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2010 Academy Awards recap

March 8th, 2010 by Scott Marks

Warning: To avoid danger of suffocation, keep plastic bags away from babies, children and Oscar.

The red carpet “Frankenstein” shot (start on the feet and pan up) of Gabby Sidibe was worthy of Whale.

Oddest married couple’s hair of the evening: Sarah Jessica Parker has a challah growing on the back of her head and Matthew Broderick’s hair seems to have been done by the same stylist who aged James Dean in “Giant.”

Christoph Waltz looks naked without an armband.

Everyone on the red carpet kept asking Gabby Sidibe what her next role will be. If she doesn’t win the Oscar it’s straight to Jenny Craig commercials.

Did Kathy Ireland say that Miley Cyrus has “mastered comedy” and Gabby Sidibe “turned your genius into a dream come true?” I need to study her every thought.

“Drop the soap” and Dolly Parton jokes in Neil Patrick Harris’ opening number. It’s going to be a long night.

Meryl Streep’s Hitler memorabilia? A “Precious” video game? Putting on 3-D glasses to see James Cameron? Encouraging Christoph Waltz to ethnically cleanse the audience? Steve Martin and Alec Baldwin’s starstruck opening monologue was one of the funniest in Oscar history.

What’s with the effing 1.85 and/or full frame clips from ‘Scope movies?

George Harvey is a piker compared to Col. Hans Landa. We salute the Academy for honoring Oberführer Waltz!!! A brilliantly crafted acceptance speech. None of that “I want to thank…” nonsense. He told a story.

I know that times are tough, but who knew that Harvey Weinstein couldn’t afford a razor.

Was Ryan Reynolds doing his Rod Serling impression?

The new footage created for the Best Animated Feature segment was uniformly terrific.

No more suffering through the endless Best Song nominees. So far the streamlining is paying off.

“The Hurt Locker” is a better screenplay for a war movie than “Inglourious Basterds?”

Time to take a dump. It’s a tribute to John Hughes. In life, the Academy wouldn’t give Hughes the time of day. I didn’t see a tribute to Russ Meyer when he kicked. What effing hypocrites! The clip reel, particularly the pathos-laden section, brought it all back.

“Logorama” beat out Wallace & Gromit? Now that’s a major upset.

Douche Chills Central: Roger Ross Williams not waiting for Elinor Burkett to get to the stage to mutually accept the award for “Music for Prudence.” She looks like she’d be a delight to work with on the set.

Ben Stiller is a ja*off.

I forgot that “Il Divo” received a nomination. Lot of good it did the film.

Forget the dry look. Michael Stuhlbarg looks better in character.

Kudos to the genius who decided to include a clip from the fried chicken sequence in “Precious.”

Uh-oh. “Precious” won best screenplay.

Roger Corman, Gordon Willis and Lauren Bacall (you can keep John Calley) don’t get to speak at the ceremony, but they waste time honoring John Hughes!??!

I’m still shocked that Mo’Nique beat out Anna Kendrick.

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Filed Under Rants

Review: MALICE / Harold Becker (1993)

November 19th, 2008 by Scott Marks

Malice (1993)
Directed by Harold Becker
Written by Aaron Sorkin and Scott Frank from a story by Sorkin and Jonas McCord
Starring: Alec Baldwin, Nicole Kidman, Bill Pullman, Bebe Neuwirth, Peter Gallagher, Tobin Bell, Gwyneth Paltrow as a victim with Special Guest Stars Anne Bancroft and George C. Scott
Photographed by Gordon Willis
Aspect Ratio: 1.85:1
Running Time: 107 min.

Rating: ★☆☆☆☆

Wanna’ buy a LaserDisc?

Malice starts out poorly and quickly disintegrates into something much worse. It’s a stock thriller plot, interpreted by a pedigreed cast, hack screenwriter and lethargic director. Slow and simplistic for its first hour, the bottom third files faster than calendar pages in a Sirk montage.

The placid lives of pussy whipped Professor Bill Pullman and his way-too hot teacher wife Nicole Kidman derail when a dark friend from the past, Alec Baldwin, appears. A chance meeting leads to a roommate situation which affords Dr. Baldwin the opportunity of professionally manhandling his friend’s naked wife. Don’t worry, they’re both in on it.

Gordon Willis’ exposures are as dim as the dialogue, in stark contrast to the overwritten plot that packs more points than a season of episodic TV. Willis must have spent years studying faded Metrocolor prints in order to develop his look. The cinematographer’s patented muted mahogany, contrast-free tones defined many a great movie, while compromising a great many more. Not unlike exalted DP Sven Nykvist, whose dark frames are also instantly identifiable, when applied to other projects, their styles seem out of place and redundant.

Exposition that could have been dispensed in 3 minutes takes up the first reel, but the laughs start coming at a quickening pace. Dripping in Kidman’s blood, Baldwin bursts into the doctor, patient conference room and overtakes Pullman with the bad news: They’re under the gun and Baldwin wants to remove his wife’s remaining ovary. The good doctor pauses before whispering the obvious: She’ll never be able to have children. Even with the worst HMO on the planet you would think Pullman would demand a second opinion on the spot. Baldwin’s conduct is not befitting a great surgeon, especially a hot shot whose first day on the job established and cemented his reputation by saving a rape victim’s life.

There’s a red herring serial rapist thrown in to divert attention. Luckily Pullman’s desk lamp blows just in time to advance the story. A trek for a replacement bulb uncovers a youthful Tobin Bell. I can look at this guy for hours. His overall quiet, unsettling demeanor makes him a prime candidate to play people you don’t want to know. Another top talent, Bebe Neuwirth appears as the obligatory female cop/possible former girlfriend/friend from the neighborhood/secondary love interest waiting in the wings.

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