It's Electrifying. It's Electrifying.

Jason from MNPP here -- isn't it strange, the stories that suddenly catch fire with the movie-makers and ignite dueling projects that race towards the finish line to beat the other to the eyes of the public? You've got your Volcano and Dante's Peak, you've got Deep Impact and Armageddon, and for those of you who don't see Disaster Movies as the be-all end-all of the cinematic form you've got Capote and Infamous... in which that southern writer was tossed at New York Society like a killer meteorite from outer space.

Today comes new news of another bizarre example - the the 1880s a battle over who would best monetize the invention of electricity was waged between George Westinghouse and Thomas Edison, and all of sudden, some one-hundred-and-thirty odd years later, it's all Hollywood wants to talk about.

I've been following the momentum of the movie called The Current War semi-regularly over at MNPP because a cast of handsome dudes have been attaching and un-attaching themselves from it for a few months -- as of right now the film will star Nicholas Hoult, Benedict Cumberbatch, Michael Shannon, and just today Spider-man himself Tom Holland has joined the cast. Oh and Katherine Waterston too, because I guess there needs to be a token wife character who frets at the sidelines of all the men's manly business. The Current War will be directed by Alfonso Gomez-Rejon, who made Me and Earl and the Dying Girl, and it's set to start filming next month.

Meanwhile everybody's favorite Oscar nominee Morten Tyldum is making a film called The Last Days of Night, based on a book by the same title, which tells the story from the point of view of Westinghouse's lawyer, who will be played by Eddie Redmayne. That movie is supposed to start filming in February. Do you think Benedict Cumberbatch and Morten both had their light-bulb moments (as it were) on the set of The Imitation Game, and this is some kind of secret spiteful race between the two of them? That's how I'm making entertainment out of the story for myself anyway.

TIFF: Relating to Amy Adams in "Nocturnal Animals" and "Arrival"

Nathaniel R reporting from TIFF. The festival is winding down now but my mind keeps drifting back to the Amy Adams double feature on day two. If there were gif walls featuring all of Amy Adams close-ups in both of her movies this year, they would accurately describe this critics innermost thoughts about the movies they came from. Read on and I'll elaborate (without spoilers) though we'll obviously revisit and go into more detail when both movies actually...ahem... arrive in mid November which is unofficially 'Amy Adams Month' according to distributors.

ARRIVAL (Dir. Denis Villeneuve, US)
Paramount Pictures. Opens on November 11th

In this gripping and sensationally crafted sci-fi drama, adapted from the short story "Story of Your Life" by Ted Chiang, Amy Adams plays Dr. Louise Banks. Dr Banks is a prominent linguist who is recruited by the government to attempt to communicate with extra-terrestrials. They have arrived on Earth or, rather, are hovering above it in twelve space crafts each in a separate area of the world, appearing to do nothing at all. Will the world's fearful governments nuke the ships or can Dr Banks save the world (if it's even threatened?) by learning why they've come?

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Tweetweek at the ballet with a wacky neighbor and frosted pop tarts

Two Tweets that are consuming most parts of my brain at the moment...  

I still think about how different things would be if BURLESQUE ended with 'Simple Song #3' and YOUTH ended with 'Show Me How You Burlesque'.

— Guy Lodge (@GuyLodge) August 28, 2016

Dear Anne — You sang “At The Ballet” to perfection! Besides your beautiful voice, I remember your glowing face xo B pic.twitter.com/SClszOQkHs

— Barbra Streisand (@BarbraStreisand) August 31, 2016

Babs getting verklempt over Hathaway is too camp for even me.

I mean. Between those two tweets who can we think of anything else now? Okay we'll try after the jump with tweets on tv feminism, Sully anticipation, Sally Field's range, and finding Mr Darcy...

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Yes No Maybe So: "Loving"

As far as first looks go, the La La Land trailer might have sucked all the air out of the room this week, but we also got a trailer for another Oscar hopeful: Cannes entry Loving. It left Cannes empty handed for prizes, but there was pletny of praise for the film and buzz for leading lady Ruth Negga. You can bank we'll be talking about this one before it finally arrives stateside in November all the way to the big show.

While that transfixing glimpse at Land was more a feast for the eyes and ears, the Loving trailer goes right for the heart. I know I'm higher on Jeff Nichols than most of Team Experience, so I can admit that I'm a little biased on the film already, even if I agree that his other film this year Midnight Special was his weakest. After flirting with fable and genre in his past three films, how will a more straight forward narrative work for the auteur this time?

Does the trailer make us any more or less excited? Let's break it down after the jump...

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Throw Me to the Wolves

Team Experience from the Tribeca Film Festival - here's Jason on "Wolves."

After walking out of the screening a good friend asked me incredulously what on Earth drew me, me of all people, to go see the basketball slash gambling coming-of-age drama Wolves - I'm not exactly the choice audience for sports stories. But my answer was quick and easy: Michael Shannon and Carla Gugino, of course! And as such, Wolves is worth seeing. Those two play the parents of Anthony (a solid Taylor John Smith) and if you've ever dug watching them work, here they work! Overtime!

What they have to work with is a bit, as they say, well-worn: Shannon's father figure is a gambling addict and Gugino's mama bear has been putting up with that for too long. The film (written and directed by Bart Freundlich aka Mr Julianne Moore) leans hard on those tropes, but it also stares down with honesty and heart (mostly) and the performers are excellent enough to overcome, and carve their initials on them. It all leads pretty much where you think it will, down the court on the ever counting clock, but the circuitous route's (mostly) worth traveling.

One big exception -- there's an older basketball playing gentleman called (sigh) Socrates that fits the so-called "Magical Negro" mold so rigidly it's like an unironic Mammy suddenly stumbled out of the bushes. Socrates has no reason whatsoever to go out of his way to teach this dopey kid, much less follow him around and dispense wisdom like an automaton, yet there he always is at just the right moment with no life or interests of his own save aiding Saint Anthony. Can we move past this please? Socrates' got his own shit, son.