Todd Solondz might be the most polarizing comedy director no one’s ever heard of. The reputation of his films proceed them; a shroud of controversy seems to surround his work, which frequently depicts explicit sexuality, including pedophilia and rape, not to mention murder, exploitation, and ridicule channeled through a pitch-black misanthropic irony. And yet you might as well be speaking another language bringing up his name and filmography with a mainstream crowd. Even in the circles in which he’s known, his sense of humor is a decidedly acquired taste. So specific, in fact, that his latest film, “Life During Wartime,” may come as a shock to his fans. And not the sort of shock they’re used to.

A direct follow up to probably his most well known film, 1998’s “Happiness,” “Life During Wartime” provides a notably more contemplative take on the lives of Solondz’s characters, who have been deliberately and entirely recast for this sequel. Yes, it has its moments of biting humor, dark caricatures, and discomfort, but this time around, he approaches them with a subtler, more refined eye. “Happiness” is a busy, sprawling movie—“Wartime” is a brief string of conversations reactive to the action of that film.

It has the tendency to come off initially disappointing, perhaps because it is his least funny film. But if it is his least funny film, then it is intentionally so; for a director who has tirelessly redefined the term ‘mature content,’ Solondz finally feels as though he himself is maturing. The result may be less fun, but it’s probably more valuable.

And his characters breathe that maturation. In “Happiness,” Bill Maplewood (then Dylan Baker, now Ciarán Hinds) is a struggling pedophile; he is defined and condemned by the things he does. His reintroduction in “Life During Wartime” is upon release from prison, where his sole motive is to track down his son and conduct an amateur psychoanalysis on the damage his behavior caused. Hinds is solemn and introverted in the role; Baker was oily, narcissistic, and well—Childish, if you’ll forgive the phrase.

Maplewood’s recurring dream is a perfect visual metaphor for not only the changes he has undergone between films, but the tones of the films themselves. In “Happiness,” he dreams of an unspoiled park, complete with picnickers and strolling couples enjoying absolute tranquility—Before he loads an assault rifle and lays them all to waste. In “Wartime,” Maplewood revisits the park, where a single elusive individual, scrubbed and out of focus, turns to him with a rose in hand.

What I find most interesting, however, is not the way Solondz reconsiders these characters, but how he reconsiders the idea of the sequel. He’s dabbled before in casting multiple performers in a single role—His last film, “Palindromes,” had eight actresses portraying its protagonist. But with “Life During Wartime” he commits entirely, while at the same time creating a film purposefully asimilar to the existing work.

It may not be as exciting or as groundbreaking a film as “Happiness” is and was, but it’s more interesting for its reservations. The converse, ‘Hollywood’ approach would have been to outdo the original, to push the envelope even further, and the result would be infinitely less genuine. Instead, Solondz throws a curveball: treating his characters with unprecedented compassion (though only by comparison to his other films), and challenging our preconceived notions of both what a sequel is, and what a Todd Solondz film is.

“Life During Wartime” won’t win over many detractors (they probably haven’t heard of it anyway), and it even runs the risk of aliening fans expecting more vitriol—Leave it to Solondz to polarize audiences even when his shroud of controversy dissipates. The man has an absolutely uncompromising vision, and he’s still one of the greatest comedy directors working today, whether you’ve heard of him or not.

“The Last Exorcism” is a pretty interesting film right up until it tries to scare you. Told in the faux documentary style popularized recently by “Paranormal Activity” and “District 9,” director Daniel Stamm’s take on the oft-botched demonic possession sub-genre begins tantalizingly well. At its root is a terrific character, evangelical preacher and admitted shyster Reverend Cotton Marcus (Patrick Fabian), who sets out to produce a documentary exposing exorcismal ritual as a mere placebo for the affected.

Like a magician revealing trade secrets, we follow Marcus and his two-man film crew down Louisiana way to the Sweetzer residence, where he pulls out all the stops, first feeding into the symptoms of the peculiar young girl Nell (Ashley Bell), then to his entire prefabricated ceremony, complete with a hidden iPod wailing stock demon sound effects, and a crucifix rigged to exert steam when pressed. Mr. Sweetzer (Louis Herthum) and, more importantly, Nell eat it up. Cut to Marcus counting his dough.

The first forty or so minutes of the film work because Marcus is charismatic and interesting, not to mention very funny in his disingenuous showmanship. But the scenes play subtly suspenseful as well because the audience knows the rug will eventually be pulled from under him—And when it is, it’s a that shame things so quickly spiral into the sloppy and the spoiled. More so than “Quarantine” (or consequently, “[REC]”) or “Paranormal Activity,” “The Last Exorcism” is a film being advertised (and seemingly relentlessly) with a greatest hits compilation of its most horrific moments, cherry-picked from the few sequences that actually contain them.

Not only does that diminish the impact of the shots in context, but all the subtlety and restraint of the first half crumbles around them once the hardcore horror gets going. What works about “The Last Exorcism” is its intimacy, and as it wears on, its scope exponentially widens. Suddenly, the film crew are our central characters while new ones are still being introduced. It climaxes in an ending both abrupt and irrelevant, leaving what should feel intriguing unsatisfying.

The movie might have worked better had it retained its focus on Marcus throughout the second half. Maybe the faithless preacher being scared straight is old hat, but the story really feels like it’s leaning that way until it’s not. Until it isn’t even about Marcus anymore—It’s just about going through the horror movie motions. Keeping it simple would at least have kept it coherent; instead, the film balloons into a sufficiently atmospheric, but ultimately dull and unfrightening chase film. The third act has the cast running into and out of houses, sheds, and vans like characters from a “Scooby-Doo” cartoon.

The hectic disorganization sullies much of what I found so compelling about the film initially—The beginning of “The Last Exorcism” is effective expressly because it isn’t trying to be scary. When it tries, it’s apparent it’s trying. Ultimately, I’d rather see the documentary (real or otherwise) about the fake exorcism than the real one it becomes.

But if I am afraid, it’s that the faux-film aesthetic Stamm borrows will soon be exploited and crippled by increasingly derivative filmmakers. “The Last Exorcism,” despite its flaws, further proves that the technique is particularly well suited to horror (the trailer for “The Virginity Hit” makes a clear case against comedy), and had the writing in its second half lived up to the first, it really might have been something special.

Alas, like “1408,” the movie simply has nowhere to go once called to deliver on its premise. The disappointment is even more profound here; the suspense, the characterization, and the sly sense of humor are all spot on. And then it tries to scare you.

I’m sorry, men of the world, but “The Expendables” is a piece of crap. In fact, as a man, I’m a little embarrassed that this putrid, structureless, diarrheic pile entertained a single one of you. Without an ounce of artistry, Sylvester Stallone has essentially created “The Twilight Saga” for men, and just as that series caters to a lowest-common-denominator teenage girl audience, Stallone deposits this Cro-Magnon mess for males, simultaneously juvenile and out-of-touch.

The suffocating machismo of it all makes it tough to pick a place to start. First, the film is hideous. On a technical level, many of the shots are out of focus, smearing the ugly greens and browns into a muddy pastiche. The rest is soiled by awful CG that completely undercuts the entire eighties aesthetic. I’m trying hard to think of something less conducive to an action throwback than a half-dozen rifles with animated laser-sights firing bullets that spill digital blood—No luck yet.

Even forgiving the film its bland palette, cinematographic shortcomings, and near total lack of practical effects, “The Expendables” misfires on the single most obvious ingredient for exciting action—Compelling set pieces. It takes place, almost in its entirety, on a small South American island where there is a dock, a palace of some sort, and apparently nothing else. Those backdrops set the stage for some dismally choreographed shootouts where, despite the exotic locale and 80 million dollar budget, “The Expendables” maintains a consistently amateurish feel.

And for a movie positively brimming with A-List (or once A-List) action personalities, how about some personality? Ultimately, it doesn’t even register that Stallone assembled such a dynamic ensemble—There isn’t a single distinct personage among them. Sure, Jason Statham likes knives and Stallone prefers firearms, but that’s about where the definition ends. Anyone could have played these nobodies, and it reduces what should be the film’s sole distinguishing feature to mere stunt casting.

Regardless, there isn’t a flaw I’ve illuminated that would hold water if the film was even fun, but “The Expendables” is truthfully one of the most boring of the year. Call me desensitized, but I can only see so many torsos explode, so many fatal stabbings, and so many explosions before I start to yawn and check my watch. Action only works when there’s something at stake, and Stallone does his best Michael Bay impression in his flagrant disregard for that simple storytelling truth.

Nothing is ever at stake in “The Expendables.” Ever. Not one of the many protagonists is placed in even momentarily convincing danger, and with almost no story to back up the dreary killing, the action loses all dramatic impact. Stallone’s assembly line slaughter has neither the gravity to make us care nor the creativity to make us squirm—Unless we’re squirming out of anxious impatience.

I’m not an idiot. I realize “The Expendables” is more “Grindhouse” than it is “Rambo,” but it fails even as a disposable homage to eighties action. It might be a class reunion of sorts, but it’s the kind where you end up sitting around talking about expired memories instead of making new ones. In recalling the cheesy charm of the decade that made him famous, Stallone could stand to do far more embellishing. He succeeds in making a film with an eighties mindset, but it’s a hollow, lifeless effort that completely lacks the charisma that makes those films memorable twenty-some years later.

Conversely, “The Expendables” would be forgettable no matter what unfortunate decade birthed it. And yet, here in the year 2010, this is the number one film in America two weeks running—I guess I just don’t get it. Everything I go to the movies for, and not just the frivolous stuff like story and character, is completely and entirely absent here.

Men of the world, if this is really what you find entertaining, then consider this my resignation.

“The Switch” is the kind of film I’ve seen a hundred times, and dread seeing for the hundred-and-first. Admittedly, romantic comedy ain’t my bag, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t sniff out the good, the bad, and the mediocre. “The Switch” has stars Jason Bateman, Jennifer Aniston, and Jeff Goldblum sucking on a script that belongs so completely in the third category that there’s almost nothing else to say.

—Almost. The screenplay by Allan Loeb knocks the three talented performers flat on their behinds; watching them chew the lame dialogue to a consistency with which they can expectorate a joke is often more entertaining than the line itself. Goldblum in particular turns up his signature stutter, abstracting sentences to the extent that they often are very funny, no thanks to the words themselves.

Loeb’s script is vanilla, but in the hands of directing duo Josh Gordon and Will Speck (whose previous work includes the Will Ferrell figure skating farce “Blades of Glory” and the short-lived Geico “Cavemen” television series), maybe that’s for the best. The issue is that the pair seem to recede from the picture altogether. Safely lit, with a bland, point-and-shoot aesthetic, Gordon and Speck aren’t minuses in the equation, but because or in spite of them (whichever it is), “The Switch” only ever zeroes out.

Loeb honestly deserves the lion’s share of the blame; when he isn’t crowd surfing on cliché, he takes some ludicrous liberties with reality that do add up—To lazy storytelling. Even the execution of his premise is delivered disingenuously.

Here’s the scenario: Kassie Larson (Aniston), 40 and single, decides to have herself artificially inseminated. Never mind that she chooses to do so amidst some swanky, bizarre fertility party (because I actually kind of like that)—The idea that her donor’s “ingredient” would not be pre-acquired is beyond naive. Logic denotes the party would occur not only after the father-to-be has procured his genetic sample, but also after Kassie has undergone her end of the procedure—“The Switch” presumes neither of these very logical things have happened, and in fact relies upon it.

Instead, it shakes out something like this—After creating what would undoubtedly be a very awkward scenario for Kassie’s donor (sending him into the bathroom while, presumably, the hopeful mommy and her guests literally wait for him to masturbate), Loeb adds insult to injury by expecting us to believe the semen sample would be left unattended on the bathroom shelf. Come on. Enter Jason Bateman as Wally Mars, who, with an utterly prefabricated drunkenness, accidently blows the wad—And whose genius idea for replacing it is to become a sort of secret santa for sperm.

“The Switch” isn’t a terrible film from there on out. It radically changes gears as seven years pass and Wally—Having no memory of the night in question—Reunites with Kassie and his son. Traditional romantic comedy beats ensue. Bateman and Aniston have decent chemistry together, but it’s his relationship with child actor Thomas Robinson that feels most sincere. Pity the kid is written like a precocious android programmed to say the darndest things; Robinson is cute, but he’s reading Loeb’s lines.

If “The Switch” had had an original idea or had taken a single gamble with its storytelling, the cast might really have brought it together—As it stands, they do a good job of not embarrassing themselves. They lend their warmth and expertise to a dead script, but in this case, it’s too little too late.

“The Switch” might be a lost cause, but who knows. Maybe the hundred-and-second time’s a charm.

By Le Anne Lindsay (Tinsel & Tine)

Colin’s review of  The Other Guys (see below) makes me more interested in seeing it now; from the trailer, the movie looks a bit asinine.  Perhaps it’s because the type of humor that really makes me laugh, not just smile or be amused, is odd, nonsensical, off beat humor, of which The Extra Man (Co Directors Shari Springer Berman & Robert Pulcini) has in spades!

Who better than Kevin Kline to play the part of Henry Harrison, an eccentric, old ex-aristocrat who is both sexually repressed and misogynistic; yet spends a great deal of his time being an escort or “Rosen Knight” to a 90 year old Billionairess, Vivian Cudlip (Marian Seldes).  Because women tend to out live men,  a society widow often needs an “Extra Man” to invite to dinner parties, art openings, the opera and such. It’s a coveted position, as  the “Extra Man” reaps the benefits of dining sumptuously and rubbing elbows with a social set that would otherwise be out of his means.

Although I’m not an extra man, I did have a similar arrangement with a Vivian Cudlip of my own named Ms Monte. Ms Monte was a diminutive, fabulous, Chanel wearing, 80 something, grand dame. She was a benefactor to a theater company where I was working and for some reason she took a shine to me.  Started inviting me to concerts, ballets, fine dinners and  fashion shows – all expenses paid of course. My friend used to refer to her as my Miss Havisham from “Great Expectations”.  I made the mistake once of not calling Ms Monte to thank her for one of our evening’s festivities until almost a week later and found myself no longer in her good graces.  I sent a letter of apology, to no avail, she had moved on to a new companion.  I must say,  wouldn’t mind finding another similar arrangement; after all, I’m delightful company, know how to handle myself in polite society, and …  but back to the movie.

Louis Ives (Paul Dano) is a wan, self-conscious young man with a penchant for women’s clothing and under garments. After being relieved of his teaching position, precipitated by a bra incident.  Louis moves to New York to pursue writing and answers Henry Harrison’s ad for a room to rent. The apartment is a junk shop, filled with Christmas balls and God knows what. Louis’ room is small, sparse and barely private.  But he becomes intrigued by his idiosyncratic landlord and becomes his protégé of sorts.

The film has a literary feel; in fact parts of Louis life are narrated as he likes to imagine he’s a character in a F. Scott Fitzgerald novel. Often scenes end with a circle going black and opening again, adding to the feel of a much earlier time period. There’s a cast of other odd characters played by a very thin Katie Holmes, Dan Heyada, Celia Weston, Patti D’Arbanville and a most hilarious, John C. Reilly as Gershon.

As Henry is fond of saying – “So there we are, where are we?”

Mao’s Last Dancer

(Director Bruce Beresford) was shown at IHouse last week.  The film premiered at Toronto last year, but this was the first I knew of it.

The film is a biopic based on the autobiography by Li Cunxin, a ballet dancer who created an international incident in the early 80’s by defecting from the Republic of China. Cunxin was invited to the US as an intern with the Houston Ballet and was soon catapulted into ballet stardom.

I assumed I was going to see a foreign film from China; actually, it was produced in Australia and doesn’t feel like a foreign film at all.   There are scenes shot in China, which are subtitled and capture the cold, stark, oppression of  rural  Qingdao under Chairman Mao’s Republic of China, but on the whole the film truly feels as if it were filmed in the US in the late 70’s, early 80’s. It’s not just the sets, there’s something about the very color of the film that feels perfectly dated.  Along with the actors.

Bruce Greenwood is quite good as Houston Ballet Artistic Director, Ben Stevenson, his very kind manner of speech and effeminate gestures seem right on target.  I was also quite impressed with all the dancing we are treated to in the film. It makes me wonder if Li Cunxin could have been that much better than Chi Cao, who plays him in the movie.

Although the film can’t help but be a commentary on political freedom, at its heart its a film about the love of dancing.

I had a great Philly experience last night watching Rocky and Rocky II on the steps of the Art Museum as part of the PFS collaboration with 2010 Rolling Road Show.  It was so surreal seeing a scene in a movie take place exactly where you are and seeing the same exact view side by side, present and past!

With such a classic, simple story structure, Sly Stallone was able to capture something that catches an audience up in it every time.

I only made it through the first two films, give a shout out if you stayed til 3am to finish Rocky III!

By Colin George (FARCE/Film)

The levels of unreality are stacked so high in “Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World” that it takes a certain head-in-the-clouds mentality to see over them. Fueled by graphic novel gasoline in a vehicle straight out of “Super Mario Kart,” director Edgar Wright’s third film (following genre parodies “Shaun of the Dead” and “Hot Fuzz”) is a roaringly imaginative, high-octane action flick that may send unrepentant adults running—While treating the rest of the audience to a Neo Tokyo monster truck rally they won’t soon forget.

The premise is simple; it’s the lightning-paced editing that’s complex. Canadian slacker Scott Pilgrim (played by an uncommonly curt Michael Cera) meets the girl of his dreams, Ramona Flowers (Mary Elizabeth Winstead). However, the scaffolding to her heart is fraught with as many ladders as a game of “Donkey Kong;” he must defeat her seven evil ex-lovers in fight sequences that run a gamut of 16-bit references, from “Street Fighter” to “Mortal Kombat,” or it’s game over for their relationship.

Yet “Scott Pilgrim” isn’t a violent movie. The titular, twitter generation twenty-something bounces back with the resiliency of aLooney Toon after each subsequent pounding. And there isn’t a drop of blood in the picture—Enemies appropriately explode into a shower of coins when slain. It’s a creative decision pulled straight from the pages of the comic book series by Bryan Lee O’Malley (on which the film is based), but it communicates a poisonous message for advertisers and mainstream audiences with all the subtlety of a flashing neon sign: this is a niche movie if ever there was one.

The box office returns said as much; “Scott Pilgrim” will be best appreciated by those who have played “The Legend of Zelda” and can pick out a stray sound effect from “Sonic the Hedgehog,” but acknowledgement of such esoteric points of reference is entirely nonessential. My instinct is that almost anyone with an open mind will be equally swept up in the white-water current of a very fun film.

The action sequences are a blast. Compared more than once to Quentin Tarantino’s “Kill Bill” (in which Uma Thurman stylishly exacts vengeance on five choice acquaintances), Wright’s film is just as successful at innovating action. Each of Scott’s bouts is accentuated by a unique gimmick—Chris Evans plays action star and evil ex Lucas Lee, who beats up on Pilgrim with his entire stunt team in tow; the ruthless Katayanagi Twins are dispatched via sound-wave avatars during a battle of the bands; Todd Ingram (Brandon Routh) is a vegan with telekinetic powers—The diversity of these sequences, beautifully, epileptically shot by cinematographer Bill Pope, keeps the premise from ever becoming stale.

Where the film does falter, at least in comparison to books, is in its inability to genuinely evoke audience empathy. Partly, this is because six graphic novels are being sandwiched into a 112-minute film. Trimming the fat, inescapably, means nipping at the arteries of the books’ heart. Wright was right to emphasize the kung fu over the lovey-dovey minutia, and in less altruistic hands, “Scott Pilgrim” might have been pitched as a six-part franchise (God help us).

Ultimately, your ability to connect with “Scott Pilgrim” lies in your ability to detach yourself from emotional expectation. “Cute” might be the best way to describe his relationship with Ramona, and the layers of nuance developed over however many hundreds of pages in the comics is largely absent in this adaptation. Still, it’s not a problem so much as it is a trade-off, and though the balance could be better, Wright improves upon O’Malley’s work just as often.

Know going in that it’s a movie about love, not romance. Know that the experience is more sensory, less sensitive, and you’ll find plenty to marvel at. A kaleidoscope of brilliant brawling with visuals like a laser light show, “Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World” is resplendent with newness in an age where comic books films are a dime a dozen and all either look like “Spider-Man” or “300.”

Its wily, unfettered charm will be lost on literalists. Wright’s movie is a gee-whiz-wow-bang fantasy cartoon wrapped tight in hyperbole—And as the unrepentant adults disperse, the kids will rejoice.

Maybe I’m rebounding off of the mediocre “Dinner for Schmucks,” or maybe I’m rebounding off of an entire season of lackluster comedy; either way, “The Other Guys” is like a breath of fresh air. It feels like eons since anyone’s batted a consistent laugh average—But Adam McKay and Will Ferrell do reliably that. It might seem like a passive aggressive compliment, but in this chortle-starved summer beggars can’t be choosers.

At its most embryonic state, the movie works because it’s built on the solid, if elementary, foundation of pairing Ferrell with Mark Wahlberg. Wahlberg has a deft, underexploited comedic potential that he, his agent, or whoever, has critically ignored. Roles like his in “Boogie Nights” and “I Heart Huckabees” make a case for an actor that should lay off the heavy drama every so often and recoil with something silly. I honestly believe Wahlberg is the best part of the epically awful “Happening,” and that there isn’t an ounce of his performance that isn’t calculated—How anyone could read Shyamalan’s script and not burst out laughing is beyond me.

His pairing with Ferrell is a match made in comedy heaven, and the two play off each other well. Of course, this is a more restrained Ferrell than many may have expected, but it’s a role that suits him following his over-the-top performance in “Step Brothers.” Besides, when released from the shackles of his character—Paper-pushing “fake cop” Allen Gamble—Ferrell’s performance is hit and miss. Exploding into a shrieking rage during a ‘Good Cop, Bad Cop’ routine gone awry is one of the film’s funniest moments. Revealing his ex-life as a flamboyant pimp? Not so much.

But even with its pecking detractors, “The Other Guys” is never unfunny for long. Once we’ve established our two protagonists—Via a bizarre and amusing lion and tuna metaphor—It is generally fun just to watch them blunder their way through the rest of the movie. Wahlberg’s character is Terry Hoitz, Allen’s partner, and the short-fused catalyst for his first big trip out of the office. Their dynamic warmly satirizes the eighties buddy cop cliché, but more often is a simply a vehicle for short-form character sketches.

If there is a problem with the movie, it’s that the plot is astronomically overcomplicated, neither clever nor compelling. Laughter is usually the only bridge connecting one idea to the next, and the constituent scenes sometimes fail to function as a unit. Worse yet, terrific performers like Steve Coogan are stuffed into straight-man roles, and ought to be espousing humor, not plot.

Regardless, this movie has it where it counts. Its lack of focus may detract slightly from the overall experience, but it only serves to highlight what “The Other Guys” ultimately is—Mindless summer entertainment. My approach to comedy has always been that character is paramount, but when you’re knocking off something like this, the only thing that really matters is its ability to make me laugh. And for the first time in months, I feel like I got my funny bone’s worth.

Ferrell and McKay never pretend to be auteurs of deep or provocative comedy—Jay Roach of “Dinner for Schmucks” didn’t either—But I laughed more. Much more. There’s a reason comedy is called the most subjective genre; a movie like this is dangerous because when you put all your chips on the gags, you’re going all or nothing—Either you’ll find “The Other Guys” funny or you won’t. For me, the film is a return to form for a duo that has disappointed me with their previous two efforts; its no “Anchorman,” but it’s far and away superior to “Talladega Nights” and more consistent than “Step Brothers.”

More importantly, it’s far and away superior to “Dinner for Schmucks” and whatever other marginally amusing film is concurrently playing. In a summer of lackluster comedy, every chortle should be cherished, and “The Other Guys” has them to spare.

by Le Anne Lindsay (Tinsel & Tine)

The Free Library of Philadelphia presented a special  Nanny McPhee book signing event with Academy Award-Winning actress and screenwriter Emma Thompson on Friday afternoon. PFS was among the  invited press to cover the event. Otherwise, the signing was only open to local children organizations (Kids 4 Change, Caring People Alliance, Project H.O.M.E.,  The Rowan House, The Girard College Elementary School, Spring Garden Academy, Christian Street YMCA and West Philadelphia YMCA).

I fell in love with these little future film buffs from Project H.O.M.E. (lft. to rt. Keyana, Shamiyyah and Ceyana). I’ve never seen the movie Nanny McPhee (Director Kirk Jones), but these girls were able to fill me in on the particulars of the first feature with great detail, and all three can’t wait to see Nanny McPhee Returns (Director Susanna White) in theaters August 20th. They also seemed genuinely excited to receive a copy of the book; so much so they immediately began to read to me aloud.  (by the way, how do you tell a kid to sound out a word like “does”?  I certainly wasn’t about to get into verb tense).

I don’t know who was more excited by the arrival of Emma Thompson, me or the kids!  She looked wonderful as you can see from these pics. Although I kinda hoped she’d come dressed in warts and the long tooth.  One of the children asked Thompson why she became an actress.  She replied that she first considered being a hospital administrator.  I think, although not nearly as glamorous or lucrative,  she would have done equally well as an elementary school teacher.  She was so good with the kids, entertaining, educating, but at the same time conversing with them as if they were adults.  The children in turn were attentive and asked some very good movie making questions, which prompted Thompson to reveal some fun behind the scenes CGI techniques.

Click HERE to listen to complete Q&A with the children.

I’m assuming Thompson is on a book signing, press junket tour for Nanny McPhee Returns. I was informed about this event last minute and wasn’t given a press release,  so not sure if the Free Library of Philadelphia asked to be a stop on the tour or if they were approached to host.  Either way, I’m always up for meeting celebs in my own backyard. More importantly, a couple of lucky children now have a great show and tell(Emma Thompson signed book) to bring back to school this fall.

What was next on my agenda? Seeing Julia Roberts in Eat, Pray, Love opening day!  See my commentary on Tinsel & Tine.

By Colin George (FARCE/Film)

For the initiated, Scott Pilgrim needs no introduction. Everyone else, take a seat. In 2004, Canadian cartoonist Bryan Lee O’Malley unleashed his heroic, hapless (also Canadian) twenty-something on the world in the first of a six part graphic novel saga. In the series, Scott (who shares his name with a song by the obscure nineties band, Plumtree) falls for the girl of his dreams—Only to learn he must trump her seven evil ex-lovers in increasingly outrageous bouts of mortal combat to continue his courtship.

Drawn in a style that mimics Japanese manga and utilizing an ear finely tuned to the cultural stethoscope, O’Malley’s first book garnered immediate recognition and widespread popularity. His clout has grown with the release of each subsequent volume—the last of which debuted in late July—but a big-screen adaptation of his small-town character’s life was in development practically from inception.

And it never hurts to have someone like iconic English comedy director Edgar Wright in on the ground floor. “I first heard of Scott Pilgrim in 2004 when Bryan Lee O’Malley’s recently released first volume was pressed into my hands,” he says. “Given that my previous work has strived to mix up the mundane with the insane, I was hooked immediately.”

Of course, Wright had his own major success story the same year. After directing television for the BBC throughout the late nineties, and developing the cult-classic sitcom Spaced for Channel 4, Wright’s career exploded with the release of his smart zombie spoof Shaun of the Dead. Although he followed it up with the police parody Hot Fuzz, he was already beginning to piece together what would become his version of Scott Pilgrim.

“For me, the process of making this film over the last six years has been quite organic because I’ve gotten to be in contact with the author as he was writing,”Wright explains. And that collaboration was a two-way street. “In some cases [Bryan] did a little polish on scenes.  There are a couple of lines in the film that are Bryan’s, but they’re not from the books. And then there are a couple of lines from our script that are [now] in the books, because we wrote the first draft back in 2006.”

That alternating current of influence results in an adaptation that at first glance appears deceptively similar to its source material. But while sharp dialogue and certain visual gags translate cleanly from graphic novel to live-action video, Wright deliberately plays up the differences in the mediums, and the strengths they entail. “[Bryan and I] both agreed early on that it was better to do something in the spirit of the books. The two should just serve each other,” he says.

One of the most potentially significant changes in bringing Scott Pilgrim to life was in casting and recreating the eccentric set of characters from the books—From the titular slacker to the outlandish evil exes, which include, among others, a vegan psychic, a conniving music producer, and a female (!) ninja. For Wright, this was one area in which authenticity was paramount. Fortunately, O’Malley’s art style, though simple, perfectly conveys the expressiveness of his young characters, whose hearts are often worn on their collective sleeve.

It gave Wright an incredible head start in developing his screenplay, and upon completion, he wrangled a cast in which each constituent role was assigned to a player of undeniable talent. Michael Cera (Arrested Development, Juno) plays Scott—And carries with him an immediate underdog persona that makes his foray into action stardom all the more satisfying. Mary Elizabeth Winstead (Live Free or Die Hard, Deathproof) plays his muse, Ramona Flowers, with a perfect flippancy. Even the league of evil exes is stacked with heavy-hitting performers like Brandon Routh (Superman Returns), Chris Evans (Fantastic Four), and Jason Schwartzman (Rushmore).

Says Schwartzman of being cast as the final boss, Gideon Gordon Graves: “It is really fun to play a villain. So many of my favorite characters are villains. Bryan Lee O’Malley was awesome; I asked him, ‘Who is Gideon? What do you make of him?’ and he said, ‘I’m still figuring it out, too. Who do you think he is?’”

Keeping each of the actors’ visions for their character in line with O’Malley’s remained a priority for Wright. “Bryan wrote this list of ten Scott Pilgrim facts for each character. Number one on Michael [Cera]’s list was, ‘Scott Pilgrim is the hero of the film inside his own head.’ That really says it all to me. When tweens and twenty-somethings describe events, they are usually blown all out of proportion.  Someone might gossip about the ‘huge fight’ that broke out the night before. Here we see the huge version of that fight.”

And cinematographer Bill Pope’s stunning action sequences are absolutely the film’s highlight. Filtered through a hyperactive videogame-inspired, pop-art lens, they bloom into a distinct crescendo. “I like the idea that the last fight… Essentially the most elaborate one, would look a little primitive.” Wright laughs. “I like the idea that as it gets further into the film, it starts to literally dissolve into pixels. It’s almost as if the whole movie is deteriorating into a videogame at that point, visually.”

No surprise; genre-bending and fast paced editing have always defined Wright as a filmmaker—And in that respect, Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World may be the ultimate Edgar Wright film. It’s a love letter not only to the television and computer games of the 1990’s—But to the music of both then and now. After all, the sole driving force in Scott Pilgrim’s precious little life is his involvement in the fledgling garage band “Sex Bob-Omb.” To lend authenticity to the fictional group, and others that inhabit that world, Wright recruited legendary producer Nigel Godrich, who brought inspired artists like Beck, Broken Social Scene, and Metric in tow.

But as loud and as wild as Scott Pilgrim gets, it transcends its aesthetic exuberance. Wright explains, “At its heart, it’s still a story about young love; it’s a right of passage. It’s more sort of making a comment on the characters that are growing up in that world, and this is the media that governs their lives, for better or for worse.”

Wright’s greatest triumph, however, is that he finds a way to seamlessly combine every disparate element, and create a film that borrows from everywhere and yet feels wholly original.  Along with O’Malley’s brilliant book series, Wright has taken a snapshot of a generation, and their unapologetic celebration of niche culture makes Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World like a modern day Woodstock—And even if you don’t expressly participate in that culture, there’s no denying its unbridled, youthful energy. Scott Pilgrim is a rare, kinetic, simultaneously primal and joyous summer movie.

By Le Anne Lindsay (Tinsel & Tine)

Not only did PFS give us the opportunity to preview Drew Barrymore’s lasest comedy, Going the Distance Monday night, it included a Q&A with Director, Nanette Burstein.

This romantic comedy also feature’s Barrymore’s real life love interest Justin Long and Charlie Day (It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia) for added comic relief. The movie deals with the pitfalls of long distance relationships. Garrett (Long) meets Erin (Barrymore) when he blocks the screen of her old school centipede arcade game – “Who does that?” What starts out as a casual hook up, turns into the real thing.  Problem, Erin is in NY for a summer internship at the Sentinel Newspaper and plans to go back to San Francisco to finish her degree. Garrett is just establishing himself as an A&R rep at a small record label.

Personally, I’ve never been in a truly long distance relationship, but I once dated a guy that lived in Delaware (less than 2hrs away) and he broke up with me citing -logistics. Dated another guy in Allentown, (again, less than 2 hrs away in the other direction) sent him a text once with a very steamy promise if he agreed to drive to me after work. His reply, “Not during the week, cause I’d  have to leave your place super early in the morning to get to work on time”.

So the movie’s theme is very real and relate-able. The chemistry between the two is good. Their initial “sleep over” involving Top Gun soundtrack is laugh out loud funny. The standard falling in love montage works. Things like trust issues, phone sex, and surprise visits are all covered with good humor and realism. Side issues like both characters working in industries that are in states of major change and severe cutbacks add to the dilemma. Christina Applegate and my personal favorite comedian, Jim Gaffigan are fun as Erin’s dry humping sister and brother-in-law. And Garrett’s two side kicks, mustachioed, Box (Jason Sudeikis) and bathroom open door policy Dan (Day) keep him busy during Erin’s absence.  Still, somehow, I feel the movie is a little flat.

As always, feedback is welcome.  If you attended the preview screening and disagree or agree, write a comment.

Nanette Burstein Q & A excerpts:

Q: What attracted you to the film?

NB: The story was such an honest premise and I’d been in a long distance relationship before, so I really related to the subject matter. And it was very funny.

Q: The dialogue seems really realistic, was there a lot of improv involved?

NB: Yes, we would shoot the script, but then we would improvise all the scenes as well, so we had both options in the edit room. Everyone brought their improv chops to the set, so we got some really funny moments.

Q: Your real life long distance relationship was how far?

NB: LA  – NY.  In fact, he was in the music industry. Bi-Coastal’s tough.

Q: How did you get the supporting cast, do you know them?

NB: No. We just asked them to do it. Jason actually auditioned. Although I already knew I wanted to cast him. This was Charlie’s first movie, so he was excited. I got all my first choices, I was really lucky.

Q: How about the leads?

NB: In the very first draft of the script the characters were younger, they were in their mid twenties, so I was thinking of different leads at the time given their age, then we decided to make them older. 1) because it made the stakes feel higher. As you get older, issues of love and career seem to grow in intensity and 2) Drew expressed interest in the script and I was excited about that. I had met her in person – you’re so used to her playing America’s sweetheart, but in real life she has a different personality. She has that same charm you always see on screen, but she’s also tough and vulnerable and speaks her mind and is quite funny, so I thought she’d be perfect to play the role. So that’s how it happened.

Q: The very first scene in the bar tells you this is not your usual romantic comedy.

NB: Yeah. I think the model, at least tone wise for me, was the movie Knocked Up. Realistic premise had a lot of humor, was raunchy but never inappropriately so, and it was really equal between the man and woman’s point of view, which we tried to do in this movie too.

Q: Do you feel Drew and Justin’s off-screen relationship added to the chemistry?

NB: I would say so. Not only chemistry, but intimacy, some of the more comedic love scenes like the phone sex or having sex on the dining room table, can be awkward with actors that don’t know each other; but because Drew & Justin know each other so well and are so comfortable with each other, it made those scenes easy.

Q: Since this was your first feature length movie, while you were preparing, what made you most nervous?

NB: Everything! Across the board! It was like, “what have I got myself into?” You have to seem incredibly confident eventhough you’re figuring it out as you go. I didn’t even know what most to be nervous about until I got in the situation and then I quickly figured it out. I guess the biggest challenge was with shooting the script and shooting the improv and trying to make it look good as well; you only have so much time in the day and we were not exactly scheduled properly given all I wanted to do, so you’re always under the gun time wise and that’s always a little stressful.

Q: How did you get involved with the script?

NB: I had made documentaries (American Teen 2008 , The Kid Stays in the Picture 2002 “Say It Loud: A Celebration of Black Music in America” 2001)
so I was being sent scripts from Hollywood to be considered as a feature length director. I really responded to this script and met with the producers; I don’t know what I said, but they decided to hire me. I then brought in new writers that are not credited because of WGA rules, but we rewrote the script quite a bit. It’s hard to say what someone else would have done; I just tried to take a very realistic approach to it and also find very talented funny, actors so we could do a lot of improv. It was important to make the sets feel honest. Most movies for example, people live in these fabulous apartments in New York and it’s totally unrealistic, that’s a pet peeve of mine.  I just tried to make it feel really honest and have a lot of heart and humor.

To listen to the complete Q&A click HERE.  The commentator is a host from co-sponsors Wired 96.5.

Maybe your script could be the next one that Nanette Burstein responds to – PFS is offering a screenwriting course with Marc Lapadula, professor of screenwriting at Yale University and former SW professor at University of Pennsylvania. He will lead a 3-week seminar in the craft of screenwriting at Philadelphia Soundstages. Click HERE for details.

What’s happening on Tinsel & Tine?  Our dining experience at Buddakan.