And Favreau's direction in his second full-length feature film never gets any better no matter how many times you watch it. But it's at least possible to watch Elf now as the work of a man who's learning his craft, not the work of a man who doesn't know or care about what he's doing. Elf will never be a great movie, or even a great holiday movie, but it's at least an appealing little Christmas tidbit, a tastly little morsel that goes down easy, and at worst, makes you feel slightly guilty that you're overindulging yourself so much on your vacation.

12 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS RATING: A respectable if undignified 7 swans-a-swimming. Its placement in the middle of the pack of my personal 12 days of Christmas marathon proved to be quite appropriate: it's neither the bottom-feeding camp-only tripe at the bottom or the transcendent art at the top, but merely a non-fattening treat to keep your energy up in the middle. Watch it in the late afternoon, unless you're an angry elf.

The Screengrab's 12 Days of Christmas Marathon: The Nightmare Before Christmas

Video of the Day: Zooey Deschanel Is Not Your Late Night Booty Call

Scott Von Doviak — Tue, 16 Dec 2008 17:00:00 GMT

Yes Man is the new Jim Carrey movie that’s a lot like old Jim Carrey movies like Liar Liar and not so much like newer Jim Carrey movies like The Number 23. You can do your own math here, but this is probably more of a good thing than a bad thing, particularly since this Jim Carrey movie has something no other Jim Carrey movie has: Zooey Deschanel. I’ve made my feelings clear on this subject, but just for the record I am in favor of this development. Since I had to see Yes Man anyway, I’m glad there were scenes with Ms. Deschanel singing humorous synth-pop songs to balance the scenes in which Mr. Carrey scotch-tapes his face into strange expressions.

Deschanel plays Carrey’s love interest Allison, whose hobbies include taking photos while jogging and singing to small audiences with her band Munchausen by Proxy. Here, for your listening and viewing enjoyment, is the full-length video for “Sweet Ballad.” Whore no more!

Sundance 2009 Non-Competition Lineup

Scott Von Doviak — Fri, 05 Dec 2008 13:00:00 GMT

Yesterday we brought you the competitive lineup set for next month’s Sundance Film Festival, and today it’s time to run down some of the notable films playing out of competition. The festival opens on January 15, 2009 with the claymation feature Mary and Max, starring Philip Seymour Hoffman and Toni Collette and narrated by Barry Humphries. It’s “the tale of two unlikely pen pals: Mary, a lonely, eight-year-old girl living in the suburbs of Melbourne, and Max, a forty-four-year old, severely obese man living in New York.”

Premieres that caught my eye include:

500 Days of Summer. “When an unlucky greeting card copywriter is dumped by his girlfriend, the hopeless romantic shifts back and forth through various periods of their 500 days 'together' in hopes of figuring out where things went wrong.” OK, maybe that doesn’t sound so promising, but Zooey Deschanel is in it and that’s worth something in my book. (That’s my book Zooey Deschanel, You Will Be Mine, coming to a bookstore near you once she lifts the restraining order.)

Brooklyn’s Finest. “After enduring vastly different career paths, three unconnected Brooklyn cops wind up at the same deadly location.” Training Day director Antoine Fuqua gets back to the nitty-gritty.

Manure. The Polish brothers present a “comic tale centered on manure salesmen in the early 1960s.” Billy Bob Thornton stars. What, you’re not intrigued?

And the Gun to My Head Award goes to Spread, starring Ashton Kutcher as a handsome young man who survives in Los Angeles by seducing wealthy older women. Why, Sundance? Why?

Documentaries of interest include James Toback’s Tyson (about the boxer, not the frozen food) and It Might Get Loud, “a history of the electric guitar from the point of view of three legendary rock musicians.” Who are they? Find out that and much more here.

All The Real Girls Is One of the Most Influential Movies of the Decade

Vadim Rizov — Mon, 24 Nov 2008 19:30:00 GMT

Over the weekend I watched All The Real Girls for the first time since it came out for a couple of reasons. One, it's been a weird year for David Gordon Green fans, watching his two weakest films (Snow Angels — with its nervy naturalism eventually undercut by an all-too-schematic doom-and-gloom plot and heavy-handed symbols straight from the worst middlebrow novels — and the pointless '80s simulacrum of Pineapple Express) come out in quick succession. Was I overrating Green based on false memories, or is he just going through a weird transitional phase? Two, I was wondering if All The Real Girls is secretly one of the most influential films of the decade.

The answers are no and yes. Sort of.

Five years down the line, All The Real Girls retains its position as one of the most visually distinctive American independent films produced. Working with immensely talented DP Tim Orr, Green sets pretty much every scene to "stun." Unfortunately, that hasn't really rubbed off on followers; as in George Washington, Green wanted to bring a new way of looking at poor regional areas to the screen, making them as gorgeous as any movie set in ostensibly pretty settings. Instead, we got the self-consciously ugly Ballast. Oh well.

All The Real Girls' true influence extends in two directions, mostly pernicious. There's the issue of score: as in George Washington, Green loves droning, post-rock guitars suffusing everything in an atmospheric haze, punctuated by the occasional indie-rock ballad (Will Oldham for the opening!). I don't recall this happening in independent films before Green, but it seems to be everywhere now (e.g. Bubble, Half Nelson). This isn't really that big a problem, though sometimes it makes movies blur together. Presumably this and the post-Juno wave of twee pop soundtracks will get into a battle to the death.

The other influence is a broader, thematic one. All The Real Girls is nothing if not embarrassingly unmediated in presenting all the soppy and jejune things young couples can say to each other when no one is listening. Sometimes this leads to emotional honesty; unfortunately, occasionally it leads to stupidly "quirky" lines like Zooey Deschanel's infamous "I had a dream that you grew a garden on a trampoline and I was so happy I invented peanut butter." This realm of affectation and self-conscious quirk in the name of emotional truth (as opposed to what it actually is: stupid, youthful self-indulgence of everything you think being interesting to other people) is, of course, directly how we got to Garden State and all its off-spring. In many respects, Zach Braff's emo template seems more than ever like an unacknowledged steal of All The Real Girls' aesthetic and proclivity for mawkishness without any of the things that made it interesting. On the bright side, as Matt Dentler once said, it also seems like a direct path to mumblecore. Unless that makes you angry too.

It's Hard Out Here For a Singer/Songwriter

Leonard Pierce — Fri, 29 Aug 2008 14:15:00 GMT

Where goeth Scarlett Johansson and Zooey Deschanel, so goeth Terrence Howard. Or so it would appear, as the Oscar-nominated star of Hustle & Flow prepares to release Shine Through It, his debut album on Columbia Records. And while it would seem unlikely that Johansson would record an album of Tom Waits covers, or that Deschanel would make a record that was actually worth listening to, so too would it seem improbable that the star whose rise to fame is inextricably linked with Three 6 Mafia would make an album of subtle, sensitive singer-songwriter tunes. And yet here we are.

In a profile in today's New York Times, Howard, whose screen reputation is largely built on playing street-smart hustlers, namechecks an unlikely set of performers as influential in the making of Shine Through It, including Paul Simon, Don McLean, and, yes, Barry Manilow. While he waxes rhapsodic about these artists, and explains why he didn't perform "It's Hard Out Here for a Pimp" at the Oscars (problems with the language, says he), Howard makes it clear that he's no fan of rap music, and that while his peers listened to funk, he existed on the deeper level of artists like Harry Chapin and Dan Fogelberg. "I grew up in the projects, but Rick James wasn't my buddy," he sniffs. "I was more sensitive than that."

Indeed, if Howard is a tad fuzzy about who, exactly, the audience is for Shine Through It, he makes no bones about who the audience isn't: black people. "My own people, black people, they've become accustomed to this hip-hop sound," he says. "If it doesn't have a driving beat, I don't know if they'll hear it right away. I think I have to go to a different crowd." NPR, here he comes!

And Now A Little Something for the Zooey Deschanel Enthusiasts

The Screengrab Highlight Reel: June 7-13, 2008

Scott Von Doviak — Fri, 13 Jun 2008 21:00:00 GMT

Guest editing this week’s Highlight Reel will be noted physicist Dr. Bruce Banner. Dr. Banner, if you could just…Dr. Banner? Is there something wrong? You look a little angry, and…what’s happening to your pants? Dr. Ban –

HULK BLOG!!!!

Hulk has new movie for puny humans to see! Also see Hulk’s old movie! It a little artsy-fartsy for Hulk, but Hulk appreciates innovative editing scheme!

Hulk think Zooey Deschanel very pretty and sings like bird!

Hulk not opposed to Liv Tyler making out with Kate Hudson!

Hulk remember stupid Jaws 2 movie and stupid Battlefield Earth movie, but Hulk not see Summer Catch with ten foot pole!

Hulk like Top 10 Empowered Girls more than Top 9 Disempowered Girls – they snap like twigs in Hulk’s embrace!

Although a big Guy Maddin fan, Hulk admits to not yet seeing My Winnipeg!

Hulk think Sam Hamm Watchmen script reductive and trite!

Hulk stomp Terence Stamp!

Hulk take Spike Lee and Clint Eastwood by necks and crash heads together like cymbals!

Hulk miss last Friday the 13th movie because puny Banner want to see revival of The Robe instead!

What’s “Happening,” Zooey Deschanel?

Scott Von Doviak — Thu, 12 Jun 2008 19:30:00 GMT

Even as a Zooey Deschanel enthusiast – that is, someone who not only owns her delightful album She & Him but also sat through her lame SciFi Channel miniseries Tin Man, in which she was kind of terrible – I’m having trouble working up any interest in seeing her in The Happening. But I’m happy to read any interviews with her on the subject, just in case she has any goofy observations about M. Night Shyamalan to offer.

Unfortunately, she doesn’t have much dirt to dish in this chat with Premiere. “I love his movies,” she says of the man called Night. “I think he's really, really talented… I think he just keeps it close, you know. And for good reason, because I think people are too curious sometimes, like they want to read the script before the movie comes out… I'm sure that feels like someone's trying to take something away from you when you're trying to entertain people and everyone's just trying to undermine the entertainment.”

As for accusations that her Happening character is ditzy – which, to be fair, is a word that comes to mind to describe more than one of her roles – Deschanel says, “If it came off that way, I think there was some subconscious way I was nudging the character, obviously, that brought it to that. I wouldn't describe her as ditzy; I think she is extremely neurotic, which maybe can come off [as ditzy] — you know, some people might describe it as ditzy, but she's neurotic and she's nervous and she's dealing with a situation that's beyond her understanding. Because even well-informed people wouldn't know how to respond to the situation.”

Of course, she has to be purposefully vague about what that situation is, as is the Shyamalan way. The Happening may be Deschanel’s first true blockbuster role, but don’t look for her to become an action hero any time soon. “It was tiring. It was a lot of running. I hurt my leg towards the end, which I didn't want to tell anybody about. I was sort of like, pretending like it didn't happen. But then the last day I was limping and Night was like, ‘What's wrong with you?!’ and I was like, ‘I can't walk!’ He was like, ‘Stop limping! What's wrong with you?’ I'm like, ‘I pulled a muscle!’ But yeah, it was a lot of running.”

Related:
And Now a Little Something for the Zooey Deschanel Enthusiasts
M. Night Shyamalan Straight Up, Hold the Twist

And Now a Little Something for the Zooey Deschanel Enthusiasts

Peter Smith — Wed, 19 Mar 2008 15:15:00 GMT

Some of us have loved Zooey Deschanel since the first ten minutes of Almost Famous. ("This song explains why I'm leaving home to become a stewardess.") But I guess if you're not into brainy, doe-eyed ingenues, this clip (of her performing with her new band She & Him at SXSW last week) won't do much for you...

Stop Smiling: Hollywood Edish

Peter Smith — Fri, 19 Oct 2007 18:00:00 GMT

Movie lovers will find a lot to enjoy in Stop Smiling 32, the "Hollywood Lost and Found" issue: interviews with Robert Towne and Robert Evans (not in the same room, thank God) and Bruce Dern, Susan Tyrrell, and Harry Dean Stanton (ditto); film scholar and Los Angeles Plays Itself director Thom Anderson and Diane Keaton offer their takes on L.A.; a Jim Hoberman essay on Sam Fuller's The Steel Helmet, illustrated with pages from Fuller's World War II notebooks; tributes to Barbara Stanwyck, Preston Sturges, Fritz Lang, Louise Brooks, Dorothy Malone, Frank Tashlin, and other worthies; and reflections on the movies by poet John Ashberry and underground comics god Kim Deitch. All this plus a photo, from 1985, of cinematographer Caleb Deschanel letting his tiny daughter, Zooey, take a look through the camera lens, that will redefine your previous conception of the term "Awwwwwwww!!" — Phil Nugent