The argument for 'Toy Story 3'

...after it becomes clear that studios besides Disney are capable of creating some truly wonderful animation, Oscar finally creates a Best Animated Feature category. Admittedly, this has become Pixar's stomping ground, but let us not forget that films like SPIRITED AWAY, HAPPY FEET, WALLACE & GROMIT, and SHREK have all taken home the gold. The problem is, now that this category exists, Oscar's group think is "Why should we consider an animated film in the Best Picture race? It has its own category." Which brings us back to the EMILE ZOLA/SNOW WHITE paradox.
Sometimes folks, an animated film is just that good.

I wasn't gonna bring this up, but since the comments for this post have been disabled, including mine (they were originally powered by Disqus, but not anymore), I wanted to re-state my case for the record. Plus, I haven't talked about this movie much here.

No one denies that Toy Story 3 is an outstanding film. The issue presented here is why should it be nominated for Best Picture when it's already nominated for Best Animated Feature? Is it redundant? It's no more so than, say, having the Coen brothers nominated for writing and directing True Grit. The whole point of having multiple categories is that some movies are especially good in multiple disciplines. It's an unfair advantage to the other Animated nominees? Too bad. Some movies will always have more nominations than others.

Some people argued that the Animated category should be abolished altogether, and I can understand the logic behind that, since more and more animated films have become part of the mainstream, making lots and lots of cash. The category has almost become a victim of its own success, since Academy voters may feel justified in acknowledging it on its own terms, but not in the overall Best Picture terms. I think the Animated category may be necessary if for no other reason than to remind Academy voters that yes, animated films are worthy of Oscar consideration too.

Which brings me to the point I also brought up during this discussion: whether or not an animated movie should be nominated for Best Picture is one thing, although to most people's minds, it's a moot point - it has become a reality and it's here to stay. It's another matter, though, whether Academy members will actually vote for it over a live-action film.

Toy Story 3 is in an incredibly unique position: it's the most critically acclaimed film of the year (though I suppose that depends on whether you go by Rotten Tomatoes or Metacritic), the (presumably) final chapter of a beloved trilogy of films embraced by an entire generation of filmgoers worldwide, and one that made mountains of money. If a film like that doesn't win Best Picture, who knows how long it'll be before another animated film gets that close - even with a Best Picture nomination?

The actors are the biggest voting bloc within AMPAS, and the belief is that they want to see actors acting, and you can't see that as easily in an animated film (which also rules out documentaries from the top prize). But as we're seeing with motion-capture technology, that's an obstacle that's starting to get overcome, little by little. Academy voters weren't ready to nominate Zoe Saldana for her mo-cap performance in Avatar, however, even though James Cameron did his best to educate people on the mo-cap process. We've still got a long way to go before AMPAS' biases towards animation can be laid to rest.

All signs point to The King's Speech as the Best Picture Oscar winner, and it would be a worthy choice, but it's a crime that a film with greater critical and commercial success isn't even considered in the running. What more would an animated film need to get taken seriously for Best Picture?

The Illusionist (2010)

The Illusionist (2010)
seen @ Kew Gardens Cinemas, Kew Gardens, Queens, NY
2.8.11

I knew I wanted to see The Illusionist with Andrea because she adores all things French. She can speak the language fluently (as well as 24 others), she's been to Paris and other places in France, she once dated a Frenchman - it's an inherent part of her personality. Plus, with all the snow we've gotten here in New York over the past six weeks or so, I hadn't seen her in awhile.

I met her in Times Square for the train ride out to Queens. She was forty-five minutes late. I forget the reason she gave. This is not the first time she's arrived late whenever we hung out, but I can never stay mad about it for very long because she's always worth waiting for. We resolved to go to the next show time and had an early dinner at the diner down the street from the Kew Gardens.

This was, I think, her first time in the neighborhood, a quiet residential one with comfortable middle-class homes. One of the remarkable things about her is the way she notices things most people take for granted. Walking from the train station, she noticed the facade on a brick apartment building - a frieze of drapery on a slab of concrete. Nothing special, I thought, but she found it noteworthy enough to mention because she hadn't seen it before. She pointed out other buildings and houses in similar fashions. Little things, stuff I'd look at once and likely not think twice about it.

At the diner, the conversation turned to music at one point, and all of a sudden we found ourselves singing oldies tunes. (The place was mostly empty, not that it mattered, I think.) Now even though my sister is the singer in the family, I've been known to belt out a song or two in public before. I like to think I can carry a tune, but whenever I'm singing along with friends I'm less interested in how I sound and as a result I tend to pay less attention to basic things like pitch and tone. It's a bit like Ryan Gosling's character in Blue Valentine when he sings to Michelle Williams - he can only sing silly.

Heading back towards the theater, we walked past a Russian grocery store, although Andrea wasn't certain it was Russian based on the signs on the window, and decided she absolutely had to go inside and find out for sure. So we did. She was practically spellbound by the array of foodstuffs in packages written in Eastern European languages. Behind the counter, there was an old lady and some other dude. A television overhead played a Russian soap opera. Andrea chatted up the old lady a bit, confirming that the store was indeed, Russian. The old lady seemed to be a bit standoffish, but either Andrea didn't notice or didn't mind. She ended up buying a loaf of sliced Latvian rye bread (made in Brooklyn).

As for the movie, it wasn't bad, though I liked Sylvain Chomet's previous film, The Triplets of Belleville, better. When I came home I saw a review of The Illusionist at another site I regularly visit, Film Forager, in which the point was raised that the little girl, Alice, was underdeveloped and came across a bit selfish, which I agreed with. Andrea saw it as more the impetuousness of her youth mixed with her fervent desire to leave her life in the sticks and run away with Tatischeff. Having her along in the near-empty theater was helpful in that she understood French words that would've gone over my head. There's very little in the way of actual dialogue in The Illusionist, just snippets of lines here and there in different languages, not just French, and to me it didn't do much to illuminate Alice's character.

I recently "liked" the Kew Gardens on Facebook. I can't believe I didn't do this sooner. Apparently they offer all sorts of deals and contests and stuff. I'll have to take advantage of this sometime soon. And I'm not the only film blogger who likes the theater, either. To think I was worried about the popularity of this place!

Time Bandits

Time Bandits

first seen in Queens, NY
1981

LAMBs in the Director's Chair is an ongoing event in which LAMB bloggers discuss the work and career of a given director. The current subject is Terry Gilliam. The complete list of posts for this event will go up February 18-20 at the LAMB site.

Terry Gilliam is a good director who has run into more than his share of bad luck, it seems, over his career. His clash with Universal over Brazil is common knowledge; the studio wanted one ending, he wanted another, they fought. Gilliam's Don Quixote movie took so long and had so many problems that a documentary about the making of the film was released before the film itself, which may never see the light of day now. Before Zack Snyder, Gilliam tried to make Watchmen twice and failed. And of course, Heath Ledger died during the filming of The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus.

It's enough to make one believe in a curse of sorts, except that Gilliam has made some wonderfully imaginative and funny films. In addition to Time Bandits, I've seen Monty Python and the Holy Grail, Brazil, The Adventures of Baron Munchausen, The Fisher King, 12 Monkeys, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas and The Brothers Grimm. No one does fantasy like him; from art direction and costuming to cinematography and editing, it's pretty easy to spot a Gilliam film.

My pals Bibi and Eric are huge Monty Python fans, and while I may not be as knowledgeable about the British comedy troupe as they are, I've seen enough Python sketches and movies to appreciate Gilliam's contributions, in particular those slightly-creepy-yet-amusing animated bits. (At least, I always thought there was something unsettling about them - but in a good way.) I have Holy Grail on DVD; one of these days I'll write about it so I can talk more about Bibi and Eric, because Python actually helped bring them together.

The first time I saw Time Bandits was when it initially came out, in 1981. It was at a neighborhood theater in Queens which, like many of my old neighborhood theaters, is no longer around. Unfortunately, I don't recall the name of it. It was on Northern Boulevard in Jackson Heights. When my father took me there, I happened to run into some school friends and we all watched the movie together.

On a whim, I went back to the site of the old theater yesterday for the first time in I don't know how long. It's now a restaurant. It's still recognizable as a former movie theater; the marquee is still there, covered up by signs for the restaurant. It's smaller than I remembered, but then I was a kid when I used to go there.

Jackson Heights is a mostly Latino neighborhood. Walking east down Northern Boulevard (this little section of it, anyway; Northern is huge), one can find a ton of Spanish restaurants and bodegas. One of my old grade schools, PS 148, is in the area. I only spent first and second grade there, so I don't have too many memories of it other than it was the only school I attended in a school bus. That, and this one girl who used to tease me all the time. (She may have liked me. I dunno.) Further east down Northern is my old junior high school, but I didn't walk that far yesterday.

I don't remember going to the Northern Boulevard theater often. I went to the Jackson and the Colony (I think that was the name) over on 82nd Street much more, even though they were a little further away by bus. Still, the memory of seeing Time Bandits there is vivid in my memory. Perhaps it was because I saw it with friends. I loved the movie, I know that. Still do.

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Previously in LAMBS in the Director's Chair:

Francis Ford Coppola

Saturday Set List: Technicolor and CinemaScope

Soundtrack of the week: Shaft
He's a complicated man. But no one understands him but his woman!

Isaac Hayes, "Theme from 'Shaft'"

Song-about-movies of the week: "Saturday Night at the Movies"
It was all so simple back in the day...

Song-that-would-make-a-good-movie of the week: "Can't Stand Losing You"
Dark comedy about a guy who fakes his own death to get back at the girl he broke up with. Neil Labute directs (or perhaps Todd Solondz).

Actor-singer of the week: Michelle Pfeiffer
Posting Jeff Bridges last week reminded me of her.

Michelle Pfeiffer, "My Funny Valentine"

Exit Through the Gift Shop

Exit Through the Gift Shop
seen online via Hulu
2.3.11

I've already discussed my feelings about graffiti. I thought that watching Exit Through the Gift Shop might offer me some new insight about why its practitioners pursue their art the way they do, but I'm afraid to say it didn't. Though this movie focuses more on street art - imagery, sometimes mixed with slogans, displayed on buildings and sidewalks, often illegally - many of the same principles apply, and again, my feeling is the same: as talented as these outlaw artists may be, I question whether its creation is worth risking life and limb (not to mention jail time).

I found the movie interesting in terms of how the filmmaker, Thierry Guetta, ended up becoming the filmed, in a different movie entirely from the one he envisioned. His compulsion to film everything in his life struck me as odd, yet entirely modern, indeed, almost post-modern. So many people these days are eager to film their lives and post it on YouTube, no matter how exciting or mundane, yet Thierry had no interest in that sort of thing. He had to be coerced into making a movie; if that hadn't happened his tapes would've just sat gathering dust.

I couldn't understand this at first, but then I remembered how all throughout my school years, I would take photographs of me with my friends all the time, and I'd put them into my album and forget about them after awhile. I never thought about what else could be done with them back then. Now, when you take a picture, you can upload it onto Facebook, or your iPhone, or your blog, or what have you, and you never have to be disconnected from it.

In Thierry's case, he was interested in filming other people in general and street artists in specific, yet that compulsion to chronicle everything is there. In one scene, he spills a can of paint in the back of his car. He's naturally startled at first, but then he remembers the camera's still on him and he instructs the cameraman to keep rolling. Even in moments like this, he's aware of the camera, whereas most people's instinct would probably be to find a way to clean the mess up.

Are we really so narcissistic? Are we so eager to assign meaning in the most meaninglessness of events in our lives, especially with a camera in front of us? I suppose so. We're all the directors and stars of our own little movies, but the problem is that we're not in complete control of the script.

Then there's Banksy. He sets Thierry on to a different path, from would-be filmmaker to street artist, even as Banksy takes over the creation of the film when it's clear Thierry has no idea how to make a movie. This is a very bizarre, metatextual twist to the story - the two men switching roles. I know that there's some debate as to how much of Gift Shop is real, and indeed, I watched it with this possibility in mind (though it certainly looks real), but regardless, I have to admit I liked this "plot twist." There's such a dogged earnestness to Thierry as he's presented here, that it seems almost inevitable that he would want to try to emulate his street art heroes at some point.

Is Thierry any good as a street artist? His new obsession, not only to be a street artist but to be a big one, seems predicated as much on hype as anything else. I think Thierry even admitted it at one point. His art, to me, didn't seem much different from that of his peers, and it obviously owes a great debt to Andy Warhol as well as Banksy himself, yet he was able to build enough hype around it that people came for miles around to his gallery show. His nom de plume, Mr. Brainwash, was well-chosen, methinks.

Was this Banksy's intent - to help manufacture an overnight art world celebrity? I don't doubt it; the people standing in line for Thierry's show and gazing starry-eyed at his installations did come across to me like they had been sold a bill of goods without reading the fine print. Once again I found myself thinking about Jean-Michel Basquiat and how he was decreed a star almost overnight, and how much of that stardom was fueled by a wave of hype, though I would argue that he was more of an original than Thierry.

Art is whatever the artist says it is, but it can also be whatever the observer says it is, and if the observer says it loudly enough, other people can and often will fall in line. Think of Charlotte's Web: Charlotte made people believe Wilbur was special, even when he wasn't. How? By proclaiming it in a public venue as often as possible. I think Thierry's venture into street art has a similar theme. This may not be a new idea - Warhol conclusively proved this decades ago - but it makes for an interesting narrative.

Gun Crazy (1950)

Gun Crazy (1950)
seen online via YouTube
2.1.11

How would you rob a bank? (Assuming you absolutely had to.) We've seen so many bank robbers throughout film history, one would think that if one had to do it, there would be some basic rules that would be immutable no matter how times and technology changes. For instance:

- Wear a mask! You don't want people to be able to identify you after you're gone.

- Wear gloves! You don't want your fingerprints all over everything.

- Make sure whoever you're robbing is incapable of calling the cops, or at the very least, make it difficult for them to do so.

But above all:

- Stick to the plan! (But be prepared to improvise if necessary.)

Gun Crazy was an awesome movie, but I couldn't help but notice how the main characters break all of these basic rules at one point or another, and yet they still managed to make their spree last as long as they did. Given that they'd both spent time on the wrong side of the law before they met, you'd think they'd be smarter about that sort of thing. Changing clothes after you get away shouldn't be enough, especially with these two: Bart is really tall and looks like Jimmy Stewart's evil twin brother; Laurie is really short and with a British accent that comes and goes (it's there if you listen for it).

Still, that didn't spoil my enjoyment of this classic noir movie; another one I read about at Where Danger Lives. Mark said that some critics have made the case for it as the "Great American Movie." I think it's a very archetypal American movie. The love of violence in entertainment in general and gun culture in specific is a major theme throughout the film. I think there are other crime movies that embody American culture a little better, though, such as the original Scarface (or the remake too, I suppose), the first Godfather, or Bonnie and Clyde, which Gun Crazy naturally draws comparisons to.

I loved how some shots were filmed from the backseat of Bart and Laurie's getaway car. It's a bit of a surprise to see actors actually driving on real streets, and not pretend-driving on a sound stage with a "street" projected on a screen behind them. More than that, though, it gives you the feeling that you're in the heist with them, that you're part of the score and that any second the cops will start shooting at your head. It's unusual to see in such an old movie.

I have several other noir films I wanna check out in the coming weeks, but the trick is to weave them into my backlog of titles. I used to write down which movies I wanted to see, but I find I can keep it straight in my head, more or less.

On Oscar and diversity

"There are lots of reasons at both the individual level as well as the industry level that converge to suppress diversity both on the screen and behind the scenes... The film industry does not exist in a vacuum; it is part of a larger culture, and our attitudes about gender and race are extremely deeply held. Those attitudes don't change overnight or with an Oscar win."

There were several articles like this one around the web last week when the Oscar nominations were announced. It's to the writers' credit that the issue of diversity in Hollywood in general and the Oscars in specific was at the forefront of their minds. I did not expect any people of color to be nominated, at least not in the major categories. The women of For Colored Girls might have had an outside shot if they had had a bigger campaign, but since the film got mediocre reviews, that probably wasn't gonna happen. I was rooting for Winter's Bone director Debra Granik, and if I had had a ballot I would've voted for her for Best Director, but if Christopher Nolan couldn't get in, what chance did she have? Ditto Lisa Cholodenko for The Kids are All Right.

All I have to say about the matter is that perhaps the emphasis shouldn't be on demanding change from the establishment. Maybe it should be more about finding and cultivating new talent from women and minority filmmakers, to the point where the establishment realizes that money can be made off of them just as easily as anyone else. The more voices there are out there in the wilderness, the greater the chances are that they'll eventually be heard. Though let it be known that I am against rewarding talent strictly because they're women or minorities. They've also gotta be good.