A little something new...

MovableType lends itself to long form entries, and I like that. On the other hand, sometimes I stumble across something that just requires a word and a link.

Andre showed me the way with his new layout. Over on the right you'll see I've swiped his idea with my Noticed section.

A word. A link. A dilemma solved.

I realized as I was logging on to the www today that I've been using the same home page for years. I use My Yahoo and, believe it or not, I keep up with the new features. I tweak it like mad and get as much as I can out of it.

I flirted with the idea of creating my own home page for a while, but realized I didn't want to keep it up. Using my site doesn't work, because I don't necessarily want to link all my clubs, my email, my calendar, yadda yadda.

I'm curious about what others use for a home page, and why? Do you roll your own, or did you leave it at the default?

There's a new bit over to the left above the movie reviews. It's a list of my DVDs, along with some vids I want to replace. It's obviously not there to brag, as I have one measely shelf of mostly mainstream titles. It's there because I keep buying the same thing twice. I figure if I put a list on the web so I can print it from anywhere, I'll take it with me before I shop.

As if.

Lately, frytopia has become mostly about movies. There's a little of me, a little of the web, but the majority of entries are about my greatest passion: film.

I'm curious to know what folks think of this. Also, I've been looking for an excuse to use this neato micropoll, which I gleefully swiped from technoerotica.

So here's the big question: Do you like frytopia's cinematic slant?

TRAILER ALERT: I don't think I have ever, in all my years of movie going, laughed my ass off all the way through a trailer. I was chuckling when De Niro showed up. Chortling when Murphy started in. Then William Shatner said: "C'mon guys, let's jump some hood!" and I lost it. I will not be missing Showtime.

Queen of the Damned was fun, end to end. I expected the book to be a mere jumping off point, but writer Scott Abbott did a good job of translating large chunks of the novels (it covers two) to the screen. A charismatic cast inhabits stylish set pieces--there is an abundance of eye candy all around. Perhaps more for the women than the men. I won't complain. Townsend is good, if a tiny bit weak, as the megalomaniac with a heart, Lestat. More fun is Vincent Perez as Marius. He isn't always great, but he gets prankish nicely.

Rymer finally catches the movement of the vampire. Perhaps he spends too much time on this--but he expresses the other-worldliness of the immortals with seductive touches. Concert scenes are especially effective as he reveals the aliens in our midst.

Expressive use of color, good editing, and even some surprisingly good music make Queen something to catch on the big screen.

I'd like to have lunch with James Woods. Anyone who can take reprehensibility to the limit as he does here, and in the otherwise unremarkable Citizen Cohn, has got to be interesting. The man is a master at playing people you want to kick the crap out of.

In Ghosts of Mississippi, Woods plays Byron De La Beckwith, the infamous murderer of civil-rights leader Medgar Evers. Unconvicted for 30 years, he comes to trial an unrepentant old monster. While compelling in a basic fashion, the character is one-sided, as is everyone in this tepid screenplay. Alec Baldwin plays the devoted father and sacrificing lawyer who turns his back on racist in-laws to take the case. Why he would have married a bigot in the first place is not examined. Whoopi Goldberg is the dignified widow. Craig T. Nelson is the combative boss who finally comes around. No stereotype is left unturned, and that's a shame, because these events are real.

Evers was murdered, and it did take 30 years to bring his killer to justice. That a guilty verdict was possible in the 1990s but not in the 1960s speaks volumes about the success of the civil rights movement itself--as a society, we have changed. That is a message of great hope.

While Ghosts isn't a bad renter, it would be gratifying to see it redone someday by a director less interested in the bottom line, and more interested in history.

The 1962 version of Lolita with James Mason always creeped me out, right from the opening credits. I've never been able to watch it. I looked it up before writing this paragraph, and suddenly the light went on. Here's my sheepish admission: I hate Stanley Kubrick. Only one film of his made any impression on me (A Clockwork Orange) and even that was hard to get through. I've seen most of his films simply because most of my friends love him, so I thought I had to be wrong about him. Alas, after all my efforts, I find him unbearable. So there. My secret is out.

But this isn't about Kubrick, this is about Adriane Lyne's gorgeous adaptation of Nabokov's most famous novel.

Irons plays Humbert Humbert with an amazing sympathy. Yes, his actions are still reprehensible, but it's clear to see that his feelings for Delores are genuine--he's completely in love and enslaved by her. Lo is hardly blameless, and still because of her age she is not blamed. Conflicts are whispered on the faces of Irons and Dominique Swain long before they surface in the film. Charismatic and skillful, they turn in great performances that would not have been ignored but for the controversy surrounding the film.

The only misstep is the casting of Melanie Griffith. She is suitably obnoxious, but her tongue doesn't wrap around the language of the script. The inflexibility of her trademark voice has often been a handicap, but in this case it should have put her out of the running.

I crammed in a few movies this weekend, as I often do.

The first was Blackrock, a study in Australian misogyny; we watch the story revolve around Jared, teenager who witnesses the rape and murder of a girl, but does nothing for fear of betraying his mates.

The theme is painted quite starkly as we see the aft-end example of his girlfriend's father, a photographer who treats his models like cattle. I believe this film is underrated as most viewers miss this important pointer, and consider the drama on its own merits. This is difficult to do as Jared's silence becomes more ridiculous and he transforms into a less sympathetic character. It's also easy to look at this as a general indictment, but director Steven Vidler is careful to limit himself to a small community and a narrow scope.

On the surface, Blackrock reads as a teenage drama with a bit of hysterical fluff thrown in. It isn't a great film by any means, but it is watchable, and deserves a bit more credit than that.

Jonah is the new Kottke, according to some interesting people, a google ranking, and me. Of course I don't pay much attention to Kottke, so I'm not sure how I feel about dear Jonah being the new one.

I've always been fascinated by what goes on behind the scenes at the Disney parks. What a cool place to work maintenance.

Peeks behind the curtain can be had at Disney's Secret Department and Disney's own site. Even more fun, a long tradition of adding Mickey to attractions and films can be discovered at Hidden Mickeys.

Want the scoop on the mouse? Don't miss the Disney Inside Track. Sorry about the music, but it's worth knowing that the park is planning to add Myst Island! Snopes has a section devoted to Walt and the parks, debunking common myths. Even I thought that Tinkerbell was based on Marilyn Monroe. I was wrong.

Finally, for the hardcore mickeyphiles, there's RADP (pronounced rad-pee), a usenet group for park regulars.

I have crushed anew.

Honestly, I crushed on Boreanaz a long, long time ago. Many of my smoochables wait until I can find a decent picture. Getting very popular, as he did, helps.

Now I think I'll go watch another season one episode of Buffy.

The Religious Experience of Philip K. Dick.

If you'd like more, I recommend the Valis trilogy. Mind bending stuff.

From a friend who doesn't update enough:

"Believe it or not but 8.02 PM on February 20 this year will be a historic moment in time. It will not be marked by the chiming of any clocks or the ringing of bells, but at that precise time, on that specific date, something will happen which has not occurred for 1,001 years, and it will never happen again.

As the clock ticks over from 8.01 PM on Wednesday, February 20, time will, for sixty seconds only, read in perfect symmetry 2002, 2002, 2002, or to be more precise - 20:02, 20/02, 2002.

This historic event will never have the same poignancy as the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month, which marks Armistice Day, but it is an event which has only happened once before, and is something which will never be repeated.

The last occasion that time read in such a symmetrical pattern was long before the days of the digital watch and the 24-hour clock - at 10.01 AM on January 10, 1001. And because the clock only goes up to 23.59, it is something that will never happen again!"

Cool

"If you ever decided that you like the welcome page and you like some of the options, just to show you where you can find it, there in the favorite bookmarks, open up that folder, right at the top, there's the welcome, right click on it and set it as your homepage..."

She's a good trainer. It isn't a horrible program, but we're being forced into the switch and it isn't as good as what we have (GroupWise), so there's some resentment. It's just...three days of drone. Three days. Adult classes make one long for the days of school when there was some variety.

On the other hand, there's a lot of repitition and irrelevant information, so I can completely ignore her much of the time. It's also cute to see my co-worker, Robert, hit on her. In a nice way. He's making progress.

Nonetheless, my mind is going numb.

PS: This is what I get for googling my teacher.

Sixteen movies in a little over three days. Five movies a day, give or take. Next time, I think I'll try to break 20. Things I learned:

1. If you're going for volume, don't spend a lot of time in the theatres. Theatre hopping increases wait time, and is a lot more exhausting than renting. Also, you can't do laundry in a theatre.
   
2. Don't make the schedule too heavy. Every third movie or so should be a no-brainer.
   
3. If you're writing about the films, as I did, take a note or two during the film if possible. If a line or image strikes you, write it down--it will make the review a lot easier and more meaningful.
   
4. Do something special for snacks, because everyone asks about them.

My final entry was that last no-brainer: Drew Barrymore's Never Been Kissed. I was surprised--I think most of us, if we returned to highschool as adults, would use our adult confidence to an advantage. On the other hand, I also think most of us would suck at the acedemic portion. Personally, I remember squat from highschool. Drew's character, Josie, needs help with her confidence, but seems to have a great memory for things that no longer matter in the least when you get out of school. Ah well, it's not like I was expecting realism.

Kissed is a sweet flick. Michael Vartan is cute, cute, cute. Beyond that, who cares? It's late, and pink clothes and goofy jokes are good.

I realized fairly soon that I'd seen this before, but proceeded to watch it again anyway. I couldn't quite remember how it went. Soon, I shall forget again.

Angels and Insects is the pointless story of a man duped into marriage to cover a family secret. The costumes are an eyesore, and the script is often an earsore. I sat through it again because it's a bit like a train wreck: I couldn't turn away.

I hope I don't accidentally rent it again in a few years.

I don't know why, but I kept expecting this movie to get sappy and hollywood. Despite the theme, I think I considered this a mainstream movie about WWII, and we all know how those go. Thankfully, it was more true to itself than that.

Visually, psychologically, even musically (thanks to Philip Glass), Bent is spare and stylish. Though marketed as a concentration-camp drama, the setting is merely of a backdrop for the struggle of one man to accept love and move beyond himself, and the horrors of war are studied more obliquely.

Particularly telling is one scene that made me think and smirk at the same time: Clive Owen as Max is berated for being too rough--in imaginary sex. The imagination is his the proving ground, and the only expression of freedom allowed.

Oh, and Mick Jagger looks kinda cool in drag.

I think the scene where William Hurt is sitting in front of the couch talking to Blair Brown, who is laying on said couch, is one of the prettiest shots of two naked people I've ever seen in film.

There are a lot of pretty shots in Altered States. It reminded me of why I'm a Ken Russell fan in the first place, and at once made me feel guilty for not keeping up with him.

States is the story of Eddie Jessup, a professor searching for the ultimate truth, the primordial self--his version of God. He is driven at first by religious visions he had as a child, and finally by the discovery that what he sees in his search is becoming manifest physically. He is becoming his own truth.

The film started an isolation-tank craze in the 80s, and I have to admit it's something I've always wanted to try. Though I don't expect to be transformed into soup, like Dr. Jessup, I have that human desire to look inside myself to see what may be at the very core of it; to quiet this outer din and find that point of irrefutable reality within myself. Does it exist, or is Jessup right when he says: "The only truth is that there is no truth."

"Please don't, he's only eating me!"

"Move aside!"

"Mind your business! I shall be eaten by whoever I please!"

*BANG!*

Surreal, funny, rambling, surreal, gory, surreal, Cemetery Man is a mind-bending hoot. An Italian production, I think it was in English. I couldn't see evidence of dubbing, though the credits included "voca." I'm thinking that was for the Italian release. The confusion adds to the overall atmosphere. Rupert Everett is a zombie slaying night watchman at a cemetery where the dead won't stay dead. He takes it in stride, until he falls in love with a lovely widow. Again, and again. Something snaps, and the living become fair game.

Based on the Italian Dylan Dog comic, this flick has several plots, though none of them are particularly coherent. That's sort of the point. Or part of the point. Or I didn't get the point. But I did like it. I'm not a zombie fan, but Everett's matter-of-fact style thrown in with the sheer strangeness of the narrative proved entertaining.

If you're a fan of both David Lynch and Sam Raimi, as I am, this twister is a good bet for you.

Shit! I can't believe the coach kept him on the bench for being five minutes late!

Er, what I mean to say is, Hoop Dreams is pretty involving, even for a non-sports fan.

The trick to a documentary is to take a real-life story and create the same type of dramatic tension one finds in fiction. Hoop Dreams follows two Chigaco boys through highschool as they pursue their dreams of playing in the NBA. The viewer is drawn into the stories of William and Arthur immediately. In life as in fiction, things don't always turn out the way we expect, for better or worse.

At almost three hours, this is a good film to rent so you can take a break, though you may not want to. I was attentive from start to finish, anxious to find who would succeed. If you're not a sports fan, this movie is still for you. I couldn't care less about basketball. There's a lot of drama here, and a lot of things to cheer for and a few things to cry about. A successful documentary on every level; if you missed this in the theatre, go rent it now.

I've only done three movies so far today. Feeling a bit of a wimp. I think I'll do better tomorrow as I have a mess of renters. Did you know? Renting six at one time will get you funny looks at the local Blockbuster.

My first renter was Bound. This was what the Wachowskis were doing before The Matrix. I can't begin to explain how tiresome I find lesbian chic; nonetheless, this wasn't a bad flick. Tight plot, decent performances. There was some very pretty set design. Not a bad renter.

I'm thinking I shouldn't have seen another film after Monster's Ball. Anything else seems pale by comparison.

The Shipping News is nicely done: pretty pictures, good characters. It's a very gentle film. It's also predictable and slightly--very slightly--overdone. Note to filmmakers everywhere: please dispense with the summation narration. Just stop. You're hurting me, and I can't be the only one.

I'm a little tired, so I'm sure I'm not doing this film justice. Let me just say that it's a very good renter for a cold night.

Of the films I've seen so far during the marathon, Monster's Ball is my favorite. Remember what I said in the review for Hart's War? Less is more. Shut up and let the audience think. Marc Forster gets this, and gets it bang-on.

From the opening sequence to the final scene, Monster's Ball is art. Forster and his cinematographer Roberto Schaefer use the frame in unusual ways that draw the attention of the viewer to bits of color and strips of action. Often occluding most of the frame, these shots look like a gallery walk.

The story itself surprises at many turns by its sheer refusal of cliche. Each time you think you know what will happen next, you're wrong. Yet this isn't defiance for its own sake; this is a story with an emotional core that is raw and real and reaches out for your throat. The performances--especially Halle Berry's--are superb. I'd almost given up on Berry after some of her recent stints. This role makes up for it all, and I'm hoping it earns her an Oscar.

Fewer violins, and this might have been a good movie.

Hart's War is not a total disaster. The plot is decently written and compelling. It's gritty, but not overly realistic. It thinks a bit. Then the music swells, the audience is spoonfed, and all thought ceases. It's a damned shame.

While performances were adequate, the truth is most of the actors seemed lackluster. Colin Farrell was especially weak in the lead, and could have been better in another's hands. One standout was Marcel Iures--a charismatic SS Major, and a surprisingly sympathetic character.

While I won't spoil, the end of Hart's War is a prime example of one directorial decision destroying any chance a film had of being art. If the ending had come quickly and left the audience to mull it over, it would have raised the level of the entire film. But no. There had to be music, beauty shots, and a heartfelt voiceover. Stupid, stupid, stupid. It backfires, and the boxoffice shows it. Note to directors everywhere: less is more.

Side note: saw a preview for Death to Smoochy. This is one Robin Williams film I will be looking forward to. Nope, not kidding.

I'm a fan of the underdog. I wanted to like this movie, and went in with as positive an attitude as I could muster. I had especially high hopes after the opening street-luge scene, which left my head catching air.

Alas, my underdog turned out to be merely a dog.

I have seen the original Rollerball, but don't remember much of it, so will refrain from comparing the two. I will compaire Chris Klein to Keanu Reeves, who he was obviously meant to emulate. Klein loses. I'll compare Rebecca Romijn-Stamos to Raquel Welch just for the sheer hell of it. The Beckster loses. I'll compare Jean Reno to Jean Reno in anything else. What was he doing in this movie?

Worst bits: an outdoor night scene filmed entirely as if it were seen through night-vision goggles. The editing. Oh my, what craptacular editing. The soundtrack--but then I've never cared much for Eric Serra.

Good bits: sometimes you catch a glimps of Pink on the big video screen!

I am one of the ten people--those mythical creatures you may have heard of--who didn't like Rushmore. This is why I didn't believe the hype when The Royal Tenenbaums came out. I approached with skepticism, and only then after having been reassured that Bill Murray does not, in fact, kiss anyone.

This time I was pleasantly surprised. Wes Anderson's knack with drawing characters and Owen Wilson's quirky humor won a fan.

Tenenbaums is about a man coming of age--old age--and making the discovery that he would like the love of his family. In the process, he also decides to become a better person, more by default than on purpose. If it sounds sappy, it isn't. Gene Hackman is damned sharp as the self-confessed asshole Royal. Surrounded by people most of us hope we never meet in real life, he insists on having his way and taking everyone with him.

Tenenbaums could have been a bit shorter. I kept wondering if it was over yet, only to find one more vignette coming. I'm not a fan of extensive exposition, but many minutes could have been replaced with sentence or two, or even nothing. There was indulgent fluff to be had. That's my only complaint about what was an enjoyable flick. Nothing hard, plenty odd, and lots of fun.

Side note: saw a preview for Gangs of New York. Nice to see Daniel Day Lewis again. Too bad about Cameron Diaz.

Here I am back from eleven hours of movie hopping. Yes, I'm mighty tired. I think for the rest of the marathon I may limit myself to two or three in the theatre and do the rest at home. At least then I can get some laundry done.

Upon leaving the theatre, I heard an older Italian couple behind me, the gentleman praising the movie but puzzled: "Lantana, lantana, I like the movie, but what does this mean?" I turned around and said: "Lantana was the bush." This was all the explanation needed for a film that used themes like punctuation, repeating rhythmically yet with great subtlety, building a story that was at once cinematic and poetic. Lantana asks: "What would make a man cry like that?" and then answers in deep and unexpected ways.

I admit I've never been a fan of Anthony LaPaglia. He plays a lot of New York gangster types--a character I'm often bored with. I found myself delighted that an American should have to struggle with an Aussie accent, and tried to pick it apart. The joke was on me, as LaPaglia was born in Adelaide. The further joke: what an impressive performance. He plays Leon, a man who has gone numb and is flailing about for a modicum of inner reaction to anything. In the process he must solve a mystery, and answer questions of trust and loyalty.

Leon is part of an Altmanesque puzzle of faces--gorgeously-drawn characters who weave into each others' lives at oblique angles. There are no bad performances in this film, and no missteps. While Ray Lawrence guided his actors magically, I have to lay most of the laurels at the feet of the writer, Andrew Bovell, who wrote the screenplay based on his stage production. Bovell also had a hand in the classic Strictly Ballroom, and the excellent Head On.

Lantana swept the AFIs with good reason. This was a great start to a long day.

Side note: saw a preview for Resident Evil. It looks awful, but I'll go see it anyway because I have a soft spot for Milla Jovovich.

I don't expect much from a romantic comedy. I just want to laugh a couple times and go "awww, that's cute." Three to Tango was a Matthew Perry/Neve Campbell vehicle that went absolutely nowhere in the theatres (was it even released? I can't remember). This is no surprise, because it contains nothing gripping or unusual. But it did make me laugh a couple times, and I went "awww" maybe once.

Confession: I don't understand what's attractive about Perry. He just doesn't do it for me.

I'm awake, and ready to start. Most of today's schedule will be spent in a theatre, which is how I hope to do much of this. I have put together a mix of serious, good, bad, and ugly.

8:00 - 11:00: Whatever I can dig up around the house
11:50: Lantana
2:35: The Royal Tenenbaums
5:00: Rollerball
7:45: Hart's War

Of course a lot of the films I see will be ones I never intended to. Rollerball, for example. But when doing a marathon, it's important to put some sheer, horrible fluff in there so your brain doesn't explode. I've never done this for three days in a row--my brain may explode anyway.

When a great director makes a stinker like Dr. T and the Women, I worry. I wonder if he's lost his touch, and I'll end up suffering through another two or three horrors before I give up. Apparently Altman was just having a bad day, because Gosford Park is a wonderful thing.

For a newcomer to Altman: be patient. It is going somewhere, it just takes time to get there.

Gosford is the usual massive ensemble peopled with a jaw-dropping cast. I understand why it's done that way--otherwise you'd hardly notice anyone amongst the crowd. Maggie Smith and Helen Mirren both richly deserve their noms in the Supporting Actress category, and it's tough to choose the better performance. Clive Owen is yummy (imagine that!), and Ryan Phillipe is nicely typecast. I'd tell you more, but it's a teensy spoiler.

The film is remarkable on many levels, but one thing that delighted me in particular was the blocking--the sheer choreography of getting tons of people around that set as if it were a ballet.

This cross between Upstairs, Downstairs and Clue is not to be missed. It would make an excellent rental for a rainy night; it is a snuggle-up-and-figure-it-out flick.

And now, I'm heading for bed. No, I didn't intend to stay up through the whole marathon--I'm human, and staying up is for other things. I'll go back at it in the morning.

Sometimes I like Mimi Leder, sometimes I don't. She is certainly a maker of entertainment. Not out to provoke thought, Leder aims to keep your eyes wide open for a couple hours. In this, The Peacemaker succeeds. Lots of excitement, explosions, car chases, the works. Also hackneyed political statements and visual cliches out the ears. Her characters are a lot of fun, and this was a good ride for a renter.

One down.

Everyone needs a goal, right?

Sans plans this three-day weekend, I just got a hairbrained idea. How many movies can I watch between now and Monday night? I'm already in the middle of The Peacemaker, so I've got a good start. I figure I can go through my Netflix stuff, go out and see a couple (okay, more than a couple), and maybe to a run to Blockbuster for supplies. Will I go mad? Will my ass survive?

Stay tuned.

Whenever I have a weird dream, I find myself putting it to the tune of "Last Night I Had The Strangest Dream." Doesn't everyone?

Last night I had the strangest dream
I've ever dreamed before
I dreamed Ev Williams owned a Starbucks
And worked down on the first floor

Each day I bought a latte there
Each day I threw it out
I hate coffee but went to bask
In the heat of Ev's flirty pout

He looked quite hot in his full beard
He always wore a tie
He was Barista Maximus
With a sparkle in his eye

Ev knew I hated java beans
My love for coffee was fake
One day he pleased me mightily
With a tall raspberry shake

Last night I had the strangest dream
I've ever dreamed before
I dreamed Ev Williams owned a Starbucks
And worked down on the first floor

DISCLAIMER: I do not now, nor have I ever had, a crush on Ev Williams. I'm sure he's a nice person, don't get me wrong. But no crush. Also, I don't like full beards, though I don't think he has one in real life. Who knows--I have weird premonitory powers about facial hair. It's a curse.

Tonight I called up Kelly and said I was going to begin catching up on Oscar nominees. There were a few movies playing, including Black Hawk Down, Monster's Ball, and Gosford Park. "Oh, and look," I said, "Brotherhood of the Wolf is on at 6:50." "That doesn't exactly fit the category," he said "but..."

So yeah, we ended up seeing Brotherhood, because we'd both been pining to for some time. We'll catch up on Oscar later.

As for BotW, what a pretty, pretty film. Christophe Gans uses a variety of camera tricks, but he's generally careful to serve the story. Watch also for color: saturation, desaturation--he uses it to its full. This flick is pure eye candy. I'm sometimes critical of films where every frame is a poster shot, because they tend to lack substance otherwise (see The Cell), but Brotherhood is also an entertaining adventure story, complete with a monster, an enigmatic good guy, and a little romance. For reasons I can't yet pinpoint, Gans reminds me of one of my fave directors, Luc Besson. No, it's not because they're both French. Pacing and framing are familiar.

Everyone has been chattering about Mark Dacascos (if he looks familiar, you may have seen him on the television version of The Crow)--I think this may be because much of the cast lacks his extreme charisma. They're good, but he outshines them by a mile. He's the one to remember.

Clocking in at 2:21, it's a bit long. 20 minutes could easily have been chopped; however, it isn't uncomfortable for it's length, and will keep you watching to the end. I definitely recommend catching it before it leaves the theatres, as this is one that is served by a larger screen.

Literally.

There's a reason I didn't do my nom post as soon as they came out. I was up. I dutifully took notes on who got what. I wrote an email or two, and prepared to do my entry. Then: SRRKKKAAAK! Or whatever sound you think one's neck makes when it does that awful, painful thing that prevents you from moving it. For nearly two days. I'm better now, and I'm here finally to comment on the noms. Aren't you glad? Of course you are.

Now, I see a heck of a lot of movies in a year, but for some reason this year I've missed many of the nominees, so I'm going to refrain from commenting much more until I have the pertinent data. I will say this: missing Final Fantasy in the new Animated Feature category is a high crime, and to the Academy on this count I say: fuck you very much. Any other bitterness I may have is expected, but that was a blindside, and inexcusable.

I have seen all the Best Film noms but one, and so I'll say this: I wish it could be Moulin Rouge, but know it won't be. I hope it will be Lord of the Rings, and think it might be. I bet it will be A Beautiful Mind, and wish it weren't.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have some films to watch.

The question: Will Russell Crowe win again?
The answer: Well, yes.

A Beautiful Mind was not a challenging film. It was neither serious nor transformative, despite the main character's triumphs. It was a decent piece of entertainment. For two hours, it was engaging. Everything was adequate and expected: there was emotional manipulation, above-average performances, and reliable direction. I wasn't bowled over, but I did enjoy myself.

Crowe will win for two reasons: First, this is the type of movie that is perfect for Oscar. It is not beyond a general audience, and for the most part it doesn't talk down to them. Second, Crowe's performance was very, very good. Indeed, the most enjoyable part of the movie by far was watching him work his way through the part with his usual attention to detail.

There has been buzz for Connelly, but the part doesn't merit consideration. Her character is explored primarily through exposition, and we don't get to see much depth. This is a shame, as there was ample opportunity, and she is certainly up to the task. Truly, this is Crowe's film, and though Connelly sparkles in what she is offered, everyone else walks through their orbit of Crowe. I recommend A Beautiful Mind for his performance (because no one wants to miss the winner, right?), but expect only that, as this film will not change your life, nor even make an appreciable impression. Just go to be entertained.

I know, I'm supposed to be pro valentine, but I got a kick out of this:

I still have a few days to plan...

First, thank you to everyone who participated in the Random Valentine contest. You'll all be getting a little something in the mail from me. This was fun, and I believe it will become an annual fixture here at frytopia.

And now, the moment you've all been waiting for...

My valentine writes:

I am Salt's favorite sister-in-law, I believe, and as such, she would want me to be recognized as someone who gives and receives hearts.

She introduced me to your entertaining site which is initiating me into the world of computer communication.

Gayle (who is a fellow Oregonian!) is my Random Valentine because she's new to the web, and I want to show her what I feel is the most important thing about it: the web connects us to people in real life. I've met many real-life friends through this amazing machine, and exchanged countless little gifts via post with people I only know by their electrons. To me, this is the deepest value of this medium, and I'm glad to share it with her.

SMOOCH!

You have four hours. If you haven't entered, now is certainly the time. I'll be getting up early tomorrow to make a choice.

I've really enjoyed the contest and all the entries. Big smooches to every one of you!

New crush, my lovelies.

I first saw Vincent Perez in Queen Margot. I saw quite a lot of him. I'm sure I saw the second Crow, but for some reason he wasn't as memorable. Erm, okay I can probably think of why. Go gawk.

Red alert for Trubie fans! Our favorite Trubiedor (giggle) has made a teensy move. Adjust your bookmarks or suffer the dire consequences! A life without Trubie is like a life without sunshine! I will not work without Trubie in my contract! TRUBIE LIVES!

Heh, she's gonna kill me.

Remember the dulcimer fiasco? Well I'm happy to report that I was finally able to return the instrument, and the very same day the merchant sent the refund to my paypal account. I was very impressed with her integrity. It's little things like this that restore my faith in my fellow humanoids.

You are the Web-Goddess of all that is good....and because next time you need your haircut, your hair will be in my hands! *evil laugh*

I am also a Random Valentine-r! I randomly choose Valentines! I think it would be most awesome to have you be one valentines and for me to be yours.

You've seen a few of the entries--while I didn't put up each one, I want everyone to know I LOVE YOU ALL! The deadline is tomorrow at midnight, and I'll announce the winner on February 8. There's still time! Be mine!

The newest Greenshoes mix is from Kathryn. I call the flavor Onion rings at the Roxy, which is a local 24-hour hangout where you can see any color of hair at any time of day. Go get your indie fix.

Trubie finds someone who is an even bigger X-phile than she is.

True and I share a love of graveyards. I like them because they're quiet and green--like a park, and there's hardly anyone there. You can browse among the stones, have a picnic, whatever, and not run into dogs chasing frisbees. Hopping on her bandwagon, here are my two favorite graveyard pics:

Imagine going through life with this name, much less death.

The gravestone looked like it was salty, so Anna paid Dave a dollar to find out. It wasn't.

I won't be having a gravestone, but if I did, I'm at a loss for something clever to engrave thereon. Maybe: "This wasn't in the plan, dammit."

"...you are one of my internet idols. I look up to you and think you're so swell and keen. Plus you have a cool nose ring."

"I will send you a Valentine's Day present in return. I may send you one anyway."

Two very effective tactics for getting a valentine. What's your tactic? Don't keep me in suspense, tell me what's in it for me.* Seven days and counting, valentine.

*Note: Bribes are not really necessary, and probably illegal.