It's coming up on a year since I last updated, so I suppose it's time to pronounce ontheaisle officially dead.

As I never really gave up hope that I'd be inspired to catch up, I had been logging the movies I watched since that last post (give or take a few titles that may have fallen through the cracks), so I'm just going to put the list here. I've annotated it somewhat to give this a point beyond link-dumping; starred titles come highly recommended, and x's indicate stuff I wouldn't subject my worst enemy to.

Though I'm about to lose the majority of my free time to a fairly intense graduate school schedule, I hope to preserve some of the spirit of this journal over in my main LJ account by writing a bit about some of the films I manage to sneak in between papers, so if you've enjoyed what you've read here, you might want to stop in there every once in a while. All movie-related posts in the main journal can be found here.

Thanks for reading and commenting over these past four years. It's been a treat.

Best,
keever



( On to the list! )

Yeah, I suck. Moving on...

March 9th - August 23rd:

The Holiday: Kate Winslet + Jack Black in cute mode + home interior set design porn + lazy afternoon with free movie channels = just enough incentive to tolerate two hours of Cammy Diaz. If you can get past the absurdity of casting Winslet as a desperate plain girl, it's not terrible as these sorts of contrivances go (even if the ending is a bigger ball of cheese than has ever been stocked by Hickory Farms).

Becoming Jane: I'm tempted to just point you to this and be done. Yes, dramatic license, blah blah blah, but grafting a third rate Austenesque plot onto the real woman's life and then suggesting that it was the direct inspiration for one of the greatest novels in the English language is an insult to her extraordinary imagination. Almost as objectionable is the way this movie somehow manages to suck the charm right out of James McAvoy, a feat I heretofore hadn't believed possible. Dull, dull, dull.

Bridge to Terabithia: I was a kid who loved a tearjerking novel, so I'm not sure how I managed never to read the book. I guess I'm glad I didn't though, because it gave me the opportunity to have my guts lightly twisted by this film version. It's really lovely, with an old fashioned feel that extends from the script to the tastefully spare visual effects to the performances by the lead kids, who are refreshingly free of cutesiness. Really nicely done.

The Darjeeling Limited: I keep thinking every next Wes Anderson movie is going to be the one in which the contents of his well-worn bag of tricks fails to please me, and it keeps not happening. Sure, the symbolism in this one is obvious and the whole white guys rediscovering themselves amongst the brown-skinned others thing is tired, but I suspect that's the intended reaction -- the characters are obvious, tired people after all. But I was moved anyway, by Owen Wilson in particular. He broke my heart a bit, and I liked it.

Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street: Unfortunately, I think it's Tim Burton's bag of tricks that's losing its appeal for me, because this was pretty disappointing. I found it flat visually; the monotone made the bright red blood pop, but in between murders, it was just plain murky. It might have resonated more had there been any social context to the characters' misery, as without it, they just seemed like garden variety goths, which stopped being interesting in high school. But at least Johnny Depp remains worth my time.

Dan in Real Life: Steve Carell owes me one for this. In fact, he owes me double for being the reason I willfully subjected myself to a movie I knew full well had (shudder) Dane Cook in it. Carell is fine as always, but the plot is of the only-in-the-movies variety, and he can't fix that. At least I got some unintentional laughs out of the silly activities Dan's family partakes in. Each one is so much more white bread than the next that the movie could pass for an adaptation of an old textbook on Americana.

Forgetting Sarah Marshall: It took a while for Jason Segel to get called up from the Freaks and Geeks alum minors, but it was worth the wait. This isn't quite as laugh out loud funny as some of the other Apatow-produced features, but it has a sweeter, gentler humor that I liked. Russell Brand steals all the scenes he's in; I'll be interested to see him play someone other than himself someday. I also really liked Mila Kunis, an actress I'd never really paid any attention to before. More roles for her please, Hollywood!

Enchanted: I'm generally looked at as some kind of heartless bitch when I say this, but we're all friends here, so I feel comfortable admitting this: with very few exceptions, I hate Disney movies. Had I known this wasn't quite the biting satire of said movies I was hoping for, I lost interest fairly quickly, but stuck with it all the way through its predictable ending. Sorry, Amy Adams. Not sorry, Patrick Dempsey. I still think you suck.

Sex and the City: When it was first announced, I thought a film version of the TV show was a bad idea, but the hype machine eventually brought me around. My initial reaction was right, unfortunately. The script is poor, filled with romcom clichés and dumbed down material that never would have flown on the series. After two and a half hours, I walked out of the theater with a numb butt and a lesser opinion of pretty much everyone involved.

4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days: Not as brutally tough to watch as it was made out to be, but not quite as earth-shakingly great, either. This is not to diminish its considerable achievements, however; it's ridiculous that it didn't progress beyond the shortlist for Foreign Language Film last year. The continuous shots draw you in without calling too much attention to themselves, and the lead performance is remarkable. A very solid, weighty suspense film.

Into the Wild: A lot better than I expected. I was prepared for a fawning portrait of a young man who was so courageous leave the trappings of an insincere society behind for the realness of nature and blah blah barf, but was glad to find something a little more complex. I liked the non-linear storytelling and the varied styles of cinematography. And it's chock full of good supporting performances. Yes, Hal Holbrook made me cry.

The Diving Bell and the Butterfly: I've reached my lifetime limit of triumph of the human spirit over medical adversity stories, so I was only in this one for the much-ballyhooed visuals. There is some very pretty stuff to be sure, and the early one-eyed POV shots are definitely like nothing I'd seen before. But I couldn't engage with it emotionally at all, and so had trouble getting through it without breaks for boredom. But better that than schmaltzy, I suppose.

The Heart of the Game: The last movie I saw before my free movie channels went bye-bye. The timing was good, because though it sat in my Netflix queue for a long time, a documentary about basketball was never realistically going to make it to the top of the queue, and that would have been a shame. Maybe it was just my mood at the time, but I got completely caught up in the story of the girl at the center, empathizing and raging at all the right moments. Nothing special technically, but it knows that and doesn't care, and neither should you.

Persepolis: Any worries I had about the books' beautifully subtle black and white art not translating into engaging animation were dispelled pretty much immediately. I never doubted the story's potential to be successful in cinematic form, though; my only complaint is that there wasn't more of it. I'm always going to choose subtitles over an English dub, but I had to go back and watch a couple of the Uncle Anoosh scenes just to hear Iggy Pop's voicework, which is pretty much as cool as you would hope it would be.

In Bruges: Bloody. Fantastic. Given that it's from Martin McDonagh, it's hardly surprising that it feels like a good play: chaotic plot turns neatly structured, with serious themes presented by excellent actors through thoughtfully-written witty dialogue. Brendan Gleeson's performance is my favorite of the year so far, and Colin Farrell's is nothing to sneeze at, either. Absolutely unmissable if you like black comedies.

The Dark Knight: No, Christopher Nolan still hasn't learned how to film action sequences that don't leave you disoriented, and one of them is so obviously there just to look cool in 3D that those of us who puke just walking into IMAX theaters may have our patience tried a little there towards the end. But it all feels so much more disturbingly real than any other comic book franchise, and that makes Heath Ledger's legend-worthy Joker (and by contrast, Gary Oldman's sweet Gordon) all the more affecting. Made for a fun summer afternoon.

Because I fell so dreadfully behind and am pressed for time as it is, I'm going to break with the usual paragraph-based format and just post some quick impressions of what I've seen over these past seven (yikes!) weeks.

January 19th - March 8th:

The Simpsons Movie: I've never been a rabid fan of the show, and this did nothing to change that. Diverting enough, like a super-long episode.

Sunshine: Good cast, and frequently very pretty to look at, but gets derailed by a dumb plot turn obviously designed to add Big Ideas to the story and definitely doesn't produce the desired effect. Nevertheless, doesn't decrease my interest in future Danny Boyle projects.

A Mighty Heart: Despite knowing how the real life story (unfortunately) turns out, it's almost unbearably tense, leading up to a moment that's a definite high point in Angelina Jolie's career; she's fantastic. How the hell does Michael Winterbottom turn out such varied movies with so much skill?

Sicko: Didn't really teach me anything about the health care crisis I didn't already know, but as is usual with Michael Moore films, it fired me up a bit but mostly left me depressed. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to move to France.

3:10 to Yuma: I hate Westerns, but I love Christian Bale. It's totally fun to see him engage in a battle of wills against Russell Crowe. The ending is a bit of a stretch, but I was willing to go with it because of the strength of what came before it. Excellent supporting cast, the standout being the always delightfully weird Ben Foster. Much less dull than I feared it would be.

Stardust: Silly, somewhat clever fantasy fun, though maybe not as bursting with those qualities as I thought it might be given how often I saw it called "refreshing." I'm still waiting for Claire Danes to be good as anyone other than Angela Chase.

Gone Baby Gone: In the battle of Lehane novel adaptations ("is that mah daaaauuugghter in theeeeeerrree!?!?!?!" = ugh), the clear winner in my book. Amy Ryan acts the hell out of that little role, making the last scene in particular really stick. Looking forward to whatever Ben Affleck directs next.

Across the Universe: The plot has all the sophistication of a short story written by your average fourteen-year-old, but when it's all just an excuse for the visual interest, who cares? Me, it turns out. Sometimes interesting, more often cringe-inducingly horrible. A couple of nice performances and voices (and songs, of course) but nothing much else to recommend it.

There Will Be Blood: A hammy Daniel Day-Lewis outweirds Ben Foster by several orders of magnitude. Sometimes I loved it and sometimes I found it what I think was unintentionally hilarious, but I was never, ever bored. Still, I liked young Dillon Freasier's performance more than the one that won the Oscar, Jonny Greenwood's excellent score does more than its fair share of the storytelling, and its sheer audacity directs away from how little it really has to say.

Michael Clayton: Here's where George Clooney clicked for me as an actor. Fantastic script, excellent performances (including Tom Wilkinson's, which plays much better in context than in clips), award-worthy cinematography. The Best Picture nominee I was the least interested in seeing, and so the best surprise of my pre-Academy Awards binge. Loved it.

In the Valley of Elah: Worth it for Tommy Lee Jones and little else. With the exception of the eye-roller of a last scene, it's more subtle than most Paul Haggis projects, but that's hardly saying much. I hereby resolve not to subject myself to another one.

No Country for Old Men: Not an easy watch for me because of my low tolerance for violence, but still mostly worth it. Surprisingly funny in places, with many nice turns of phrase. Tommy Lee Jones -- and pretty much everyone else (not so fast, Woody Harrelson) -- is excellent, again. Re: the controversial ending: It's perfect. I'm almost a Coen brothers fan now.

The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford: The early train robbery scene is one of the most beautifully photographed things you'll ever see, but unless you're interested in the Jesse James legend, the runtime makes it a challenge. My attention wavered, but was held more than I'd anticipated, both by scenery and story. Casey Affleck is starting to grow on me, but Brad Pitt still sucks.

The Business of Being Born: A gentle polemic. Will be of interest to anyone remotely interested in women's health, and is a must watch if the hypermedicalization of birth at all troubles you. Better production values and more skillful direction than most grassroots projects.

Lie with Me: Occasionally evocative and interestingly shot, but mostly undone by a vacant wafer of a lead actress and embarrassing "poetic" voiceover (note to filmmakers: it almost never works). I don't think he can help it, but even when Eric Balfour is playing a moment where he's a nice guy, he still kind of creeps me with his resemblance to Lucifer.

Death at a Funeral: Not as funny as I was hoping, sadly. (Poo jokes? Really?) Good for Alan Tudyk fans, and people who think they might be disposed to becoming Alan Tudyk fans. Nice performance by Matthew Macfadyen; liked this a lot more than his Mr. Darcy.

Back from a hey-I-was-busy hiatus with a big catch up post! I should be back to updating weekly going forward.

December 8th - January 19th:

It was early December when I saw December Boys, which, although appropriate, means that I've unfortunately forgotten quite a lot about it. What I do remember: sometimes beautiful cinematography that made me long for the beach, nice Daniel Radcliffe performance, kids that were cute without being too cutesy, and an unabashedly sentimental ending that worked on me despite myself. It's totally unoffensive, but not necessarily worth seeking out unless you have a particular affinity for Australian film, adoption stories, or just want a mental vacation to someplace warm.

I hadn't heard of Lost and Delirious until it was singled out for a mention in Bitch Magazine a while back, but since they've pointed me towards some good overlooked films in the past, I checked it out when I ran across it on TV. I was too tired to watch it all in one go, but though it was so very earnest and obviously heading towards an overwrought conclusion, I came back to see it through, mostly because of the ferocity of Piper Perabo's performance. I'd seen her in other things, but this was the only time she'd ever made any impression on me. Ultimately, the movie's not very good, and really, I guess technically, the performance isn't either, but she does make it all weirdly compelling.

Man, those first fifteen minutes of Juno had me worried. They were so aggressively, calculatedly hip that I was sure I had another awards season ahead of me in which I was one of the few people who disliked the much-hyped, much-loved front-running indie in the race. But hooray! I was soon relieved as it eventually backed up its quirks with actual characterization, Ellen Page was indeed that good, the ensemble was uniformly terrific, and it genuinely made me cry at the end. And thus was I saved from being called heartless and contrarian on the Internet for at least another year! Nice.

I found La Vie en Rose so frustrating that I struggled to get through all of it. While I appreciate the impulse to mix it up in a mini-genre that's become so clichéd it now has a major motion picture skewering it, resorting to cinematography so muddy you have to squint just to figure out what's going on in some scenes and a timeline that jumps around madly for no reason I could glean isn't a great way to do it. Marion Cotillard's storied mimicry is impressive, as is the makeup that ages her, but it's all so histrionic as to be off-putting and ultimately uninteresting. I actually liked the children who played the younger Piaf, but one cleverly-staged scene aside, they're about the only thing here I did.

Though I'm a big Todd Haynes fan, the mixed reviews and my general lack of interest in Bob Dylan had me dragging myself to I'm Not There. So it's all the more impressive (and gratifying) that what I got was the most exhilarating evening at the movie theater I'd had in months. It was a visceral viewing experience: even though I knew I was missing some of the references the Dylan and Godard fans were getting, the music got under my skin, the visuals were thrilling, and even when everything was really out there, I was transfixed. Believe the Cate Blanchett hype, for sure. This film is a huge leap forward in Haynes's already remarkable career. I love his amazing brain.

Honestly, I could just link to Anthony Lane's astute (and warning: somewhat spoilery) review of Atonement and be done with it. I enjoyed the first act immensely, and was entirely let down by the rest of it. Beyond some of that gorgeous early stuff, there is just no subtlety in Joe Wright's direction at all, sometimes to the point of being unintentionally humorous. The much-ballyhooed long tracking shot does nothing but draw attention to how pointlessly showy and yet not particularly impressive it is. Beyond the costumes and James McAvoy's performance in the letter-writing scene in particular, there's not much I'll remember in a good way.

It's been a while since a movie gave me goosebumps, but This Is England managed it. There isn't an aspect of it that isn't worthy of praise, but I'll single out the acting and the cinematography in particular. But mostly, what stands out is how powerful and deeply felt it all is. It's very involving almost immediately, and that pays off in a powerful ending that is no less affecting for having been inevitable. I'm really interested in working back through Shane Meadows' other films now. I only wish his kind of British film got a fraction of the kind of unwarranted attention something like Atonement receives.

I like Sarah Polley as an actress, so I was really interested to see what she'd do as Away from Her's writer/director. Though I didn't like it as much as the critics generally seem to have, it wasn't bad. My main issue was with the script, which suffers for having passages of the short story turned into dialogue that sounds awkwardly literary. It also drags a bit in the middle, and then comes to a fairly abrupt conclusion. I'm also not sure I see what the big to do is about Julie Christie's certainly adequate performance, but I did really like some of the supporting cast. Mostly, I was grateful for a take on Alzheimer's that avoided most of the usual tired illness movie pitfalls.

Though objectively I can understand what people love about Pixar films, their supposedly tremendous charm tends to elude me. I have liked the ones with the stronger plots, but I don't think Ratatouille is one of those, so I only got some mild enjoyment out of it. There are some strong themes at play, but I think there are also too many of them, and the story gets a bit muddled as a result. It doesn't help that the main rodent character is far more interesting than the main human character, either. There are some lovely moments both character-wise and visually, but overall, I think I'd have rather seen Finding Nemo again.

I decided before I watched Eastern Promises that if, as with A History of Violence, I was underwhelmed, this would be the last Cronenberg film I'd grit my teeth through. It looks like I'm going to have to keep working on my tolerance for graphic (but plot-appropriate, non-gratuitous) violence, because this one was definitely worth enduring. Viggo Mortensen's interesting performance is nomination-worthy; it's nice to see him playing increasingly diverse roles. The story went to places that surprised me without leaving me feeling needlessly manipulated, which I'm finding an increasingly rare experience. Really well done.

November 3rd - December 8th:

After a long period of easy distractablility during which my Netflix queue was dominated by TV series discs, Paris, je t'aime, with its collection of 18 films each about the length of an extended music video, was the logical choice with which to ease myself back into movies. As to be expected, it was a hit and miss affair, but the misses were few and fairly painless to endure because they were so short. (The exception: the one with the mimes, which those who similarly react to them with visceral horror should speed right through -- you won't be missing much.) My favorites were directed by Gurinder Chadha, Walter Salles, Isabel Coixet, Oliver Schmitz, and Alexander Payne. Anyone who's fallen in love with a city might find themselves in tears of recognition at the end of Payne's. Overall, a good sampler of some occasionally very interesting work.

As much as Freaks and Geeks earns Judd Apatow and company a pretty much eternal pass from me, and though I've enjoyed his last few projects quite a bit, I've begun to grow a bit weary of the surrounding hype. It's why, despite the good reviews, I gave Superbad a pass in the theaters and even worried it might make for a slightly tedious rental. Happily, I really enjoyed it, maybe even more than Knocked Up. I've yet not to feel for a character played by Michael Cera, who amuses in usual fashion. That the whole plot unfolds over a 24-hour period gives the story a tightness and a heightened sense of meaning that pays off nicely in a surprisingly deeply-felt conclusion. I'll remember that even after I've forgotten all the McLovin jokes.

October 27th - November 3rd:

It must be a mood: another week, another foray into recent French film, this one thankfully more successful than the last. But really, what kind of risk is the light, sweet, well-reviewed My Best Friend? And okay, it's light, sweet, well-reviewed, and overly contrived, but damn it, it worked for me. Maybe it's that I have a fondness for movies about friendship, or maybe Dany Boon makes his character just that easy to root for, but even as I was thinking about how ridiculous the climax was, I was enjoying it. It helps that running beneath the silliness is what I think is an honest, not entirely sunny assessment of relationships that saves it from being an eyeroller. It made for a nice afternoon's diversion.

As someone who thinks London Calling might just be the best rock album ever, I've been looking forward to Joe Strummer: The Future is Unwritten all year. And as I am also a someone who lives in New York City, I was lucky enough to get to see it on its first day in release in the U.S., which was also my birthday. What a present this was. Watching it is like flipping through an overstuffed scrapbook at a really great wake. Julien Temple's imaginative direction really brings the archival and interview footage to life. He deftly assembles it into a complex, compelling narrative that freakin' rocks. And thanks for not holding back on the volume, IFC Center projectionist! I can't see how this wouldn't make a list of my top five movies of 2007.

October 6th - October 27th:

I've recently become enamored of the television show that's based on the book that also spawned the identically-named movie Friday Night Lights. Remembering how well it was reviewed and figuring that I'd at least enjoy comparing and contrasting the different versions, I rented it. Unfortunately, that only got me through about the running time of one TV episode, after which I was only marginally paying attention. The movie requires more interest in football than does the show, which already tends to exceed my tolerance for the sport. But I am grateful to it for establishing some creative elements (cinematography, music) that have carried over nicely and given the program an unusually cinematic feel.

Though I made a mental note to get out and see Red Road last year after reading good things about it in press around last year's festivities at Cannes, I managed to just miss it in theaters. Having now seen it on DVD, I wish even more I'd supported it at the box office, because while far from perfect, it's just the kind of thing I like to throw dollars at: woman-directed, centered on a female character who has concerns beyond her love life, and unafraid to take some risks. That central risky plot twist is kind of ridiculous, but it enables a nice resolution that's made even better by the impressive performance of the leads. Plus, it just looks interesting, all dark and shadowy. One of the more involving movies I've seen recently.

I've had a resurgent interest in theatre of late, and I generally enjoy any kind of "making of" sort of documentary about the arts, so I expected I'd like Show Business: The Road to Broadway. But I was surprised by how much it sucked me in, something I attribute to the director's keen sense of what makes a good story, with clever editing to support it. Especially smart is the inclusion of the dreaded critics, whose bitchiness injects some delicious villainy. Even though I knew how that particular Broadway season sorted out down to which of the musicals won the Tony, I was still caught up in the suspense. It's a terrific movie that I hope more people discover.

Ang Lee has directed so many films I genuinely adore that it's hard for me to be too upset by how disappointed I was by Lust, Caution; even if he makes a few more than move me as little as this one did, he's still got a damn impressive track record. Contrary to most of the critics, who have repeatedly cited the supposedly slow pace as the deal-breaker, I found the relatively more action-packed thrilleresque sections the least interesting. I just don't think what apparently made the short story it's adapted from so beloved works stretched this thin. I did like the performances, but a few interesting moments aside, they were all that really stood out for me.

Control is, at last, a musical biopic that dares to break from the tedious mold of so much recent Oscarbait. It looks gorgeous, with so many shots composed like interesting photographs that there were a few times I wished they'd stop the projector and let us just look at the frame for a while. Sam Riley gives a natural performance that feels like a damn good interpretation rather than an overly studied impression. And there is no attempt to lionize Ian Curtis as a misunderstood, tragic genius. Instead, we get a portrait of a sensitive, talented kid in over his head, and the movie is all the more interesting for it. As refreshing as a movie that ends on a suicide can possibly be.

I don't quite know why, but frequently, when I can't decide what I'm in the mood to watch, I find myself calling up an arty French film from the bowels of my Netflix queue. Sometimes that leads me to something great like Caché or Belle de Jour, but sometimes, it nets me more regrettable fare like Friday Night. It bored the pajama pants off of me, and I'm someone who has a high tolerance for dreamy movies about next to nothing. Occasional forays into slightly whimsical fantasy territory were too few. They don't all have to be grandly Jeunet-like, but maybe I'd have disliked the movie less had they been any more than just a tease.

September 1st - October 6th:

It probably didn't help that it took Netflix three tries to get me a disc that would play all the way through, but I found Stephanie Daley frustrating. I think this is me getting foiled by high expectations again, but I don't think I can be blamed for anticipating something memorable from such a highly praised film, particularly one that stars the excellent Tilda Swinton and the solid Amber Tamblyn. Both do give decent performances. But between the all too obvious attempts at forcing connections between their characters and the overly muted emotions, it's all a bit distancing. It's not that I would have preferred the melodrama it easily could have been, but I would like to have felt something more than I did.

There's no shortage of angst in Still, We Believe: The Boston Red Sox Movie, but pre-"curse"-reversing Boston baseball wouldn't be recognizable without it. I doubt anyone who didn't live through the ultimate heartbreak that was the 2003 season would bother with this now, but I think it could be interesting viewing for those interested in the particular phenomenon that is Red Sox Nation. It does such a good job of capturing the pain of a beloved team's defeat through the eyes of a set of well-chosen diehards that it might be unbearable for even non-fans to watch without the knowledge that sweet redemption was only a year away.

I applaud Michael Winterbottom for taking a chance on the experiment in real, raw sexuality that is 9 Songs. But while I think there's more to it than the many who dismissed it as nothing more than porn interspersed with concert footage, there's really not all that much more. You do get a sense of who these people are, but in the annoying female lead's case, that's not really a good thing. Not to be outdone, her other half's pseudo-deep narration is trite, and the grand metaphor it's attempting to sell is just silly. But hey, it's occasionally quite hot and often beautifully composed, so there are definitely worse things you could stare at for seventy minutes.

I normally make a point of steering clear of movies centered around oh-so-quirkily disabled characters, but damn it, Alan Rickman is in Snow Cake, so of course I had to rent it. As I slid it into the DVD player, I consoled myself with the thought that said afflicted character was played by Sigourney Weaver, who is generally a smart actor. But the best I can say about her turn as an autistic woman is that she's not embarrassing herself in every scene. The icy Canadian setting is shot nicely. And Rickman is, as usual, good. But it's all just so dull and plodding that even he can't save it.

July 28th - September 1st:

By this point, late in the hot, hot summer, my brain is usually so thoroughly melted that I know better than to attempt anything much more strenuous than a romantic comedy. So because it was August and I have lots of affection for Jennifer Garner, I ordered up Catch and Release. That I don't like her any less after sitting through this piece of junk is a testament to her charm, because wow, is this movie bad. The wedding-becomes-a-funeral angle that I thought might have potential leads nowhere interesting. I'd probably have wondered why some of the characters do the inexplicable things they do if I could have found any reason to care. Feh.

I also like Rupert "Ron Weasley" Grint a heck of a lot, and I like his Potter co-star Julie Walters even more, so I was looking forward to seeing them play off each other in the non-magical Driving Lessons. I swear I'm not trying to make a car-related pun here, but "non-starter" is the best phrase I can think of to describe it. Even though Walters tries her scenery-chewing best, there's just nothing to her character or anyone else's. Nobody has it worse than Laura Linney, who plays a cardboard cutout of a sanctimonious killjoy. Grint does once get to do a charming lovesick scene, but otherwise, this lead role unfortunately doesn't provide him with any of the breakout opportunity I'm sure everyone was hoping for.

Next it was a return to rom-com territory, this time to Music and Lyrics. Again, that had a lot to do with the actors, because I pretty much cannot resist Hugh Grant and enjoy Drew Barrymore when she's not playing too daffy. Plus, it was made in New York, and I never tire of seeing my city on film, even if it's just to nitpick the reality of the depiction. Any hope for a fairly original plot went out the window at about a half an hour in, but there is a mildly satirical bent to one aspect of the story that's sort of amusing. The whole ensemble is good and the runtime fairly short, and so really, I'd say it's not a bad choice for a particular kind of fluffy mood.

I saw a trailer for The Host in front of some movie I can't now recall, and it struck me so much that I actually pulled out a pen and scribbled down its title in the dark. I love anything that plays with tone, and in those couple of minutes, I could see it was intended to be scary, serious, and funny all at the same time. Maybe my expectations were too high, or maybe there were sophisticated political nuances that I was missing not being very familiar with Korean history, but I just didn't find the layers I was expecting. There are bits of a decent monster movie in there, and I did laugh a couple of times, but on the whole, I was bored and ultimately, quite disappointed.

Despite the brain melt, and despite the fact that I'd put off seeing the inevitably dark The Dead Girl for so long I was kind of dreading waching it, it ended up being the movie I liked most of this bunch. I was so impressed by Blue Car, director Karen Moncrieff's first feature, that I pushed right past any reservations about the now-overused device of interconnected stories, and that paid off. There is no naïve preciousness in the way Moncrieff uses one character's fate to examine a set of others'. It's quite artfully shot, filled with good performances from a bunch of underrated actors, and so really, despite the subject matter, actually easier to endure than yet another crappy blockbuster in the end. I'll have to remind myself of that this time next year.

July 14th - July 28th:

Inasmuch as Once can be considered a musical, it's the best one I've seen since Moulin Rouge. It's a near-perfect little film, one that had won me over completely by about fifteen minutes in and only got more rewarding as it progressed to its lovely end. It's totally charming without ever feeling precious, thanks in large part to the chemistry between the wholly natural leads. I left the theater all warm and glowy, wanting the soundtrack badly enough that I hustled myself to Virgin Megastore in ridiculously hot weather during the crazy $10 sale to get it. I know it's not playing very widely, but it's absolutely worth seeking out if you can. It's one of the few truly wonderful movies I've seen this year.