The Screengrab : judi dench

Harvey Weinstein Predicts Another Great Oscar Year for Harvey Weinstein

Phil Nugent — Wed, 18 Feb 2009 16:00:00 GMT

For three years, Harvey Weinstein went without an Academy Award Best Picture nominee to promote. That's like three Decembers in a row where they forget to run How the Grinch Stole Christmas. (Talking to Ramin Setoodeh for Newsweek, Harvey recalls the golden days of early Miramax Oscar campaigns when he would force his way into potential voters' homes to make them watch his movies, and actually says, "I was like Santa Claus. I had all the DVDs, and I'd go to everybody's house, with cookies." Setoodeh fails to ask about reports that anyone who tried to reach for one of Harvey's cookies got a fork stuck in his hand.) This year, Harvey--my apparent inability to refer to this man, who I have never met, as "Weinstein" testifies to his status as a semi-beloved living cartoon character--has a contender in The Reader, the roots of which go back to the days when, as the head of Miramax, he was an Oscar force to be reckoned with, sending out Shakespeare in Love to defeat Saving Private Ryan and somehow wangling a nomination for the fluffy Chocolat. Apparently Harvey read the Bernhard Schlink novel in a single night back in 1997, the year it was first translated into English, while keeping watch over his sick daughter. In the dawn he rose like thunder and and sent one of his minions to Germany to secure the movie rights, with orders that if he failed, he was never to darken Harvey's towels again. The movie had a troubled history that included the deaths of two of its producers, Anthony Minghella and Sydney Pollack. And when it finally opened this past fall, it didn't get the reviews that the filmmakers might have wanted. In fact, it set off a brief exchange of gunfire on-line when a blogger used Manohla Dargis's dismissive New York Times review to accuse her of being insensitive to the plight of ambitious bad movies. And since the nominations were annnounced, Ron Rosenbaum of Slate pondered the question of whether the movie should be given an Oscar in an essay with the ambiguous title, "Don't Give an Oscar to The Reader".

Weinstein laughs off all of this and much, much else. The important thing for him is that he's back, baby, after a dearth of nominations and a few high-profile box-office disappintments (such as Grindhouse) that followed his and his brother Bob's departure from the company they'd created and the establishment of their new base of operations, The Weinstein Company. But when things start swinging Harvey's way, they swing hard: as evidence, consider not just The Reader's nomination, but the fact that Kate Winslet got her Best Actress nomination for that movie, when everyone thought she would get it for her role in Revolutionary Road, which was directed by Winslet's husband, Sam Mendes. Originally, the Weinsteins tried to play it safe, and stay out of Revoltionary Road's way, by nominating Winslet for The Reader in the Supporting Actress category, "But the Academy clearly said, 'You guys are completely full of shit. It's an insult to all the girls in supporting.' This is why I always love the Academy. They're so just at the end." It's true--that lynching party the Academy has dispatched should be showing up at Roberto Benigni's house any minute now.

In the meantime, Harvey remains convinced that his baby has a shot against perceived front-runner Slumdog Millionaire. "What happens is: there are some times when a front runner peaks. All of a sudden people say, "That movie is going to gross $100 million. It's fun, it's won a million prizes, but what else is there?" Milk has done a very good job on their campaign, and is also a very important movie, in my opinion. What could happen, Slumdog and Reader could split. Slumdog and Milk could split, and one of those could get through. With The Reader, lots of Academy members still haven't seen it. I know, it's shocking." Of course, some would argue that the fewer voters have actually seen it, the more that it improves its chances. And now that he's in a position to win his friends Oscar nominations again, Harvey is that much more beloved among people like Judi Dench. "Judi Dench did six movies in a row with me and got five Academy Award nominations. She took me to the Four Seasons restaurant, with Mike Nichols, Carly Simon, Nora Ephron, a bunch of really famous, fun people. It was the day she got her fifth nomination. She said, 'I have a present for you.' She pulled down her pants and she had a tattoo...It's a tattoo you could wash off. 'JUDI LOVES HARVEY', right on the rim of her butt. Everybody at the table is completely shocked. I think she chose it on purpose because she wanted to embarrass me, and she did." Now there's a headline for you: "HARVEY WEINSTEIN CAN'T TAKE JUDI DENCH ANYWHERE."

Screengrab Review: "Quantum of Solace"

Leonard Pierce — Fri, 14 Nov 2008 17:30:00 GMT

Now that we've established for you once and for all which are the greatest and which are the worst James Bond movies of all time, this is the moment to ask: where does the latest 007 epic fit on that continuum? Well, for one thing, we're predicting opinions will wildly vary. In fact, as you probably noticed, even our Screengrab staff was more or less split, unable to decide if Daniel Craig's first crack at the venerable franchise was a long-overdue and genuinely successful reboot, or a failed attempt at breaking the mold that went nowhere.

I got a chance to see Quantum of Solace this week, and I'll say for the record that I'd be much more inclined to put it in the 'best of' column than in the 'worst of'. Then again, I thought Craig's Casino Royale was terrific, so it's not surprising that Quantum of Solace, which is quite solidly more of the same, hit home for me. Those less charitable toward the first Craig reboot will likely find as much to dislike in the follow-up as I did to like. As in Casino Royale, Quantum of Solace begins with a dynamite action sequence that the rest of the movie can't top, though it's not from lack of trying; and like its predecessor, it takes a more dark, 'realistic' approach to the concept of Bond as a superspy/assassin, flying in the face of the flippant, adventurous tone of previous incarnations. The direction, by Oscar nominee Marc Forster, is tight and powerful, which gets it over the occasional rough patches in the script, and the cast is generally excellent; Judi Dench continues to excel as M, and Mathieu Amalric is gripping as lead villain Dominic Greene. The biggest disappointment, though, is that the movie doesn't cast its nets any farther than it has to; it's content to be as good as Casino Royale, but fails to stretch to the degree that it would have been better. Good as these movies have been, an unwillingness to press forward will result in them becoming as formulaic as the ones they were meant to replace.

There were two tendencies I noticed in Quantum of Solace that may become trends as the Daniel Craig era rolls on -- one negative and one positive. On the good side, there's a sense of continuity -- it picks up right where Casino Royale left off, and in addition to the return of Mr. White, who may become the best recurring villain the Bond series has ever had, there's generally a feeling that the filmmakers want to engage the audience, to give them a stake in paying attention and reward them for being loyal to the franchise by carrying over characters, plots, and mysteries. That's a good thing. The bad thing is that Quantum carries on the overall grim, humorless feel of Craig's first go-round. It's not that I don't generally enjoy the dark take on the character, or applaud the move away from the camp levels of seriousness that plagued the franchise in the late '70s and early '80s, but with so much emphasis on grimness -- this time carried over into the movie's Bond girl, who's as vengeful as 007 himself -- the series threatens to lose one of the most important elements that set it apart from the books. Hopefully the producers can find a happy medium.

The Top 007 James Bond Theme Songs

Screengrab Salutes: The Best & Worst James Bond Films of All Time! (Part Two)

Andrew Osborne — Thu, 13 Nov 2008 21:30:00 GMT

THE WORST:

5. CASINO ROYALE (1967)

By 1967, the James Bond franchise was so fully entrenched as an iconic series that it was begging for a smart, funny satire to deflate its growing gasbaggery. Unfortunately, Casino Royale wasn’t it. The best Bond spoof of the era was on television, in the form of Mel Brooks and Buck Henry’s terrific Get Smart series, while Casino Royale – a one-off production of dubious legal status – proved to be a sprawling, unfunny mess. It’s too bad, too; it wasted one of the best 007 novels (the first, in fact), with a great villain and some excellent set-pieces, and worse than that, it wasted a fantastic cast including Peter Sellers, David Niven, Orson Welles, Woody Allen, William Holden, Deborah Kerr and John Huston. What’s the problem? The direction is a total mess which tries to cram far too much plot (and far too many jokes that don’t work) into far too small a space. The script, likewise, just isn’t funny enough – the rapid pace of the gags can’t conceal the fact that they mostly don’t work, and none of the great actors are given much of a role to chew on. It’s fortunate that the Daniel Craig era of 007 did so much to rehabilitate the Casino Royale name; for nearly forty years, it had been associated with one of the crummiest Bond films ever made.

4. GOLDENEYE (1985)

Here was a (pardon the pun) golden opportunity to re-invent the James Bond series: a new leading man (Pierce Brosnan, succeeding the poorly received Timothy Dalton) and a new era (following the collapse of the Soviet Union) should have added up to a new 007 ready to take on the 21st century. It was not to be. GoldenEye is about as rote as the series gets, plodding joylessly through all the usual Stations of the Cross. If not for the presence of Famke Janssen at maximum hottitude as femme fatale Xenia Onatopp, it would easily be the dullest of all Bonds. Certainly Sean Bean, as a fellow MI6 agent turned traitor, is the most boring Bond villain ever. The only real innovation is the casting of Judi Dench as M, but aside from one throwaway line about Bond being a misogynist and a Cold War relic, the potential sparks never fly. The movie's highlight is the obligatory Q scene, which plays like a Get Smart outtake. Not a good sign.

3. LIVE & LET DIE (1974)

In a series that has spanned more than three decades, a big part of the trick of keeping the Bond franchise alive has been finding the right balance between stubbornly maintaining its own identity and incorporating enough elements from a changing world to keep Bond from seeming like an anachronism. Never did the series lose its footing more disastrously than in the first installment starring Roger Moore. For a start, it was the first Bond movie to feature a theme song by an out-and-out rock band instead of a jazz singer or lounge crooner -- and make no mistake, if the song itself is no great highlight of Paul McCartney's career, better him than Duran Duran or A-Ha. But at a deeper level, it's the "blacksploitation" Bond movie, a real historical artifact and a pretty embarrassing one. First-time viewers who had barely begun to start adjusting to the new, male-mannequin Bond of the Roger Moore era were subjected to the sight of this smarmy British cracker sauntering into a Harlem restaurant called "Fillet of Soul" and mixing it up with the confused-looking brothers inside, who might have thought they were waiting for John Shaft. Yaphet Kotto, as great an actor as ever got assigned the job of trying to think up an amusing death for 007, got stuck with the lamest super-villain role in the series to date: his name ("Mr. Big"), his mission (to dominate...not the world, but the heroin trade), and his death scene, which is reminiscent of the time that the Pink Panther balloon in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade ran amok, all are pitifully unworthy of him. The movie, which is set in a world where every black person in North America (including Gloria Hendry as the first black Bond girl) seems to be in on Mr. Big's conspiracy to blanket the cities with horse, and in which these wretched lost souls are kept in line by their primitive susceptibility to voodoo, tries to balance things out by including a stereotypical big-bellied Loozianna sheriff (Clifton James) who co-stars in an endless back country car chase that would have been beneath the dignity of Hal Needham.

2. MOONRAKER (1979)

This post-Star Wars meld of Bond with sci-fi space opera finds the series sunk deep in its decadent phase. The film cost a reported $34 million, twenty million more than its predecessor, The Spy Who Loved Me, and while the investment paid off at the box office, the strain shows. No other Bond film surpasses it in terms of the number of exotic locations, huge sets, and beautiful women for Bond to beat off, but it's short on energy and wit, which were once the defining qualities of the series -- and which the producers, and maybe audiences hooked on the formula, now judged to be superfluous. Most of the cast, including Moore, Lois Chiles as the heroine, and Michel Lonsdale as the supervillain Drax, look ready to join a crowd scene in a George Romero zombie movie; the movie's only charm comes from Richard Kiel, reprising his role as a lovesick Jaws before being consigned to join Sheriff J. W. Pepper in Recurring Character Limbo.

1. A VIEW TO A KILL (1985)

Considering how easy it is to get fans to start arguing about most aspects of the Bond series, the general consensus that this is without a doubt the sorriest Bond movie of all time is so solidly formed that it's almost uncanny. Aside from the fact that, at 57, Roger Moore looked readier than ever to be put out to pasture, it didn't necessarily look doomed on paper. The title theme by Duran Duran is so howlingly, garishly wrong that it's kind of right, it was sweet of them to give John Steed, i.e. Patrick McNee, a role as one of Bond's doomed helpmates, and whose ears didn't perk up at the suggestion of Christopher Walken as a Bond villain? Walken, his hair artificially lemon-flavored, plays a psychopathic ex-KGB agent who was created by a Nazi mad scientist; now rich as the owner of a microchip-manufacturing company, he is meant to be such a cool killer as to be devoid of human emotions -- which turns out to be not such a hot idea, because when Walken applies all his considerable Method intensity to being devoid of emotion, he's da void, all right. Also not helping out are Grace Jones, who packs surprisingly little personality inside her outre exterior but whose bedroom clinches with either Moore or Walken can still give you nightmares, and, as the heroine, Tanya Roberts, who actually does less for this movie than she did for her starring gig the year before as Sheena, Queen of the Jungle.

Click Here For Part One, Three, Four & Five

Contributors: Leonard Pierce, Scott Von Doviak, Phil Nugent

Trailer Review: Quantum of Solace (Trailer #2)

Paul Clark — Fri, 12 Sep 2008 16:00:00 GMT

A few weeks ago, I said I wasn’t sure what to expect from Quantum of Solace- whether it would keep the super-sweet mix of action and drama that was introduced with Casino Royale or if it would go too far one way or the other. Well, this trailer eases some of my initial fears, largely because it gives us a good taste of both. Much of the magic is in the casting- Craig is surely the best actor to don the tux to date, and he’s backed by capable costars both old (Dame Judi Dench, Giancarlo Giannini, Jeffrey Wright) and new (Matthieu Amalric). As Bond’s female counterpart, Olga Kurylenko seems a step down from Eva Green, but then she’d pretty much have to be. Plus the action looks great, especially that great shot of the Bond and a baddie falling through the glass ceiling. All in all, this trailer has me relieved about the quality of the film, although even if I still had my original misgivings I’d still be there opening weekend.

James Bond and the Five Stages of Grief

Phil Nugent — Tue, 08 Jan 2008 15:59:00 GMT

The British news services really stay on top of developments in the James Bond series, which figures, since it's probably the best contemporary evidence that they used to have an empire. (I expect that within a couple of decades, American news services will show the same obsessive interest in who gets cast to play Bruce Willis's two-fisted grandson in Die Hard VIII: Live Free, Die Hard, and Leave a Good-Looking Corpse.) The latest casting news is that Ukrainian model Olga Kurylenko, who recently starred with a shaven-headed, baffled-looking Timothy Olyphant in Hitman, will play the "sidekick" to Daniel Craig's Bond in what will be the twenty-second installment of the time-honored, recently re-booted franchise. The movie also stars Mathieu Amalric of The Diving Bell and the Butterfly as the villain and features returning performers Judi Dench (as M), Jeffrey Wright (continuing to serve as the most overqualified actor ever to play Felix Leiter), and international man of mystery Giancarlo Giannini, who was last seen in Casino Royale being dragged offscreen after being tasered at Bond's request, but who apparently holds no hard feelings, being one of those adaptable European sophisticates.

It all sounds pretty good, except for a couple of things. First, the director this time in Marc Forster, the almost talent-free auteur of Monster's Ball and The Kite Runner, a man who has proven himself capable of practically anything, so long as it blows. But with Craig and the others in place, how badly can he screw it up, you ask? Well, it's reported that the new movie "is expected to follow on from the events of Casino Royale, with Bond picking up the pieces after being double-crossed by Treasury agent Vesper Lynd. Producers Michael G. Wilson and Barbara Broccoli said Camille 'challenges Bond and helps him come to terms with the emotional consequences of Vesper's betrayal'." This has a creepy touchy-feely aspect to it that might as well be calculated to set veteran Bond fans' teeth on edge. Not that we have any problem with James Bond touching and feeling, but in his own preferred style. For instance, in the opening of Diamonds Are Forever, Sean Connery's Bond came to terms with the emotional consequences of the murder of his wife in the previous film, On Her Majesty's Secret Service, by touching the villain responsible for the foul deed, strapping him to a surgical table, and rolling it into a handy flaming pit, after which he looked as if he felt just fine. And Connery hadn't even been in On Her Majesty, which just goes to show how he was willing to go that extra mile to come to terms with something that hadn't happened on his watch. The new Bond movie is due to be released this fall, at which point all will become clear, or at least as clear as a James Bond plot ever is. But here's hoping that, even as we speak, Forster isn't shooting a scene with Daniel Craig waking up in his bed in a psychiatric hospital to discover that Dr. Phil is barging through the door. Or if he is, that there's a flaming pit somewhere in the room.