Top 5 Reasons The Artist Shouldn't Have Won Best Picture

There are any number of things one can post as the luster of the Oscar awards season gives way to the endless fury of "Oh No They Didn't" comments that lay spread across the cinematic board. Of course there's the initial "everything was lovely" reaction which is almost immediately washed away by the "ratings still sucked a bit" syndrome and the inevitable hollow shell that is "Snidely Backlash" (second cousin to the Whiplash clan). As each choice is picked apart, ranted about, and then put back together only to be picked apart again, one must quickly and carefully decide which avenue to best tackle as their force of rage.

After all, rant about too many things and nobody will care. Rant about too few and people look down upon you. So I thought it high time that I get aboard the angry Oscar train and dish out the pain on one of this year's Oscars selection. Do I start with the obvious "seriously, Meryl Streep again?" stance? Nah, even Streep was kicking down the rebuke door the second she stepped up to the podium. To be honest, I figure if I'm going to go for it I might as well aim for the top. Go for the big show. The numero uno supremo winner for the evening. The Artist. For taking home Best Picture the film has forever opened itself up to the endless possibility of being shunned by the masses forever.

So here it goes, let's get this hatred started! The top five reasons The Artist shouldn't have won Best Picture.

5. Because I didn't want it to. 


4. Because I've decided it best to arbitrarily hate it despite having not seen it for reasons to be highlighted in the upcoming points.


3. Because it has people from the lands of Foreign who don't speak, which I'm near on 100% sure is a sign of evil. At least it's close enough for government work.


2. Did I mention the whole evil foreign thing?


1. Wait, The Artist did mention Best Picture right? I didn't hallucinate that, did I? In all honesty, I made the mistake of looking into the beard of Nick Nolte and saw reality itself explode into a cataclysm of dogs riding unicorns into war against the undead army of the Jonas Brothers...




Alright, so I admit as of right now those aren't exactly the cream of the crop among reasons one might decide to lash out against The Artist. Just give it time. Sooner or later the novelty will fade and then we'll be there. The people who enjoy lashing out against things other people kind of liked and now don't like as much because something new and shiny has arrived. Oh yes, and upon that day The Artist shall get a proper put down... granted by then nobody will be listening to us outside of our own inner circle. Muhahahahahahahaha!

Univarn's Facts of Life: Part 1

Let's face it, everything Univarn thinks about any issue is obviously the only way of thinking about any issue. How does the Univarn know this to be true? Simple: The Univarn is typing in the third person, which clearly shows just how amazing he is. As demonstrated in this amazing documentary on the past life of Univarn as Caesar (admittedly it was more to do with the salad than the man but you need not worry yourself with these fine little details):

Now do you see? Univarn is perfect and right in every way! So let's get on with some of Univarn's facts of life.

MODERN FACT :
	>

ETERNAL FACT :
	>

Short, simple, but irreversible. These are forever engrained into the world as fact. Of course you are completely free to disagree with me.... though I assure you, the consequences shall be severe. What consequence you ask? Oh, that's between you, the devil, and the entire collection of Justin Bieber autobiographies. Good luck, muhahahahahah!

And They Shall Call Him "Film Buff"

I still remember it like it was only a day ago. We were at a party with some family friends, sitting around the kitchen counter talking to the parental units about the usual things. You know how high school was going, what were we thinking about for college, why were we not upstairs playing video games and staying out of the way of the adults. When suddenly one of them turned to me and said "Ryan, come here." I obliged, as I'm so inclined to do. My first thought was that I was in trouble or was about to be asked some stupid question about some random pop culture icon I was only vaugely aware of.

As I got closer I realized they were talking about movies. Fair enough, but I still didn't see what that had to do with me. But all the same the three women looked at me and just said "What's that movie with Richard Gere and that guy where he's got a double personality thing?" It didn't take me long to muster up a response, and so I quite simply delivered "Primal Fear with Edward Norton." "That's it" they responded with some enthusiasm, and I took pride in knowing that I could be of help to whatever series of events had led them onto that topic.

It was what followed that struck my memory chords so profoundly. "That Ryan, I swear he's seen every movie ever made. He's our resident film buff." Now I want you to take a moment. If you were to imagine me as I appear today you might not think much of it, but at the time that would have been akin to saying I was the star quarterback or a prodigal musician. I had seen a fair number of movies, but "every movie ever made" and "film buff" just didn't fit my daily schedule. Even if you strip the former of its hyperbolic nature, I wouldn't have even cracked the surface.

If you were to say "M*A*S*H fanatic" or "Dragon Ball Z buff" I would understand. After all, those were the shows I watched back then and that was about all I watched. In fact the only reason I knew Primal Fear was the answer was because it was on HBO in the two hours leading up to the party and I decided I'd kill some time by watching it. A fact I tried to point out to the trio but by then I had once again been relegated to 'kid who should be upstairs playing video games instead of down here with the adults.'

But "film buff" was not the self image I had. Mind you, this was before Kurosawa, Wilder, and Hitchcock had invaded my life. Movies were a second tier thought to me, ranking behind the afore mentioned shows and an unhealthy addiction to Harvest Moon 64. If I did watch a movie it was likely whatever mindless action film was on television at the time. I never bothered to commit any of them to memory, and most are still just one pile of a jumbled mess in my head today. They were food, taken in and released out in equal measure. I felt no need to hold onto them, and therefore being asked questions about them was an alien feeling.

Over time things changed, and perhaps in small part to that singular event, I began to journey into the world of film. Being called a film buff, or simply being a "go to" guy for movie related questions, became commonplace. Yet I still like to look back and wonder what impact that had on me. If deep down I started feeling an obligation to know more about movies because it was expected of me. Even if at the time I had no idea why.

Farewell Dear Pacino?

Let's be honest about this, when we all saw the trailer for Jack and Jill, it wasn't just the content that left us running for the nearest bin in disgust. It was something far, far worse. The trailer featured perhaps one of the greatest hits to those of us who admire and adore cinema of the last thirty years. It featured what very well may be the end of Al Pacino's career.

Hear me out on this. The last general consensus good film Pacino did was Ocean's 13, and even there he was playing more of a novelty than an actor. Not to mention that he bookend that film with the much maligned 88 Minutes on one end, and the double down disaster that was Righteous Kill on the other end. But even as you go back, the 2000s haven't been all that kind to Pacino, and he seems unable to get out of it.

The made for TV miniseries Angels in America might be a high point for him, but he was trapped in a pitfall that involved a tentpole film for nobody in particular, S1m0ne. A tentpole film for Colin Farrell that never really made him a star in The Recruit. And a film whose very mention brings tears to the eyes of human beings everywhere in Gigli.

Going back just a little bit further and you can find some light at the end of the tunnel with Pacino starring in Christopher Nolan's 2002 film Insomia. Not a great film by any stretch but it features possibly the most recent solid film performance he's turned in, in a long while. Though before that you're walking through the land of divisive with Any Given Sunday, The Devil's Advocate, and The Insider. None of which are particularly good, and he plays pretty much a variation of the same character in each one (I know there's a heavy debate to be had that he does so for all his films, but still....).

To really find quality, appreciable films, from Pacino you have to go back to the mid '90s and take a journey through he one two punch of Heat and Donnie Brasco. From there backwards, you've at least got plenty of good to help shuffle the bad under the carpet.

These days Pacino isn't quite so lucky, and his film selection seems to imply that he either no longer cares or no longer gets offered good films. I hate seeing great actors - and I would argue he is a great actor no matter what some dissenters say - trapped in a sea of awful. Pacino's Heat and Godfather Part II costar Robert DeNiro could arguably be lumped into this same category. Except I fear Pacino is in a far worse boat. His entire career has been built on 'alright' films being compounded by great ones. These days he is swimming upstream just to get near alright.

I don't want to say farewell to Pacino's longstanding career just yet, but I'm starting to think it would be in the best interest of all if he curtailed his output some, and waited to find just the right role. Lest he one day find himself looking back fondly at the time he was asked to play himself in an Adam Sandler movie. Let's just hope that never happens.

To Review or Not Review

Many of you have pointed out the obvious lack of reviews floating about LiE these days, and have petitioned me to get back in the reviewing swing. I suppose my posts on reviewing lack that same cutting edge as flat out doing the reviewing myself. Either way, there's a rather simple reason as to why I don't do reviews these days, though the implications of it may reach farther than I'm likely to admit. That reason is confidence.

A while back when I went to compile a list of all the reviews I've written to date and spent a little bit of time drumming through them. It was a rather turbulent experience for me as time and time again I found myself let down by what I had written. "That's what I chose to write about that movie?" I kept asking myself, and much to my dismay that's indeed what I had wrote.

Movies I sang the praises of on alternative social media platforms had reviews which felt stagnant and dull. The words I chose to use were suspicious and likely byproducts of rushed thesaurus searches. The way I organized them fell flat and lacked transition pieces which would have given them flow, and character. I felt like I was reading the writing of my childhood self all over again. For those unaware I was a terrible childhood writer, and have the evidence to prove it (locked away in a vault in a dungeon miles underground).

This was compounded by the fact that my writing outside the blogosphere was suffering as well. Late last year I got in my head that I could write a book. After all I had an endless supply of ideas for stories, so I was certain that the words would flow freely from my hands into narrative art. Not so, and it took me near on 200 pages to realize I was stuck in the mud and tirelessly spinning my wheels.

Every time I turned around I just couldn't get the right words on the page. When I'd pace around the house I could visualize each word perfectly. The flow, the organization, the timing, and yet the second I sat down in front of the computer or whipped out my handy notebook, all the life of the words would be sucked out. "Shimmering beams of the night sky" mutated into "bright dots in dark upward place."

This same feeling I began tracing throughout my reviews. The redundancy in verbiage and adjectives pushed me to the edge of sanity. "Was that a good movie with mediocre characters or a mediocre movie with good characters?" I irritatingly asked myself with each passing click of a link. No matter how I spun it, I just couldn't find a review I was proud of. Even among those reviews that I would label my best, I find more flaws than positives. For someone who has written over 1000 posts and boasts a healthy dosage of reviews, that's a difficult emotion to process. Not to mention a bit melodramatic.

There are plenty of general posts I'm proud of, and I'll be the first to admit that in many cases these posts play host to only a couple of comments, if they have any at all. Most of the time, though, they are rants, ramblings, or articles on perception in film. Posts just like this one. Sure the redundancy is still there - I'm not a vocab wizard - but there's an added element in them that I find myself wanting in many of my reviews. Passion.

Not so much passion about the movies being reviewed, or the topics being ranted upon, but rather a passion for the style of writing required to do each. Conversational posts such as ranting gear themselves so much more towards the way my brain operates, and goes through the process of analyzing. Don't ask me why my reviews seem to stubbornly push against this tide, but they all too often do. Not until I started doing rants, raves, and ramblings did this become abundantly clear to me.

I've tried changing up the way I do reviews, throwing in new spins, moving things around, and dropping pieces that were getting in the way, but that feeling is still there. It's as if there's an invisible field around reviews where I opt to write in a stringent style not becoming my flow of thoughts. Where this came about is anyone's guess, but I aim to keep trying until I find a way out of it. After all, reviewing is one of the core foundations of critical analysis. And as a champion of that, I would be hard pressed to convince myself to perform otherwise.

Dear Hollywood, Bring Back Jonathan Hyde

Dear Hollywood,

I don't care whose career you end up trudging, or what inane line of events you have to take, but please revive the career of Jonathan Hyde. I know, I know, he did a whole lot of crap movies in the '90s and turn of the century, but for the love of everything, he was pure awesome in each and every one of them!

I mean, really, did you even see Richie Rich? The guy played butler to Macaulay Culkin at the height of the kid's fame, and still came off smooth as popsicles! Let's not even mention that he totally brushed his teeth acid. You think Vin Diesel would do that? Not a chance, that's a badassery you can't just find anywhere. He also wore a leather jacket in the film, so you know he's got the street cred.

Then you have Anaconda where he, well, talked in a British accent. And we all know how much you love British actors who have British accents! That's a sort of talent you can't find just anywhere...

Not to mention Jumanji where not only did he sport a non-Britishy British accent, but also sported one of the greatest pieces of facial hair in the history of film (see above photo). Not to mention a growling that would melt the heart of the even the most crazed Robin Williams beard.

Don't even get me started on The Mummy. The man sported a fez and looked cool doing it. That's the kind of talent reserved for the likes of John Rhys-Davies and cheesy stereotypical foreigners in classic adventure movies. This is exactly what Hollywood is missing nowadays.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, Shia Lebouf can yell a lot and act all dramatic, but can he coldcock the over the top villain trying to break into his master's blatant Hitchcock ripoff vault? I don't think so, and no matter what anyone tells you, that's the real X factor. The real silent skill that just doesn't get taught enough at acting schools. So Hollywood, do us all a favor and bring back this staple of cinema. You know in your hearts (the weird thumping thing in your chest region) it's the right thing to do.

Great Casts in Bad Movies

Having a cast of great actors in a bad movie can be debilitating for the crew and audiences alike. After all, it's not a difficult train of thought to go down when assuming that strong a collection of quality actors couldn't have been assembled if the movie were going to be bad. However, we all know that great screenplays don't necessarily make great films. Still, if you're teetering on the verge of investing, seeing a healthy dose of quality in front of the camera may sway your opinion. This is especially difficult when you find yourself going back through films with the mindset of those actors' quality today.

Movies like The Last Castle, which features Robert Redford, James Gandolfini, Delroy Lindo, Clifton Collins Jr., and Mark Ruffalo, come to mind almost immediately. But it's not a movie I would necessarily classify as 'bad.' There's a lot of cheese and rubbish underneath the surface, but it does have some strong performances which help save it in the end.

Of course 'bad' is a subjective term, but even still I could make the case that Ocean's 12 is a poster child for this in modern times. Though I will concede it has got its fair share of staunch defenders. So I have to think of what makes a movie 'bad' for me. I would say it's a movie I keep being lured in by the cast, viewing after viewing, only to tragically realize too late that it'll never become good. For that award, I have a one-two punch of Samuel L. Jackson to thank.

First up, there is Sphere. The 1998 sci-fi thriller rocks the cast of Dustin Hoffman, Sharon Stone, Jackson, Liev Shreiber, Queen Latifah, and the oft misused Peter Coyote. A strong cast whose isolation should give way to their performance power. Fights with imaginary jellyfish, random leaps in logic, a giant golden ball of doom, and over two hours later you've got yourself a dud in the water. Sphere could never get everything working in unison. It kills off its most interesting characters, and puts the other in a coma. How someone could ever make a movie where Hoffman and Stone are the boring ones is beyond me.

Then there's the 2000 incarnation of Shaft. Now this one I must say really hurts. First up, there's the cast. Samuel L. Jackson, Vanessa Williams, Jeffrey Wright, Christian Bale, Toni Collete, Richard Roundtree, and Dan Hedaya. Along with the healthy dose of recognizable faces in bit roles here and there. The real misstep? Well, that's two fold. The first was thinking with such a solid cast, the addition of Busta Rhymes would make things better. He's a lead ball to this films feather strong storyline, dragging it down at every turn. Then there's the dialogue. Jackson can make anything sound cool, and he has to because many of the lines he's given sound like they were written by a thirteen year old, just coming off a win at the "that's what she said" national competition.

Bale is stuck a character about as interesting as a cardboard mat, trapped in an unhealthy dose of scenes alongside Jeffrey Wright who is forced to sustain some of the most painful dialogue I've heard in years. Roundtree pops in and out, but never has much to do other than being the original Shaft in a cameo role. Collete, bless her, tries to make the most out of another flat, lifeless character. Then you have Hedaya basically just playing a hollowed out version of his character from The Hurricane.

The worst part is, I've seen Shaft a good five or six times now, and each time I keep hoping it'll be good. It never is, but it what it is, is often on TV in the afternoon on weekends where I don't have much going on. So for some reason far beyond my own understanding of myself, I end up watching it. I end up thinking its rubbish, and I end up complaining to myself for falling in the trap again. Worse even still, there's a handful of other bad films I could put in the same boat.

On Life, Cinema, and Tears

It may or may not come as a surprise to some of you, but there was a point in my life where bringing out the waterworks in me was easier than 1, 2, 3. How easy? Well to put this in perspective let's just say I may hold the title for being one of only a handful of people to have squeezed out a tear for the movie Dungeons & Dragons. Anyone who has seen that movie can back me up on this, that's a feat worthy of any embarrassment that may be felt afterwords. Looking back on the film, however, it's not really that surprising to me that I did cry during the film.

Dungeons & Dragons came about in a film complicated time in my life, Middle School. At my school I was at the bottom of shit hill and everything rolled in my direction. Any bully, or aspiring cool guy, looking to earn his stripes turned his target on the largest one in the room - me. I was a triple layer of easy pickings. I was overtly nervous, had the worse dress sense you can imagine, and took everything seriously. Especially as those three tumultuous years rattled on. Being a relatively chubby kid with glasses thicker than windshields it took no time at all for people to pick me out of the crowd for bullying. I was shoved into lockers, laughed at in hallways, tripped in Gym class, and called just about everything under the sun. A few years of that and I reckon a few of you would be easy to well up too.

As you might imagine during that time what I looked for in films was quite different from what I look for now. I wanted escape. I wanted escape so badly that even the worst of cinema was a perfect refuge for a soul like me. Any character of any likability I latched onto instantaneously, and as such any emotion they felt, I felt. So when that character, or another one, was 'removed from the picture' those waterworks kicked on and I was heading to tearville. Unfortunately this didn't help much when we watched movies at school, but more often than not I was good at hiding it (except in the case of Glory - damn you Edward Zwick!).

Movies that I watched during that time period generally rank high even today among the films that brought on the heaviest tears. Movies like The Green Mile, tailor made tearjerkers piled on top of a tear prone individual. You might not even want to imagine the kind of flow that went off in my eyes for that one.

High School brought on a different perspective in me, though. That tendency for crying faded off in to a hard built shell of protection. Where I would have needed a box of kleenex for Gandalf fading into the abyss only the year before, now I could essentially 'suck it up' and move on. In school, I had developed a skill for going completely unnoticed. I stayed quiet in class, quiet out of class, and kept to myself. If anyone disturbed that flow of events looking for a quick diatribe, I walked past them as if they were a gentle breeze on a plain fall day. Over time, people started leaving me alone, and that's where movies began to take their place in my life.

By High School I was quite aware that movies were a big part of my life. I've always been quick to change momentary addictions, but movies have always served as the backdrop to any current trend I may be going through. I hadn't seen near on enough to call myself an expert, but I worked at seeing more. I made it a point to go back and digesting as many movies as possible. It became more about the quantity of movies I could see rather than the quality of them. A trait that became all the more complicated with the rise of college.

In my college years and beyond tears were hard to come by. A movie really had to work at it if they wanted me to rock the boat. I had seen all the tricks, all the moves, and was ready and waiting when BFF number one was killed off thirty minutes into the adventure. A few films still had the power to bring out the most gloomy nature inside me. Grave of the Fireflies is often the first one to spring to my mind. No film in my viewing history has moved me quite like that one.

I find it nice to reflect from time to time on how my life and movies so greatly impacted one another throughout the years. How my emotions tweaked and turned the way I weighed and measured them. It makes me wonder what I'll think ten, twenty, or thirty years from now when the circumstances of my life change again.

What If....

What if nobody ever said Citizen Kane was the greatest film ever made?

Think about that for a moment. Think about the ripple effect that claim has placed upon the film. For there is perhaps no greater display of our immediacy to find acceptance in our opinion than in Citizen Kane. The way it attracts like minded individuals to love/hate it. The way the very mention of it splits a room into the distinct, grouped opinions. The way people desperately cling onto their group for reinforcement and encouragment. The way each group is absolutely convinced that their viewpoint is the only realistic viewpoint to be had.

It is arguably the most divisive film in history. From the day it exploded onto the screen, criticism, controversy, admiration, and dissention seemed to follow it at every turn. To possess an opinion on the film at all is akin to declaring sides in a seemingly never ending war. It's consistent prominence on top 100 lists only bolsters those whose fervor against it knows no bounds. However that same presence solidifies those who love it to do so tenaciously.

For my own part, I'm not afraid to say I love Citizen Kane. I first watched the film in 2006 in a history of film class, where my teacher made it abundantly clear where this film sat on the pantheon of quality (near the top). Seeing as I found my teacher sexist, annoying, and creepy, I can't say a ringing endorsement from him was likely to sway my opinion some. Yet as we sat back and watched the film I came to appreciate the film for a reason different than those around me. After all I was surrounded by film majors. A smorgasbord of aspiring film makers, each convinced they would be the next Scorcese, Kurosawa, Wilder, etc. While I don't believe they are indicative of all film majors, they were an unbelievably pompous group to sit around.

So what did they admire about the film? It's place in history. From my perspective they loved it because they wanted to make it. They wanted a film to be that important because they wanted to make something equally so. But in my discussion group for the film I was the lone soul talking up another point. The character of Kane. I admired the way Orson Welles built him. The way he was molded, twisted, turned, bent, stretched, and in a single moment shrunk down to his most basic emotional feeling. Citizen Kane ignited a passion in me for a genre that up until then I had always belittled a dull and boring - much like Kane's own critics. Citizen Kane ignited a love for character studies.

It has been much to my pleasure over the years since having left the 'safe' environment of that film history class to meet people whose view points on Kane are as complicated as the character itself. Those who out and out hate it. Those who admire its history, but cannot bring themselves to like it. Those who love it solely for its history. And, perhaps most importantly to me, those who also find themselves wrapped up in the tale of the character Kane. It is a movie whose social intricacies challenge us at every turn to understand and evaluate our own opinion of it.

So what if it was never called the greatest film ever made? I find myself reflecting on this from time to time. Would I still love it? Would anyone? Would those who hate it as much for its content as for its place in history be so adamant against it? I wonder....

Top 5 Quotes Sure to Annoy Your Fellow Movie Bloggers

I write a lot about movie blogging. In fact, you might argue that my blog is more about movie blogging than it is in fact about movies. That's not how I originally envisioned it, but it's a more niche market with great rewards for someone as (annoyingly) analytical as myself. In some rather sick way, you might say I write what I write just to force movie bloggers to think about what they write. Keeping up?

So as I've gone on this journey I've taken the liberty of poking and prodding - for scientific purposes only, I assure you (*cough*) - my fellow bloggers just to see what makes them tick. I've observed their exaggerated reactions to seemingly innocuous remarks about the quality of a film, and have taken all that in and determined it needs to be poked more often. That's right, I believe that if you hammer someone enough with the fact that not everyone agrees with them, they'll eventually catch on. I know, I know, only in my dreams (assuming I dream about blogging).

In such methodology I've come up with the five movie quotes almost guaranteed to get under the skin of movie bloggers. Sure there's some need for contextualizing among the various groups. But I'm pretty sure these are broad enough to cover the majority. Away we go.

"Christopher Nolan's alright, don't get me wrong. But let's just be honest, he's no Paul W.S. Anderson."

Anything that can be construed as not an utter surrender to the greatness that is Christopher Nolan is immediately squashed by the movie blogging collective. Let alone comparing him negatively to one of the most maligned modern blockbuster directors. Besides, I can't be on the only one a bit put off by the fact that Nolan is totally rocking the DiCaprio Titanic hairstyle. Come on, that was so 14 years ago!

"Favorite actor? Oh, man. I'm torn! Definitely either Daniel Day Lewis or Hayden Christensen."

Putting anything related to favorite or great within two Kevin Bacon approved degrees of Hayden Christensen is bound to inspire violent rebuke. Not to mention trying to put him in the same league as one of the finest actors ever to step in front of the camera.

 

"What Hollywood really needs are more Katherine Heigl romantic comedies."

Do I really need to explain this one?

"Who is Terrence Malick?"

This may sound a bit juvenile but I do get some perverse pleasure out of watching Malick fans go off on a tangent. They've got to be right up there with fanboys raving against negative reviews by critics for exaggeration factor.

"Oh come on! The Dungeons and Dragons films were way better than Lord of the Rings!"

If anyone ever says this to you, you have my permission to make them "disappear." No questions, no courtrooms. For the betterment of the entire human race, everyone would be willing to look the other way.


So there you have it, a few quotes you can whip out at your leisure if you ever feel the need to get under the skin of your fellow bloggers. Besides, it's all in good fun!

To Watch Or Not to Watch: Fast Five

Alright, here's my dilemma. It's a dilemma I've had since day one with this series. Should I bother watching Fast Five? I probably will.... eventually, but not after a heavy dose of moaning and mixed frustration. You see, after each viewing of the Fast and Furious franchise I've walked away with roughly the same mindset. That same mindset when you walk out to the car in the morning and shuffle around in pockets one last time. It's that "something is missing" feeling.

After the original The Fast and the Furious I kept thinking it was missing that real sharp edge that defined the film it so blatantly walks the line with, Point Break. The sequel, 2 Fast 2 Furious was out and out missing just about everything. The plot was weak, the characters uninteresting, the driving redundant. I had to wash my eyes out after that, and I promised I wouldn't go down that route again. Then game Tokyo Drift. Now I would normally be inclined to run away from this film but it hit a couple of weak spots for me. A want to see Lucas Black have an earnest Hollywood career, and amped up Asian fanboy lifestyle. So I went in and was pleasantly surprised by what I came out with. Don't get me wrong, it was a far cry from being quality, but it got by just fine on style.

Then came Fast and Furious - the most original thing since a sequel to sliced bread - and I figured it would be worth a go (even though by this point I'd completely given up on the careers of much of its premier cast). And much like the 2nd installment, I was left wanting. It wasn't quite as trite as that John Singleton nightmare, but it did its best to play up the sort of egotistic idiocy I find unbearable. Not to mention the marketing campaign for each passing film serves as a constant reminder that I am part of a demographic marketed to as if they were drunken sexually starved orangutans (don't ask me how I know that).

So here we are now, Fast Five. To watch or not to watch? Judging by the reviews it may be the first film to actually offer what I've felt the previous films lacked, but I can't rightfully say that. Nor do I want to deal with another Saw series where each installment feels like a consistent letdown. I know they're meant to be mindless entertainment, but I'm not one to lower my mental output to meet a film's level. Which inherently implies no matter what, the way this series is orchestrated, I'll always be left out in the cold. Not a place I care too much to be either.

Blogging: The Modern Classic Film Watching Cure

A post from Nick over at Anomalous Material about the much lauded 1995 Michael Mann classic, Heat got me thinking about one of the best qualities of blogging. Talking about films long after their social relevance has faded out. You know, movies kind of like Heat which aren't exactly old enough to attract the luster of classic film bloggers, but were made strong enough that they still hold a heavy spot in the heart of quite a few mixed film age bloggers. Because lets be honest, the social relevance of films tend to die off long before many of us get a chance to review them. Let alone really talk about them. After all, who really pays attention to that blog that just posted a positive King's Speech review? That films was like so, five months ago.

But bloggers don't operate as such. Whereas in life you may know a handful of people far enough outside your age group to remember Heat and discuss it now - unless of course you're a sports show host in which case you struggle remember any movies other than Heat and Goodfellas - bloggers come in all shapes and sizes. So if you post a review for Heat now, there is - in all likelihood - someone else who has also recently experienced the film and is biting at the bit to dive into a discussion of it. Not to mention a heavy dose of fellow bloggers from different walks of life ready and able to tell you why that movie was the greatest ever, so overrated, or just alright.

And I like that. It's nice to know that when I do bother to walk down memory lane and indulge in a movie from my childhood there's a solid possibility that someone around me may be experiencing it for the first time. After all, if there's one thing I've learned from all my viewings of Armageddon is that the world isn't worth saving if nobody else on the earth is using animal crackers to make a sexual innuendo laden safari documentary on Liv Tyler's body.... or something like that.

Write Today, Review Tomorrow

I think everyone has a process they go through when evaluating a film and organizing their review. And I think it says a lot about the person - or at least about how the person perceives the medium of film - in how they structure such an event. While I won't speak as to the quality of any particular approach, I do find it fun understanding how different bloggers formulate their printed opinion.

After all that printed opinion is what we ultimately put out there for debate (or just straight up agreement) with our peers. For my own part, reviewing is a time consuming thing. Considering the high density of typos and grammatical mistakes laden throughout my posts, you might find that surprising. Granted, I'd contend much of that is a byproduct of my lurching writing style. That and I possess grammatical skills equivalent to that of a nine year old (a calculation I based on years of watching Are You Smarter Than a Fifth Grader and determining that I was not).

Never the less, I do find my writing style has been molded over the years, beginning with my days of writing a journal at Rotten Tomatoes (back when users writing meaningful content meant something over there). It started out rather simple. See a movie, write a paragraph, and move along. No in depth analysis, no personal association, just the broad strokes of my viewpoint and a quick move. Of course back then I'd watch three to four movies a day. These days that style has lost much of its luster. All the zip and speed that accompanied it faded to frustration and a collection of half remembered plots and characters.

So, like many before me, my style of viewing began to evolve. I began reflecting on movies, allowing their different components to soak in and be internalized. Just watching a film wasn't enough for me anymore. I couldn't turn off the second the credits rolled. Films started to mean something more to me than mindless entertainment. As such my want for them to be experiences increased all the more. I wanted films to be something that would resonate. Something I could carry along like a puzzle, to pick apart and put back together on my whim. I started championing movies with resounding characters, long and encompassing plots, and the potential for longevity.

As such my review process also evolved. I started waiting longer intervals before the printed review and the initial viewing. What was once an immediate paragraph turned into a three day multi-paragraph editorial. Which of course would be deleted the moment it was finished and rewritten. You know, because I'm skilled like that.

Best Marketing Campaign of 2011 Already Wrapped Up?

As those of you who have followed my blog for any considerable time are aware, I pay a lot of attention to how movies are marketed towards audiences. Consider it partially an obsession of mine to understand exactly why studios - or indeed products in general - opt to pick the method they pick when hoping to latch a few new customers. After all, you'd imagine their products would be completely capable of selling themselves on their own merits, right? (if you can't stop laughing at the moment, no fear that's the right reaction).

Unfortunately, that doesn't seem to be the case. And I dare say, all in all, 2011 has been a right crummy year for marketing. Oh look, it's a monologue leading into a sequence of fast paced cuts followed by a snarky remark and illegible credits. That's the film I'm going to go see. Definitely not that other one which started with a fast sequence of cuts and then trailed off into a monologue followed by more fast cuts. And definitely not that kind of slow one which kept throwing up this words in quotation marks cited by people I haven't heard of. Really, John Johnson of WRAK-109.9 NAVANIMO says this is "must see." Nay, I say!

And the worst product of all of them these days? Cell phones. Seriously watch some of the bigger cell phone commercials these days and calculate how many are actually selling "buy this phone and you'll be the biggest asshole on the block!" I'd wager it to be between 30 and 50 percent.

But to get back on subject. Film marketing in 2011 to me has basically boiled down to two films. You have Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy which has solid and invigorating commercials, but admittedly a much better poster campaign, and The Muppets. Yes, that's right, The Muppets. Why? Because they've done something no other film campaign has done for me this year - made me excited about their trailers. To put this context, I don't think I could even get to all five fingers were I to count the number of times I've been excited about a trailer in the last few years. So, whether or not the campaign is ultimately indicative of a movie that's not really worth showing in its entirety, or a lovely tease to the kind of broad humor one will receive upon viewing it, I'm quite taken by The Muppets' campaign.

The parodies are smart, suitable for the content, and appropriately scaled. They appear to a wide range of age groups and genders, but are uniquely geared to that teen to early twenty audience. An odd group to be marketing towards, but not that strange when you think about it. The Muppets doesn't really need to market itself to children, nor parents. They're the easy ones to sell on the whole experience. Besides, this is the same group that has flocked week after week just to see The Smurfs on name value alone (because I can't envision them having seen a commercial and gone 'yes, that's what I want to see'). So, as far as The Muppets are concerned, that's money in the bank. Which leaves the middle age to elderly - who let's be honest, aren't going to go see The Muppets unless they're sucked into the aforementioned grouping - and the teens to early twenties grouping.

Why not market to them? After all, there's plenty of them out there with a heavy dose of nostalgia having grown up with the '90s Muppets push of The Muppet Christmas Carol, Muppet Treasure Island, and Muppets from Space. Of course you also have to wager in that none of those films were all the successful either. Muppet Treasure Island lead the pack with a measly $34 million on a $23 million budget. So I think there's quite a bit of pressure on this installment to return The Muppets to their glorious form. Which amusingly enough has never been much at the box office. In 1984 with The Muppets Take Manhattan, they finished a respectable, but minimal 39th in the Box Office - worse than Cannonball Run II, and only one slot better than the original A Nightmare on Elm Street. Their 1981 flair, The Great Muppet Caper only fared a weee bit better, clocking in at 21st for the year.

So, what do they have to lose? Obviously their campaigns in the past haven't been able to be the draw. Though I would contend they've had a bad habit of releasing their films too close to other family films with much bigger draws. This year, not so much. I don't see Happy Feet Two, which comes out the week before, carrying over and taking out the thunder. Puss in Boots and Alvin and the Chipmunks 3 are safely on either side of the film by three weeks. Let's be fair, Arthur Christmas doesn't really have a shot and Piranha 3DD isn't going to cut into its marketplace. Which pretty much leaves Scorsese's Hugo as the potential kryptonite. As much as I love Scorsese, this film is a bit of an enigma to predict.

Even still, none of these change the fact that I've found The Muppets marketing campaign to be a fun experience. Very seldom do I leave a trailer and think "that was worth the time to view it" - even though I'm compulsive about being at the theater in time to view them - and these I have, in each passing release. And as far as compliments from me go, that's about as high of one as I give to marketing departments.

Summing Up Blogging With a Quote

The Contagion (more on the film tomorrow) quote "Blogging is not writing. It's just graffiti with punctuation," delivered by the indomitable force that is Elliot Gould, got me thinking about how I would sum up my blogging in a single quote. After all there are a lot of ways one can describe themselves as a blogger. Not to mention a near endless supply of movie quotes on the subject matter to pick from. There are those which would allow me to lash out in anger at people who don't bow down to my every whim. Quotes that exist if I want to appear dark and mysterious. Quotes to highlight a deep and passionate intensity for every written word. And of course a few quotes that are there if I just want to continue being perceived as that weird guy with the off color sense of humor.

But all of those things really don't cover what it is I hope to cover. Specifically a quote that displays exactly how I would describe my blogging to someone else. I don't want it to be colorful or exciting; just honest would suit me just fine. So with that in mind I poured through my memory and picked out a quote that I think captures LiE just right. It's not one of those lovely 'memorable quotes' you get on IMDB, and I can't say the surrounding circumstances exactly match the tone I'm looking for. Still, it's just right. Delivered by the ever lovely Shirley MacLaine as Fran Kubelik in The Apartment:

"...I can type up a storm. I just can't spell."

Like I said, it's not sexy. But given the fact that I've had to look up the spelling of more words than I care to reveal for this post, it does the job just right. Though I will admit "I am the author. You are the audience. I outrank you!" from the original The Producers was a heavy contender as well. So now I ask what quote would you use to summarize your blogging?

What Do I Want in An Oscar Host?

When it was announced yesterday that Eddie Murphy would rise to the Oscar hosting occasion, individuals, such as myself, took to the interweb, seeking out like minded souls, typing at expedited rates, all in an effort to ensure that we were roughly one of the first two to three million people to make a snarky, caustic remark about Murphy's relevance, recent career selections, and/or general demeanor. You know, because the best Oscar hosts are always the incredibly relevant ones with a slew of recently popular films for people to relate to (yeah, I'm looking at you Franco).

So as this scene unfolded, I got to thinking - what do I want in an Oscar host? After all, there's no use sitting around groaning about something if I lack the resolve to know what I want to begin with. And the truth of the matter is - it depends. On some level I want an Oscar host to be a big draw. Someone that will inspire the masses to throw their remotes out into the distant beyond and tune in for 3 and half hours (ish) of pure cinematic self-indulgence. But that's just not realistic these days. There's too many options for someone to choose from for the Oscars to return to the height of fandom. Besides, who could possibly turn down the opportunity to watch a 24 hour competitive beard growing reality show marathon? Or a bunch of people with abs and greased back hair in a house doing... whatever it is that they do that makes people watch them.

With the opportunity for incredibly broad appeal out of the way, I think what an Oscar host needs is balance. Someone who is funny enough to attract those seeking a good deal of mindless escape. Someone charismatic enough to not spend the entire time just mumbling one liners, and waiting for the crickets to quiet down so that one guy snickering in the back can be heard. And last, but surely not least, someone willing to able to take a few low shots at the Hollywood establishment. An event as self-serving as the Oscars deserves to have at minimum five good mocks during the proceedings or the sheer thickness of the stench of egocentricity will engulf half of the west coast (admittedly certain fractions of people would consider this a good thing but I am not among them).

For my money Hugh Jackman was the best Oscar host since my coming into the world of cinema (around 2004). Chris Rock, is... well. Chris Rock and didn't seem like he knew if he wanted to be edgy or safe. I like Jon Stewart, but he's a niche performer and really stumbled through his first year. I thought Ellen DeGeneres had all the right stuff, but packed her show with all the wrong components (seriously, who needed gigantic shadow puppets?). Baldwin and Martin were perfect on paper, but both seemed uncomfortable and irritable. Geek approved Anne Hathaway was on the right track but constantly weighed down by a half-aware James Franco.

So the question remains, can Eddie Murphy be the kind of performer I'm looking for. Well, with the increasingly diminished role of Oscar hosts, he only needs to be solid for a handful of set pieces, and a few introductions. Not that hard for someone whom I would argue was once one of the best stand up and sketch show performers ever. I kind of think he could. That is of course dependent on him being able to either look beyond his recent struggles, his Oscar upset, and embrace the sort of self-mockery I've come to adore in an Oscar host. So, Eddie Murphy while many may grumble at your 'casting,' I'll reserve judgment and hope for a return to your glory days. Just please, do us all a favor and don't mention Norbit getting an Oscar nomination. Some things are best left never mentioned again.

For the Love of Everything, Stop Airbushing!

Look, I'm not going to pretend to be an art critic, let alone someone who bears any artistic skill, but even I know when something has gone so far beyond "well they seem to have just shed a few years, wonder what kind of exfoliating creme they're using" and reached a level to which they're only recognized by farmers who claim have to been abducted by aliens as they try to describe what they roughly looked like, you've screwed up somewhere along the way. Such is the case of airbrushing. A technique so hammered into the mindset of marketing gurus that if a publicity shot dare reach the public's eyes without having been appropriately smoothed over, one would think they assume the entire world as we know it would cease to exist.

Listen Hollywood, people don't need your help here. We all know human beings are meant to have facial features. We're meant to have dimples, maybe a bit of acne scars, or even, dare I say, a wrinkle. What we're not supposed to look like is our own Madame Tussauds Wax Museum lookalike. It's just weird, and frankly you're freaking us all out by trying to act as if that's what we really want. Nobody is every going to look at this freaky, emotionless, colorless, pale, being who vaguely resembles creamy peanut butter and think "well, that's how I define attractive." Alright, maybe some people will, but they're crazy and I dare say by marketing to them you're seriously walking the thin line between what is right and what is just evil.

It's a sad day when the animated characters from Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within end up looking more like humans than actual humans. This notion that all celebrities have to conform to this particular view of being relatively thin, ageless humans, is asinine and insulting. Sure, there's a contingent of the population that wouldn't dare look twice at someone whom they know good and well is in their 50s or 60s if that person were to commit the heinous act of looking their age. But they're obviously part of the lowest order of accepted society, right there alongside Wall Street executives and day time fashion critics (has to be said). No use pandering to their narrow minded viewpoint when your goal is to appeal to the masses at large. Yet this aspect of film marketing has gotten so out of hand that films are actually airbrushing actors in their teens and 20s. Why? What could they possibly have that would warrant such blatant airbrushing? If anything the way they actually look is closer to your idealized airbrush vision than the older statesmen you end up doing all the airbrushing on!

I know, I know, I shouldn't get so worked over these seemingly mundane and inconsequential things, but as a fan of posters and someone who is intrigued by the marketing process, I find them thoroughly frustrating. You see, what I find most interesting is why marketing people do what they do. What are they trying to appeal to? After all, nobody does marketing posters solely for the sake of artistic value. Which leads me to wonder - when they airbrush up these posters, who exactly are they designing them for? The die hard faithful would squeal excitement likes pigs on a farm if you just put up a poster of the title of the film in some catchy font on a black background. So you're not really doing it for them. Surely middle aged to elderly people aren't going to be that excited by seeing a blown up picture of someone their own age looking demonstrably younger than they do. Let alone seeing younger people than them looking even better than they ever did at their peak.

And I think we can all agree teenagers simply don't care that much. Sure, seeing someone their own age who all nice and 'clean' might get their blood pumping, but if that person is already sexy in the public zeitgeist you don't have to do anymore. People have obviously seen that person in a film or on TV and gone 'wow they're good looking' - so shuffling aside any blemishes with airbrushing is just a waste of time. Besides, when they go and watch the movie they're obviously going to realize that they don't look exactly like they do on the poster. Then again, Hollywood has done crazier things. Like trying to airbrush children.... why Jackie, why?

Moral Dilemma: The Help

By now I'm sure most all of you have heard the 'controversy' rummaging around this latest installment in the much beloved by white people sub-genre of "well off white people learn the real world for black people." Now I haven't seen the film, so whether or not it skirts the serious subject matter at hand is a rather mute point to me. What I am intrigued by is the potential double standard that is derived from a film like this. You see, let's be honest - on the whole actresses aren't exactly given premium roles day in and day out. Especially not black actresses who are generally forced to leave their Oscar campaigns in the hands of a role that is statistically likely to be a "poor and/or dumb southern woman" (sex scene with Billy Bob Thornton optional).

So, I started to think about a scenario. Let's assume, for the sake of argument, that we all agree that The Help sugar coats the racism and segregation in favor of a more "audience friendly" (*wink wink*) picture. Here's the question - should black actresses take on a potential Oscar role even though it very well may undermine an important segment of their own cultural history? My answer: yes.

Now I admit all would be for best if this sort of gerrymandering of real world political and sociological issues wasn't deemed necessary by on high. Unfortunately the monetary forces that be seem to suggest that lots of people either don't want to, or simply refuse to pay to deal with some of the issues that have shaped today. Especially when you factor in that the most vocal white commentators to speak out on racial issues these days are of the ilk that make Edward Norton's mirror driven 25 Hours rant seem empathetic towards his fellow man. So why do I think films like this, no matter how grueling and frustrating they may be for those of us who wish we as a society could man up and directly address the root concerns? Simple: Open a dialogue.

You don't get to home plate without reaching a few bases and sometimes to get moving at all you just have to bunt - there my one sports analogy as required by the international blogging association done and done. What I mean to say is this: if you really want to tackle the deep issues, you've got to start somewhere. And more often than not you end up starting off a great deal farther than you'd ever really like to. In today's turbulent "if you're not with me you're against me" environment baby steps can seem the equivalent of moving an entire planet when it comes to bringing people to light on serious issues that don't conform to their narrow vision of the world.

So where does Hollywood's obligation to sweep in and start offering competitive roles to black actresses come in? That's the sticky part. Unless you can convince Hollywood there's money to be had, they're generally fine with letting black actresses wonder aimlessly in the abyss of Tyler Perry films and BET made for TV movies and television shows that have the crossover value of a USA professional Cricket league. Not necessarily their fault, but once the social stigma is there it's hard to battle back against perception, regardless of the number of facts one presents.

Granted that's kind of Hollywood's stance on just about every social issue. But I think there is an intermediary solution. In recent years what it has taken to win an Oscar isn't the backing of a major Hollywood studio, it's the festivals and a solid mid-level studio willing to tuck in a cool $15 million. The production budget for the last 3 Best Picture winners equates to $45 million - $15 million a piece - per Box Office Mojo, proving you don't need mainstream Hollywood to buy into what you're doing to make an impact. And with films like The Help, also made relatively on the cheap at $25 million, I wouldn't be surprised if these mid-range studios were lining up around the block for another film vaguely like it to invest in. And if, by some chance, we can get that next wave of films to go just a little deeper, then who knows how far it can go in the end?

Does Tom Hanks Still Act?

Just look at him. So gleeful, friendly, and full of sincerity. He looks like the kind of guy you'd trust to watch your kids while you and that certain special someone go for a lovely stroll along the river bank under the moonlight, before a candle lit dinner serenaded by the finest traveling trio of musicians you could find on a tight budget - it's tough economic times, not my fault the three white middle school aspiring rap group YoDawgies was all that was available. Right, back on topic.

Mr. Hanks, Mr. Tom Hanks, he could sell a movie to 3 million people with just a subtle wink and a nod. It's a charm he possesses. A rare charm I'll admit, but a charm never the less. That certain core element of likability that allows him to weave in and out of all the various junk and controversial films that Hollywood shuffles his way and come out pristine every time. Of course it takes more than just that charismatic gravitational pull to escape Hollywood unscathed throughout the years - it takes a consistent delivery of quality. Well, either that or a good collection of stories like this making their way through the online media channels.

I'll openly admit, Hanks is one of my favorite performers to watch... well, perform. Yet as of lately I've found myself really struggling on one key concept: Does Tom Hanks really act - or indeed 'perform' - anymore or does he just play a minor variation of his general caricature. I'm not saying if he is, it's a bad or horrid thing, after all many of the most popular actors of all time never did much more than play minuscule alterations of their widely accepted public persona. But for someone as talented as Hanks is when he's on his A-Game, I must admit I find it a bit concerning.

Now at this point some of you might be quick to point out the films Hanks has recently done, but I'm just not seeing it. Even Charlie Wilson's War, despite Hanks being supreme Hanksian, isn't the most complex of film roles. Robert Langdon for the Da Vinci Code/Angels and Demons series is mostly just mild jogging and the occasional narrative. Polar Express, eh I could see an argument there but CGI is still on the outset of being accepted as a passable acting medium (sorry Andy Serkis, you know I got nothing but love for what you do). The Terminal... well maybe Tom Hanks + Funny Accent = acting but that was back in 2004 and skittish at best. The Ladykillers, well Hanks was definitely acting in that but I'm not sure a film as demonstrably divisive as that film has been really works in his favor.


So with these films I suppose one could say Tom Hanks is still 'acting,' he's just picking rubbish films to show it off in. But you only really need to go a couple of more years back to find a solid example of Hanks in form - Road to Perdition. Like the film or not, that's Tom Hanks acting. Cast Away, Green Mile, Saving Private Ryan, Forrest Gump, Philadelphia, heck I'll even throw A League of Their Own in there for good measure. While they do so to varying degrees, all these films highlight what Hanks can do when tackling roles that require him to step a bit outside of that 'Big' persona he's managed to carry in the public eye. I'm not knocking Big either, it's still a fan, and personal favorite among the Hanks collective.

Yet, the question remains. I don't want to wholly undermine what Hanks does these days. After all, he's still someone whose work would call upon me to pounce and watch in a heartbeat. But I do fear he's going down a very redundant route, a route I fear will inevitably lead to him slowly fading from pictures entirely - a far too common occurrence for iconic Male actors once they escape the comfort of challenging material and creep towards their mid-50s and beyond. Admittedly at a much lower rate than their female counterparts, but all the same.

Overshadowed and Overpowered: Heroes Underminded By Their Supporting Stars

Watching Rise of the Planet of the Apes last week got me thinking about a curious subset of film: Movies where, for whatever reason, the hero of the tale - or at least the 'main' character - is way overshadowed by the supporting characters. This could be because the villains are so incredibly intriguing, because the hero is so overtly bland, or just because the way the story is, the supporting stars get all the good scenes. It happens all the time in movies, and yet not all that often are they consequentially a bad film. In fact, some of the best movies ever made carry with them some of the most uninteresting stars. So, in that method I thought it would be fun to compile a list of films where the main character is arguably the least interesting one of the lot.

BRAD PITT - INGLOURIOUS BASTERDS

Don't get me wrong, the whole carving Nazi symbols into his foreheads of his enemies is a rather cool arch, but after that what are you left with? The answer - not a whole hell of a lot. Counter that with Christoph Waltz and Melanie Laurent throwing down the acting hammer, Michael Fassbender going super British, Eli Roth taking the ham to 400 degrees, and Diane Kruger just being herself, and you've got one heck of an overshadowed hero. Well, I say hero... that's a moral debate I'm not quite prepared to get into right now.

MATTHEW BRODERICK - THE LION KING

I'm not knocking Matthew Broderick here, it's just that with a film involving Rafiki, Timon, Pumbaa, Scar, the Hyenas, Zazu, and of course Mufasa, little ol' Simba is an afterthought when reflecting on this work of animated brilliance.It certainly doesn't help that he spends a good 80% of the film just blindly following and dealing with these far more interesting characters.

AL PACINO - THE GODFATHER

Now it's time to throw out the honorary 'most likely to be argued against in the comments section' selection! Let me say this right now - this doesn't mean Michael Corleone is a bad, or uninteresting character. I just think, in a film packed with so many memorable characters, he's just one of the least memorable. Sure, he's the glue that holds it together, but he's never going to get out from under the shadow of Vito Corleone - a fact he struggles with even in the film's second installment. I've always found myself drawn to Fredo, Sonny, and Tom Hagen more so than Michael in even his brightest moments. Also, you've got Abe Vigoda there.... that's just awesome in its own right.

KEANU REEVES - POINT BREAK

I could see an argument to be made that this is the 'honorary Keanu Reeves' list. He is quite overtly the master of being overshadowed by his supporting cast. Then again, he also has a great sense for picking movies that play to his strength - he should just avoid romantic comedies (still have nightmares after Sweet November). Oh yeah, Point Break. Well this one is easy: Gary Busey + Patrick Swayze + Lori Petty + John C. McGinley = one hell of an overcast destroying any intrigue carried by our good ol' friend Johnny Utah - man, even his name is uninteresting.

MARK HAMILL - STAR WARS A NEW HOPE

Hey look, it's that Skywalker guy being vastly out awesomed by three other characters who would go on to become some of the most interesting characters ever to exist in film. Sorry Hamill, you really didn't stand a chance and 'uninteresting main character' syndrome has always been a plague on the Star Wars franchise. That's not even counting pre-prequel Darth Vader, the ever lovely Princess Leia, and the lovable robot duo of C-3PO and R2D2 just waiting in the wings to pounce on a scene when you're not looking. Wait, I forgot to mention Peter Cushing is in this too! Shit, Luke you never stood a chance.


So there you have it, my list of heroes being dramatically over shadowed by their supporting cast. Now that I've shown you mine, why don't you show me yours? What films do you think are still mint, even if their main characters are lost in the background?