The Link-Up

Ultra Culture "the stills photographer is here? fetch me my viewfinder at once!" HEE
Movie|Line on the weirdly surprising colors of the new EW issue featuring The Help. (More on this film right here very soon.)
Wet Asphalt "how to write a book in three days" regarding Michael Moorcock (of Elric of Melnibone fame. Weird that Hollywood's never managed to make that into a franchise)
Scott Feinberg thinks The Artist will be a good case study for Oscar. Will a silent film catch on in today's marketplace?
lemonwade doesn't mind the lack of Supes' spit curl but don't get him started on those cape pleats.
Show Blitz Game of Thrones director Brian Kirk in discussions to helm Thor 2. er... i worry about this. Thor's saving grace was its humor and Game of Thrones biggest problem as a series is its humorlessness (believe me the book has humor... admittedly of the gallows kind. But still)
Scene Stealers h-a-t-e-s on The Change-Up consider this opening bit about that trailer moment where infant poo flies at Justin Bateman's face. 

I know how Dave feels. In its opening moments “The Change-Up” took a dump in my mouth, and did not relent until the credits rolled.

Ouch. But then the film really does look terrible. Let me know if you see it and can verify.

Anomalous Material top ten movie roles Lady Gaga could have played. (I myself suspect she cannot act. But I'll hold my tongue.)
Socialite Life look i love Neil Patrick Harris but should he and David Burtka really be yachting with Elton John? Shouldn't NPH be doing penance for Beastly and The Smurfs? And by penance I mean: searching tirelessly for scripts that are actually worthy of his talent? Because, awards-show hosting aside, isn't it going to waste?

Unearned vacation! Find a good movie NPH.

Off Cinema
Daily What "Internet Filtration System" I'm lol'ing despite the fact that i've screwed this up myself in moments of speed typing. (sigh)
Tom Shone wonders if Sarah Palin is suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder. It sounds far-fetched until you actually read what he has to say. 
The Onion "Obama Turns 50 Despite Republican Opposition" hee. 

I'm loving this video called "Trim"

Trim from Petey Boy on Vimeo.

It's amazing how a change in hairstyles affects your perception about someone. People don't talk about this but that's the #1 thing that's most depressing about losing your hair -- if you're someone who is visually oriented that is -- it really cuts down on the number of ways you can modulate your own look and persona. I am my hair ♪

Judy Fest
Stirred, Straight Up With a Twist has a detailed look at The Pirate, which is one of the films I sadly missed at the current Judy Garland retrospective here in NYC. Weirdly I've never seen it despite the fact that Gene Kelly and Judy are both among my top dozen or so favorite movie stars of all time. I absolutely disagree with the comments about Gene Kelly's screen persona though since they directly contradict what I wrote in my For Me and My Gal review about his sexual allure. 
Enthusiasm has notes on the The Pirate and its camp value.
Towleroad In this week's column I wrote up a short bit about Presenting Lily Mars (1943) which is my new favorite that I hadn't yet seen from the Garland canon. Let's raise this film's profile, people. It's really funny and quite fresh. I was tempted to slap it in the face and then take it to bed like some prim but randy 40s heroine. Loved Van Heflin in it. 

Hug It Out w/ Busy Phillips

Congratulations to Friend of The Film Experience Joe Reid (Low Resolution), who you've heard on many an Oscar podcast here, for this magical event.

 

Joe is always singing the praises of actress Busy Phillips (who shoulda been an Emmy nominee for Cougar Town and was also super on Freaks & Geeks back in the day) and he did it on a podcast and... wowee... he got hugged!

Here's what happened.

Do you deserve a hug from your favorite celebrity? If so, who and why!?

R.I.P. Cha Cha

Raise your arms. Wave goodbye to Annette Charles aka Annette Cardona aka Cha Cha DiGregorio, "the best dancer at St. Bernadettes!" The former actress turned speech professor died Wednesday at the age of 63 of cancer. Strange that her death so closely followed Jeff Conaway's (Kenickie), her date to Grease's big "Born to Hand Jive" high school dance.

Her brief acting career consisted mostly of guest spots on 70s TV shows and two feature films but everyone associated with Grease (1978) will live on forever in the hearts of millions. Grease is still the word.

[Related: Here's a fine article from Clothes on Film on her Amazonian presence in Grease.]

Cinema de Gym: Forrest Gump

Kurt here. On the day Forrest Gump was playing at my gym, it seemed only right that I swap out the elliptical for the treadmill: Run, cinephile! RUN!! In truth, part of me wanted to run right out of the building (this is a behemoth of a movie to chip away at with my modest column). But, I stuck it out, and I tip my hat to the gym's programmers, as I've never been so inspired to burn off as many calories as possible.
Forrest Gump tends to have that effect on people, ever since it ran away with every trophy in sight at the end of 1994. It's a you-can-do-it movie, through and through, with Forrest boasting Oprah-level propulsion – too busy to look back for more than a brief glance. The film itself doesn't wow so greatly the smaller it gets in the rearview, no matter how large it looms on the marquee and no matter how well it urges one to keep up with its star runner. Such is the plight of the overhyped phenomenon.
I like Forrest Gump just fine, but I think it works better as a capsule of Americana than as a movie. And, of course, to be a capsule of Americana is a big part of its aim. It's essentially 141 minutes of milestones and iconography, landmark moments and famous faces. Its underdog-rewrites-history conceit is a good one, always teetering on the edge of magical realism but too awash in actual events to truly show it. That vicious, wonderful – and very viral – review of Transformers: Dark of the Moon stuck it to Gump for being the evil initiator of archival footage manipulation, but it's hard not to find charm in the film's grainy tour of suddenly resurrected legends (JFK, John Lennon), however buffoonish the tour guide may be. I think my personal favorite thing about the film – if I may be so broad – is its sociopolitical Vietnam-era backdrop, which multiple films have since tried and failed to depict with the same buzzing cultural potency (ahem, Across the Universe, ahem). It's what pumps awesome power into Forrest and Jenny's Washington Monument reunion, surely one of the most iconic hugs in contemporary cinema. It's not strength of narrative, but strength of context that gives you butterflies – a movement and an era defined in an embrace. 

Hug it Out

And that's just one moment.
In its tireless forward motion, Forrest Gump, covers an awful lot of ground, each episode another page in the history book. So nimble is its pace that to tell you what I saw during my quick workout is to offer you a clip reel: the rise of the ping pong master, the boiling resentment of a legless Lieutenant Dan, the newsreel mooning of LBJ, the breaking up of the Black Panther “party” and, of course, that lovely aforementioned hug. All scenes that, appropriately, have now found their own places in the pages of history. However you feel about Forrest Gump, few films have so firmly cemented themselves into popular conversation, achieved such immortal quotability, and made themselves known to what seems like every adult media consumer. As I write this, I'm in a house with a ping pong table in the basement. Is it possible to play the game without thinking of a rubber-limbed Tom Hanks? Is it possible to open a box of chocolates without envisioning Sally Field, or a white bench in Savannah, Georgia? 

It was nice to revisit this movie after the major Hanks misfire of Larry Crowne, which won't put a dent in the smiley star's career, but surely bruised his credibility as a filmmaker. There will be no higher peak for Hanks than Forrest Gump, no better instance of his massively, uniquely beloved everyman/leading man persona. I wonder if he knew this when he was making the press rounds with Robert Zemeckis and Robin Wright, or when he collected his Oscar – that this was it, the summit, the key page in his history. I wonder if he wanted to stop and freeze instead of just keep running. 

Conclusions?

1. See above.
2. Movies about running are even better motivators than Matthew McConnaughey's abs. (Should I recommend Prefontaine to the gym programmers?)
3. Admittedly, the whole “box of chocolates” thing is pretty counterproductive here.
4. Qualms aside, Forrest Gump is something of treasure.  

What do you think of the film? Despite everything, it's surprisingly divisive, especially given the whole Pulp Fiction / Shawshank Redemption Best Pic defeat. 

Two Ladies: Margaret and Catwoman

beedle-dee-deedle-dee-dee ♬

Margaret. Last night I was having a conversation with a reader and he asked me if I thought that Margaret, that long-delayed Kenneth Lonergan film about a traumatized young Manhattanite (Anna Paquin) was going to have any impact on the Oscar Race. I told him I'd been answering that question annually for the past five years. Each year the question feels weirder and weirder. If you're new to movie fanaticism, here's a good rundown of the timeline and the things that went wrong in getting the movie into theaters. 

Here's Matt Damon and Anna Paquin on set... in... wait for it... 2005. Matt was still a thirtysomething and Anna wasn't yet SOOKIIIIIIEEE. 

on the set of Margaret

As to the Oscar question, truthfully I care not a smidgeon. I just want to see it. It's been drifting, transparent, like a ghost in our peripheral vision for years. I don't even what to see a critic's screening. I want to buy a ticket, sit in the theater holding it, come home and frame it with the inscription:

THIS REALLY HAPPENED!"

The press release I received yesterday morning said September 30th but until the day I'm holding that ticket stub it will remain an ectoplasmic dream.

Catwoman. The Dark Knight Rises has released its second official character image (the first was of Tom Hardy's hunched back) and it's Our Miss Hathaway as Cyclops Catwoman riding a very Nolan-esque wild hog. He sure likes those dunebuggy big wheels. 

I love Hathaway. I love Catwoman. But my inner child is not okay with either of them stealing Batgirl's motorycle mojo, you know?

I had...uh... this friend... yeah, a friend... who used to pretend to be Batgirl while riding on the back of his dad's motorcycle. This...uh... friend was smart enough to not share this fantasy out loud with my dad his dad but it was a pretty regular occurence. Like, every time he hopped on the motorcycle!

Don't judge.

und i'm the only man. ja ♬