Sarasota Film Festival announces 2008 lineup

Now 10 years old, the Sarasota Film Festival is one of the most respected in the U.S. I've had a lot of great times there, from interviewing the late director Robert Altman to pissing off Oscar winning screenwriter Robert Towne, from meeting Joe Bob Briggs to sharing smokes with Justin Long (the Mac guy, Dodgeball, Live Free or Die Hard) and Alan Tudyk (Dodgeball, Death at a Funeral) before anyone knew who they are. You don't want to know what I saw Joe Pantoliano doing last year.

This year's edition -- running April 4-13 -- looks like the Sarasota folks aren't through building their reputation. The lineup includes sidebar tribute to Israel@60: The Diaspora and Beyond, the late Ingmar Bergman and his favorite star, Liv Ullmann, a career achievement fete for Stanley Tucci (I have to talk to him about The Imposters, one of the sorely underrated films of the past few years). Tucci will be introduced by Steve Buscemi, who as we all know from Reservoir Dogs doesn't tip.

Oscar winner Charlize Theron will also be honored on closing night, along with producer Ted Hope (In the Bedroom, The Savages).

We'll also have a chance to see The Deal, an inside-Hollywood satire co-produced by festival director Jody Kielbasa with frequent Sarasota visitor William H. Macy, who stars. That's the opening night offering; Macy, co-stars Meg Ryan and LL Cool J are listed as maybes to attend.

We'll see the Oscar-nominated foreign film Mongol, Oscar winner Helen Hunt's directorial debut, Then She Found Me. And that's just skimming the surface of the offerings.

There are events aimed squarely at children, student filmaking and too many chances for celebrity brushes to list. Oh yeah: Sarasota throws down some great parties, too.

Check out the festival Web site for information and ticket sales. It's an hour or so drive that'll take you worlds away.

Gasparilla goes Kabluey

What a terrific start to the second annual Gasparilla Film Festival last night. Around 800 people crammed into Tampa Theatre for the opening night shindig featuring Kabluey, a very good comedy written and directed by its star, Scott Prendergast, and produced by Berkeley Prep and Harvard graduate Jeff Balis.

Funny, the word "kabluey" came to mind a year ago when the Gasparilla festival never really got off the ground last year. Last night, I told executive director John Rosser -- hired for the salvaging job after last year's disappointment -- that he's the MVP in an impressive comeback story.

Rosser and president Eric Odum told me that online tickets sales for the festival -- running through Sunday with most screenings at Channelside Cinemas --- have already doubled last year's attendance.
That's what happens with a more attractive film lineup, a touch of stardust and a smartly executed marketing scheme. I have a gut feeling this festival is here to stay.

I also have a feeling Kabluey will return this summer. At least that's the timetable Sony Pictures Entertainment mentioned to Balis, who's pushing for a hometown engagement whenever. The Gasparilla folks had a rare chance Wednesday to make a second first impression. Choosing Kabluey was a wise decision.

Kabluey follows a slack-jawed slacker named Salman (Prendergast) as he attempts to help his sister-in-law (another solid Lisa Kudrow performance) take care of two hellion sons while his brother serves in Iraq. Salman takes a job at her failing computer company, passing around leaflets while hilariously dressed as a corporate mascot.

The comedy ranges from broad (those kids could bring spanking back in style) to wonderfully absurd -- the corporate mascot costume Salman wears leads to visual gags reminiscent of the Coen brothers at their zaniest. Kabluey veers from slapstick to drama and never too far either way. I was expecting a so-so effort and came away thinking this is my favorite new movie in an admittedly young movie year.

The good feelings carried over to a Sangria-fueled gathering at nearby Spain restaurant, which is really only the size of Portugal in a relative sense. Chatted up some folks including Balis' former Berkeley Prep teacher and enduring mentor Kathi Grau , known to Gasparilla parade watchers as the flamboyant Mama Guava. Kathi has led the procession for 22 years, so larger than life that she surprised me by being so short.

The festival continues today at Channelside at 5 p.m. with Autism: The Musical, followed by a collection of short films, a documentary about comedian Judy Toll, the first of the fest's Latin Panorama selections and the 70's sexual revolution satire Viva.

Friday night, the theater vwill be jammed with Florida State University football fans when the Bobby Bowden profile The Good Fight is shown. Times sportswriter Brian Landman published an interesting interview with director George Butler today.

Check out today's Weekend section for a festival preview. Tomorrow's Floridian includes my interview with Blood Feast creator Herschell Gordon Lewis in advance of Saturday night's 45th anniversary screening where I'll be conducting  a Q&A with him and producer David F. Friedman. You'll also find an interview with closing night honoree Brittany Snow (Hairspray), like Balis another hometown product made good.

 

Sunscreen Film Festival schedule is announced

Sunscreen Film Festival Executive Director Tony Armer announced in a recent news release that the schedule for the March 19-22 event has been posted on the festival's website.

Armer said that this is the biggest festival to date with 73 films being screened.

I'm looking forward to Raiders of the Lost Ark: The Adaptation, a remake of Indiana Jones' first adventure started by three Mississippi boys ages 11, 12, and 13, and finally finished seven years later. Spielberg himself loved it, and now Sunscreen audiences have a chance to see why.

More from the Sunscreen news release: The festival will show 15 films made in Florida and five others by Floridians now working out of the state.

There are two workshops -- on screenwriting and auditioning actors -- on the schedule.

Screenwriters will have the opportunity to get some pointers from an impressive panel of experts: action flick writer, Steven DeSouza (Commando, Die Hard), author Karl Iglesias (The 101 Habits of Highly Successful Screenwriters and Writing for Emotional Impact), and academy award nominee Timothy J. Sexton (Children of Men). The 90-minute symposium takes place Friday, March 21 at 4 pm, free to the general public.

Read more at the festival Web site linked above.

The Susan Lucci of Academy Awards

Just one final Oscars story, and I don't even have the oomph to write it. But it's a nice one.

Kevin O'Connell isn't a household name but he's a sound mixer who was at the Kodak Theatre Sunday night with his 20th Academy Award nomination, this one for Transformers. T-w-e-n-t-y.

How many Oscars does Mr. O'Connell have on his mantle? Zero. Z-e-r-o.

Is he bitter? Not at all, for a very nice reason that Ray Richmond of the Hollywood Reporter posted today on his blog. Check it out then tell me you won't be pulling for this guy next year.

Oscar morning hangover

Just got in from Elton John's post-Oscar party and, boy, are my lips tired.

Wanted to thank everyone for stopping by last night. Sorry I wasn't a better host but the cupcakes were burning, if you know what I mean. I haven't had that many blog visitors since the test results came back positive, or ever since the doctor told me the results weren't mine.

Thanks to Daly and Spears -- a good firm if you need your taxes done -- for keeping the fire kindled while I steamed. Sorry to everyone in the office for that. You know how temperamental we artistes can be.

Banged out an Oscar autopsy column for tomorrow. Here's a sampling, after which I'll be knocking out a Gasparilla Film Festival advance, an interview with opening night film producer Jeff Balis and an interview with Blood Feast creator Herschell Gordon Lewis that was the most fun I've had on the phone since Princess Di blocked 900 numbers.

Enjoy, and thanks again.

Choosing Marion Cotillard as best actress reinforced a recently noticeable Oscar voting codicil: lovely young women ditching all vanity to play unattractive characters deserve Oscar gold.

Without wearing a severe fake nose, Nicole Kidman (The Hours) wouldn’t have an Academy Award. Charlize Theron (Monster) plumped into serial killer Aileen Wuornos to win. Hilary Swank posed as extreme tomboys in Boys Don’t Cry and Million Dollar Baby to get the academy’s attention. Renee Zellweger (Cold Mountain) won by channeling Grizzly Adams.

That trend is becoming nearly as fool-proof for winners as playing mentally and physically challenged characters. Cotillard had both factors in her favor.

In case you didn’t notice, Cotillard is a stunningly beautiful woman with an ooh-la-la accent that could charm the killer in No Country for Old Men. Her role model, singer Edith Piaf, was a withering hag with a memorable voice. Makeup artists who won Oscars for transforming Cotillard into a convincing crone deserve lifetime achievement awards.

The academy cheers when such attractive women dial it down for their art.

But that still doesn't explain Tilda Swinton's best supporting actress win for Michael Clayton.

It's Oscar Night! Let the Snark Begin...

Hey Movie Fans!!! Are you eating as much junkfood as we are? Did you spit nachos across the room at all of Lisa Rinna's dumb red-carpet questions? Perhaps you saw Ryan Seacrest flick his sweat?

A host of celebrities are gathered in the office -- Sean Daly, Sharon Fink, Princess Di and, of course, yours truly -- ready to talk nasty at the screen.

So come join us for Oscar Night! 'Cause you can't look away...

Oscar Day-Lewis humor from Saturday Night Live

I didn't realize that Saturday Night Live came back last night, and Tina Fey (yea!) was hosting. You can watch the best sketches on nbc.com, so I'm making do.

You need to check out this spoof on the site of There Will Be Blood and No Country for Old Men, funneled through a show on the Food Network ("porn for fat people," the slogan goes).

It'll slurp your sundae.

Wakin' up like it's Christmas morning

Merry Oscars to you! Can't wait to see who gushes, who blushes and who flushes their careers down the toilet tonight. Hopefully it won't be me, dealing with working the event outside my comfort zone (i.e. at the office rather than at home or in L.A.)

We'll have a live blog rolling here, thanks to Sean Daly and Princess Di. I understand *The Joose (my more polite nickname for it) is also joining in. You can never have enough snark at times like these.

Like the picture? That's me with less weight and more hair 10 years ago in the fan stands at the Shrine Auditorium. The tux was rented but mandatory for media Joes, while the Josephines had to wear evening gowns. Cross-dressing wasn't as big back then. I was visiting Princess Di and her new friends made during their overnight wait in the bleachers -- Di's second time doing that. They couldn't leave after entry 36 hours in advance, so I'd use my media credentials to sneak in snacks and fresh undies, after a comfy night sleeping in a hotel room and Pina Coladas at Trader Vic's.

Of course, the whole process changed after 9/11, so that slumber party atmosphere is gone.

The Academy Awards have been my Christmas since 1968, the first time I really paid attention to them at age 11. (Well, there was that Mary Poppins year a few before but I fell asleep.) My dad had a drive-in in Alabama and each year he and the other theaters' managers would meet for breakfast and decide which best picture nominee they would book for the weekend, hoping to pick the winner and reap the ticket sales.

Everybody else was jumping on The Graduate, Bonnie and Clyde and Guess Who's Coming to Dinner. Nobody believed in Doctor Doolittle, with good reason. My dad wanted In the Heat of the Night for reasons he can still count down for you. Of course, he won that "bet," and I was a proud kid that he did.

Fast-forward 25 years or so and I'm in L.A. at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion for my first of four Oscars visits. I knew it was going to be cool when I opened the back door where media was supposed to enter and Bruce Springsteen walked out after rehearsing Streets of Philadelphia, that night's best song winner. He thanked me for holding the door open.

By the end of the evening I had learned that a.) you shouldn't ask a serious question of a prepubescent Oscar winner like Anna Paquin, b.) Tommy Lee Jones really is that grouchy, and c.) always hit the restroom as soon as you can after the last envelope is opened. I was a couple urinals away from Harrison Ford, who said "Jesus, four hours without a drink," and Clint Eastwood, who replied: "Yeah." I don't think they washed their hands on the way out.

I still have one of Wolfgang Puck's gold-chocolate Oscars in the freezer but it turned green. I have all four access badges and a still-sealed bottle of official Academy Awards purified water from the 67th year. I have bootleg t-shirts sold by street vendors with lettering that started rubbing off before the show ended. I have that Jack Nicholson story I told on Spears' podcast last week. I have a swag bag of Oscar memories, in person or just as a not-so-innocent onlooker.

Tonight I get to open another present around my loved one and friends at work and on this blog. Hope you'll join in.

Juno has the Spirit

This is one doodle that can't be un-did: Juno won the Film Independent Spirit Award for best film of 2007 at Saturday's ceremony on Santa Monica beach.

Read the results, courtesy of Hollywood Reporter, by clicking here.

See you Sunday night.

Lindsay Lohan gets Razzed to a record

Lindsay Lohan's I Know Who Killed Me set a new Golden Raspberry Awards record Saturday, "winning" eight Razzies that are presented -- but usually not accepted -- by creators of the worst films of the year. John Wilson and his crew have done this for 28 years and I'm glad to be on the ballot mailing ist.

Lohan was named worst actress in a tie with herself, playing a dual personality stripper/student searching for who may or may not have killed her, in a movie whose title claims she does know. Lohan also won the Razzie for worst screen couple. I Know Who Killed Me was dishonored as 2007's worst remake ("of Hostel, Saw and The Patty Duke Show.")

Norbit was voted three Razzies, all for Eddie Murphy as worst actor, supporting actor and actress in another of his latex-driven roles.

Spirit Awards semi-live blog now!

If anyone's out there and interested: I'll post here with some comments along the way.

Sorry I'm late. After a Cracker Barrel breakfast (what's up with the hash browns?) and a Dillard's gift card (thanks Mom)  shopping spree to get something to wear in  comfort Oscar night, I took Mojo to get his shots and ran into Anne Murray ("Spread your tiny wings and fly away") who did a show at Ruth Eckerd and was unwinding. She likes her shots as much as Mojo.

No, just kidding. I'm just late.

Let's see what's happening on 10-minute TiVo.

Spirit and Razzie Awards are today!

It's too bad that the Oscars hog everyone's attention this time of year. Traditionally, the days before the academy's shindig, two other -- and more fun -- awards shows happen in SoCal.

The Film Independent Spirit Awards honor the best in often-overlooked (by audiences, at least) cinema. This year's best feature nominees include Juno, The Diving Bell and the Butterfly and I'm Not There -- three of my top-10 picks for 2007. You can find a complete listing of nominees on the festival's Web site.

It's a loosey-goosey affair held in a circus tent on Santa Monica beach, with a media area featuring an open bar (always nice for journailsts) and pool tables (even better). This year's host is Rainn Wilson, a severely twisted guy, I understand. he can't be any bawdier than John Waters and Sarah Silverman, who brought the house down before. You should really check out the live, uncensored broadcast starting at 5 p.m. today on IFC channel. The edited version later isn't bad but this thing gets wild, and also very smart about what movies should be about.

The Golden Raspberry Awards aren't televised, and that's a shame. The Razzies are a shoestring budget  "tribute" to the worst movies of the year. Cleverly written with some hilarious categories and nominees, the Razzies are a great party. This year's leading nominee is Lindsay Lohan's I Know Who Killed Me, trailed closely by Norbit and I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry. These Razzies folks take no prisoners.

I've been there twice, seeing Paul Verhoeven bravely attend to pick up a bundle of Razzies for Showgirls at one of them. Actually, I did the Spirit-Razzies double feature twice, with plenty of fond memories (except for crosstown traffic). Check back during the telecast and let me know what you think during today's event.

And don't forget to come back Sunday night when Princess Di and Sean Daly help me blog live during the Oscars.

Pray for my pal, Dick Fletcher

I have been doing the weekly thing at WTSP-Ch. 10 for nearly six years now. It seems like every time I went to the studio, weatherman Dick Fletcher would be there waiting with another off-color joke. He'd sidle up to me as if sharing state secrets, pop out something the human resources folks shouldn't hear and we'd laugh like schoolboys who just pinned a "kick me" sign on the teacher's back.

Dick suffered a stroke last Monday, his second one and things don't appear promising. He isn't taking visitors except for family but we're keeping up with his situation here. You can also post a comment at the station's site on that link.

Things weren't the same at Ch. 10 Thursday when I was there and "Fletch" wasn't.

Florida Film Fest announces lineup

Enzian Theater near Orlando announced its lineup of films for the 17th annual Florida Film Festival, March 28 through April 6.

Two world premieres and seven East Coast premieres -- although at least one of those claims is debatable -- were selected. They apparently don't know that Kabluey is the Gasparilla Film Festival's opening night selection, a month ahead of the Florida Film Festival's plan.

Twenty films will be eligible for up to 3 awards each; a Grand Jury award for best film in that category, a Special Jury award and an Audience award determined by audience votes.

Information about the lineup is available at www.Enzian.org/FFF . Here's how the list looks in a news release, including the "southeast premiere" for Kabluey:

The feature film list includes: AUGUST EVENING - Southeast Premiere (Directed By Chris Eska) BLACKBIRD - Southeast Premiere (Directed by Adam Rapp) THE CAKE EATERS (Directed by Mary Stuart Masterson) DISFIGURED – Southeast Premiere (Directed by Glenn Gers) GOLIATH - East Coast Premiere (Directed by David Zellner) IN SEARCH OF A MIDNIGHT KISS - Southeast Premiere (Directed by Alex Holdridge) KABLUEY - Southeast Premiere (Directed by Scott Prendergast) LOVELY BY SURPRISE - East Coast Premiere (Directed by Kirt Gunn) RAINBOW AROUND THE SUN - East Coast Premiere (Directed by Kevin Ely & Beau J. Leland) WERE THE WORLD MINE – World Premiere (Directed by Tom Gustafson)

Documentary entries include: FISH KILL FLEA - Florida Premiere (Directed by Aaron Hillis, Brian Cassidy & Jennifer Loeber) I THINK WE’RE ALONE NOW - East Coast Premiere (Directed by Sean Donnelly) INTIMIDAD - East Coast Premiere / 2 nd U.S. Showing (Directed by David Redmon & Ashley Sabin) LAND OF CONFUSION - World Premiere (Directed by Jeremy Zerechak) LOST IN WOONSOCKET (Directed by John Chester) OPERATION FILMMAKER - Southeast Premiere (Directed by Nina Davenport) PAGEANT - East Coast Premiere (Directed by Ron Davis & Stewart Halpern) SPINE TINGLER! THE WILLIAM CASTLE STORY - Southeast Premiere (Directed by Jeffrey Schwarz) WESLEY WILLIS’S JOYRIDES - East Coast Premiere (Directed by Chris Bagley & Kim Shively) WILL EISNER: PORTRAIT OF A SEQUENTIAL ARTIST - Southeast Premiere (Directed by Andrew D. Cooke)

I drink your milkshake, home skillet

No, Daniel Day-Lewis isn't threatening Juno McGuff. I've just been concentrating on this year's Oscar nominated screenplays for tomorrow's Weekend spread and they're starting to run together in my head.

For the first time in Academy Awards history, writers will be the stars of Sunday night’s telecast. Without them, the show wouldn’t go on. Neither would the movies.

The writers strike is over, the Oscars will proceed. More importantly, the cinematic process has resumed in Hollywood. Nobody can believe anymore that “it all starts on the page” is just an acceptance speech cliché.

It isn’t coincidence that all five of this year’s best picture nominees are also finalists in the adapted or original screenplay races. The two categories regularly go hand-in-hand. Only four of 45 best picture nominees this decade didn’t also have screenplay nods: Ray, Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World, The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers and Moulin Rouge.

In this Oscar year of the writer we’ll highlight all 10 nominated screenplays in Weekend, with background and excerpts of their quality.

Wonder what Michael Clayton would say to those twits in Atonement?

Christina Ricci is a pig...

... or at least has the snout and ears of one in Penelope, an odd, vaguely adorable flick Princess Di and I caught last night.

Ricci plays a young woman under a centuries-old curse that gave her porcine facial features. She's still cute as a button, and much less rough around the edges than in Black Snake Moan. Her parents (Catherine O'Hara is over the top as her mom) locked her away to prevent public humiliation. Only the love of a "blueblood" can reverse the curse but suitors run for the hills when they see her face.

Except for one guy played by James McAvoy (Atonement) who is working with a sleazy photographer (I'll watch  The Station Agent's Peter Dinklage in anything) to get a tabloid shot of Penelope. The movie is an uneasy mix of fairy tale tones and fairly mature themes but has a sweet heart and personality.

Penelope also adds to the growing list of movies (Vantage Point, Charlie Bartlett included) shelved for a long time and now being released in the dead of winter when Oscar contenders are still top priorities for studios and distributors. This one started filming back in January, 2006, showed at Toronto's film festival later that year then disappeared. Maybe it's the Juno effect with a little Enchanted momentum helping this one's release (or escape).

Penelope opens Feb. 29 and a review will be published the previous day in Weekend.

Disad-Vantage Point

Vantage Point shows a terrorist attack from eight points of view, with maybe four that are necessary. The others simply pad Pete Travis’ movie to a respectable running time.

Clocking in at 90 minutes (counting end credits), Vantage Point feels like an episode of 24 with a rewinding clock. There is admirable tension, as any film these days including graphic terrorism can provide. There’s even a slam-bang, old school car chase to quicken pulses.

What Vantage Point doesn’t have is a consistent accumulation of suspense. The first time through the attack is gripping: a summit of world leaders in Spain to decry terrorism that is bombed, right after the U.S. president (William Hurt) is shot by a sniper.

Dennis Quaid as a Secret Service agent does the Harrison Ford thing to nice effect, all grimaces and terse line readings. Hurt steps away from his more interesting recent tact of hamming up material needing it. Forest Whitaker hadn’t earned his Oscar yet when Vantage Point was filmed in 2006, so the role of a camera-toting tourist and his portrayal aren’t worthy of his current stature. I’ll bet he’d like to hit the rewind button on this project.

Vantage Point opens Friday. Check the complete review and our Oscars preview in Thursday's Weekend.

A Flash of Green gets a rare screening

Most folks think of Sunshine State or Cocoon when naming a Florida-themed movie. Old schoolers may go back to The Cocoanuts with the Marx Brothers, that still works today with its spoofing of our state's growing pains.

One that has been overlooked is A Flash of Green, based on John McDonald's novel of corrupt Florida developers, politicians in bed with them and a reporter (Ed Harris) sorting it out. It was a PBS production in 1986 that was good enough to get a bit of a theatrical release. Like a lot of fine movies, the box office wasn't there.

Nobody knows Florida and conveys it clearer on screen than Victor Nunez (Ruby in Paradise, Ulee's Gold). A Flash of Green is as good as either of those movies but isn't even available on DVD, which is about as obscure as it gets these days.

Roberta Whipple from the St. Pete Beach Library, in conjunction with the Florida Humanities Council, is bringing A Flash of Green in a where-did-they-get-it print to the Beach Theatre, Monday morning at 11 a.m. Best of all, it's free of charge and producer Sam Gowan will lead a panel discussion. Nunez planned to attend but has a directing gig that popped up.

Check it out.

Hear ye! Hear ye! Oscars podcast is on!

Stuck in the 80's guru Steve Spears is stuck with me in this week's podcast, available by clicking here or through some kind of iPod contraption that the kids like these days. I was sitting in for Sean Daly during his paternity leave (which worked out better than the paternity suit a few years ago).

We had a great time going through his fave decade's Oscar winners, from Ordinary People to Driving Miss Daisy, and giving props to movies like Raging Bull and Raiders of the Lost Ark that should've won. I also get to tell my favorite Jack Nicholson story from the Oscars.

I had so much fun, I'm hoping Daly procreates again soon.

Raider of someone else's blog

Gotta get this to you, but only Spears knows how in such a great fashion:

The first preview trailer for Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull is online.  I think my recent prediction that it'll be the No. 1 movie (box office-wise) of 2008 looks pretty solid.

Check it out.

Notes from the not-far-enough underground

Hoo, baby, what a week. It's always that way as the Oscars approach and a bunch of pre-show stuff needs to be created, because that's when everyone wants to plan and promote their favorite film festival, or plug some other endeavor, or release a rash of movies that won't matter by March.

Toss in my round of Florida hazard insurance hassles, home equity bargaining and Mom's birthday (with Princess Di's coming Sunday) and you see why I've been out of touch.

Of course, anyone who knows me knows I'm happiest when I'm busy. This week, I've been positively ecstatic. Just ask everyone. Yeah, right.

Now it's Friday and I only have one 10 a.m. screening of Vantage Point and three reviews to take care of. It's also Third Friday in Safety Harbor, which means tonight I'll be seated by a fire pit at Heather's Place downtown, slurping sangria and shrimp with Princess Di and Mojo. Every day is Valentines Day with those two around.

Shameless plugs: You must see next Thursday's Weekend section when our Oscars preview will be published. We've always done it the day of the show but I thought I'd give Oscar office pool players the full benefit of my expertise with a head start. Don't want to spoil the angle because the competition might pull out a wire story with a similar theme and call that matching coverage.

But thanks to our crack design team -- or are those designers on crack? -- plus an editor far too easily impressed sometimes, and me, of course, we have a cool package coming in Weekend. Actually, you can get an early Oscar buzz Monday when page 1A features my "5 questions feature" on the subject. Those Q&A things usually focus on comparable issues like, oh, war, famine, recession, casino gambling, those kinds of things. You can see where the movie biz fits in.

Web maestro Steve Spears came unstuck from the 80's long enough to record a Oscars podcast with me that should debut this weekend. Of course, we could only talk about Academy Award winners from his favorite decade. I haven't thought about Out of Africa that much in... well, ever.

We're ironing out next Sunday night's strategy to cover the Oscars live for Monday. Looks like music  critic Sean Daly will be assisting on this blog with live commentary. He owes me after asking for my suggestion of Valentines Day gift to his Forever Fiancee: "Give her a week off from lusting after pop tarts on your blog." That's romance.

I'm hoping Princess Di will add a laptop for my over-the-shoulder wisecracks while typing the stories. I always need the right side of my brain involved.

But at the moment I'm on my own and running behind. I'll post some impressions later of the three flicks I'm reviewing: Charlie Bartlett (think Ferris Bueller with prescription drugs and a conscience), Be Kind Rewind (a cool idea done wrong and too long) and Vantage Point.

No matter how long it takes, no matter how far, I will find you.  

Oscar shorts at Sarasota

Ever wonder what the heck those live-action and animated shorts nominated for Academy Awards are all about? So do I, since almost none of them are seen around here. Now there's an opportunity, if you don't mind driving a bit.

The Sarasota Film Society has just announced that the 2007 Academy Award Nominated Live Action and Animated Shorts will be screened at the Lakewood Ranch Cinemas on Saturday, February 16th and Sunday, February 17th at 10:00 a.m., and the Animated Shorts will be screened on Saturday, February 23 & Sunday, February 24th at 10:00 a.m.

Admission is $7.75 for non-members and $5 for members and tickets will be available at the box office or online at filmsociety.org

The Lakewood Ranch Cinemas are located at the foot of Main Street in Lakewood Ranch. Directions are available on the website.

In a news release, Film Society executive director Jerry Kovar said, "This is a great opportunity for our audience to see all of the nominated short films before the winners are announced at the 80th Academy Awards ceremony. They deserve to be seen, and we are excited to be able to present them."

The nominees for Live Action Shorts include:

AT NIGHT (Denmark, In Danish w/English Subtitles, 40 min) Three young women share their problems while spending the holidays in a hospital cancer ward.

IL SUPPLENTE (THE SUBSTITUTE) (Italy, In Italian w/English Subtitles 17 min) The arrival of an unusual newcomer galvanizes the students in a high school classroom.

TANGHI ARGENTINI (Belgium, In French w/English Subtitles, 13 min) A man who must learn to dance the tango in two weeks asks an office colleague for help.

LE MOZART DES PICKPOCKETS (THE MOZART OF PICKPOCKETS) (France, In French w/English Subtitles, 31min) A pair of unlucky thieves find their fortunes have changed when they take in a deaf homeless boy.

THE TONTO WOMAN (UK, In English, 36 min) A cattle rustler meets a woman who is living in isolation after being held prisoner for eleven years by the Mojave Indians.

The nominees for Animated Shorts include:

I MET THE WALRUS (Canada, In English, 5 min) In 1969, fourteen-year-old Jerry Levitan snuck into John Lennon's hotel room with his tape recorder and persuaded him to do an interview.

MADAME TUTLI-PUTLI (Canada, Silent, 17 min) A timid woman boards a mysterious night train and has a series of frightening experiences.

MEME LES PIGEONS VONT AU PARADIS (EVEN PIGEONS GO TO HEAVEN) (France, In French w/English Subtitles, 9 min) A priest tries to sell an old man a machine that he promises will transport him to heaven.

MY LOVE (MOYA LYUBOV) (Russia, In Russian w/English Subtitles, 27 min) In nineteenth-century Russia, a teenage boy in search of love is drawn to two very different women.

PETER & THE WOLF (UK & Poland, Silent, 27 min) A young boy and his animal friends face a hungry wolf in Prokofiev's classic musical piece.

Remembering Roy Scheider

Everyone remembers Roy Scheider as the guy who needed a bigger boat in Jaws, or Popeye Doyle's partner in The French Connection. I always preferred him in the late Bob Fosse's 1980 film All That Jazz as Joe Gideon, a self-destructive, womanizing Broadway genius a lot like Fosse himself. It was a volcanic performance that should've won the best actor Oscar instead of Dustin Hoffman in Kramer vs. Kramer.

It was 1999 when my affection for that movie led to an interview with Scheider in Tampa when he visited his All That Jazz co-star and Fosse's former lover Ann Reinking's Broadway Theatre Project for young stage talent. Watching him watching them was delightful. Chatting with them about Fosse and the film was everything I could hope for as a fan. Now Joe Gideon's death scene -- longer and more dazzling than any on film --  won't be the same.

But what I want to do is replay the last part of the story I wrote in 1999, an anecdote that says everything necessary about an actor devoted to his craft, and who'll be missed:

"Look at the amount of performance that was in what we saw out there," he gushed. "We saw several kids in there who could audition tomorrow in New York City and get some work. "Besides the music and dance, every one of those kids were so damn sincere. They had so much feeling for what they were doing. You couldn't help but be touched."

That was especially true for the session's final question, posed by Paddy Heusinger, 18, of Jacksonville. Heusinger appeared nervous when he asked Scheider to identify a moment in a movie or play that deeply moved him. Scheider's intuition prompted him to turn the question around, asking Heusinger for his most memorable dramatic experience.

Heusinger was coaxed into reminiscing about a scene from Neil Simon's Broadway Bound. "I don't like Neil Simon much, because there's no subtext to his work," Heusinger said. "But he's won Pulitzers and everything, so ..." Scheider smiled at the teen's boldness.

Late in the play, Heusinger said, the mother of the play's hero Eugene wonders if she has ever done anything right for her son. "You birthed me," he softly replies, and they reach out to each other for a farewell dance. Heusinger's voice cracked, and he wiped tears from his cheeks. The scene, he sobbed, reminded him of his own parents' support.

Scheider didn't say a word, or try to relieve Heusinger of that emotional response. When Heusinger was seated again, Scheider's voice, more solemn than before, rose above the audience's sniffles for his closing comment: "This is why we do what we do. We must do it. We have to communicate. We have to touch each other with our art."

Somewhere in the hereafter, Bob Fosse smiled, flicked his cigarette ash, and called it a wrap.

Night at the Museum, or Hello Dali

You know it's a good party if Sterling Powell is there. The flamboyant fan-about-town and publisher of CitiLife Magazine was in full effect at last night's reception kicking off the Dali and Film exhibition at the Salvador Dali museum in St. Pete.

Decked out in a superbly tailored suit the color of the wine I was drinking  (I was tempted to toss it at him to prove how well it matched), Sterling worked the crowd with the kind of social skills I sometimes wish I had. I'm sure lots of other people wish the same for me, too.

Anyway, it was a fun night for Princess Di and me, our ears filled with oompah polka sounds (Haben sie geherd das Deutsche band?) and eyes overloaded by Dali's artwork on canvas and, appropriately enough, on walls where the master's influences upon Luis Bunuel and Alfred Hitchcock were projected. Didn't get a detailed tour with the Dali's decent docents but we'll be back for that.

I was knocked out by two Dali paintings borrowed for the exhibition: a relatively "normal" portrait of  Hollywood movie mogul Jack Warner commissioned after the studio legend heard Dali did Walt Disney, and a remarkable portrait of Laurence Olivier honoring his Richard III.

Of course, Times art critic Lennie Bennett can comment more insightfully on the subjects and she will, in a Latitudes piece next weekend. I'll feel smarter then for a return visit.

Lots of familiar faces and friends. I was stunned to learn this was Times Florida chronicler Jeff Klinkenberg's first trip to the Dali. Gotta get out of those swamps more often, pal. We pointed him to Dali's masterpiece The Persistence of Memory -- which is only about 10 inches square -- and he thought it was a copy. Jeff likes his art big.

The museum had a Dali impersonator strolling around but Princess Di and I agreed he looked more like Borat. Verrry niiiiice.

The Dali and Film exhibit will run through June 1 and the schedule includes several seminars by folks who know what they're talking about. Why they asked me to do one is anyone's guess.

But I shall, on March 12 at 7:30, a presentation I'm calling "Dalihoo," focused upon schlocky exploitation movies and the weird ballyhoo tricks that sold them, that were right up Dali's alley. I'm sure the Gasparilla Film Fest thing on March 1 with Blood Feast, Herschell Gordon Lewis and David Friedman will provide some good material.

Gasparilla Film Fest looks good

Hit the Gasparilla Film Festival's announcement of its 2008 lineup today. Let me first say that the Don Vincente de Ybor Historic Inn in Ybor City gives off a more promising vibe than last year's inaugural car dealership parking lot off Dale Mabry.

I get the impression that GFF president Eric Odum (who had last year's great idea) and first-year executive director John Rosser are cleaning up well after last year's problems.  And not just because they mentioned the Blood Feast 45th anniversary screening at Channelside on March 1 that I suggested and is revving up to be quite the experience.

Sorry, I need to catch my breath after such a long, punctuation-less shameless plug.

(But it's gonna be cool.)

Anyway, the GFF has an interesting lineup of films, starting with the Feb. 27 opening night film, Kabluey. It looks like an edgy comedy starring Lisa Kudrow and Chris Parnell, who I always enjoyed on Saturday Night Live. It's also produced by Jeff Balis, a Berkeley Prep graduate with Project Greenlight producing credits and the Bennigan's spoof Waiting... that made me skip the Monte Cristo ever after. He's directing a sequel.

But, hey, he's a Tampa guy.

Swear to Spielberg: Mama Guava from the Gasparilla parade messaged me the other day about Balis because he's a former student of hers.  That's enough for me to want to meet him.

Anyway, another interesting GFF entry is The Flock, a thriller with Richard Gere and Claire Danes that's produced by Bauer-Martinez Studios. Maybe you read the story a few years ago when they opened offices in Largo to match the ones in Los Angeles. They gave us Citizen Jury with Jerry Springer as a housewarming gift.

BMS usually produce and distribute overseas with name actors but have a project that may be filmed somewhere here, if everything falls together. We'll see what happens.

The Gasparilla festival has 81 movies -- features, shorts, docus -- in the lineup, representing 10 countries. Many are Latin American, to showcase Tampa's Hispanic heritage. Odum and Rosser were clear about their intentions to make visiting filmmakers and distributors aware of Tampa Bay's scenic possibilities, including Ybor City lodgings.

Check out the lineup. Tickets are $10 for every screening except special ones with extras like opening night at Tampa Theatre, closing night and a shark flick in-between (Terry Tomalin will love that), both at Florida Aquarium.

And don't miss Blood Feast. Remember, Joe Bob said check it out.

Misconceptions reception

Just got back from the wrap party for Misconceptions, the indie flick filmed in Pinellas County for the past 6 weeks by Ron Satlof, an Eckerd College professor now since his days directing for TV.

Nice get-together at the Don CeSar, in a fifth floor reception room with a patio overlooking tourists who can't believe they're sunbathing in February, and a bartender who's a Patriots fan and didn't fully grasp the magnificence of my Super Bowl squares game success. (Sony Pictures Classics co-president Tom Bernard isn't my only wagering victim this year.)

But I went to see a few minutes of early footage of Misconceptions, which was good enough to make me think this is a little film that can.

Misconceptions, if you haven't paid attention, is a dramedy about a gay couple (Orlando Jones is one half, with a solid role on the page and in the clips) striking an agreement with a deeply religious woman (A.J. Cook) to carry their child because she thinks God wants her to, despite their "Sodomite" ways. There are other characters involved, making this a gentle satire of gay rights and Christian opposition but not at anyone's expense unless you wish to be militant.

Anyway, the movie looks like it has potential, maybe on the gay festival circuit if it's underestimated and at the very least regional, straight festivals if it isn't. Everyone with the proper apparatus can relate to the fertility clinic clip, at least.

Misconceptions was filmed on a $500,000 budget (according to Satlof) with a lot of Eckerd volunteers and as many people working for less money than they deserve. Most of them were at the Don, and standing off to the side watching them share their accomplishment was pretty cool.

Satlof made sure to tell everyone the clips shown didn't have his final cut seal of approval. I sneaked a few looks at his face and could sense he was mostly pleased but has a few editing room ideas. Funny, but I met him 5 weeks ago and learned he is a vigorous person for age 69. He looked younger Wednesday, showing off his (and co-writer Ira Pearlstein's) baby.

He'll be heading into post-production now, hoping to have Misconceptions ready to show to distributors at fall/winter festivals. Wish him luck.

Whaddaya know? Martin Lawrence CAN be funny

Had two screenings simultaneously Monday night, so a choice had to be made: watch Matthew McConaughey take off his shirt in Fool's Gold, or watch Martin Lawrence act the fool in Welcome Home Roscoe Jenkins.

I decided to save McConaughey's strip show for a drinking game on DVD ("There goes the shirt. Chug!")

It turned out to be my second good choice in two days, after winning some loot on the Super Bowl.

Here's a teaser to my review on Welcome Home Roscoe Jenkins:

Don’t be fooled by lowbrow advertising into thinking Welcome Home Roscoe Jenkins is another foolish Ice Cube comedy or (shudder) Norbit.

I was tricked then pleasantly surprised that there’s more happening in this movie than gross encounters with animals and fat women, punctuated by groin gags.

Those low common denominators are present, of course. But not until writer-director Malcolm D. Lee and his multigenerational cast create a vibe making such jokes tolerable because they’re not the whole show. A few of the African-American actors built careers upon bad taste and neo-minstrel stereotypes. Other, seasoned actors like James Earl Jones and Margaret Avery earned fame with pride and positive images.

On balance, the old school attitude wins out.

Welcome Home Roscoe Jenkins opens Friday. read the full review in Thursday's Weekend.

Honeydripper is a sweet movie treat

John Sayles invents a rural legend with Honeydripper, based on facts of living black in 1950 Alabama, gingerly exaggerated so that we wish this yarn were true. Like the roadhouse blues Sayles celebrates, the movie has a repetitive, chugging pace getting more infectious by the minute.

The Honeydripper is a shanty nightclub deep in cotton country, owned by piano man “Pinetop” Purvis (Danny Glover is top form) but perhaps not for long. Business is bad because Pinetop sticks to roots blues that can’t compete with a jukebox joint down the road. Creditors want their money, the liquor supplier refuses to advance its hooch and a bigoted sheriff (Stacy Keach) pops in at all the wrong times.

Pinetop plans one big weekend score, bowing to new tastes by hiring Guitar Sam and his new-fangled electric sound from New Orleans. When Sam doesn’t arrive by train, Pinetop and his bouncer Maceo (Charles S. Dutton) devise a scheme involving shoddy electrical wiring, some lying and a drifter named Sonny (Gary Clark, Jr.), who claims to pick a guitar pretty well himself.

The era and plot allows Sayles to do what his best films always do: dig so deeply into the fabric of a culture that it feels as if he always lived there. There isn’t a more trenchant movie about the modern Florida experience than Sunshine State, or Texas tradition than Lone Star, or South American morality than Casa de los Babys and Men with Guns. This time Sayles seems like a crawfishing good ol’ boy, not a kid from Schenectady, N.Y.

Sayles adores this peeled-paint atmosphere, the itinerant gentility of its citizens and the revival vibe of gospel tents and juke joints. Racism is evident but these people have learned to live with it, thriving by turning the other cheek before times when that wouldn’t happen anymore. Honeydripper never preaches but always teaches about African-American perseverance before the protests.

As usual, Sayles devotes plenty of time to peripheral characters, embellishing the film’s spirit, including Pinetop’s ambitious daughter China Doll (Yaya DeCosta), and his wife Delilah (Lisa Gay Hamilton) who is finding religion. The rivalry between a slickster (Sean Patrick Thomas) and a hulking cotton picker (Daryl Edwards) becomes key to the climax. And I love bluesman Keb’ Mo’ as a blind street musician with an ethereal vibe.

Honeydripper gets distracted by a few needless elements – Mary Steenburgen’s privileged wife for example – but Sayles pulls everything else together for a wonderful finale. This is a small movie you can dance to, and the Beach Theatre where it is opening Feb. 8 probably wouldn’t mind.