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CINEMA SEEN - "Pandora and the Nine Dwarves" By William Margold Whenever I write a column worthy enough to be rolled over to my website (www.billmargold.com), Jay Bee...my greatly appreciated Guam-based web master...insists that I give it a headline/title. Therefore, since I’d like very much for this column to have a life after its current LAXPRESS run...it’s going to be called "Pandora and the Nine Dwarfs." In what appears to be a desperate attempt by those in charge of The Academy Awards to b-r-o-a-d-e-n the appeal of the Best Picture Oscar by expanding that category to 10 nominees--- almost everything went wrong to the extent that with the exception of James Cameron’s competition annihilating, awesomely "Pandorable" AVATAR, and perhaps two or three other titles---there really aren’t that many valid Best Picture contenders among the rest of the nine. And with the egregious exclusions of the magnificent STAR TREK, the joyful JULIE AND JULIA, and the enchanting (500) DAYS OF SUMMER from the grotesquely overstuffed list, plus the inane inclusion (since it was also nominated for Best Animated Feature) of the admittedly enjoyable UP, further accentuating the flatulent double-fisted folly, the whole damn thing strongly resembles "a cinematic cluster copulation." However, even though they were seemingly dumbly dealt, I’ve got to play the couple of mangled hands of mostly forgettable Best Film nominee cards out. Thankfully however, at least in the case of PRECIOUS, I am blessed with the following sentiments from Cinema Seen contributor Pam Jones. Based on the novel "Push" by Sapphire, the raunchy, raw movie, starring Gabourey Sidibe as Clareece "Precious" Jones as an overweight illiterate black 16 year old in Harlem with one child (and close to giving birth to her second) and Mo’Nique as her mother will indeed capture your attention, and maybe even scar your brain tissue. I only wish that the movie didn’t look so cheap. But maybe it needed to be like that to put that extra edge on the film. As for my own thoughts about the dismal film, which makes a very strong for mandatory birth control, other than acknowledging Mo’Nique’s devastating performance, I don’t think that it’s any accident that the words "precious" and "hopeless" both have eight letters. I could spend the rest of this column burbling about the wonders of AVATAR, but I’ve still got eight other titles to discuss (four of which were handled in previous issues). UP was a nice little animated movie, although, as previously noted, it has absolutely no business taking "up" space here. DISTRICT 9 eventually became tedious in its attempt to be ironic. THE HURT LOCKER failed to detonate any emotional response from me...except yawning. And Quentin Tarantino’s ridiculous INGLORIOUS BASTERDS was simply a ponderously imitative travesty. Joining "District 9" as two other movies with virtually no reason whatsoever to be in the Best Film category are the emotionally vacant AN EDUCATION and the uncomfortably cloying THE BLIND SIDE. On one hand, I couldn’t help thinking about the trouble I’d get into if I were to frolic about with an underage girl, as the activities within "An Education" unraveled, and yet there was nary an iota of outrage evident by anyone in the film. And on the other hand, although based on fact, the simple witted fairytale nonsense of "The Blind Side" (poor black football player gets adopted by a well to do white family, and even winds up as a Baltimore Raven) caused me to have sardonic visions of such a storyline being recklessly played out many more times...with disastrous results. Of all the titles being discussed here ...only Jason Reitman’s UP IN THE AIR, featuring a very ingratiating George Clooney as a boy/man with terminal wanderlust, is a production that most likely would have made the final cut...even if the Best Film category had stayed at five. And finally, the Coen Brothers’ delightfully quirky A SERIOUS MAN is noteworthy, if for no other reason than it "almost" made me feel guilty about failing Mr. Solomon’s Hebrew School classes at Vista Del Mar repeatedly, and therefore never having gone through the Bar Mitzvah experience. Note...I said "almost." And as exasperated as I always made the frantically gesticulating Mr. Solomon, by rendering Hebrew into a truly lost language, he never failed to provide me with a tiny blue box of glistening rock candy at the end of every class. Indeed...while some memories may well melt in the mouth...they will never melt in the mind. end NOTE: Originally published in LA Xpress, February 25, 2010, issue. |