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Take a break from work: watch a trailer… Really? Should we just write, right here, the scene at the end of the second act in which Emilie de Ravin discovers that Robert Pattinson was arrested by her father and she’s heartbroken because it means that he was only using her to get to her dad, … more…
Will there be a bigger disappointment for me this year than Spike Jonze’s *Where the Wild Things Are*? Gosh, I hope not: I’m not sure my heart could take it.
The music swells over the moment of victory, tears run freely down my face, fade to black, movie over. And I want to sob even longer and harder. Usually the rolling credits and the lights coming up in this kind of situation means a letup in the girly crying, but not this time. There’s something else going on besides the usual Oscar-baiting, triumph-of-the-human-and-equine-spirit shrink-wrapped Gourmet Film.
I should probably watch Being John Malkovich again before I try to write this. I’ve got the DVD here somewhere. It’s vitally important that I watch BJM again right now. I could just put it on for a while. I could write while I’m watching it. I can do that.
Was American Beauty the single best film of 1999? I can’t decide. The second time I watched the film, on a widescreen video screener after it won the Oscar for Best Picture, I thought with horror: I named this sitcom one of my best films of the year? On a third viewing, also on the small screen, I saw once again all the brilliance that I saw the first time around, and more.
The Lester that American Beauty offers us at first is anything but inspirational — in fact, he may be one of the most unlikable protagonists to hit the screen in a while. A ‘horny geek boy,’ as his teenage daughter calls him, a ‘gigantic loser’ as he calls himself, Lester tells us right as the film opens that he’ll be dead in less than a year. And we don’t care.
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