And to rub James Cameron’s (intensely wealthy and successful) nose in the fact that he was unable to duplicate the awards love he (rightly) got for Titanic.

See, when you follow the awards season as heavily as we do, and when you make movies a good chunk of your entire life, it’s easy to get jaded (I’m looking at you, Shep). When movies like Million Dollar Baby or Chicago or Shakespeare in Love win the top award, it’s easy to get discouraged and argue that the best movie simply did not win.

The Oscars have had a long history of being short-sighted. How Green Was My Valley beat out Citizen Kane for the Oscar in 1941, for God’s sake. I think we can all agree that that was a mistake.

So even though Katheryn Bigelow’s amazing film The Hurt Locker was the front-runner for the top prize, I was skeptical. Avatar was a huge hit and seemed to be gaining momentum coming out of the Golden Globes. And even though that is a terrible Oscar predictor, I was also concerned with the Academy’s new voting system and decision to include ten nominees in the Best Picture category. There was some speculation that the other “more serious” movies would split the vote and Avatar would reign supreme.

It didn’t happen, and it shouldn’t have happened. The one thing I still love about the Oscars is that it honestly doesn’t matter how much money your movie made or what its budget was. I mean, sure, your movie has to garner enough buzz to be noticed, and studios throw millions of dollars into Oscar marketing, but it’s still a slightly more “pure” system than the MTV Movie Awards…or even the Grammy’s for that matter.

Still, when a movie like Avatar comes along, I get a little shaken. Audiences want it to win. Many critics want it to win. It “revolutionized” 3D cinema, so the technophiles want it to win. And it’s got enough money to just about buy every vote possible from the Academy of Motion Pictures Arts and Sciences (not making accusations, just saying).

But there’s only one problem: it’s not the better movie.

The Oscars is a crapshoot. When the intensely overrated A Beautiful Mind took home the top prize, I lost a little faith. Sometimes they “get it,” sometimes they don’t. It’s a subjective experience, that whole movie-watching thing, and I’m not enough of a snob to believe that I know the objective truth of the quality of the films. Still, when you put a tense and emotionally affecting character-driven story like The Hurt Locker up against the crowd-pleasing Avatar, it’s difficult not to come away with the belief that The Hurt Locker is the greater cinematic achievement.

So congratulations, Hollywood. You got it right, and I raise my imaginary glass to you. I’m not going to give you too much credit, though. You did nominate Norbit (Just kidding…that fat suit was the BOMB!).

And what’s more, for the first time in over 60 years, the Best Picture ballot is open to a wide 10 nominees.  Of course, there are only a small handful of those movies that have a shot at the title at all, but it’s nice to see movies like Up, A Serious Man, and District 9 getting such lofty consideration.

So this season has been pretty intriguing indeed, and amid it all I’ve gotten myself in a fair amount of trouble voicing my opinions of films like Avatar and The Blind Side.  I’ve been wondering real hard what this was going to be like when it all culminated.  And all that wondering has gotten me to this moment.

Here are my humble predictions for the 2009 Oscars!

BEST FILM EDITING
No, I’m not going to hit every category, but as far as this technical categories go, this one is always of particular interest.  The Oscar for Film Editing often is a strong determinant of the Best Picture winner.  Of course, there are exceptions.  They do love to give this award to actiony spectacle films on occasion.  The Bourne Ultimatum and The Matrix both picked up this prize without being nominated for Best Picture.  But in a year where Avatar, The Hurt Locker, and District 9 are all nominees for both Best Picture and Best Film Editing, the Academy certainly has their choice of highly regarded action-heavy films to choose from, so they’ll likely go with whatever takes home the top prize—which gives fellow nominee, Inglourious Basterds, a sporting—if low—chance as well.  Precious, on the other hand, is just happy to be mentioned as a surprise nominee over Up in the Air.  Me, I’m still bummed that A Serious Man, expertly edited by the Coen brothers under their usual pseudonym Roderick Jaynes, didn’t get more citations.
My Pick: The Hurt Locker
The Winner: The Hurt Locker
What About…? A Serious Man

BEST CINEMATOGRAPHY
There’s always disappointment to be had in this category.  The Oscars oftentimes confuse overall visual spectacle with good cinematography.  Or God forbid there’s some kind of ethnic period film in the running (Memoirs of a Geisha, anyone?).  I’m mostly in full agreement with everything in this category.  Michael Haneke’s The White Ribbon was absolutely stunning, but I know what a whore I am for black-and-white, and I don’t want to give it too much credit for that sake alone.  And I’m frankly thrilled that the awesome look of the Harry Potter franchise has finally been acknowledged, so seeing that here makes my heart happy.  The Hurt Locker is a very well-shot film, as well, and is deserving of its nod, but I’m not so sure about the win.  In all honesty, my favorite work here is probably that of Inglourious Basterds.  But, oh that Avatar.  Unquestionably the visual achievement of this year, James Cameron’s massive spectacle film will probably walk away with this one.  I had a discussion with Quaid about how much of the look of this film was the work of the DP, and how much was visual effects and animation.  He knows more about this kind of thing than I do and certainly had some good arguments. But still—Avatar is just not the best shot movie in this grouping.  As the frontrunner for Best Picture, look for Hurt Locker to spoil, or possibly White Ribbon, which just won the ACS Award.
My Pick: Inglourious Basterds
The Winner: Avatar
What About…? The Road

BEST ANIMATED FEATURE
Is there really any competition to be had here?  It’s a pretty solid category, but do any of them stand a chance against Pixar’s Up, which has the distinct benefit of being only the second animated film ever to score a Best Picture nomination?  If any of them do, then it’s probably Wes Anderson’s Fantastic Mr. Fox which managed to swipe a few precursors from Up.  My pick however (if not for Up) would be Henry Selick’s outstanding 3-D stop-motion animated film Coraline.  However, Up is an utterly amazing film, which is just as deserving of its inevitable win in this category as it is of its Best Picture nomination.  Good job, Pixar!  Keep ‘em coming!
My Pick: Up
The Winner: Up
What About…? A Christmas Carol

BEST FOREIGN FILM
Because of Oscar’s strange means of qualifying films for this category, there are always a few surprises to be had.  This year, however, it’s pretty much between The White Ribbon, and the French film A Prophet.  I loved White Ribbon, as did many.  It’s won a lot of precursors (like the Palme d’Or at the Cannes Film Festival) and is the current favorite for this category.  But if I’m going to pick one upset, it’s going to be right here.  I’ve been hearing a lot of talk about A Prophet lately—the kind of talk to propel it into a last minute upset a la The Lives of Others beating Pan’s Labyrinth.  I’ve got a gut feeling on this one, don’t ask me why.
My Pick: The White Ribbon
The Winner: A Prophet
What About…? Thirst

BEST ORIGINAL SCREENPLAY
You know, with the exception of The Messenger which doesn’t have a shot anyway, I’d be happy to see any of these movies take home the gold.  Inglourious Basterds was my favorite film of the year, so I’m very much inclined to say that one will win—it’s also the favorite.  But, in all honesty, the one that I’d be most excited for to see win would probably have to be the script Coen brothers’ dry, funny, and philosophical A Serious Man.  What will win, though?  Like I said, on most fronts the favorite is Quentin Tarantino for Inglourious Basterds, but I’ve got a feeling that Sunday will be a big night for The Hurt Locker, and it’s going to grab this one…especially if—God forbid—it loses Best Picture to Avatar. This would be its consolation prize.  But let’s hope that doesn’t happen.
My Pick: A Serious Man
The Winner: The Hurt Locker
What About…? Moon

BEST ADAPTED SCREENPLAY
I’m still a bit bitter that Star Trek wasn’t included on this ballot, but either way, Up in the Air has got this one pretty much wrapped up.  Although by one look at the title of Precious: Based on the Novel ‘Push’ By Sapphire, you’d think it was the poster child for adapted screenplays.  In all honesty, Up in the Air is pretty deserving.  It was an excellent film, and since it probably isn’t going to win anything in any other categories, it would be nice to see it win here.  Oh sure, District 9 is terrific, and I absolutely loved In the Loop and was thrilled to see it get nominated, but the real star of this show is Up in the Air.  I wish it good luck, although it probably doesn’t need it.
My Pick: Up in the Air
The Winner: Up in the Air
What About…? Star Trek

BEST SUPPORTING ACTRESS
Mo’Nique has been the shoe-in for this before the awards season even began.  If there’s any competition to be had here, then it’s probably from Anna Kendrick for her outstanding performance in Up in the Air.  She managed to nab a precursor or two out from under Mo’Nique at the beginning of the season, but seeing as Up in the Air’s popularity has basically peaked and gone down, this win seems unlikely.  Maggie Gyllenhaal was a bit of a surprise to see in this category, so that might be a sign of some unknown good faith, but it’s still way, way, way in Mo’Nique’s favor.
My Pick: Anna Kendrick, Up in the Air
The Winner: Mo’Nique, Precious: Based on the Novel ‘Push’ By Sapphire
What About…? Diane Kruger, Inglourious Basterds

BEST SUPPORTING ACTOR
Christoph Waltz as Nazi Colonel Hans Landa in Inglourious Basterds is another shoe-in, and it’s really making me take notice of a strange Oscar trend of late.  Between Waltz’s role and Mo’Nique’s role, as well as recent winners Heath Ledger in The Dark Knight, Javier Bardem in No Country for Old Men, and Tilda Swinton in Michael Clayton, it seems like the supporting performance categories are really into awarding villains—which makes it no surprise that Stanley Tucci from The Lovely Bones is also on the ballot.  Also nominated: Matt Damon for Invictus, and I have no idea why.  I sincerely believe he was only nominated because he used an accent.  Not that it matters, anyway.  It goes to Waltz.
My Pick: Christoph Waltz, Inglourious Basterds
The Winner: Christoph Waltz, Inglourious Basterds
What About…? Peter Capaldi, In the Loop

BEST ACTRESS
I’m keeping all negative thoughts on The Blind Side to myself, so let me just state that Sandra Bullock is the current frontrunner for Best Actress for her performance in that film.  And with her SAG win, and the movie’s surprise Best Picture nomination, it shows some good faith that indicates that it’s probably going to be her.  But even among that, something about it just doesn’t seem right.  I’m inclined to say that it’s going to be Meryl Streep for Julie & Julia—which I would prefer—but this is a gut hunch that I’m getting a secondary gut-hunch for that’s telling me I’m probably wrong.  So I guess what I’m saying is go with Sandra.
My Pick: Meryl Streep, Julie & Julia
The Winner: Sandra Bullock, The Blind Side
What About…? Melanie Laurent, Inglourious Basterds

BEST ACTOR
Yeah, so there are more than a few locks for the acting categories this year.  Jeff Bridges, for his performance in Crazy Heart, is way more than likely going to be walking home with the gold after years and years of being overlooked.  I really, really liked Crazy Heart and I loved Bridges in it, and think he’s totally deserving, but I still would have liked to have seen him win for Starman all those years ago.  I guess we can’t have everything.  Other nominees in this category are wholly worthy as well, especially George Clooney from Up in the Air and Jeremy Renner from The Hurt Locker, but this one belongs to Bridges.
My Pick: Jeff Bridges, Crazy Heart
The Winner: Jeff Bridges, Crazy Heart
What About…? Michael Stuhlbarg, A Serious Man

BEST DIRECTOR
Here’s where I start to get really torn.  I loved Inglourious Basterds.  It was my favorite movie of the year.  Look back at my top ten—it’s firmly affixed in the number one position.  I loved it.  And what I loved most was probably Quentin Tarantino’s epically bombastic directorial style.  But if we’re going to talk about which one of these five nominated directors deserves this nomination the most, then it is without question Kathryn Bigelow.  This massively talented woman made what is not only a great movie, but arguably the most important film of the year.  The Hurt Locker is an assured, dignified, and fascinating piece of work, and without the guiding hand of Kathryn Bigelow it would not have been the same movie.  Also, I really want to see her stick it to her ex-hubby and his crappy movie.  And with her recent DGA win—a habitual indicator for this category—the Oscar is all hers.
My Pick: Kathryn Bigelow, The Hurt Locker
The Winner: Kathryn Bigelow, The Hurt Locker
What About…? Joel Coen and Ethan Coen, A Serious Man

BEST PICTURE
Alright.  Here it is.  The big one.  It’s a category of ten this year, and there are six that I would be genuinely excited to see win.  Personally, I loved District 9, but I wouldn’t give it the Best Picture Oscar.  However, if somehow it won, I’d have to admit—that would be pretty cool.  I’d also love to see A Serious Man win, but with only two nominations, if that’s its only award, that would be a little sad and strange.  Up would also be an amazing choice.  I loved, loved, loved Up, but since it has its own category, it’s odds here are a little low.  Up in the Air has a chance, although most say it peaked too soon.  The Hurt Locker, as I’ve mentioned time and again, is a great movie.  It’s the frontrunner to win, and for good reason—it most likely will.  I completely support that.  But for me, as I’ve also stated time and again, my favorite of this year was Quentin Tarantino’s Inglourious Basterds.  And since I’ve been somewhat conservative with the love I’ve been giving it in this article, denying it both Screenplay and Director, I’ve got to make it my pick right here.  I just enjoy the hell out of this movie, and if it won, that would be awesome.  But there’s also an anal retentive side to me that really loves it when something wins big, and if that’s going to be anything this year then it’s going to be The Hurt Locker.  And rest assured, it will be The Hurt Locker.  I realize that its stiffest competition is Avatar, but I just don’t—can’t—see that happening.  Really, with Inglourious Basterds’ SAG ensemble win, it has a decent shot, too.  Anything could happen!  It sure looks like it all belongs to The Hurt Locker—and let’s face it, it probably does—but when you really take a look at some of the strange new things that this year’s ceremony has to offer, it’s really a bit more up in the air than you might think at first glance (no, that wasn’t a subtle prediction).
My Pick: Inglourious Basterds
The Winner: The Hurt Locker
What About…? Star Trek

So there it is.  Cast your office pool ballots wisely, and good luck to you.  And remember to come back on Sunday. We’ll have a live video stream of us…watching the Oscars!  I promise that it will be almost as much fun as watching someone else playing a video game!

First, check out the NEW TRAILER for A Nightmare on Elm Street. Then I’ll do my talkin’ below.

When I first heard about this remake, I was scared. Then I saw some of the concept stuff coming out of the production, and I got excited. This is a great franchise that could really stand a good reboot. Sure, “re-imagining” Freddy is a bit sacrilegious to the ’80’s horror fan in me, but I’d rather see Jackie Earle Haley take a stab at it than anyone.

When it comes down to it, I just want another Freddy movie so bad I’ll take whatever they want to do with the franchise. And as a non-fan of the super-campy Freddy vs. Jason, I’m glad the producers aren’t continuing down that path.

When I saw the first trailer, though, I was disappointed. The tone was there and the visuals were great, but Freddy didn’t work for me. He seemed like a standard burn victim with a borderline offensive mentally-challenged-sounding voice.

So why am I so excited about this trailer. THEY FIXED THE DAMN VOICE!!! Freddy sounds scary and menacing, and there is even a tiny hint of that dry sarcasm we love about him…even though it’s buried under tons of dark menace.

I think I’m going to enjoy this version of Freddy. And, by extension, the movie.

Thank God this one still has weird dream-logic visuals. Thank God it doesn’t appear to be a clone of the other remakes (the Friday the 13th remake might as well have just been another entry in the reboot of the Texas Chainsaw Massacreseries).

I’m legitimately excited to see this one, opening night with a crowd of goofy screaming fans. I know what I’m going as for Halloween this year!

And for those of your curious, here’s the best looking still of Freddy I could pull from the above trailer.  Click to make bigger.

Of course, another thing that happened before that date was that the release of the film got pushed back a full four months—breezing straight past Oscar season—to the weekend of February 19, 2010. 

In all honesty, I can see how this might have been a smart move from a business standpoint.  As a genre picture looking to cash in on a very bankable horror movie audience, not only were its Oscar prospects a bit lower than normal Scorsese fare, but an October release date would have pitted it against not only Zombieland, The Stepfather, and Saw VI, but also the horror phenomenon of the year, Paranormal Activity.  Now, the change in date for Shutter Island might have occurred before Paranormal looked like a surefire hit, but we all know the studios have ways of predicting things well in advance.  So right there, that’s a horror audience divided and an Oscar audience potentially disinterested.  (I stress “potentially,” however.  But we’ll get back to that.)

Alternately, February must have looked like a really nice place to settle.  Early in the year always seems to be a pretty solid time to roll out a genre picture or two.  (Cloverfield anyone?)  When it’s cold out and there’s nothing else to do, horror audiences will show up in droves.  Sure, it’s up against last week’s The Wolfman, perhaps a more widely agreeable premise than that of Shutter Island, but at the end of the day, Benicio Del Toro isn’t as big a star as Leonardo DiCaprio, and—while I really liked Wolfman—director Joe Johnston probably shouldn’t even be mentioned in the same sentence as.  Martin Scorsese.

So, like I said, as a business move, pushing Shutter Island back to February was fairly understandable.  It was risky for Oscar audiences looking for classy Aviator Scorsese and risky for Halloween horror audiences with a wealth of alternative options.  And now that it’s out there, it’s performed quite well, easily coming in at the top of the box office last weekend with a respectable $40.2 million.  So yeah…I get it.

But that doesn’t mean I agree with it.

It is my humble opinion that Shutter Island could have done quite well for itself in the chaos of awards season, and for the simple fact that it’s just that good.  I loved Shutter Island, and I don’t want to speak too soon, but I think it may be my favorite Scorsese-DiCaprio venture yet.  Had it come out on its original date, I think it would have easily found a spot in my top five of last year. 

But by the standards with which we are forced to measure these things nowadays, it looks like Shutter Island’s Oscar prospects for the coming 2010 season are precisely nil.  Yes, what I mean to say is that online movie critic aggregators RottenTomatoes and MetaCritic both show opinions turning out a bit mixed—leaning positive, but mixed nonetheless—for this film.  Sad as the truth may be, this is the standard by which we judge the overall worth of most movies nowadays.  But that’s another discussion.

I believe that through the eyes of a lot of critics, this film had two things working against it that I honestly feel could have been alleviated had the movie been released on its original date. 

First, there’s the simple fact that the last-minute date change (not to mention one that excises a Martin Scorsese film from Oscar season) speaks volumes to the notion that the distributing studio, in this case Paramount Pictures, has little confidence in the quality of the film.  That creates a stigma that’s going to be hard for a lot of people to separate themselves from when watching the film, and people will be prone to judge it more harshly.  I think in some cases—certainly not all, but certainly some—this is what happened. 

There must be at least a handful of critics—major newspaper critics, online critics, bloggers, Netflix user reviews with lofty aspirations, or anyone—that gave this film a negative review, who would have given it a positive review—maybe not glowing, but at least respectable—if it had come out in October.  There must be.  But enough to make a difference in its overall reception?  Who knows?

I also believe that if it had come out in the thick of Oscar season, with people being a bit nicer to it and, good or bad, examining it as a contender (which, good or bad, they aren’t right now), that it would have certainly gotten a generous assortment of technical citations which it very much deserved.  On top of being one of the best-looking films (especially in the midst of its subject) that I’ve seen recently, let me just say that it is a rare occasion that I notice how amazing a film’s sound is, but in Shutter Island, the sound is endlessly eerie and effective.

The cinematography and art direction are utterly amazing, hitting a fine note of haunting surrealism—I don’t think I’ve ever seen a movie where the colors scared me, but Shutter Island, with its unsettling dream, fantasy, and flashback sequences, creates reds that scream bloody murder at you, grays that overcome and alienate you on the vast island landscape, and blacks that drown you despair.  It’s Martin Scorsese’s most visually arresting film since Bringing Out the Dead. 

I can only imagine that if Shutter Island had been released in October, it would have seen nominations for its cinematography, art direction, sound, and its sly editing, once again the pride of longtime Scorsese editor Thelma Schoonmaker.

Such technical recognitions might have created a sense of goodwill for the film which could have possibly pushed it into higher realms of awards consideration, even if the critical reception had been identical to what it is now.  (Avatar anyone?)

But I said I believed Shutter Island to have two things working against its critical success, and had it not had to overcome the stigma of a last-minute date-change, it still might not have overcome its second hurtle, which I, myself, almost let it trip and fall upon.

From this point out, I’m going to be concerning my points heavily with the plot of the movie, and I do plan on getting spoilery.  If you haven’t seen the movie and don’t want anything ruined for you, then you might want to stop reading (and go see the movie!)  Although, my point might end up being that it makes the movie better to know what’s going on from the beginning.  So approach at your own risk. 

To the inevitable chagrin of many, Shutter Island is another one of those movies.  Perhaps that’s all I have to say, and whether you’ve seen the whole movie or just a trailer for it, you know what I mean.  However, to elaborate that sentence just a tad, let me put it this way: Shutter Island joins the ranks of such mixed company as The Sixth Sense, Fight Club, Session 9, The Machinist, High Tension, Hide and Seek, The Number 23, and many others as another one of those movies. 

By now you must get my meaning, but in case you skipped any or all of those aforementioned movies, I’ll put it bluntly.  Shutter Island is one of those movies where the hero of the film spends the majority of the film fighting against an antagonistic force that he eventually realizes is actually him.

Working from a story that is very similar to William Peter Blatty’s The Ninth Configuration sprinkled with bits of Session 9, Scorsese’s film concerns Edward “Teddy” Daniels, a U.S. marshal assigned to the case of the disappearance of a patient from a mental institution on the titular Shutter Island.  We soon learn that he requested the case specifically so that he could gain admittance to the institution to seek retribution from Andrew Laeddis, the man responsible for his wife’s murder, who he believes to be held there. 

At the end of the film, Daniels discovers that he is Andrew Laeddis, he killed his wife, and Edward Daniels (an anagram of Andrew Laeddis) is an alternate identity he created for himself out of his insanity.  His “assignment” is simply an experimental large-scale role-playing therapy conceived by the chief psychiatrist, Dr. Cawley (Ben Kingsley), who appeared to be the villain for most of the movie. 

There was a point several years ago when I became really, really sick of this kind of ending, and—as such—I should’ve really hated Shutter Island, right?

Well, no.  For one thing, there’s far more to it than just the above synopsis, and every second of Shutter Island is meticulously crafted to the point where it could really end no other way than how it does.  This final revelation of the film isn’t a shocking twist—it’s the closure that’s been coming the whole time.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen a movie earn the classification of “psychological thriller” as much as this one does.  Although the onscreen plot of the film is literally happening at all times (in other words, not Teddy’s hallucination—though not shy of hallucinatory imagery, either), Shutter Island is a film of and for the mind.

But I’m not going to lie—at its first appearance, I was put off by the ending, too.  “This again?” I though.  But, Scorsese is so careful in how he crafts every second—the ending included—and he orchestrates the final brushstrokes so stirringly and chillingly, that all of my ill-conceived grievances were thrown away in seconds.  

After realizing I felt this way about the movie, I was initially tempted to acknowledge my own hypocrisy.  I bitchily asked myself, “Oh, so you’re sick of that ending, but it’s okay when Scorsese does it?”

But to be perfectly honest, the answer to that question is YES!  It is okay when Scorsese does it—and not because he’s Scorsese, King of Cinema, and no one should question him, but because of the reason that he’s Scorsese, King of Cinema.  Martin Scorsese has earned his reputation because he legitimately is an outstanding filmmaker.  And Shutter Island is the work of an outstanding filmmaker. 

For me, the talent and the story of Shutter Island absolutely had what it takes to overcome my supposed second obstacle which stands in its way of widespread critical acceptance, but some might find themselves too irritated by it to let themselves see the bigger picture.  I can somewhat sympathize with that sentiment, but humbly ask all detractors, how would you have ended it?  What should have been awaiting Teddy in the top room of the lighthouse?  When thinking back on the entire film before that moment, can you honestly imagine that anything else would have been right?

If you didn’t like the movie even up until that moment, that’s one thing—maybe it’s just not your cup of tea.  But if you were right there with it up until the “big reveal,” then I feel like you might have missed the point.  I’m not judging—like I said, I felt the same way at first—but I am asking you to reconsider.

Yes, this ending has been done before in various capacities—most of the time just to have a shocking final twist—but in Shutter Island it is the integral part of the entire film, from a standpoint of both plot and theme.  I cannot fault this film—a movie that I feel didn’t make a single misstep—for the faults of movies past.  One of my favorite types of movies is the type that begs to be seen again and again.  Shutter Island is one of those movies—I can’t wait to see it again. 

I look forward to watching many things in a new light, now having the benefit of knowing exactly what’s going on.  There are so many things that I want to pay particular attention to, like the performances of Ben Kingsley and Mark Ruffalo, and also to a very chilling conversation between DiCaprio and the warden, played by Ted “Was She a Great Big Fat Person?” Levine.  There’s so much to gain from this movie from multiple viewings.

As such, I feel like Shutter Island is a movie that might benefit economically (and might have benefited just as easily in October) from repeat business.  You know—the kind of business that helped out Avatar, Titanic, and The Dark Knight so much.  Now, don’t misconstrue that I’m saying that Shutter Island could ever in a million years pull in the business that helped those movies break records, but I am saying that there’s a wealth of bank to be made off of fanboys like myself.

But still, even that notion didn’t help it get released it last year.  Shutter Island got bumped.  Paramount panicked, and a Martin Scorsese picture—his first narrative film after a long-overdue Oscar-win—got bumped and placed in the early-year period best known as the cinematic dumping ground.  Although as far as I’m concerned, February is starting to be a pretty dependable month in which to catch a great movie.  February 2008 gave us In Bruges, February 2009 brought Coraline, and this year we’ve been given Shutter Island.  It works for me, frankly.

And it worked out fine for the studio, as well.  Aside from the fact that Shutter Island is making some solid money right now, they also fared well during Oscar season, with their Jason Reitman picture Up in the Air showing up on the Best Picture ballot, as well as being nominated for its script, direction, and a wealth of acting awards. 

So all that really happened was that Shutter Island missed out on some potential accolades.  Oh well.  I’m sure Scorsese will live—he did for years and years before, after all.  Nevertheless, he’s fashioned a fascinating, terrifying, and thrilling addition to his prolific career that I know I’ll be watching over and over for years to come.

So did you know we’re officially a year old?  That’s right, it was early February 2009 that MovieChopShop spewed its first unpublished article to the internet.  Since then we’d like to think we’ve gotten a little better at writing, thinking, and proofreading, but perusing the articles we put up in our freshmen quarter (and Jesus Christ were there a lot of them), I’m still really proud of the work we’ve done.

Since then, the site has grown and changed.  We’ve moved away from standard news reporting.  The reason?  We honestly didn’t enjoy it and would rather put our energies toward coming up with something unique than recycling trade articles you can find just about everywhere on the internet.  Yeah, our hit count went down slightly, but we’re back on top.  And our souls are still in tact.

Also, you’ve probably noticed that Hans is MIA, in general.  This isn’t because of some falling out or physical altercation…he got a big-boy job as an editor and had to move across the state and spends his entire life bringing more important news to less important people.

Throughout all these changes, though, our goal has remained consistent: put forward intelligent and well thought out articles that you really can’t find anywhere else on the web.

And we’ve written a lot of stuff.  Hundreds of thousands of words of stuff.  So much stuff that you could make a whole book out of it…

So that’s what we’re doing.

By mid-March (hopefully), MCS will publish our first book.  It is a fairly straightforward compilation of our favorite articles from this year, touching on almost every major film release since last February.  We just thought it would be neat for our fans (and ourselves) to have a nice keepsake that can remind them of the year in movies and some of the cooler stuff we managed to throw together.

The book will be available via this site and a few others come March.

While we published articles throughout February of last year, the official MovieChopShop kickoff was really last year’s Oscar telecast.  We live-blogged the program, and this year we hope to one-up ourselves….we’re going to stream us watching and commenting on the Oscars, live.

Why would you want to watch this?  I have no idea.  Probably just to see Shep’s rage when Avatar wins best picture.  Hehe…

MovieChopShop has always been and will always be about sharing passion for movies, and this book and this live event seem like great ways for us to celebrate everything we love about movies and the people we share them with.

We hope to see you for the Oscars.

Actually, to call it an update is to be a bit misleading—this is no modernized retelling. Wisely, the new version of the classic 1941 Universal werewolf movie has maintained a 19^th century Victorian setting and many classic details.  Even Benicio Del Toro’s makeup job, while certainly much scarier and more intimidating, recalls the look of Lon Chaney in the original film quite vividly.

And such a style is what is remarkably enjoyable about this movie.  It has a splattery humor, subtle campiness (yes, I said “subtle campiness”), and a gaudy gothic aesthetic that defines everything that this type of movie should be about.  There was really only one type of movie that I was hoping that The Wolfman would be, and it was exactly that.

And that’s really saying something, too.  Normally, I don’t really go for werewolf movies.  I kinda like Joe Dante’s The Howling, and I love John Landis’s An American Werewolf in London, which contains arguably the best werewolf transformation sequence ever (orchestrated by makeup master Rick Baker, who did the makeup for this film, as well).  But movies like London’s cringe-worthy sequel, An American Werewolf in Paris and Wes Craven’s Cursed have left a really bad taste in my mouth, and turned me off of the genre in a big way.

I should state that I haven’t seen Ginger Snaps or Dog Soldiers, but I understand a lot of people like those movies a lot.  (This article is not a review of Ginger Snaps or Dog Soldiers.  As I have not seen these movies, I have no opinions on them.)

But despite my slight aversion to werewolf tales, something about the trailers for The Wolfman was striking my fancy, and I really wanted to see it.  It was probably that dreary gothic look—it certainly wasn’t the dramatic heavy metal music, which is thankfully nowhere to be found in the actual movie; in its place is a spot-on Danny Elfman score that’s still stuck in my head.

The Wolfman tells a very simple and entertaining story.  After news of his brother’s vicious murder, stage actor Lawrence Talbot (Del Toro) comes back home to the family mansion, where his father (Anthony Hopkins) is living with his late brother’s fiancée, Gwen (Emily Blunt).  Lawrence takes it upon himself to investigate the murder, and related rumors around the town of the mysterious monster that might have committed the crime.

You can probably imagine the events that transpire thereafter.  Needless to say, there’s a werewolf running amok, and he gets his fangs on poor ol’ Benicio.

And as modern werewolf movies go, it’s worth saying that The Wolfman does a terrific job of blending its CG and makeup technologies.  The transformations are CG, of course (we’ll never see another like American Werewolf ever again), but they are eerily designed and played out in fun and inventive ways.  Actually, the strangest use of CG in this film is in regards to all of the non-wolf animals (like bears and reindeer) that are seen in a few fleeting shots.

Performances all around are quite satisfying.  Benicio Del Toro is aloof and mysterious, and Anthony Hopkins is clearly having a great time, hitting all of the right notes for his role.  Hugo Weaving, as the police inspector heading up the investigation of all of the local killings, chews up a lot of the scenery in the very best of ways.

One of the most striking things about this movie, however, is its R-rating.  When I heard that they were remaking the original Wolf Man, it didn’t even occur to me that it might be something a bit…edgier.  And then when I heard that it was being directed by Joe Johnston, the director of such general-audience crowd-pleasers as The Rocketeer, Jumanji, October Sky, and Jurassic Park III, any slight possibility of the occurrence of that notion seemed to be thrown right out the window.

And now the film is upon us, and it’s a surprisingly gory horror flick, wall-to-wall with over-the-top werewolf violence, big bloody biting, lobbed-off limbs and heads, and trails of intestines.  For weak stomachs, you might want to just check out the original.  Many others ought to have a pretty good time, however.

Like I said earlier, this movie is almost exactly what you would want it to be; at the very least, it was what I wanted it to be—a fast-paced, mysterious, scary, and wildly fun piece of gothic pulp horror.  I just can’t imagine that anyone buying a ticket for a horror movie called The Wolfman is going to be leaving disappointed.  (I think I said something similar about Drag Me to Hell.  Isn’t it nice how some movies just spell it out for you?)  Personally, I had a blast with this movie from start to finish.

Amid all of the Oscar season hullabaloo and all of the trouble I’ve gotten myself into talking about Avatar and The Blind Side, it’s nice to just sit down and watch a fun movie with no real Oscar prospects (except maybe makeup?…Again, if Norbit can do it, then why not?).  All in all, The Wolfman executes its intended purpose with flying colors of shadowy black, blood red, and furry brown.

I was never the world’s biggest Star Trek fan.  Hell, up until a few weeks before the release of J.J Abrams new reboot, I hadn’t even seen most of the original films.

Then I did a marathon of the movies, both original and next generation.  I enjoyed the hell out of them all and started picking favorites.  At this point, I was still a casual fan trying to get caught up before the release of the new “Star-Wars-esque” reimagining.

Then I went and saw Abrams film, and, well, I had more fun than I had had in a theater in a long time.  It wasn’t just that the story was put together in a really fun, flippant and creative way.  It wasn’t just that the filmmakers had somehow tracked down a group of young actors who perfectly fit their iconic roles without falling into bad impressions.

What really wowed me about the movie was the fact that the screenwriters had managed to do something that hadn’t been done before; they rebooted a franchise completely without negating any canon that had come before.  It was a prequel, a sequel, and a reboot all in one, and yet it never let itself get dragged down by needless exposition or overly self-satisfied in-jokes.

I enjoyed the movie and saw it twice in theaters.  No big deal. But then the movie came out on video.  I bought the Blu-Ray…and now I’m in trouble.

Each viewing revealed something fun and new, and every time I’d jump on the internet to research some Trek reference I found a new layer of meaning in the film.  Not just that, but the jokes and the action set pieces got funnier and more enjoyable the more I watched.  It became the kind of movie you could pick up at any point and watch for any period of time and still enjoy the shit out if.

This quality is something that most critics seem to ignore.   They cycle through films so quickly that they barely give themselves enough time to digest the basics of the movie before vomiting their opinion onto the printed page or, God help us all, the internet.  I’m just as guilty as the next person, I know…

Most of the time this kind of criticism is adequate.  You discover a movie’s story, characters and plot, and you’re done.  The movie can be filed away in your memory with some arbitrary scoring system attached.

Every once in a while, though, there is a movie that is so fun or so interesting or so damn good that no matter how many times you watch it…no matter how familiar you are with each frame…the film never gets old.  We film geeks call it “rewatch value,” and in this day and age of home video and digital downloads, it’s the holy grail.

Movies focus on garnering awards or blowing away opening day records.  This is how filmmakers get paid.  But rewatch value?  That’s how they get remembered.  It’s a quality that is intrinsically linked to the entertainment value and the overall quality of a film, but it stands apart.  Movies like Raiders of the Lost Ark, Back to the Future Part II (that’s right…part 2), and The Shawshank Redemption…these are what I call “go-to” movies.  They’re films with such infinite rewatch value that you can always pop them into the DVD player (for either twenty minutes or two hours) and be entertained.  Whatever mood you’re in, they’ll suck you into their all-to-familiar story and PUT you in the right mood to watch the film.

Whenever I look back on the year or the decade or the history of cinema to compile some sort of arbitrary top-ten list, rewatch value is the first thing I think of.  Of course, I’m not arguing that J.J.’s film is one of the best ever made…but it is one of the most fun.  And it’s one of the movies I’ll probably keep going back to so I can have that child-like movie experience.

I might drive my friends and family crazy (are you watching that AGAIN?!?), but so be it.  It’s fairly rare that one of these films comes along, and when it does you have to jump on it, add it to your library, and watch the shit out of the thing until you finally lose interest temporarily.

Then it will sit silently on the shelf waiting patiently to be rediscovered.  And a day will come along when you have that second epiphany.  ”Oh, I haven’t watched this in a while.”  If it holds up a few years later, then it’s most likely a classic.

Will Star Trek make the cut?  I have no idea, but it’s definitely been worth the $25 I paid for the Blu-Ray.

Now, I can’t really speak too high and mighty about this one, as I haven’t yet seen it.  The trailers and talk surrounding it communicated quite clearly that it was all sorts of not-my-thing.  It instantly seemed to me like it took the wrong—and borderline demeaning—route in telling its story by putting the rich white lady in the foreground, and the black kid—more the center of the story—in the background.  I could be wrong, but I have my doubts.

I’ve been supposed to see it with my dad (and isn’t it such a “dad movie?”) for awhile now, but I’ve been dodging it left and right.  Had I known it was actually going to be an Oscar contender, I probably would have gotten it out of the way sooner.

To me, it looks like a movie built specifically for people like my dad—people that don’t really care about movies, but just want a nice, pleasant story to uplift them while they pass a couple hours.  And I’m not saying that there’s anything wrong with that—among all of the things that film is capable of, the powerful emotions that they can produce, to uplift and inspire should without question be one of them.  Although I might contend that some people are just a bit too easily inspired.

The Blind Side is the kind of movie that people who don’t care about movies walk out of saying “that was a great movie.” And somehow, I take it personally, as if they’re treading on my territory with their uninformed opinions on what makes a movie great.

Because it’s my passion, I make it my business to defend my stance on what I deem a great movie or a terrible movie by writing articles like this that few probably even read (I mean, honestly, did anyone actually read all 2500 words of my bitter Avatar review?).  I like to analyze technique, style, story, character, and all that other crap that most people normally don’t care much about.

However, when I ask most people what it is that’s great about a movie like The Blind Side—or any number of “inspirational” stories, mostly sports-related—I always get the same response: “It’s a true story,” they say.  Every time; it never fails.

“It’s a true story” is the brain-eating amoeba that’s sucking away at my life force.  To this claim, I always say “Just because it’s a true story doesn’t mean that it was well told or even worth telling.”  Snobby, yes, but I can’t help it; it really bugs me.

First off, at this point, it should go without saying that any family-aimed movie about sports is going to be based on a true story—throw a rock in this country and you’ll hit a true-life inspirational sports story.  It’s just a fact.

Hell, even the ones aren’t so inspirational, like Friday Night Lights, are even based on true stories.

And sometimes it can work in reverse!  Where it gets really scary is when a movie like The Mighty Ducks—pure Disney fiction—is released and then a year later, life imitates art and there actually is an NHL team called The Mighty Ducks!

Some aren’t, though, and that’s usually a good sign by my standards.  For my money, the best sports movie of last year—probably longer—was Drew Barrymore’s Whip It.  That was a movie that got a lot done with its characters in a fun and original way, and overcame the threat of predictability by staying fresh, small-scale, and touchingly personal.  You don’t get that from any of these “true story” movies.

But aside from the fact that nearly all sports movies have a basis in non-fiction, it should also go without saying that any movie that sells itself on the tagline of “Based on a True Story,” is taking many, many liberties with its source material.  In fact, I’d say that once horror movies like The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and The Haunting in Connecticut started sporting that slogan on their advertising materials, the whole thing officially became a gimmick.

Watch out, though, because there are two ways that they try to get you.  One is the aforementioned “Based on a True Story,” and then there’s always “Inspired by a True Story.”

To give you an idea of which films merit which taglines, the producers of Texas Chainsaw knew there wasn’t any way that a claim like “Based” could hold any water, so they chose the least controversial means possible by saying “Inspired”—which could really mean anything.  And really, since Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Silence of the Lambs, and Psycho, were all inspired by the same serial killer, Ed Gein, it’s a wonder it wasn’t used sooner.  There was actually a low-budget little-see biopic of the man, appropriately titled Ed Gein, which sold itself as being based on the killer that inspired those films.

At the end of the day, however, the average American moviegoer isn’t going to be too terribly discerning between “based” vs. “inspired” when “true story” is in the equation.  Hell, it’s such a killer sell that it was even part of the title of the 2005 Kurt Russell-Dakota Fanning horse movie Dreamer: Inspired by a True Story, which is probably the most annoying title this side of Precious: Based on the Novel ‘Push’ By Sapphire.

Now, I can completely sympathize when it comes to why the appeal of being told a true story is so strong.  It always adds an extra level of excitement, especially for a story that is practically unbelievable.  This past fall saw a couple of my recent favorite “true story” opening title cards, including Steven Soderbergh’s The Informant!, which said what it needed to say, and ended on “So there.”  Also there was Grant Heslov’s The Men Who Stare at Goats, which stated “More of this is true than you would believe.”  It sort of gets to the heart and soul of why movies that tell true stories are so fascinating in the first place.

But my problem with nonfiction films is that nine times out of ten they are so busy concerning themselves with all of the literal facts of the story that any potential structure of theme, substance, and an all-encompassing universal truth is completely lost.

Take almost any biographical film released in the last ten years, for instance.  My go-to is always Ray, Taylor Hackford’s biopic about Ray Charles, which was nominated for several major Oscars, and won for Jamie Foxx’s performance.  My opinion on Ray was that it was a complete mess of a movie, and didn’t really make me learn anything terribly interesting or insightful about the man, his life, his music, or his anything.  It was in such a rush to cover as much of his life as it possibly could, that it had absolutely no focus and was just a pain and a bore to sit through.  It was a “true story,” yes, but it was all story and no truth.

Conversely, there have been several movies that have successfully mined some kind of larger truth—be it about art, communities, one person, or even humanity as a whole—through stories that are not only fiction, but deliberate distortions of literal truth.

First, there’s Todd Haynes’s I’m Not There, a very outside-the-box biopic of Bob Dylan, in which the various forms of Dylan’s public persona are played in vaguely connected stories by six different actors, including a woman (Cate Blanchett) and an eleven-year-old black kid (Marcus Carl Franklin).  None of the characters are named Bob Dylan, and he isn’t directly referenced once throughout the film.  I’m Not There is a film that found a greater truth inside a pack of lies, and was all the more fascinating for it.

Similarly, Guy Maddin’s My Winnipeg was a documentary about his hometown, the Canadian city of Winnipeg, as told through truths, lies, tall tales, and local legends, recounting them all as literal fact.  In doing so, he created a sentiment that gets to the heart of the town, while playing just as poignantly with regards to anyone’s hometown.

Fargo is another great example, perhaps the greatest of all.  The film begins with a title card which reads that the events that follow are all true, and only the names have been changed.  Of course, this isn’t the case at all.  Fargo is almost entirely fictional, loosely inspired by a few different true-life stories.  To quote Ethan Coen, “We wanted to do a true story, but we didn’t know any, so we made one up.”

And with that film, the Coens proved that the claim of a true story is little more than a gimmick—an effective one, however, especially in the case of Fargo, which I remember marveling at when I saw it for the first time, thinking that it was all true.

And yet, if Fargo really were a true story, do you honestly think those characters would have been shaped as finely as they are?  Do you think we would see the subplot involving Marge and her old friend, Mike Yanagita?  Would we have really found the sadness and humanity of such a brutal and disturbing story if the filmmakers had merely been trying to make a true crime movie?

I guess it depends on the filmmaker, and in the case of the Coens, in all honesty, we probably would have seen those details come through in some regard, and been treated to a fascinating film nonetheless.  Why, just look at David Fincher’s excellent Zodiac, probably the best and most haunting true crime movie in recent years.  It can be done, but it takes care, precision, and thought (and in some cases, a 160-minute runtime).  In the hands of lesser filmmakers, would the “true story” of Fargo have gotten the treatment that the story deserved?

Not likely.  A literal “true story” would have easily been all bleakness, with little depth or complexity, or attention to character.  The Coens—cynical though they may usually be—know that that’s not truth, and is of little value.  They set out to invent a true story, and in my opinion, that’s absolutely what they did.

For now, though, I’m just going to have to face the fact that a hell of a lot of people really love The Blind Side… because it’s a true story.  And who knows?—maybe I will, too.  I really, really, doubt it, but I’ve been surprised before.  And that’s my favorite part of Oscar season, anyway—seeing a bunch of movies I might have otherwise never seen, that turn out to be pretty damn good.  Whether they’re based on a true story or not.

In the world of movies, too, we’ve had a changing vocabulary. We talk about CGI and Real-D as well as mo-cap, DI and HD. Most of these vocabulary changes are technology based, but there’s another linguistic shift occurring, and this one stems from recent (meaning the last 20-30 years) changes in delivery systems. Movies are now classified not by quality but by the format in which they should be seen. We all know what an “opening day” film is, and how it differs from a “wait for video” movie. In between there’s the “matinee” film, and the dreaded “wait for cable” flick. More than that, we have started to define the quality of some films based on the format in which they should, in our opinion, be exhibited. “That was like a $150 million direct-to-video flick,” says the misanthropic and overweight teenager as he walks out of the midnight showing of Wolverine. Ouch, Hugh Jackman. That’s gotta hurt. Sick burn.

Of course, none of this really comes as a shock.  Language is built to grow and change over the years.  Still, in the last decade it seems to be developing at a surprising rate, not just in cinematic circles but in every aspect of daily life.  Ask any parent of a teenager and they’ll attest to the fact that kids speak a different language, and that language changes quickly.  It’s a prestige thing…the newer and less understood a set of slang terms is, the cooler and more valuable it is.  With the internet, though, knowledge spreads so fast that new words are quickly defined and disbursed to the masses.  They lose street cred, and new words and terms must be invented.  The cycle continues.

Movie geeks, too, contribute to the status-based language change, but in a fairly unique way.  Popular (or unpopular) movies become adjectives and genres unto themselves.  Saying that a franchise has “nuked the ‘fridge” holds intense meaning for an intensely small group of people, and defining McG as the poor man’s James Cameron might incite discourse, but any true movie geek will know what you mean.

For us, it’s all about status, too. But instead of focusing on being cool or trendy, our status is based on knowledge.  If someone asks me the greatest movie of all time and I respond “Citizen Kane” without missing a beat, any true movie fan will get the joke.  I get approving head nods every time I remark that the latest installment in the Terminator franchise “pulled a Spider-man 3.”  The language works to make us all feel good about having some deep knowledge base that isn’t shared with the rest of the world.  And the more obscure the reference, the better.  I got a nice chuckle from my friends when I walked out of Avatar remarking, “Well, it’s no Delgo.”

Seriously….who would get that except me and about 150 other people in the world?

But that’s what it’s all about.  The fewer people who get the joke, the louder the people who get it will laugh, and the more special we’ll all feel.  It doesn’t matter how dorky or obscure or dumb the reference is…as long as it binds you in knowledge to the geeks surrounding you, that’s all we care about.  And if you don’t know the difference between a trekkie and a trekker, then you aren’t invited to the club.  Epic fail.