Fan mail from some flounder

This is how I love starting off Monday morning, reading a long, angry e-mail composed late the previous night, from a reader saying I'm not worth paying attention to. That makes sense.

Anyway, I thought I'd pass it along verbatim. The spelling/capitalization/punctuation mistakes and poor sentence structures may be attributed to the reader's obvious distaste for teachers. The ugly tone may reflect his noted affection for Cloverfield:

"A  few  years  ago  you  wrote  a  piece,  (why  your  editor  lets  you  is  a  mystery)  scolding  the  cinema  goers  that  weekend  of  going  to  see  a  film  to  which  you  had  given  a  bad  review.

I  wrote  to  you  then  explaining  to  you  that  the  people  who  go  to  movies, (mostly  kids)  neither  read  or  care  about  your  negative  prattling.  They  will  go  and  see  whatever  they  want,  and  do. That  is  also  the  same  time  we  found  out  you  used  to  be  a  teacher,  explains  a  lot  that  one.

To  my  amazement  they  let  you do  it  again,  except  this  time  praising  the  theatre  going  public,  of  which  you  seem  to  think  you  have  so  much  power  over,  for  staying  away  from  an  obviously  crappy  movie. (blogger's note: The Love Guru)

'Well  done'  you  congratulated  them,  yeah  it  was  all  you  steve,  not  the  economy,  not  the  war,  not  the fact  that  is  summer  time  and  our  choices  are  many. No  it  was  you  steve,  you  wield  the  power.  So  it  is  that  your  Editor  allows  you  to  languish  in  your  own  arrogance  by  letting  you  write  about  it.

"My  faith  is  restored."

How  to  write  a  review,,I  do/  do  not  like  this  film,  depending  on  whom  I  am  pandering  to  that  week,(Tina  fey),  now  here  is  what  happens  exactly  in  the  film.

You  are  too  ignorant  to  include  spoiler  alerts  for  every  film  you  ruin. Wow,  did  you  go  to  film  school,  or  were  you  just  some  teacher.

'Lost  sense  of  direction.' (Blogger's note: published Sunday) At  least  most  of  those  directors  made  one  or  two  great  movies,  but  the  blair  witch  project,  are  you  kidding,  that  piece  of  kings  new  clothes  bandwagon  bullshit  doesn't  even  deserve  to  be  on  the  same  page  as  the  Deer  Hunter,  cloverfield anyone,  which  you  reviewed,  as  bad,  hmmm.

Rollerball just  another  hokey  violent  seventies  movie,  your  words,  until  Norman  Jewison  comes  to  the  clearwater  film  festival (blogger's note: It was Sarasota),  and  suddenly  you're  all  over  him. When  was  the  last  time  you  actually  watched  the  original  Rollerball? You  are  crap,  and  I  will  be  watching  you.

Oh, and  by  the  way,  GET  OFF  THE  TV,  IS  THAT  A  LIVER  THING  OR  WHAT,  I'M  TRYING  TO  EAT.

JOHN  E.  STERLING.

Thanks for your input, although your name is the only thing I read that's Sterling.

Who are the one-hit movie wonders of all time?

I'm working on an article and really could use your help.

I commented in a recent review of The Happening that writer-director M. Night Shyamalan's breakthrough movie The Sixth Sense is looking more like one of the biggest flukes in modern film history. That got my editors wondering about other filmmakers who opened with a bang then fizzled out. When editors wonder, reporters write.

Anyway, I'm compiling a list of directors who fall into that ignoble category, people who had breakthrough hits and never reached that level of accomplishment again.

First, we need to qualify what is a hit. It could be a box office smash, or an artistically exemplary film that apparently used up the director's potential. It could be both, like The Sixth Sense, that earned money ($293-million in the U.S.) and acclaim (six Oscar nominations including best picture).

Keeping with Shyamalan's example, don't consider The Village ($114-million) or Signs ($227-million) as box office hits. Their ticket sales were markedly lower than The Sixth Sense, and Signs had the Mel Gibson factor going for it, before Gibson went bonkers and became b.o. poison. Good will residue from The Sixth Sense surely helped, as fans kept hoping Shyamalan could pull another rabbit out of his hat.

Remember that the $100-million mark that slow learners still consider as the measure of a hit, isn't anymore. Higher ticket prices -- not to mention production and distribution costs -- pushed that break-off point to somewhere around $150-million. If you're considering a filmmaker from before the 1970's when blockbusters became imperative, box office totals don't count much at all.

One name that immediately comes to mind is Orson Welles, who reinvented American cinema with Citizen Kane -- arguably the greatest movie of all time -- and never matched himself again. certainly there are academics who will advocate The Magnificent Ambersons, and Touch of Evil has its share of brilliant film noir moments. But Citizen Kane set the bar too high for anyone to clear, which Welles often admitted as his career became a joke.

I'm also considering these directors of Academy Award winners for best picture, who never sniffed an Oscar again: Kevin Costner (Dances with Wolves), Bruce Beresford (Driving Miss Daisy), Hugh Hudson (Chariots of Fire), and Michael Cimino (The Deer Hunter).

Those are just off the top of my head. Now tell me what's in yours.

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OMG! Marky Mark just spoiled The Happening on TV!

Right there on the CBS Early Show. And he said more about whatever's forcing people to kill themselves in The Happening than I did on this blog and in my print review. So, all those folks who have groaned on the phone or keyboard about my noting it's a case of nature's revenge can chill.

"It's a little message-y," host Harry Smith said of the eco-terror plot.

"I'm a faith-based guy and that doesn't waver," Mark Wahlberg said. "But (M.Night Shyamalan) gave me so much information about the honey bees and the fact that they're disappearing and there's no chance of them coming back (which is in the preview trailers, too)... and the primordial bacteria off the coast of Australia, and the next thing you know I'm completely convinced this could happen.

"Certainly I haven't jumped on the green wagon but we do our part at home. You look at the climate today and what's going on in the world. It's possible that this could happen."

Thanks, bud. The only thing better would be if you made those statements on a TV show people actually watch. I doubt that the show's ratings made Wahlberg bolder about revealing anything. If it was such a big secret, he'd be teasing it to sell more tickets.

The problem is that Shyamalan is widely known as a filmmaker who depends upon last-minute twists to thrill audiences -- Bruce Willis being dead in The Sixth Sense, or a superhero in Unbreakable, or that The Village is actually set in modern times. He doesn't pull a late switcheroo in The Happening, probably because he thought that would fool viewers expecting him to employ the usual strategy.

Apparently the movie's above-the-title star didn't think it's a big deal to reveal.

But some viewers -- who haven't seen the movie yet -- think I spoiled it.  After 15 years in the job, I'm very careful to avoid doing that to any movie. Heck, even someone at Tampabay.com lost faith, adding "Spoiler alert!" to the entertainment page tease without asking me if it may be necessary. Maybe they should've asked Wahlberg.

As I've conveyed to complainers: I didn't spoil Shyamalan's movie. He did that himself.

Sex and the City, microphones in the frame

Woke up to this e-mail from a reader, conveying a problem I have written about numerous times over the years. Had to explain it again during a TV interview the other day:

"What's the story? Hundreds of folks saw Sex and the City at Tri-City AMC and there were many scenes where the microphone and/or boom mic was visible. How could a major studio release such a badly edited film to the public? There is some word about this on the Internet. You're the expert -- what's the story?

MJ Gruskin
Clearwater, FL"

My reply:

I guarantee you that's a problem with the teenager assigned to run the projector. He/she didn't have the film properly framed (in this case, too high so too much at the top was showing). It's the same as going to see a foreign movie and the subtitles might be cut off because the film is framed too low.

The fact that some folks are complaining online about this with regard to that movie says two things: Sex and the City is bringing out people who don't go to theaters enough to know how sloppily many are operated, and the problem of poorly trained employees who don't care what happens as long as they get paid is everywhere.

What ticket-buying customers need to do is get off their butts, complain immediately to management and have them make that very simple adjustment. Nothing gets done if you just sit there and complain to yourself.

Summer movie trailer clubhouse is open!

We were sitting around a table somewhere in Ybor during Super Bowl XXXXOOOO (that's our kind of Roman numerals) when I told Princess Di that every football team looks like a champion in the highlight reels. I'm sure I wasn't the first to notice but Di -- bless her no-R-rated-movies-before-21 heart -- thought I was a genius.

I hope everyone else notices that movies are the same kind of promotional beast. Watch the Miami Dolphins' 2007 highlights, hear that NFL Films announcer's (probably a Sabol) booming promise of title-challenging days, probably now, despite a 1-15 season. Tell me if that doesn't look and sound like the preview trailer for Space Chimps.

Every movie is an Oscar contender in the highlight reel.

Which brings us to the topic of movie previews, specifically summer flicks, that coincidentally are the subject of today's Weekend cover story.

Check out my picks for the 10 best and 10 worst movie summer movie preview trailers. Then post your own choices in either or both categories.

Let's remember that anything released before this weekend doesn't count. The online posting date, finally, of my Indy 4 review was the deadline. I don't think Helen Hunt's Then She Found Me preview would get many votes, anyway.

Have fun while I tidy up for the Mom-in-law's visit.

What's your fave summer movie preview?

Well, kiddies, I need your help. No, not with antidepressants; I have plenty of those.

I'm prepping our annual summer movie preview that's due for publication on May 22 in Weekend. Each year I like to come up with some new angle but my editors just won't buy into my idea of reprinting last year's feature, just to see if anyone notices.

Instead, our summer preview will focus upon summer previews. You know, those 2-minute propaganda pieces you see in theaters and online trying to convince everyone that this or that movie is ABSOLUTELY WHAT YOU CAN'T LIVE WITHOUT SEEING!

I want to list choices for the best and worst of those preview trailers, the ones either pulling money from your pocket like a magnet, or those that making yard work seem like a better use of time.

Right now, I'm leaning toward Hancock as my fave, with Will Smith looking primed to reclaim his crown as the Fourth of July movie king. I love the notion of a miscreant superhero doing more damage than good with his powers. (The whale-saving shot is priceless, if you haven't seen it.) And that unprintably titled Ludacris song backing the action ("Whoa, get out the way") is, as the kids say, quite hip indeed.

On the other end of the spectrum, the worst trailer I've seen is trying to make chicken salad of the chicken whatever that is Eddie Murphy's next flick, Meet Dave. Check it out but sure to use safety goggles to prevent the exquisite badness from scorching your retinas.

You can find almost any movie's  trailers on YouTube, of course. I'm partial to searching the titles on the Internet Movie Database where trailer links are available.

Wherever you go for your preview trailer fix, post your suggestions here. And before deadline, please. My boss will appreciate that.

Hindus to Mike Myers: "Oh, behave!"

Woke up this a.m. to find an interesting e-mail headlined: "Resentment against movie The Love Guru spreading rapidly."

It appears that Mike Myers' portrayal of a Hindu guru in a comedy opening June 20 is ruffling the robes of that faith's believers, and supporters from other religions. Here's the text, minus one thick paragraph listing 11 more multi-denominational protesters (a priest, a rabbi and a civil rights activist included, and that's no joke):

Censure of the upcoming Hollywood movie The Love Guru over the signals of its denigrating Hindu traditions is broadening quickly among both Hindu and non-Hindu circles.

Supporting the movement spearheaded by prominent Hindu and Indo-American leader Rajan Zed, various Hindu and non-Hindu organizations and leaders have been coming out expressing concern about the possibility of the film hurting the sentiments of Hindus worldwide and urging filmmakers to be more responsible when handling faith related subjects. Zed has been saying that from the information available about the movie, it appears to be lampooning Hinduism and Hindus and using Hindu terms frivolously.

Swami Pooja Saraswati, a well respected spiritual leader, in a declaration, said, “I watched the trailer for the movie Love Guru and was shocked that any respectable movie producer would so blatantly ridicule a great world religion, a culture, spiritual path and sincere way of life, portraying it as farce.”

“Hopefully, Paramount Pictures would agree to make changes suggested by Rajan Zed and other Hindu leaders, during the prescreening of this insulting film before millions of Hindus, yogis and people of high spiritual consciousness around the world feel hurt, offended and outraged,” she added.

Reverend John J. Auer, Pastor of First United Methodist Church in Reno, in a statement, said, “…with reference to the film The Love Guru, I respectfully request the creators and producers and their investors to grant the Hindu community a respectful way to respond and make any suggested amendments to the film…”

“Neither Mr. Zed nor I has any interest in censorship…However, it is crucial that every faith tradition be given the chance to be heard in response to any portrayal in popular culture of elements of that tradition that might be easily misrepresented and/or misunderstood,” Rev. Auer added.

Hindu Jana Jagruti Samiti and Sanatan Sanstha, through their spokesperson Bhavna Shinde, in a release today, demanded removal of the trailer and making changes to the movie The Love Guru, so that it will not hurt the feelings of the many spiritual seekers and the religious sentiments of devout Hindus worldwide.

Shinde further said that if the trailer is an indicator of the content of the movie, then we feel that this movie is not only likely to hurt sentiments of seekers from various paths of spiritual practice, but will also contribute to the misunderstanding about the sacred concept of the ‘Guru’. We are registering this protest, in support of Rajan Zed’s protest against the denigration indicated in the movie The Love Guru, she added.

Alison Pratte, a yoga leader, has stated, “I was surprised to find myself offended after watching the trailer The Love Guru…the depiction of the main character in the movie seems more than a harmless spoof. It is loaded with an ignorant stereotype of a culture and religion that is already misunderstood and stigmatized…This movie The Love Guru will only cause more ignorance and bring shame to a beautiful tradition that has existed for thousands of years.”

Andrea Forman, Founder of Shanti Shanti, only Sanskrit rock band in the world, in a statement, said, “…it should be noted that the portrayal of a Guru depicted in this movie, is entertaining, but not an accurate portrayal of the austere and revered spiritual guides that are so dear to the practice and continuation of Hindu and Buddhist teachings.”

Paramount Pictures, through its Senior Vice President National Publicity, Jessica Rovins, has earlier stated, “It is our full intention to screen the film for Rajan Zed and other Hindu leaders in the U.S. once we have a finished print."

It may be recalled here that advance screenings of Mel Gibson’s 2004 movie The Passion of the Christ were held for clergy and others.

The Love Guru; a comedy starring Mike Myers (of Austin Powers fame, who is also the co-writer and co-producer), Jessica Alba, Justin Timberlake, Ben Kingsley; and directed by Marco Schnabel; is set to release on June 20 next. In it Myers, an American, raised in an ashram in India, moves back to US as Guru Pitka to seek fame and fortune in the world of self-help and spirituality.

Hinduism, oldest and third largest religion of the world, has about one billion followers. Moksha (liberation) is the ultimate goal of Hinduism.

Paramount Pictures Corporation is a global producer and distributor of filmed entertainment.

Sarasota bound, and boating with the A-Train

What's the emoticon for "embarrassed?" I'm still pissed about rushing through the Leatherheads review Tuesday morning, and nobody noticing a glaring mistake until it was published.

Yes, folks, I know there weren't Nazis in World War I. Doesn't mean I can't type it. The correction ran today on 2B (no, it wasn't part of the no-gossip-day plan) but the gloating e-mails and phone messages haven't stopped. I made some insecure people's day.

So, after kicking Mojo (just kidding!) and cranking out more closely scrutinized stuff for next Weekend, I'm off to pick up Princess Di and head to Sarasota for the film festival's opening night screening of The Deal. I'll post some impressions later, and before Saturday's shindig that will make this week worth slogging through.

Tomorrow I'll again be a dignitary at the Chasco Fiesta Boat Parade in New Port Richey where I was (as Daly would say) reared. Usually I'm a miscreant at Chasco events but "dignitary" will do for a day. Di and I will be riding on one of the boat-floats, waving at folks along the Cotee riverside. The theme is something like "Hooray for Hollywood" after making the trip last year as a hometown boy made semi-good.

Tampa Bay Buccaneers great (no matter what Daly believes) Mike Alstott is the grand marshal, and I'm looking forward to seeing him again at our Hooters pre-and-post parade gatherings. The last time was when I tossed the first pitch at a (then-Devil) Rays game against the Mets. Mike was sitting in a box behind us and signed the ball.

Should be fun, then we'll hit Jilly's, an NPR institution owned by friends. Hope your weekend rocks, too.

Fewer Blood Feast photos (not for the squeamish)

Here's the now-infamous fake blood splatter on the Channelside Cinemas screen. That's the two Andys fretting  about scrubbing it off before the multiplex police caught us; me bidding the crowd adieu; and cleaning up the carnage. Click on the photos for larger images.

Blog visitor SteveS (father of Daydreamer screenwriter Adam Sigal), posted: "Hahaha. This was the talk of the Festival yesterday. Persall got nominated for a special effects award afterwards. (not)" Thanks, pal.

Princess Di (or "that other woman" as described by an editor who asked me to take down a couple pix) is always there to make mutilation more fun. Thanks to my Juno-like pal Hope for the pix!

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.

Clover and over

OK, let's get some perspective on both sides of this "my-generation-is-better-than-yours" thing. The Friday b.o. results for the latest shiny object look good if you want them to. But not if you're old enough to watch things happen over time (an advantage of old age).

Cloverfield grossed $16.9-million on Friday when all the fanboyz and girlz would be in theaters. That breaks the all-time record for an opening Friday in January, a historically dead month for new releases. Cloverfield got the audience that immediately complains about anyone not liking the movie since they had a lot of trouble getting there first.

Yay.

The weekend total will be around $42-million, another January record, of course. It doesn't matter that January is a dump-off month for studios while the Oscar push is going on. It will still be enough for Paramount  flacks, J.J. Abrams, his minions and anyone driven to the theater by hype for hoke to claim victory over infidels like me dissing the movie.

So, I'm wrong, right? Wrong.

I don't write for p.r. folks, producers or moviegoers sold on whatever studio suits (who are nothing like us except wanting to live in comfort) are cagey enough to sell. I also don't pretend -- as Cloverleaf lemmings will --that something is cool because previously mentioned, invested factions say it is.

The January record some will cherish as vindication -- and remember that publicists create new records whenever it benefits clients -- was set last year by Snakes on a Plane. That piece of, um, art had the same aggressive Web push and gullible audience I'm griping about.

Are drones getting wiser by paying even more money with little else than someone else's clever and self-gratifying urging? I don't think so.

Will Cloverleaf be a memorable screen experience for some moviegoers? There's a very good chance it will. Heck, even David Spade's movies have someone who'll swear by them. Does that make Joe Dirt a better comedy than Blazing Saddles or even Night at the Museum? No way, just like McDonald's selling 47 quintillion hamburgers doesn't make them fine dining.

But at least Ronald McDonald doesn't sell Big Macs as the greatest eating experience you'll ever have. And if they did most people have enough sense to consider that maybe, just maybe, it isn't.

Yet some people have never eaten anything except fast food, so a McRib is a five-star culinary delight. Those are the marks I'm talking about.  The folks I respect will consider Cloverleaf as a McRib with a couple extra pickle slices, if you don't mind hydroponic pickles.

There are too many who won't -- thereby dumbing down movies to be made, if dumb ideas sold to easy targets make fortunes. I love this stuff too much to sit by and not provoke them to reconsider, as anyone should who sees movies as a longtime means, not an weekend end.

Anyone I pissed off is collateral damage.

If Cloverleaf came out before Blair Witch Project, I might applaud its psuedo-cinema verite style and hope someone could refine it to chilling effect. Since it didn't, I see something that looks derivative in execution and exploitative in its delivery to a young audience making pickpocketing too easy.   

Crimson and Cloverfield

Got some people seeing red and that's always fun. One more reader eloquently objected to my thoughts on Cloverfield, the young viewers likely to make it a hit and why. I'm not budging but have to admire the gusto shown by defenders of their beliefs like Christian Marble:

Mr. Persall,

While I appreciate your opinion as a professional, I just wanted to say that I found your (Jan. 25) review of Cloverfield to be insulting, specifically because you took a direct shot at my "gullible YouTube generation."

How old are you, sir? Because it seemed that you entirely missed the point of everything in this movie, and failed to even grasp one of the many aspects of it that will make J.J. Abrams' project probably one of the biggest hits of this decade among people my age (I'm 19). If you don't understand the "YouTube" generation, if you don't understand our language or our social behavior patterns or the way we see the world or act or think, then obviously you won't get the movie. And that's fine, you don't have to. But what I seriously object to is the complete condescension with which you treat not only the film, but also my age group.

As a generation that has been producing "wishful doodles" in our notebooks for years, we certainly appreciate seeing the sort of nightmarish, and nothing short of awesome, effects in the movie and the adrenalizing pace with which we experience the film's events. I for one am glad to have seen what looked like a montage of some of my most epic and amazing dreams, and as a college student, I identified with the characters a great deal.

Another aspect that you, and undoubtedly many other movie reviewers across the nation, missed about this movie and a great number of other films, is the fact that it wasn't simply a 90 minute monster flick that came out of nowhere. Internet marketing is what has driven the film, the sort of user-generated hype that was propelled by mysterious websites like slusho.jp and tagruato.jp as well as all sorts of YouTube clips and rumors about the film. The internet is what drives my generation, and it will make movies profitable. Not to mention that it's already boosting a number of presidential campaigns.

You're entitled to your conventional opinion that seems to be largely based on the old rules. That's fine. But when you see something that you obviously don't understand or grasp in its generational context, please try not to call it irritating or anything like that, and for the love of God don't insult my age group just because we're into something new, because we live by different rules and we like different things out of our movies. Every once and a while, it's okay to have a movie that makes obvious 9/11 references and scares us senseless without being a grand masterpiece of thoughtful literature. Although, I will add that my 52-year-old, Fine Arts Major mother thought the movie was gripping, convincing, cutting edge, and a very accurate mirror of my generation specifically through the camerawork and dialog.

Basically, as a reader, I just wanted to say that I'm tired of movie reviewers acting like my generation is full of senseless morons that will "believe anything we could shoot by ourselves is awesome." If you don't get us, fine, but don't be so condescending just because you have different tastes than the rest of us. A D- for the movie was more than a bit extreme.

Finally, your contempt and mockery for the members of my generation who enjoyed the hype and loved the movie couldn't be more obvious, and it offends me. I do not like being told that I as one of the "fanboyz" am some kind of a moron who is deluding himself about the movie. I didn't pretend to be thrilled, I was thrilled. I'm going to see the movie again, probably repeatedly. And I would appreciate it if you would try to be a little less insulting to a movie's fans the next time you make a review.

Sincerely,
Christian Marble

I don't know your name, stranger...

... but your face is familiar.

Anyone recognizing that line from Hawkeye to Trapper in the movie (not lame sitcom) M*A*S*H gets extra credit.

Hey, everybody (or at least you). I've been on the truest thing to vacation that I've taken since 11th grade, before SATs, finals, school board posers and editors prevented me from doing so. I felt guilty for the first 2 weeks or so. Got over it for the final few days and my first day back at work.

Did you miss me? Didn't think so, but I thought of you often, wondering if the next handsome blogger about bicycle nerds or IRA funding would steal you from me.

You little minx.

I knew you couldn't stay away.

Anyway, I have a few thoughts piled up, a few passes to a cool advance screening, an unusual rash on my torso, and sundry collisions of mind and splatter to pass along on my own time schedule.

There won't be a full-court press for posting at lunchtime because that's when folks supposedly log in. There won't be a tie-in with anyone whose blog has the built-in comfort of sucking up to generations that don't have much better to do because they never had to work hard. There won't be serious journalism because that's not how I roll, or that my beat usually deserves. There also won't be any punctuation when I'm really feeling feisty.

In short, this blog is either gonna fly or fade. You can guess which side I'm betting upon.

After two sessions of blogging on festivals and features that nobody else covers around Florida and nobody comments upon, of raging against machines that the dimmer of us still believe are beneficent, and as much time fretting that my hits don't equal murder trials finished a year ago, or which junk foods taste groovy, I am - in the spirit of Mitch Ryder - letting it all hang out.

If you don't know who Mitch Ryder is, you're of the generation that this accursed blog format was created for. If you do know, check back to see how long it is before "the Man" sees what I'm doing and shuts it down.

We are the tail end of the greatest generation, disappointed by the one that followed. The freedom for them for which we paved the way has been wasted upon John Hughes, Rubik's Cubes, Styx reunions and Rick Springfield. We are the ones who are ****ed by the 80's and anyone worshiping them. Rather than seeking survival by the tools of their folly, I choose to use it against them and anyone who believes civilization began with Boy George.

Take my hand, walk with me. Then find your own way home.

Subtitles be damned

There's a very cool Spanish flick opening in a few theaters Friday called The Orphanage. Of course the previews have it looking like the usual cat-jumps-out-of-the-closet scarefest that anyone under 40 thinks is movie (or DVD or video game) terror. That's how their disposable income gets wasted, putting more of a strain on our hard-earned retirement plans.

Anyway, it is produced and presented by Guillermo Del Toro, one of the few under-40s we can trust because he's foreign and didn't see all the s*** go down in America. Otherwise he'd be Quentin Tarantino, a sub-boomer I trusted until he strayed from his pre-Spielberg roots and started catering to the kids subsisting on Mommy and Daddy's allowances by sticking his name on junk like Hostel.

Del Toro liked what he saw about The Orphanage and I don't blame him. It's subtitled, so I don't think you'll have many cell phones going off or feet kicking your chair after the blankest generation gets tired of reading. God help us if movie audio ever gets pumped through iPods.

Briefly, The Orphanage is genuinely creepy, smartly so. It's Spain's official entry into the Oscars' foreign film competition and I fully expect it to be nominated.

I'll post a bit of my review tomorrow after it's finished. Until then, I have five passes (for 2 people each) to Thursday night's 7:30 p.m. screening at Veterans 24 in Tampa. You want 'em? You got 'em. Call me at 727-893-8365 and leave your name and phone number. Sooner the better. The sooner, we'll arrange an easy pickup plan. The later, you'll drive to pick them up at our St. Pete office.

That's another thing I got over during vacation: Trying to do everything easy for everyone else.

Yet another happy reader

No reply for this one. She's right about my "dark" preferences. And some folks don't like the f-word is usage or (for the really Puritanical types) in practice. I did like Enchanted, though, but not enough to bother telling "Helen:"

"I read and listened to your opinion on movies and find that you like the 'dark'.  There should be others who give opinions on "the rest of the stories".  On your advice, I went to the supposed great movie Gone Baby Gone...which was awful(in the opinion of most everyone in theater as we were leaving).  Actually I almost walked out 10 minutes into show...but as there was nothing else to do that day, stayed thinking it would get better....it didn't.  Not only was the movie in general bad....but it most likely could win Guiness (sp) Book record for how many times and how many ways the "F" word can be used.  So distracting was THE WORD that we hardly paid attention to movie....we try to count and lost track, since it was repeated numberous (sp) times in one 'sentence?'.

Now comes a movie such as August Rush, and you are blowing it off as too sugary.  Excuse me?!  Some people like wholesome.  Not everyone is a New York streetwise type person that feels life has to be the "F" raw type and movies to match.

We count on opinions from the newspaper.  But lately have ignored them....because the movies you like are the ones we don't usually go to. 

I'll bet you are going to stomp on Enchanted too!"

Another satisfied customer

Wanted to share more fan mail, in the same clunky style that it appeared to me. Then you'll see my reply. Enjoy!

The reader (maybe) speaks, in an e-mail titled "We have finally learned our lesson":

"Last night we sat through over 2 hours of "a waste of our time" watching "I'M NOT THERE". I know we could of walked out at any time, but we kept waiting for the A- to "kick in".   The four of us laughed all the way home and wondered who could of rated that movie a A-. Well will wonders never cease, this morning I got out the Weekend movie section and read that STEVE PERSALL rated it. If we would of known that,  we would not of gone to see it. If we listened to Mr, Persall in the past when he rated a movie C or below, we would of missed a lot of good movies, when he rates them higher, we should know by now NOT TO GO SEE THEM. All four of us know the story of Bob Dylan and the movie was still the WORSE!!!  The best thing the St. Pete times could do is give Mr. Persall a copy of the classified section to assist him in finding a new profession.  AW

My response, in an e-mail titled "More lessons to consider":

Dear AW: Thank you for your message. Always good to hear input from readers. A few things to consider, though:

Obviously you didn't read my review of I'm Not There, which wasn't published in Weekend but on Wednesday in Floridian when the film opened at Tampa Theatre. You probably took the easier route of reading the Film Clips brief to see a letter grade without concern for what thinking went into it. That's like buying a new car because it is a color you like, or voting for a candidate because he/she dresses nicely.

If you took time to read the review, you would have (not "would of," as you incorrectly use several times) noted statements such as:

"I’m Not There doesn’t even declare itself to be about Dylan, who has never been willing to admit who or what he is. Call him a poet or a preacher, the voice of a generation or a con for the masses and Dylan denies it all. Haynes can’t pin him down yet relentlessly tries, like a blindfolded man throwing darts."

Or this one:

"Certainly more than casual knowledge of Dylan’s career and varied disguises is necessary to know when Haynes nears the target. I’m Not There still contains something to stymie the most devoted Dylanphile, as anything he creates typically does."

And especially this one:

"I’m Not There isn’t the ultimate Dylan analysis, if such a thing could ever exist. Even better than description, Haynes’ film absorbs Dylan’s unpredictable nature, piling nonsense upon deep meaning and daring viewers to dig for it. Like its subject, it will frustrate some viewers, exhilarate others and leave everyone expecting more when so much has already been presented."

As far as your enjoyment of other movies I graded C or below: My sincere congratulations. I'm always pleased when folks have a good time at the movies, even if I didn't. Reviewing films isn't a cut-and-dried exercise because everyone has different tastes and levels of experience with the art form. After nearly 15 years in this job, I'll trust my instincts more than you distrust them.

You have my blessing to use me as a reverse barometer when selecting your choices, from best to worst (not "worse," as you noted).

Finally, I am personally confident that the Times (capital "T") will hand me a retirement check before any classified ads.

Good day, sir.

The In-Laws, outlaws and a grinch

Sorry I've been silent, but Thanksgiving and an early birthday present of Cabo Wabo -- with that, even Sammy Hagar is a pretty good singer -- and a few other distractions, kept me occupied. Foremost was a few days at one of the only surviving mom-and-pop motels on the Gulf Coast with Princess Di's family, and mine for Turkey Day.

Where do I begin? Maybe the fire pit nights (and early mornings) with XM, a steady liquid diet, and the nicest people with whom to spend a holiday. Not only my amazingly nice in-laws -- remind me to tell you about passing to the left at the dinner table sometime -- but other folks attracted by the flames like alcohol-soaked moths.

I enjoyed talking football until 3 a.m. like I haven't since leaving public school teaching and coaching,with guys from the Charlotte Warriors team of junior midgets (sounds redundant to me, too). A nicer bunch of barely teenage kids couldn't be found. Not at 3 a.m., of course. They had curfew. But their coaches and team parents were a lot of fun, and genuinely cared about the players like I'd want my kid's coaches to do.

There was also a woman from Pasco County who asked Wednesday night to warm up at the pit. She soon revealed that her 25-year-old daughter committed suicide by hanging last Thanksgiving Day. This was her getaway but you could tell she wasn't getting far. I wanted to invite her to our dozen-or-so T-day dinner, but didn't see her Thursday. Kind of put the whole idea of the holiday in perspective.

During one of my daily trips home to feed Mojo and Chili Palmer, the cat, I checked my office e-mail and found this message, the kind I often get when someone doesn't "get it." Maybe those coaches and that woman inspired my response:

Hello Steve:

My wife and I are not frequent movie goers but tonight based on your, and Colette Brancroft's (sp), ratings we went to see "No Country for Old Men". Were you both asleep when you screened this movie or are film critics these days enjoying "freebies for kudos" like some restaurant reviewers are known to do?  Too bad!

My reply:

Hello ------. Sorry you didn't appreciate the movie; perhaps if you were a frequent moviegoer your perspective would be enhanced. I certainly do not appreciate your suggestion of unethical actions by me or my colleagues. Judging movies isn't a true/false test. There are no clear-cut answers for everybody, and the wisest moviegoers realize that. Resorting to such a cheap shot on Thanksgiving Day sort of defeats the whole idea of the holiday, doesn't it? Hope Christmas is happier for you. Too bad, indeed.

Steve

Monday morning update:

Received this e-reply:

Hi Steve:

Your e-mail caused me to read some other reviews of "no country for.." - I guess I missed the main point of the flick and I owe you an apology. Furthermore, my comments about "freebies" was a cheap shot. Sorry about that and I appreciate you taking the time to answer. All the best for the up-coming holiday season. ------

Very classy. Thanks.

Rod Lurie responds to "Resurrecting" a chump

This doesn't usually happen, which is why I want to share with you. Soon after I posted my feelings today about Resurrecting the Champ (opening Aug.24), the film's writer-director Rod Lurie e-mailed a response.

Lurie, a former print and radio film critic in Los Angeles, disagreed with more grace and sincerity than anyone would expect from a Hollywood guy. He requested that his original message would be off-the-record and in an e-exchange we agreed it would remain that way.

He did compose something for the blog, though -- again, an above-and-beyond effort -- that follows:

////

"Hi Steve:

 

Okay, I get what you say and I understand the gripe (though your criticism seems to be more a defense of your profession than an attack on the artistry of the film).  As I was working on this project, my producers and I were always worried that there might be some journalists who took offense to "Resurrecting" - that they might see it as an attack on their life's mission.  But I can't concur.

 

I was in the newspaper and magazine business for many years.  I began my adult life as an Army officer and then proceeded to being an entertainment journalist and investigative crime reporter.  My father was and is a political cartoonist and correspondent.  I have lived among journalists all my life and I have a love for what I think is the most noble profession in the world.  Indeed, "All the President's Men" first  made me want to be a journalist and then it made me want to be a film maker.

 

The odd and ironic thing is that I believe "Resurrecting the Champ" is an ode to the profession.

 

This is a movie about a man who comes up against a gigantic journalistic dilemma (by the way, thank you for not giving away the film's twist) and about his attempt to redeem himself. Its a story about a group of professionals who did not try to cover up the scandal created by the character of Erik. Indeed, Erik's editors take on full responsibility for what has happened. In how many worlds would you see that happen?  We (I still consider myself a part of the journo world) are the most self-policing profession that exists.  Look at how the various media outlets responded to the journo scandals of the past years: Blair, Glass, Cooke, Miller, and so on... The New York Times, the Washington Post, The New Republic all went into mea culpa mode.

 

I think, in the end, "Champ" says a lot about the integrity of the media.

 

And you are right on target with Sam Jackson.  The man deserves an Oscar for this film. It is his Ratso Rizzo."

(end of message)

I thanked Lurie and said although his first (and less filtered) message didn't change my opinion much, I would re-read my review with a clearer perspective.

For my part, I wish more filmmakers had Lurie's initiative and class. Audiences would benefit from that.

Now, now, leave Sean Daly alone

Last week's post on Tampa Bay Buccaneers running back -- nay, legend -- Mike Alstott mentioned an unfortunate comment about the A-Train by Times pop music critic Sean Daly.

Although I cannot entirely forgive Sean for blaspheming our local hero -- the guy's from Washington, for heaven's sake, where football heroes dress like George Clinton for interviews -- I can't allow any more reader harassment of the only person in our department whose hat size exceeds mine.

Ever a trooper, Sean said I could share this example:

"Did you see A-Train at a show? Did he not give you the respect you thought you should get? Awwwwwwwww, after all you are a critic for a newspaper! How dare he not satisfy your needs! Therefore he MUST BE A JERK!  Didn't he know you are big-time? you write abut Drake & Josh FOR GODS SAKE!!! How dare he. Come to a city......slam one of the cities icons......thats great......smart thinking. What next? Move to Denver, and say (John) Lynch is a d---?"

I can attest that Mr. Daly is less disturbed by such comments than he is wrong about the A-Train. Now back off my boy.

Mail call: Post-Lightning sale edition

Just some e-mails after today's story (you can read a bit in an earlier post) on Oren Koules, one of the Tampa Bay Lightning's new owners and co-producer of the Saw horror movie series:

Steve:
   Whoa. I understand that editors parceled out hockey stories to staffers across their areas of interest to package some Lightning-purchase pieces. And you, of course, did the Oren Koules angle.
   But that said -- as well as morality-tale rationales for why anyone over the age of 15 watches gratuitously gory stuff like "Saw" & what Charlie Chaplin and Jigsaw have in common -- you really over-extended yourself here to accommodate a hockey theme.
   "Fans feel the same ecstatic gut spasm when Brad Richards blindsides a opponent into the boards as gorehounds do when Jason Voorhees -- the maniac wearing a hockey mask in the Friday the 13th series -- sinks a chainsaw into copulating campers." What? Hockey is part artistry on skates and part violent collision sport. But a body check into the boards (by Richards of all people) analogy with a gruesome slasher murder? Did you even re-read that sentence?
   Your credibility took a hit with your take on Blair Witch. This, however, more than rivals it.
Sincerely,
Joe O'Neill

Then there was this one:

   I loved your column today about a "Saw" for the Bolts' toolbox. The best line, though was you closer about the Hockey Horror Picture Show. That was sublime!
-- Beth Di Roma

And this one:

   Absolutely can't stand his Saw movies. Tasteless crap. Totally agree with you. I wish the Lightning the best of luck but if one inference of "Saw" is used in advertising or promoting the team I'm gone.
-- Jerry Blomgren

Theaters of Pain redux

I've had readers tell me about rats crawling over their feet, strange smells, lights that aren't dim enough and employees dimmer than they should be.

Now it's your turn to gripe about your worst movie theater experiences.

Was it the poorly focused projector, the stale popcorn or sticky floors that made you swear you'd never go to a theater again? Maybe it was that loud gaggle of zit-faced teenagers auditioning for Mystery Science Theater 3000. Or the old coot behind you who recognized the kind of car someone drove on screen and can't wait until after the show to tell everyone. Cell phone rudeness almost deserves it own special complaint box.

Get it off your chest and onto this blog. Be specific about where and when your experience happened, and what -- if anything -- the management did to correct it. I believe making such problems and enablers publicly accountable can make a difference, as it did last year when I wrote a column about lousy projection at AMC Veterans 24 and the company's biggest cheese apologized and a few heads rolled or at least got slapped.

Let's hold these folks' feet to the fire and see if they sizzle.

I've had readers tell me about rats crawling over their feet, strange smells, lights that aren't dim enough and employees dimmer than they should be.

Now it's your turn to gripe about your worst movie theater experiences.

Was it the poorly focused projector, the stale popcorn or sticky floors that made you swear you'd never go to a theater again? Maybe it was that loud gaggle of zit-faced teenagers auditioning for Mystery Science Theater 3000. Or the old coot behind you who recognized the kind of car someone drove on screen and can't wait until after the show to tell everyone. Cell phone rudeness almost deserves it own special complaint box.

Get it off your chest and onto this blog. Be specific about where and when your experience happened, and what -- if anything -- the management did to correct it. I believe making such problems and enablers publicly accountable can make a difference, as it did last year when I wrote a column about lousy projection at AMC Veterans 24 and the company's biggest cheese apologized and a few heads rolled or at least got slapped.

Let's hold these folks' feet to the fire and see if they sizzle.

What's your favorite movie freak out?

Caught a neat little British comedy last night titled Death at a Funeral (opening June 29, probably not in many theaters). Had a nice surprise when I recognized an American face in the cast, adding a very funny performance.

Alan Tudyk, left, is from Texas but he puts on a pretty good British accent. My wife and I met him a few years ago at the Sarasota Film Festival, grabbing smokes outside a posh party where everyone inside was sidling up to Woody Harrelson for some reason. Didn't even know he was an actor until late in our hour-long conversation.

When Alan said he was in A Knight's Tale, it clicked. He was one of Heath Ledger's sidekicks in that odd flick. Later he was Pirate Steve in Dodgeball, and provided the voice for the evil robot trying to kill Will Smith in I, Robot. (Another chatter on the terrace was his Dodgeball co-star Justin Long, who went on to become the Mac advocate in those funny computer commercials.)

Anyway, Death at a Funeral casts Alan as someone accidentally dosed with a hallucinogenic designer drug. He's hilarious, from the initial fascination with how green the estate landscaping is, to being totally nude on the roof, pondering whatever trippers ponder.

Got me wondering, so I thought I'd ask here: What are your favorite drug-induced movie freakouts? Any drug will do, as long as the results are memorable.

To prime the pump, I'll suggest two that immediately come to mind: Peter Fonda going over the edge (along with the movie) in The Trip, and Ellen Burstyn thinking her refrigerator wants to eat her in Requiem for a Dream.

Feel feel to add your choices. It's your happening, baby and it should freak you out.

Theaters of Pain

I've had readers tell me about rats crawling over their feet, strange smells, lights that aren't dim enough and employees dimmer than they should be.

Now it's your turn to gripe about your worst movie theater experiences.

Was it the poorly focused projector, the stale popcorn or sticky floors that made you swear you'd never go to a theater again? Maybe it was that loud gaggle of zit-faced teenagers auditioning for Mystery Science Theater 3000. Or the old coot behind you who recognized the kind of car someone drove on screen and can't wait until after the show to tell everyone. Cell phone rudeness almost deserves it own special complaint box.

Get it off your chest and onto this blog. Be specific about where and when your experience happened, and what -- if anything -- the management did to correct it. I believe making such problems and enablers publicly accountable can make a difference, as it did last year when I wrote a column about lousy projection at AMC Veterans 24 and the company's biggest cheese apologized and a few heads rolled or at least got slapped.

Let's hold these folks' feet to the fire and see if they sizzle.

"Fan mail from some flounder?"

Bullwinkle, in case you were wondering about the title quote.

Nothing stokes readers' computer keyboards faster than a negative review of a movie they've been dying to see.

Case in point: Pirates of the Caribbean: At Wit's World's End. A more discombobulated pile of dreck is hard to find but that didn't stop one reader (who shall remain anonymous) to send this a day after my D-grade review:

"As a family we were relieved to read your review when we opened the paper yesterday. Now that we know what you think of it my family is even more excited to see it."

I don't mind being a reverse barometer for anyone. But I hate presumption of quality, especially about movies, especially before the presumer sees the movies to assure himself that I'm wrong. So, I replied with a breezy "always glad to be of service," followed by a reminder that Pirates 1 made my top-10 list and I was one of the few critics to give high marks (A- grade) to Pirates 2. If anyone had high hopes for Pirates 3, it would be me, making the movie's drudgery and incomprehensibility more irritating.

And, if I'm such a dependable reverse barometer, wouldn't my high opinions of parts 1 and 2 mean that the message poster didn't like those movies? If so, why would he be so eager to see At World's End?

You gotta love logical people, and those who aren't.

I look forward to learning which of this blog's visitors are in the latter camp.