The Screengrab : emile hirsch

Morning Deal Report: David O. Russell and Christian Bale Get in the Ring

Scott Von Doviak — Tue, 21 Apr 2009 14:30:00 GMT

In recent weeks we’ve told you about two David O. Russell projects in the works, The Silver Linings Playbook and Aaron and Sarah. Now there’s a third, and this one is scheduled to go ahead first: The Fighter, with Mark Wahlberg and Christian Bale. “Pic tells the story of Boston fighter 'Irish' Mickey Ward and how he was helped to the world lightweight championship by half-brother Dicky Eklund. Eklund once decked Sugar Ray Leonard and went the distance against the boxing legend before forfeiting his career to drugs and crime,” Variety reports. But who cares about the plot? Russell and Bale on the same set! Alert TMZ!

Steven Soderbergh’s adaptation of Moneyball is coming together. Steve Zaillian has rewritten the screenplay and Demetri Martin has been cast as Paul DePodesta, the Robin to Billy Beane’s Batman in the Oakland A’s front office. (Brad Pitt has already been cast as Beane.) “Martin, a rising actor and comedian, headlines Comedy Central's Important Things With Demetri Martin, which sees him wearing actor, writer, composer and executive producer hats. Last year, he scored a role in Ang Lee's Taking Woodstock, an ensemble drama starring Liev Schreiber, Emile Hirsch and Jeffrey Dean Morgan,” per The Hollywood Reporter.

Columbia Pictures is moving quickly on the follow-up to Angels and Demons. “Author Dan Brown has announced that his next installment in the Da Vinci Code series will be The Lost Symbol, which Doubleday will publish in the U.S. and Canada on Sept. 15…Sony has the rights to the Robert Langdon character, which gives the studio the right to negotiate a deal for the new title. The studio will be bullish,” Variety assures.

Related:
Christian Bale Goes Apeshit
Soderbergh Plays Moneyball

Trailer Review: Taking Woodstock

Paul Clark — Wed, 01 Apr 2009 16:00:00 GMT

After a decade that has taken him from martial arts masters and green behemoths to gay cowboys and resistance fighters, Ang Lee is taking on the widely-acknowledged high water mark of the Flower Power era, Woodstock. Yet for his genre-hopping, I nonetheless sense some pet Lee themes coming through in this story, especially in its story of middle-of-the-road types uneasily dipping their toes into the changing cultural seas that surround them, seen most explicitly in The Ice Storm. Yes, you respond, but how does the movie look? Pretty darn good, I think. Never having seen his television appearances, this is my first exposure to Dimitri Martin, but he looks like a capable center for this story, and Lee surrounds him with an impressive supporting cast, including Imelda Staunton, Emile Hirsch, and the ever-underrated Liev Schreiber. Another thing that intrigues me about this trailer- and the movie itself, of course- is that Lee doesn’t seem to be over-romanticizing the late 1960s the way many American filmmakers do, which is refreshing. And Eugene Levy as Max Yasgur seems strangely right to me.

Screengrab Review: Milk

Paul Clark — Wed, 26 Nov 2008 15:34:00 GMT

Following the 2005 release of Ang Lee’s Brokeback Mountain, there was some excitement over the possibility that more high-profile gay-themed movies would follow, a development that didn’t really pan out. Now, three years later, Hollywood has once again decided to tackle gay-friendly subject matter, this time the life of slain San Francisco politician and activist Harvey Milk- directed by the openly gay filmmaker Gus Van Sant, no less. But while the film has attained a certain amount of contemporary relevance with its parallels to California’s recently-passed Proposition 8, Milk biggest breakthrough may be the idea that the lives of gay heroes can be boiled down to the Hollywood biopic formula just as easily as their straight counterparts.

Think I’m kidding? Let’s go to the tape: middle-aged Milk (Sean Penn), fed up with his life, moves to San Francisco with his new boyfriend Scott Smith (James Franco). Appalled at the treatment of homosexuals even in the most gay-friendly neighborhood of the most gay-friendly metropolis in America, he’s spurred on to community activism, which ends up leading to politics. After three unsuccessful runs for public office, he finally wins a seat on city’s Board of Supervisors. There, he spearheads a number of major social reforms, including an effort to shoot down the hateful Briggs Initiative in 1978, before being gunned down by a disgruntled formal colleague. Take out the homosexual material and a few of the other details and we could just as easily be talking about any number of civil rights leaders. Hell, there’s even a frightened wheelchair-bound gay boy who inadvertently inspires Milk during his time of doubt, and Smith essentially gets assigned the role of the requisite concerned significant other who wrings his hands and tells Harvey that he’s not devoting enough time to the person who loves him most.

Material this formulaic (courtesy of Big Love writer Dustin Lance Black) would not seem to suit the recent career trajectory of Van Sant, who has lately made a series of highly experimental meditations on death. However, Milk finds Van Sant largely on autopilot, telling his story in a straightforward style that’s virtually indistinguishable than that of most Oscar-bait dramas. Gone are the spare, largely experiential narratives of his other recent films, in favor of a conventional mode of storytelling, with plenty of stock footage and montages to establish the film’s historical context. And while there’s plenty of first-rate cinematography from Van Sant favorite Harris Savides, Van Sant keeps his trademark expressionistic soundscapes to a minimum. Practically the only scenes in the film that feel unmistakably Van Santian are those involving Milk’s fellow supervisor and eventual killer Dan White, played, in yet another in a string of vivid character performances, by Josh Brolin.

If there’s one thing that’s especially distinguished about Milk, it’s the acting. Not only is Brolin perfectly cast as White, but so are Franco, Diego Luna as Milk’s ill-fated rebound lover, Alison Pill as the butch, no-nonsense campaign manager, Denis O’Hare as the hateful Briggs, and so on. Best of all is Emile Hirsch as Cleve Jones, a former hustler who under Milk’s mentorship is reborn as an activist. And Van Sant wisely lets Anita Bryant play herself in stock footage, letting the smiling, singing anti-gay gorgon serve as a distant, but very real enemy to the beliefs espoused by Milk and his followers. That Bryant would quickly turn from a political force to a punchline in Airplane! in a scant two years is one of history’s more humorous small miracles.

But if the film works- and on balance, I’d say it mostly does- it’s because of Penn, who gives his best performance since… Sweet and Lowdown? Dead Man Walking? Carlito’s Way? Suffice it to say that he’s pretty great here, infusing the wit and intensity that has marked his best performances with a warmth that I’ve never seen from him before. Penn’s Milk is a natural leader because he cares and brings out the best in those around him, but Penn also doesn’t shy away from the thornier aspects of the character. Unfortunately, the film itself isn’t nearly as well-equipped to deal with the contradictions of a man who advocated coming out of the closet yet remained closeted himself for over forty years, who was both an impassioned advocate for social change and a canny politician and self-promoter. At one point, Milk mentions that three of his lovers have attempted suicide, and it comes as a shock because the film so completely paints him as a caring partner and companion. And this, more than anything else, is what keeps Milk from being the cinematic landmark that it so clearly aches to be- that it’s so eager to give the audience Harvey Milk the secular saint that it ultimately forgets about Harvey Milk the man.

Speed Racer Bombs! Screengrab Two For Two!

Andrew Osborne — Mon, 12 May 2008 15:00:00 GMT

So, according to Perez Hilton, the $100 million jalopy Speed Racer is the "first bomb of the 'summer' box office season," with a dismal $20 million take over the weekend...and some insiders are voicing doubts that it grossed even that much.

Woo-hoo! Sad news for the Wachowski Brothers, Emile Hirsch, Christina Ricci and Chim Chim the monkey, perhaps...but it does mean we here at the Screengrab currently have a perfect batting average with regard to our predictions for the Top 5 Hits and Misses of the 2008 Summer Movie Season.

Speed Racer was #4 on our "Miss" list, and the gazillion-dollar grossing Iron Man was #4 on our "Hit" List. The only dark cloud on our prediction horizon is the recent bad buzz about our #3 "Hit" pick.

Considering the disappointments of Temple of Doom and The Last Crusade, my own expectations of Crystal Skull are already, shall we say, pretty well managed...but it remains to be seen whether or not the bad buzz translates to disappointing box office when Indiana Jones premieres on May 22.

Turning the Anime of the Past into the Bad Movies of Tomorrow

Phil Nugent — Fri, 09 May 2008 15:30:00 GMT

Scott Bowles reports that the opening of the Wachowski brothers' Speed Racer may herald an exciting new wave in rehashed entertainment: already, Hollywood is snatching up the rights to anime properties, just in case that Iron Man opening weekend was a fluke and the bottom is about to fall out of the superhero market. On the horizon: Hollywoodized versions of Akira and Ghost in the Shell (that last one to be directed by Steven Spielberg) and M. Night Shyamalan's movie adaptation of the anime-style Nickelodeon series The Last Airbender. Anime itself has been a cult object in the U.S. going back some fifteen to twenty years (back when we used to call it "Japanimation" around the college dorm, on the occasions when we'd been away from out bongs long enough to approach words of more than three syllables), but unless you count the Pokemon films, it's never really crossed into the major markets. As Zac Bertschy of Anime News Network puts it, "Generation X is very familiar with anime. But if you're not in that age group, there may be a learning curve."

That which Hollywood cannot make a buck on in its pure form, it will attempt to absorb and recreate in its own image. The Wachowskis may well placed to wield the hammer in forging a live-action/CGI anime hybrid because they're already understood to speak the fans' language. Based on the influences shown in The Matrix, they're recognized as fellow "fanboys" who have an investment in the genres they play around with rather than vultures trying to cash in. ("You know they still play Dungeons and Dragons?" says Speed Racer star Cristina Ricci, with what I hope is a touch of awe in her voice. "You'll be sitting around on set, listening to them go on and on about why they hate the concept of time travel.") In the words of their erstwhile producer Joel Silver, "They aren't smirking when they made this." That might not be the best news in the world; it wasn't exactly a lack of self-seriousness that brought the Matrix sequels crashing down to Earth. One hopes that the brothers have regained a sense of playfulness along with their way-cool "computer world" of this film. ("It was a little like living in the Matrix." says star Emile Hirsch. For some of us old farts, reading lines like these is a little like re-living the publicity campaign for TRON.) If Speed Racer crashes badly enough to chill Hollywood's interest in anime, where will the suits turn instead? Movies based on breakfast cereal box tops? Mentos commercials? Maybe I shouldn't have taken the blue pill...

Christina Ricci: Should I Be Concerned?

Andrew Osborne — Thu, 08 May 2008 17:00:00 GMT

I never saw Mermaids or The Hard Way, so my first impression of Christina Ricci was her mordant embodiment of little Wednesday in The Addams Family movies, marking her instantly as a Goth-y cool successor to the Winona Ryder of Beetlejuice and Heathers.

In the great high school of the entertainment industry, Ricci always seemed like one of the rebel kids in the corner, making wry wisecracks about the vapid popular girls, dating hipster misfits like Adam Goldberg and charting a course through an impressive array of cult classics, interesting flops and mainstream hits as a smart, sexy actress with indie cred to burn.

And then, I watched her Tuesday night appearance on Leno.

Now, I understand it must be hard living your entire life in the spotlight, surrounded by the beautiful people of Hollywood while constantly reading about yourself as an “offbeat beauty.” She’s often complained of her giant forehead, she’s battled anorexia and, as I only just read here on the Screengrab, she disliked her appearance so much at one point “that she covered all the mirrors in her house,” shades of her pig-snouted character in Penelope.

So, yes, I know enough about basic female psychology to understand that sometimes even the rebel chick in the corner may secretly yearn to be one of the popular girls, and there’s nothing wrong with going cheerleader blonde and playing up your glamorous side...

...but, egad, Christina, please don’t turn into just another Beverly Hills bobble-head! I mean, maybe her screen persona has always been more interesting than her talk show persona, but I had to go back and re-watch the Leno appearance to see if her interview about her shoe closet and her O.C.D. luggage-packing habits was really as vapid and boring as I remembered. (It was.)

And Christ a’mighty, that Speed Racer clip they screened was horrible, and Christina was horrible in it. I mean, we're talking Sci-Fi Channel original movie horrible. Sure, I know it’s a children’s flick and the visuals POP! But the preview of Christina’s Trixie making goo-goo eyes at Emile Hirsch’s tree-sappy Speed Racer made me yearn for the electrifying screen presence of Jessica Simpson as Daisy Duke.

Here’s hoping for better when XtinaRic teams with charisma powerhouse...egad...Orlando Bloom in New York, I Love You.

Geek Love: The Unmanliness of the New Action Heroes

Phil Nugent — Tue, 15 Apr 2008 17:00:00 GMT

"Now the geek is god in Hollywood." That's emerging conventional wisdom as expressed by publicist Tony Angellotti. emerging declares the veteran publicist and Oscar campaigner Tony Angellotti. "Every generation redefines its heroes and the heroes of today are slight of stature and geeky." The emergence, not just in starring roles but in action hero roles, of such as Shia LaBeof (Disturbia, Transformers, and now Indiana Jones's kid), James McAvoy (Wanted), and Emile Hirsch (Speed Racer) is apparently setting off a wave of soul-searching in Hollywood, where it seems somehow significant that these are the fellows stepping up to "replace" the likes of Bruce Willis, Mel Gibson, and Sylvester Stallone. If this were, say, 1968, there'd probably be think pieces appearing analyzing this development in terms of a political shift in the zeitgeist; the Iraq war and other setbacks to our great national ego trip have tarnished the steroid-addled heroes who emerged full-bore in the 1980s and made audiences quicker to look for heroes who seem more thoughtful and capable of self-doubt. But nobody talks like that anymore, and today's self-appointed experts are more likely to speak the language of the pop psychologist. Angellotti, who seems personally affronted by some of the newer success stories ("Do these kids even shave?"), has this theory: "For decades, we wanted our heroes to be who we could never be, but this generation of filmgoers wants heroes they can relate to, who are similar to them. They see themselves in these somewhat awkward, geeky, hairless-faced guys. They can relate to them. Stars like Clint Eastwood and Bruce Willis were men; these are boys, and they're appealing to younger audiences."

Others, such as Peter Safran, a man so smart that he freely admits to having produced Meet the Spartans, thinks it's a supply-and-demand issue. "I don't think it's happening because it's what the audience is demanding; it's happening because the old-style action hero isn't emerging. These are the people who are emerging now and clearly audiences respond to seeing themselves up on the screen. Shia LaBeouf's audience grew up with him - they are very familiar with him and he's a legitimate star today." Some of these deep thinkers may be getting a bit ahead of themselves. Whatever he can or can't bench-press, Shia LaBeouf is a talented guy with tremendous reserves of audience rapport; whatever his future holds, he's much more plausible star material than a lot of the people who've been hyped as alleged up-and-comers since Andrew McCarthy and Judd Nelson were figuring out which end of the razor you held to your face. (Judd's still working it out.) More to the point, some of the "men" that these guys (who, let's face it, may have their own deep-seated personal reasons for preferring heroes with hairline issues and calorie-intake counselors) love so much had their own callow periods when they first appeared on film. There were a few years there, between the point where Moonlighting started to turn brown and Die Hard's opening weekend, where it wasn't clear that Bruce Willis would ever wipe the smirk off his face and evolve into something more durable than an overage frat rat, and Mel Gibson's early success as the stone-faced pain merchant Mad Max was something he had to grow past on his way to becoming an assured, emotionally expressive leading man. (Then space worms ate his brain. But that's another story.)

In the end, the overmuscled, inaccessible terminators of the last couple of decades may be the ones who look like an aberration in the history of Hollywood stardom. Pauline Kael once defined the recipe for success as a male movie star as having the strength "to be one's own man" while still expressing "the sensitivity that is attractive to women." Stallone conveyed some of that sensitivity in the movie that made him a star, Rocky, then lost it when he pumped himself into a cartoon killing machine, a move that proved to have only short-term dividends at the box-office. And Schwarzenegger never became enough of an actor to express it even if he had access to it; if his political career continues to prosper, it'll enhance the likelihood that he'll ultimately be seen as an all-around celebrity success story whose movie career was just a stepping stone to bigger things. These guys were big, the biggest stars in the world at a time when testosterone overload was what the world seemed to want, but when the world moved on, they were painted in a corner, and left behind no progeny above the level of, say, Dolph Lundgren. (Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson, who Arnold more or less officially designated as his rightful heir in a cameo in The Rundown, has shown himself more interested in developing as a character actor than in making a quick payday from walking away from explosions in slow motion.) The Shias and the Emiles may actually be closer to the true face of Hollywood tradition.

Recreating Gay Liberation in the Seventies for "Milk"

Phil Nugent — Thu, 10 Apr 2008 18:00:00 GMT

Paul VanDeCarr visits the sets of Milk, Gus Van Sant's biopic starring Sean Penn as Harvey Milk, where throngs of unpaid extras have been recreating the protest marches and public gatherings on behalf of gay rights that were a feature of Milk's political career in San Francisco in the 1970s. Half a dozen years after Milk's assassination, Rob Epstein made him a nonfiction movie star with his classic 1984 documentary The Times of Harvey Milk. That picture was screened at the Castro Theater for the extras to help "educate and inspire" them and get them in the right frame of mind. Also coaching from the sidelines was Milk's political protege, Cleve Jones (who's played in the movie by Emile Hirsch, who Penn directed in Into the Wild), who "is here tonight too to get the hundreds of extras into character. He tells the crowd the original marches happened in response to the repeal of gay rights ordinances in Florida and Kansas. It was bad enough that gay rights were being curtailed elsewhere, but the bigots were headed for San Francisco, the one place in the country gays and lesbians had carved out for themselves. An initiative by State Senator John Briggs was being put on the ballot to ban gays and lesbians from teaching in California's public schools. 'So the mood on the street was pissed off,' explains Jones. 'And that's what you are tonight. 'You're pissed off!'"

Wading into the crowd, VanDeCarr met a lot of people who don't sound as if they needed the coaching. One of them, Anna Damiani, fled Florida after anti-gay legislation was passed there in 1977 and came to San Francisco "as a refugee from Anita Bryant." Another extra recalls that, "I always knew I was gay, but Harvey Milk's assassination made me come out." The movie's producer, Bruce Cohen, takes pride in how "this shoot has really connected with people here. Every day some person stops by or remembers where they were, or were friends with Harvey, or have a story to tell, or their lives were touched. And when you're surrounded by that — the director, the writer, the actors — you can't quantify the value of that to the soul of the film."

Paul Clark Predicts the Oscar Nominees

Paul Clark — Mon, 21 Jan 2008 19:00:00 GMT

"Nobody knows anything." Screenwriter William Goldman immortalized that phrase a few decades ago, and it's as true this Oscar season as it's always been. Perhaps even more so — not only are many Oscar races still wide-open, but the status of the ceremony itself is up in the air. But for now the show is still happening, which means the nominations are set to be announced tomorrow morning. Here are my hasty, shot-in-the-dark predictions in the top six categories:

Best Picture:
The Diving Bell and the Butterfly
Into the Wild
Juno
Michael Clayton
No Country for Old Men

I think we can all agree that No Country is in, right? Beyond that, it's something of a crap shoot. Michael Clayton is the kind of classy star vehicle the Academy usually responds to, and audience favorite Juno has become too big a word of mouth phenomenon to ignore. At one point, Atonement was looking like a front-runner for the win, but its Oscar buzz has subsided. On the other side of the coin, There Will Be Blood may be too bleak for the voters to embrace — it would have a better chance were it the year's undisputed critical champ, but with No Country in the mix, PTA's masterpiece could be shut out here. Instead, I'm predicting The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, an acclaimed true-life story that's only gaining momentum, and Into the Wild, the year's most Oscar-baity film directed by a respected actor, which is something that tends to go over well with the actor-filled Academy membership.

Best Actor:
George Clooney, Michael Clayton
Daniel Day-Lewis, There Will Be Blood
Johnny Depp, Sweeney Todd
Emile Hirsch, Into the Wild
Viggo Mortensen, Eastern Promises

Even if the Academy decides to overlook There Will Be Blood, they won't be able to deny the awesomeness of Day-Lewis' blazing performance as Plainview. Likewise, Clooney and Depp have recently become Academy favorites, and I dare say that had Sweeney Todd done more business Depp would've been the one to beat here. Hirsch is a bit iffier here given his age, but he carries Into the Wild on his capable shoulders, and if the film gets nominated I'm guessing he will be too. With the recent groundswell for The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, I think Matthieu Amalric should be seen as a contender here, although not nearly as much as if he was an American star. Instead, I'm going with Mortensen — Eastern Promises didn't exactly set the world on fire, but his performance was the highlight, and I think voters will take the opportunity to honor him not only for this role but also for his overlooked turns in A History of Violence and the Lord of the Rings trilogy.

Best Actress:
Amy Adams, Enchanted
Julie Christie, Away From Her
Marion Cotillard, La Vie en Rose
Angelina Jolie, A Mighty Heart
Ellen Page, Juno

Throughout this awards season, three names kept popping up in this rare — Christie, Cotillard, and Page. So it's pretty safe to assume they'll make it in. That leaves us two spots in a relatively weak year for buzzed-about performances (sadly, Black Book's Carice Van Houten has no traction whatsoever). With very little competition, Jolie should make the cut — the film didn't make much of a dent, but her stardom has kept her in the race. The final spot is anyone's guess. High-profile star turns (Jodie Foster in The Brave One, Cate Blanchett in Elizabeth: The Golden Age) have flopped at the box office, while respected performers in independent films (notably Laura Linney in The Savages) have been lost in the year-end shuffle. That leaves Amy Adams in Enchanted, a star-making performance by a previous nominee in a hit movie that's still fresh in people's minds.

Best Director:
Paul Thomas Anderson, There Will Be Blood
Joel and Ethan Coen, No Country for Old Men
Tony Gilroy, Michael Clayton
Sean Penn, Into the Wild
Julian Schnabel, The Diving Bell and the Butterfly

At this point, Best Director is the Coens' to lose. Even if someone else takes home Best Picture, I think it's still their year in this category. I also think the Directors Branch will be impressed by Sean Penn's metamorphosis into serious filmmaker, as well as Schnabel's unconventional, inspired filmmaking choices in Diving Bell. For this year's semi-obligatory non-Best Picture-nominated director, I'm predicting Anderson, a respected maverick whose filmmaking chops in There Will Be Blood are undeniable even if the film itself is too much for some audiences. Of the two remaining Best Picture nominees, I think Gilroy has the edge over Juno's Jason Reitman for two reasons: (1) crowd-pleasing comedies tend to get shut out of this category, and (2) Gilroy is a veteran screenwriter makes an impressive directorial debut. But don't be surprised if another "lone director" — say, Sidney Lumet for Before the Devil Knows You're Dead, or Tim Burton for Sweeney Todd — gets the nod instead.

Best Supporting Actor:
Javier Bardem, No Country for Old Men
Philip Seymour Hoffman, Charlie Wilson's War
Hal Holbrook, Into the Wild
Tommy Lee Jones, No Country for Old Men
Tom Wilkinson, Michael Clayton

In a year without Bardem, this race might have come down to Grand Old Actor Holbrook vs. veteran character actor Wilkinson. But Bardem casts a long shadow over this category, with Chigurh the creepiest villain in an Oscar-feted film since Hannibal Lecter. Charlie Wilson's War wasn't the Oscar juggernaut that it was predicted to be, but I still think Hoffman's scene-stealing turn will make it in. I think this year's biggest surprise will be the absence of Casey Affleck's performance in The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford. Affleck's the only serious competition Bardem has had among the precursor awards, but Jesse James was a box-office flop and Affleck's performance could give voters the willies. Max Von Sydow's affecting turn in The Diving Bell and the Butterfly might have had a chance here — as a means of honoring one of the world's most esteemed actors and, by extension, his recently-departed longtime collaborator Ingmar Bergman — except that he might not have enough screentime to be a contender. Instead, I'm giving the edge to Jones, an Academy favorite who came roaring back this year to give two acclaimed performances after a decade's worth of commercial crap.

Best Supporting Actress:
Cate Blanchett, I'm Not There
Catherine Keener, Into the Wild
Kelly MacDonald, No Country for Old Men
Amy Ryan, Gone Baby Gone
Tilda Swinton, Michael Clayton

Once again, three names keep popping up in this category: Blanchett, Ryan, and Swinton. I think they'll all get nominated, though who will win remains to be seen (early shot-in-the-dark prediction: a Swinton upset). The other two spots are less certain. But consider that, more than any other category, the Best Supporting Actress nominees are largely composed of performers who starred opposite other Oscar nominees. In this respect, I think contenders such as Ruby Dee in American Gangster, Marisa Tomei in Before the Devil Knows You're Dead, and especially Saoirse Ronan in Atonement, are at a disadvantage here. Instead, I'm predicting the fourth spot to go to Catherine Keener, getting her third nomination in this category for her moving turn in Into the Wild. The final slot comes down to Jennifer Garner in Juno and Kelly MacDonald in No Country for Old Men. Despite Garner's greater name recognition, I'm giving the edge to MacDonald, both for No Country's frontrunner status and for playing one of Oscar's favorite characters, the supportive, long-suffering wife. But honestly, it could go either way.

Watch for the Oscar nominations tomorrow, January 22. And remember, nobody knows anything.

Trailer Roundup: Speed Racer, The Great Debaters, In Bruges

Peter Smith — Mon, 10 Dec 2007 18:00:00 GMT

Speed Racer

I never really watched the old Speed Racer cartoons, so I can't say how faithful this is. But I find the cartoonishness of the trailer to be pretty charming. With something as stylized as the original, it would be a mistake to try for realism, so the Wachowskis are aiming for a more animated style in the lighting and the CGI, and this has extended to the performances. What clinched it for me was Emile Hirsch's vigorous nodding when he asks the little kid, "oh no?" toward the end of the trailer — this is about as un-naturalistic an acting decision as one can make, and it fits in perfectly. Whether this movie will please the fans is a question I can't hope to answer here. I only know that this looks like a lot of fun.

The Great Debaters

If someone told me there was a movie coming out about a group of African-American college students in the 1930s starting a debate team, I would be able to predict with relative certainty how the trailer would play, and in this case I would be more or less correct. From the time I saw Denzel Washington standing on top of a table while the words "based on a true story" appeared onscreen, I knew I was in the presence of a movie with almost nothing new to say. Frankly, outside the presence of Oscar winners Washington and Forest Whitaker, this feels more like a TV movie, down to the presence of Oprah Winfrey as producer. Also, debate isn't that interesting, folks. Sure, it allows actors to give impassioned speeches that rile up an audience one way or another, but that doesn't exactly make for great cinema. At least this year's Rocket Science, which portrayed the world of contemporary policy debate, had novelty going for it.

In Bruges

Maybe it's the Irish I inherited from my mother's side of the family, but this trailer makes me giggle uncontrollably. The cast is clearly having a great time — Colin Farrell flexing his Irish accent for a change, plus the great Brendan Gleeson, and Ralph Fiennes, who's so much more fun now that he's stopped playing so serious all the time. When I heard the plot synopsis for this, I was afraid it would come off like a Guy Ritchie gangster movie, but there's enough blarney on display in the trailer to put those thoughts to rest. I'm partial to the scene where Farrell and Fiennes negotiate their way through a shootout, but why choose? In Bruges might not break the bank at the box office, but I for one will be in line to buy a ticket.

— Paul Clark