
25.4.09
Hanne Hukkelberg - Blood From A Stone (2009)

Fan Fever Is Rising for Debut of ‘Avatar’ (The New York Times)
LOS ANGELES — In an old airplane hangar near the beach here, James Cameron has been working feverishly to complete a movie that may:
(a) Change filmmaking forever
(b) Alter your brain
(c) Cure cancer
For certain expectant movie fans, the answer might as well be all of the above.
Eight months before its scheduled release on Dec. 18, Mr. Cameron’s “Avatar,” a science-fiction thriller filmed with his own specially devised 3-D technology, is stirring up a kind of anticipation that until now had been reserved for, say, the Rapture.
That might foretell a hit on the order of Mr. Cameron’s “Titanic,” with $1.8 billion in worldwide ticket sales.
Or it might just be a giant headache for 20th Century Fox, which is backing “Avatar” and will have to spend much of the year managing expectations for a film whose technological wizardry is presumed by more than a few to promise an experiential leap for audiences comparable to that of “The Jazz Singer,” the arrival of Technicolor or an Obama campaign rally.
To date, neither a trailer nor even a still photo from the film, which tells the story of a disabled soldier who uses technology to inhabit an alien body on a distant planet, has been made public by Mr. Cameron or Fox.
But a number of enthusiasts who have been swapping notes on the message boards at IMDB.com claim to have already seen the movie — in their dreams. “The special effects were mostly drawings and cartoons, but they looked 3-D still,” wrote one “planetshane,” whose particular dream involved a pirated copy of an early version.
“It was the best movie I had ever seen,” the post continued.
Only a few weeks ago, Joshua Quittner, a technology writer for Time magazine, fed the frenzy when he reported feeling a strange yearning to return to the movie’s mythical planet, Pandora, the morning after he was shown just 15 minutes of the film. Mr. Cameron, Mr. Quittner wrote, theorized that the movie’s 3-D action had set off actual “memory creation.”
Questioned by telephone recently at his home in Mill Valley, Calif., Mr. Quittner said he was still reeling from the experience.
“It was like doing some kind of drug,” he said, describing a scene in which the movie’s hero, played by Sam Worthington, ran around “with this kind of hot alien chick,” was attacked by jaguarlike creatures and was sprinkled with sprites that floated down, like snowflakes.
“You feel like the little feathery things are landing on your arm,” said Mr. Quittner, who remained eager for another dose.
Executives and producers of the film declined to be interviewed for this article. In a statement Fox said: “Jim Cameron is breaking new ground with this film. Like all movie fans, the studio is excited by the prospect of such an original piece of entertainment.”
In a brief interview reported by The Associated Press in December, Mr. Cameron said he was worried that “Avatar” could not live up to the expectations that were building around it. “Whatever they think it’s going to be, it’s probably not,” he said at the time about those who were speculating about the movie on the Internet and elsewhere.
Yet Mr. Cameron has done his share to feed the hype with his repeated assurances that a coming wave of 3-D cinema (yes, it still requires glasses) would have the power to penetrate the brain in a way that movies never have.
Some fans believe that Mr. Cameron and his colleagues have finally crossed the “uncanny valley.” That is a supposed point at which a viewer’s responsiveness to a simulated human takes a sudden drop into revulsion as the image comes close to reality but strikes the watcher as being zombielike, or not quite right.
Dr. Mario Mendez, a behavioral neurologist at the University of California, Los Angeles, School of Medicine, said it is entirely possible that Mr. Cameron’s work could tap brain systems that are undisturbed by conventional 2-D movies. One, he said, is a kind of inner global-positioning system that orients a person to the surrounding world.
“Three-D demonstrably creates a space that triggers this GPS; it’s really very stimulating,” Dr. Mendez said. He added that he had used virtual-reality therapy in working with soldiers at the Veterans Administration hospital in Los Angeles — and found himself jarred by his experience with a “virtual Iraq” simulation.
“It was with me for days and days,” Dr. Mendez said.
At ShoWest, a convention of movie exhibitors, a few weeks ago, Mr. Cameron in a short promotional video compared watching “Avatar” to “dreaming with your eyes wide open.” (It was a neat complement to those who have been viewing the movie in their sleep.)
But, sooner rather than later, an increasingly restless group of the fans would like to sample the real thing. And that presents a conundrum for Fox, which will be hard pressed to release a conventional, 2-D trailer online — one of the most powerful ways to promote a movie these days — without undercutting the promise of a transcendental 3-D experience.
“I can’t believe they would spend 12 years developing the technology and telling us in words how great this is, then show us in 2-D,” said T. F. Powell, who runs AvatarMovieZone.com, an unofficial fan site devoted to the film. Mr. Powell recently spoke by telephone from Kansas.
Some fans are already teasing their peers about expecting too much.
“You would think this movie cures cancer,” taunted a skeptical Danny Danger in his “movie preview extravaganza” on a MySpace blog in January.
Typically, studios have given a peek at some of their biggest science-fiction and fantasy movies during the giant Comic-Con convention, an annual summer gathering of the fans in San Diego. But that also poses problems for “Avatar,” in that Comic-Con’s convention hall setting has not been equipped to showcase films in 3-D.
“I can’t imagine we will not have something, but nothing has been confirmed,” said David Glanzer, the convention’s director of marketing and public relations, speaking of the prospects for an “Avatar” moment at Comic-Con.
As for the movie’s release in December, Mr. Glanzer said, “Maybe they should have nurses in the lobby.”
It was a joking reference to a ploy once used by the producer William Castle. He posted fake nurses in the lobby of theaters that showed his own neuron-challenging horror film “Macabre,” while insuring every member of the audience for $1,000 against “death by fright.”24.4.09
God Help The Girl - God Help The Girl (2009)

Belle & Sebastian’s Stuart Murdoch presents his new musical project ‘God Help The Girl’, self titled debut (LP/CD/digital available June 23 on Matador Records in North America, the previous day in Europe on Rough Trade), preceded by a single ‘Come Monday Night’ (May 11, via Rough Trade)
Features an array of singers, including Stuart’s discovery Catherine Ireton, Asya of Smoosh, Neil Hannon of the Divine Comedy, the other members of Belle and Sebastian and a 45 piece orchestra conducted by ‘Withnail & I’ composer Rick Wentworth.
‘God Help The Girl’ is a story set to music, which Stuart Murdoch has been working on intermittently for the last five years, its origin in some songs that were written while Belle and Sebastian were touring ‘Dear Catastrophe Waitress’ in 2004. Stuart explains:
“I was out for a run and I got this tune in my head and it occurred to me that it wasn’t a Belle & Sebastian song. I could hear female voices and strings, I could hear the whole thing, but I just couldn’t envisage myself singing it with the group.”
As more songs emerged, a shape and theme began to develop, before the music was actually recorded, or the vocalists found to take on the parts.
“All the time I was touring with Belle and Sebastian, I was putting aside songs for certain characters,” he says, “and at one point I realised, that it would make sense to string them together to form the backbone of a musical narrative.”
The hunt was then on to find some great new voices to put to use during the recordings. A competition where singers could add their vocals to the demo recordings of ‘Funny Little Frog’ and ‘The Psychiatrist Is In’ was posted on the iMeem social networking site and attracted around 400 entries. From these, Brittany Stallings (Olympia, Washington) and Dina Bankole (Jackson, Michigan) came to Glasgow in February 2008 to rehearse and record some parts, Brittany making the lead vocal part on ‘Funny Little Frog’ her own.
Among those who auditioned early in the process was Catherine Ireton (above), who had moved from Limerick to Glasgow, a friend of a friend, who had previously appeared on the sleeve of Belle and Sebastian’s last single, ‘The White Collar Boy.’ She took on the lead vocals for the majority of the songs on the record.
The recording continued during 2008, with a total of nine different singers (including Neil Hannon from the Divine Comedy and Asya from American teen trio, Smoosh) joining the members of Belle and Sebastian over the course of a few months. During this, Mick Cooke’s orchestral arrangements were recorded in London with the orchestra before the finishing touches were applied in Glasgow.
The result is a breathtaking record from one of pop’s most singular voices, combining the strengths and feel of the early Belle and Sebastian records in a broader musical palette, which draws equally on musicals, sixties’ girl groups, eighties’ indie and, most of all, classic pop records. And, in Catherine, Stuart has found a rare talent - her clear, lilting vocals bringing to life the characters in Stuart’s imagination and making for an ambitious and engrossing musical journey.
matadorrecords
Cannes sin cine argentino

No recuerdo un año peor, en la última década, para el cine argentino en Cannes. Es claro que nadie esperaba repetir la enorme cantidad de títulos de 2008, pero la sequía de esta edición es inusual. Técnicamente, hay un corto en Cinefondation (de la FUC, como siempre) y nada más. Ok, se puede decir que el corto del paraguayo Pablo Lamar también es medio argentino, que la película de Coppola se rodó aquí y tiene elenco y técnicos locales, que Gaspar Noé nació y vivió en la Argentina hasta los 13 años y que hay una coproducción con Colombia, dirigida por Ciro Guerra, que tiene un 20% de dinero argentino. Eso es todo.
¿Un baño de realismo? ¿La sensación de que Cannes, oficialmente, decretó que el NCA está terminado, como dicen muchos? ¿O pura casualidad de tiempos de terminación de filmes, etc, etc? No podría ensayar una respuesta. Creo que por un lado Cannes busca un poco más allá del cine argentino para encontrar tendencias en América latina. Tampoco hay mucho de Brasil (un largo, varios cortos) y de México (algo similar). Ahora se busca en Colombia, Chile, Paraguay, Uruguay. Me parece lógico y sensato intentar apostar a otras cinematografías cuando hay algunas (la argentina y la mexicana me parecen ejemplos claros) que han empezado a desarrollar una fórmula para ir a Cannes. Es como si los organizadores del festival se dieran cuenta del esfuerzo en hacer una película... para el festival.
Si bien era obvio que no iba a ser nunca similar al año pasado, tampoco creo que se pueda decir que no había películas para Cannes. Adrián Caetano --que presentó todo o casi todo lo que hizo allí-- tenía una. Luis Ortega tiene una. Creo que Alejo Taube tiene también una. Y hay varias películas que pasaron por el BAFICI que podrían haber entrado en secciones paralelas (la norteamericana "Push", ahora llamada "Precious", compitió en Sundance y ahora está en Un Certain Regard), como "Castro", "Doronship 77", "Todos mienten", "Excursiones" o varias otras. De hecho, vino gente de Cannes al BAFICI y no se llevó nada. Bah, acaso la de Coppola.
Así como el año pasado se habló del gran momento del cine nacional, la confirmación de que no hay ningún largo argentino allí servirá para replanteos y para preguntarse cosas. Creo que, de alguna manera, esas preguntas (que se están haciendo muchos, desde hace tiempo, en distintos foros) son bienvenidas y necesarias, sirven para analizar la manera en la que se están haciendo las cosas y para darse cuenta que, si es que hay una fórmula, ya está agotada.
Para terminar con una nota relativamente optimista: creo que el hecho de que una cinematografía sea rechazada por un festival mainstream como Cannes puede tener un lado positivo. Por un lado, como ya dije, para replantearse cosas. Por el otro, para pensar que, tal vez, los nuevos caminos que se están tomando todavía no son del todo aceptados por cierta "intelligentsia" festivalera. El caso "Historias extraordinarias" --que no estuvo en grandes festivales--es un ejemplo justísimo: el cine nuevo que está saliendo de la Argentina todavía no alcanza a ser categorizado ni clasificado. Pertenece al orden de lo inusual, lo raro, lo difícil de aprehender. Tal vez, a una década de "Mundo grúa", este sea el momento de hacer una pausa y barajar de nuevo.
"The Empty Nest/El nido vacío", de Daniel Burman (Village Voice review)
By Ella Taylor
Several years ago, the gifted Argentine writer-director and Jewish worrier Daniel Burman, then aged 34, remarked in an interview that he was already fretting about being abandoned by his toddler children. In his new film, the dreaded day has arrived—or has it? Empty Nest seems to tell the tale of a mid-life crisis endured by a comfortably situated intellectual couple when the last of their three children emigrates to Israel with her new husband. The mother, Martha (All About My Mother's Cecilia Roth), throws herself into a frenzy of activity, while her spouse, Leonardo (Oscar Martínez), a stalled playwright, retreats into contemplation of his accumulated fears, frustrations, and desires with dubious help from a bearded sage (Arturo Goetz) who specializes in Alzheimer's disease. Like all of Burman's existential comedies, Empty Nest comes thickly and pleasurably detailed with the minutiae of domesticity. Yet Burman toys mischievously with the way that dreams move in to help us cope with—or avoid—the impossible changes that take us by surprise even though we've anticipated them for years. Dark and light invariably go hand in hand in Burman's work, but this tender, goofily circular portrait of how we fill up the cavernous space once occupied by children begins and ends, beautifully, with an image of a man and a woman floating head to head on water—hapless, helpless, happy.
Al final, Coppola va a Cannes (Programación de la Quincena de Realizadores y de la Semana de la Crítica)

Se ve que su rechazo a participar en la Sección Oficial fue bien aprovechado por Olivier Pere quien le dio a "Tetro", de Francis Ford Coppola, el lugar de la apertura de la Quincena de Realizadores. Aquí, los programas.
Quincena de Realizadores
Feature Films (* denotes first film):
Tetro, dir: Francis Ford Coppola (US) Foto
Amreeka, dir: Cherien Dabis (US)
La Terre De La Folie, dir: Luc Moullet (France)
Humpday, dir: Lynn Shelton (US)
Polytechnique, dir: Denis Villeneuve (Canada)
Like You Know It All, dir: Hong San-Soo (South Korea)
Les Beaux Gosses, dir: Riad Sattouf (France )*
Eastern Plays, dir: Kamen Kalev (Bulgaria) *
Daniel Y Ana, dir: Michel Franco (Mexico) *
Here, dir: Tzu-Nyen Ho (Singapore) *
Ne Change Rien, dir: Pedro Costa (Portugal)
Go Get Some Rosemary, dir: Benny and Josh Safdie (US)
La Pivellina, dir: Tizza Covi and Rainer Frimmel (Austria)
Yuki & Nina, dir: Nobuhiro Suwa and Hyppolyte Girardot (France, Japan)
Carcasses, dir: Denis Cote (Canada)
De Helaasheid Der Dingen, dir: Felix Van Groeningen (Belgium)
Le Roi De L’Evasion, dir: Alain Guiraudie (France)
La Famille Wolberg, dir: Axelle Ropert (France, Belgium) *
I Love You Philip Morris, dir: Glenn Ficarra and John Requa (US)
J’ai Tue Ma Mere, dir: Xavier Dolan (Canada)
Ajami, dir: Scandar Copti and Yaron Shani (Germany) *
Navidad, dir: Sebastian Leilo (Chile)
Oxhide II, dir: Liu Jiayin (China)
Karaoke, dir: Chan Fui (Chris) Chong (Malaysia)*
Short Films:
Song Of Love And Health, dir: Joao Nicolau (France, Portugal)
Jagdfieber, dir: Alessandro Comodin (Belgium)
Nice, dir: Maud Alpi (France)
The History Of Aviation, dir: Balint Kenyeres Hungary)
American Minor, dir: Charlie White (US)
Anna, dir: Runar Runarsson (Denmark)
The Attack Of The Robots From Nebula-5, dir: Chema Garcia Ibarra (Spain)
Cicada, dir: Amiel Courtin-Wilson (Australia)
Drommar Fran Skogen, dir: Johannes Nyholm (Sweden)
Dust Kid, dir: Yumi Jung (South Korea)
Les Fugitives, dir: Guillaume Leiter (France)
John Wayne Hated Horses, dir: Andrew Betzer (US)
Superbarroco, dir: Renata Pinheiro (Brazil)
Thermidor, dir: Virgil Vernier (France)
Special screenings:
Montparnasse, dir Mikhael Hers (France)
Semana de la Crítica
Feature films:
Huacho, dir: Alejandro Fernandez Almendras (Chile/France/Germany)
Ordinary People, dir: Vladimir Perisic (Serbia/France)
Lost Persons Area, dir: Caroline Strubbe (Belgium)
Adieu Gary, dir: Nassim Amaouche (France)
Bad Day To Go Fishing, dir: Alvaro Brechner (Uruguay /Spain)
Whisper With The Wind, dir: Shahram Alidi (Iraq)
Altiplano, dir: Peter Brosens and Jessica Woodworth (Belgium /Germany/Netherlands)
Short films:
Together, dir: Eicke Bettinga (Germany /UK)
Noche Adentro, dir: Pablo Lamar (Paraguay)
Runaway, dir: Cordell Barker (Canada)
C’est Gratuit Pour Les Filles, dir: Marie Amachoukeli & Claire Burger (France)
Tulum, dir: Dalibor Matanic (Croatia)
Logorama, dir: H5 (France)
Seeds of the Fall, dir: Patrick Eklund (Sweden)
SPECIAL SCREENINGS FEATURE FILMS
Opening Night:
Rien De Personnel, dir: Mathias Gokalp (France)
Godfathers’s movie:
Hierro, dir: Gabe Ibañez (Spain)
SPECIAL SCREENINGS SHORT AND MEDIUM LENGHT FILMS
Closing Night:
La Baie Du Renard, dir: Grégoire Colin (France)
1989, dir: Camilo Matiz (Colombia)
Faiblesses, dir: Nicolas Giraud (France)
6 Hours, dir: Moon Seong-hyeok (South Korea)
Les Miettes, dir: Pierre Pinaud (France)
Elo, dir: Vera Egito (Brazil)
Espalhadas Pelo Ar, dir: Vera Egito (Brazil)
23.4.09
"Whatever Works", de Woody Allen (Variety review)

(U.S.-France) A Sony Pictures Classics (in U.S.) release of a Wild Bunch (France)/Gravier Prods. (U.S.) presentation of a Perdido (U.S.) production. Produced by Letty Aronson, Stephen Tenenbaum. Executive producers, Vincent Maraval, Brahim Chioua. Co-producer, Helen Robin. Co-executive producers, Jack Rollins, Charles H. Joffe. Directed, written by Woody Allen.
Boris Yellnikoff - Larry David
Melody - Evan Rachel Wood
Marietta - Patricia Clarkson
John - Ed Begley Jr.
Joe - Michael McKean
Randy James - Henry Cavill
Perry - John Gallagher Jr.
Helena - Jessica Hecht
Jessica - Carolyn McCormick
Howard - Christopher Evan Welch
"Whatever Works," Woody Allen's prodigal return to New York, takes the disconcerting form of a disquisition on quantum physics, love and chance, ranted directly to the camera by terminally misanthropic Larry David. Though stuffed with witty one-liners and wondrously convoluted tirades, this far-fetched, deliberately artificial game of musical chairs -- in which mismatched characters encircle, attract and repel each other -- feels forced, often losing itself in excess verbiage. Still, the David/Allen hybrid makes for a fascinating beast, of interest to acolytes of both comedians, if a far cry from "Vicky Cristina Barcelona," whose B.O. haul is unlikely to be matched by this June 19 Sony Classics release.
Dusting off a script he wrote more than 30 years ago, Allen casts David as Boris Yellnikoff, a brilliant string theorist "almost nominated for the Nobel Prize." Consumed by the big picture of the universe hurtling toward its own extinction, Boris despises all mankind, apparently angry that people are too stupid to be depressed. Having abandoned his rich wife and uptown apartment by jumping out a window in a failed suicide attempt, a limping Boris survives in a dilapidated apartment near Chinatown, supporting himself by teaching chess to little kids he flagrantly insults ("Inchworm!" "Sub-mental cretin!") and hanging out with old academic pals (Michael McKean, Conleth Hill), who are amused but unconvinced by his vitriolic spewings.
Into this semi-hermetic existence stumbles Melody St. Ann Celestine (Evan Rachel Wood), a young blonde pageant queen from the Deep South, sweet as pie and dumb as dirt. While she cooks him crayfish and calms his anxiety attacks with Fred Astaire movies, Boris alternately bemoans Melody's dimwittedness and regales her eager mind with everything from the Heisenberg uncertainty principle to a "Mikado"-like list of petty crimes that should be punishable by death. Much of the pic's comedy revolves around Melody's skewed or surprisingly apt regurgitations of his teachings, and Wood handles the evolution of her improbably Daisy Mae-ish character with surprising finesse.
A year into the odd couple's union, fate comes knocking at the door (to the opening bars of Beethoven's Fifth) in the form of Melody's Bible-spouting mother Marietta (Patricia Clarkson, in typically high-drama mode), who greets the sight of her daughter's irascible, elderly, gimpy hubby by falling out of frame in a dead faint.
But hedonistic New York proves the making of Marietta -- instantly divesting her of her born-again Christian mindset, liberating her starved sexuality and validating her amateur photography. Indeed, the city is big enough to turn around even the most backward misguided soul: When Melody's gun-fetishizing dad (Ed Begley Jr.) finally arrives, he too sees the light, thus proving the pic's moral that one must grasp whatever works to bring a bit of joy into a benighted world.
Throughout "Whatever Works," there are moments of discordance, ghostly echoes of the alter-ego problem Allen has faced for years in the absence of himself as central character.
On the plus side, Allen avoids the creepy ventriloquist effect of a younger actor mouthing his words and intonations by choosing as raucously individualistic a performer as David. Boris, who turns everyday anxieties are turned into cosmic angst (he periodically wakes up in cold sweats chanting Kurtz's "the horror ... the horror"), reps a distinct variation on Allen's persona. Boris may be a cooler know-it-all on the surface, but his equilibrium is more easily shaken, as demonstrated by his reaction when Melody drifts toward a Viagra-free relationship with a younger prospect (Henry Cavill).
But by forcing David, a total improviser who rarely delivers scripted lines, to incant impossibly long monologues (his to-the-camera ramblings effectively self-kidded by the visible bewilderment of the other cast members), Allen the director loses sight of what works. The film lacks breathing room -- it rushes forward like a stage play with pre-planned exits and entrances, soliloquies and asides. Even the city appears to be a set, with real Chinatown locations looking like isolated backdrops and touristy glimpses of Grant's Tomb and the Statue of Liberty sardonically inserted.
Kudos to David for having collaborated with the two greatest comedy icons of the generation prior to his: Allen here and Mel Brooks on TV (the entire fourth season of "Curb Your Enthusiasm" involves David's fictional assumption of the Bialystock role in Broadway's "The Producers"). It's undeniable that David's rawer comic style jibes more felicitously with Brooks' unromantic ethos, yet oddly, in keeping with the pic's celebration of random coincidence, both the Bialystock and Boris parts were originally conceived for Zero Mostel.Camera (Technicolor), Harris Savides; editor, Alisa Lepselter; production designer, Santo Loquasto; art director, Tom Warren; set decorator, Ellen Christiansen; costume designer, Suzy Benzinger; sound (Dolby Digital), Gary Alper, supervising sound editor, Robert Hein; re-recording mixer, Lee Dichter; visual effects supervisor, Randy Balsmeyer; visual effects, Big Film Design; stunt coordinator, Peter Bucossi; assistant director, Richard Patrick; casting, Juliet Taylor, Laura Rosenthal, Ali Farrell. Reviewed at Tribeca Film Festival (opener), April 22, 2009. MPAA Rating: PG-13. Running time: 92 MIN.
Get Me Rewrite! (The New York Observer)
By John Koblin
On Monday, April 13, the actor Ashton Kutcher sent a message out to his fans using the microblogging tool Twitter.
“My dad always said 'I'll believe when I hear it from the horses mouth,'” was the message his subscribers received. “twitter is the horses mouth. no more 'well the news said ...'”
By Friday, April 17, Mr. Kutcher became the first “Twitterer” to attract a million readers. He beat CNN.com's continuous headline feed, also syndicated to Twitter, by a half an hour.
Mr. Kutcher did not dismiss the Hollywood press corps in fewer than 140 characters. They've done it themselves, and the words keep pouring out about it.
Once upon a time, Variety owned the town of Hollywood. It was the hometown paper. Something only became news after it was reported in Variety. And if that ray of sunlight ever hit and you finally found yourself reading your own name in Variety, then maybe one day you’d be a “topper” somewhere.
And then—as the now-familiar story of journalism goes these days—the Internet happened, and so did the imploding economy. And so a vacuum of power, that motor of everything in Hollywood, opened up in the Hollywood press corps.
“Along come the blogs, and now they share that agenda with us,” said Neil Stiles, the publisher of the Variety Group. “There’s no question about that.”
“The agenda of the day,” he added, thinking aloud, “where we once had that on our own, we now share that.”
Of course, they're not all sharing nicely.
Or, put another way, Variety ceded its grip on the town entirely, and now the Hollywood press corps is in a state of revolution. There is no power structure. It’s all turned inside out and upside down. Everyone claims victory, but no one seems to have it, nobody is powerful enough to measure it. And, above all, it’s one nasty, mean, shrill place.
“For people working in the industry Variety and The Hollywood Reporter gave information,” said Sue Mengers, the original super-agent, reached at home. “You could see what movies are casting. What movies are shooting. Newspapers could never publish that information.”
Has she noticed anything different lately about Variety?
“Well, yes. It’s thinner—there’s less content,” she said.
Variety's Spicy Life
“In the universe there are 1,000 news sources,” said the veteran ICM power agent Ron Bernstein. “I’m just stating the obvious. Now there are a million alternate sources for news.”
And the business model for Hollywood news, everywhere, fell to pieces. Between Variety and The Hollywood Reporter—once a worthy competitior to Variety that has been ushered to the sidelines—the business has been tanking, but also, everywhere.
Between 2007 and 2008, IMS, a third-party tracking service, said that ads and barter ads in Variety, The Hollywood Reporter and The Daily Gotham went down 26 percent; according to an internal hand count by Brian Gott, the publisher of Daily Variety, they are down 31 percent in the first quarter for the three publications.
For years, Variety made money hand over fist. It was a machine. Recently, former editor Peter Bart said that “niche journalism is the most profitable sector if it works.”
If it works. And somehow it stopped working for Variety. Reed Business Information, its parent company, recently cut 7 percent of its staff, including 8 percent of the Variety Group.
Mr. Bart, the longtime editor, got kicked upstairs in favor of longtime No. 2 Tim Gray. Mr. Stiles, its publisher, outlined a few core reasons the business started tanking. The writers’ strike started it; the credit crunch followed; and then the Academy Awards season, said Mr. Stiles, was considerably smaller—fewer movies and fewer ads, particularly after Christmas, when big studios gave up on any chance of putting up a campaign against Slumdog Millionaire.
“From early on it looked like Slumdog Millionaire was going to clean up,” Mr. Stiles said. “So companies backed off a bit and said, ‘Look, we don’t have a prayer of winning so we might as well back off on the ad units because there’s no point in trying to influence people.’”
And there went the all-important “For Your Consideration” ads that buoyed the trade, targeted at Academy voters.
In many ways, the Slumdog phenomenon shows how the problem with the Hollywood press corps is only an extension of the churning of the larger Hollywood power structure. After all, who made Slumdog a winner? Not the studios themselves. There was already a wolf at the door.
Sure, Variety.com was a huge traffic generator—but there was a problem, the same one that is dawning on all major newspapers around the country. Bundles of readers and page views doesn’t translate into cash.
“Everybody has figured out how to build the traffic,” said Mr. Stiles. “What they didn’t work out is that when you get to the Promised Land, is it worth being there? The fact of the matter is, the business model is never going to be attractive.”
And it wasn’t: as a business, the magazine has taken a hit, and as everyone has learned—The New York Times included—digital advertising money is pennies to the (diminishing) print ad dollar.
Mr. Stiles said there needs to be a new focus—online will charge for some content, but not all. News should be free, but the archives and some specialized content will be entirely behind a paywall, which he believes will bring in money.
But, we asked him, if Variety isn’t on top now, what will it take to get back?
“It wasn’t, then it was, and now it isn’t again, and it will be,” said Mr. Stiles, the Variety publisher. “We just have to own that space again.”
“It might be Variety, it might be—I don’t know,” he continued. “I’m aiming to make sure it is Variety, but I wouldn’t be so arrogant as to assume we will be.”
Across town, the L.A. Times has never been able to fulfill its potential as a must-read in Hollywood. For years, the paper has been grappling with its identity. Dean Baquet, the former editor of the paper, liked to troll the hallways and say that the Times was going to own Hollywood!
But that never happened. The L.A. Times became hamstrung by too many internal conflicts (competing desks going after the same story, staffers upset that the Web site gives into celebrity link-baiting temptations) and, of course, a staff that is less than half the size of what it was eight years ago.
And they suffer from a similar problem to Variety. Bloggers like Nikki Finke have been nimble and fast, and while an L.A. Times reporter is on the phone waiting for confirmation, Nikki puts it up regardless if it’s right or wrong.
So perhaps in an attempt to combat Nikki Finke, the L.A. Times has restarted Company Town, which will be written by Joe Flint, a former Wall Street Journal reporter.
“We’ll be able to do things like a rumor of the day,” said one staffer. “Newspapers need to figure how to do this, to report on the things that we know—we know— are true, but that no one is confirming. And that’s where Nikki kills everyone. She goes out there and says it, and sometimes it’s true, and sometimes it isn’t, and no one holds her for account for what’s not true. And everyone credits her when she’s right. Hopefully, [Mr. Flint] will be able to figure it out.”
The Replacement Killers
“The trades have become increasingly irrelevant,” said Sharon Waxman, the former New York Times reporter who has started a blog of her own, The Wrap. “I used to get the trades. I used to get Variety every day and it’s been a long time since I got Variety every day.”
“When I started the Web site, I think people were—not surprised— but I think people realized ‘Oh my God, here’s the truth! This is not the pabulum that I’m getting every day,’” said Nikki Finke, the writer behind the daily blog Deadline Hollywood.
“The L.A. Times has a very strange relationship in Hollywood,” Ms. Finke said. “Sometimes it’s in bed with them, sometimes it’s not. It’s changed owners, changed editors, changed focus and—along with The New York Times—the L.A. Times has desperately needed advertising by the studio and networks and they have become more groveling. You just don’t see those negative stories that you used to.”
Whether it’s true or not—she would argue that everything that she says is true—it’s what gave her an opening and a following.
The Web site launched in March 2006, and by time the writers’ strike hit in the fall 2007, it was a bona fide hit and a must-read among everyone in Hollywood (and earned Ms. Finke our Media Mensch of the Year award).
“Nikki is the one to beat right now,” says the now-retired longtime Hollywood reporter Anita Busch.
Ms. Finke reported on her blog that Variety wanted to buy her (Mr. Stiles, the Variety Group publisher, said there was an early conversation, but it didn’t get much farther than that). Business Insider reported that Arianna Huffington was interested in buying Deadline Hollywood as well.
“We are not in any conversations to buy Nikki Finke,” Ms. Huffington said when we asked her about it. But had she ever entertained the idea? “We’re not in any conversations now. That’s all I can say.”
It might have been a good move.
“What is clear—what is absolutely clear—is that people in Hollywood have been hungry for an alternative,” said Ms. Waxman.
Ms. Waxman has a full-time team of six people, and a series of other contractors, many of whom are on one-month contracts, and her largest single investor is the venture capital firm Maveron, which was co-founded by current Starbucks chairman Howard Schultz and Dan Levitan, a former managing director at Schroders who helped with the Starbucks IPO.
In her office, in her West Coast home, she’s got a list of words up that can’t be used by contributors at The Wrap.
“We are not the trades,” she said. “We’re just not. Inevitably, people have come to us who are from the trades. So if I have to beat it out, I will do that! I do have a sign up that says I don’t want to see any of that industry jargon that is incomprehensible to the average reader. ‘A starrer! A helmer! A lensman!’ None of that stuff goes in The Wrap.”
She said she wants to watch her spending because when there’s a shake-out, which she said will inevitably happen with the trades and the broadsheet papers, she wants to be there. "They've come to The Wrap in great numbers because they want to read a site that doesn’t have an agenda and doesn’t have a nasty tone to it that is interested and knowledgeable about their lives and their business and their world and wants to report on it in a way that is lively and has a pulse, but isn’t mean-spirited.”
It sounded like a not-so-subtle jab at Ms. Finke, and before we knew it, we were in the middle of yet another fight.
“People around Hollywood are terrified of her,” said Ms. Waxman. “I’m surprised how terrified people of her. A journalist only has so much power as you give them.”
“I can’t believe that she’s saying that with a straight face,” Ms. Finke said. “Her site is getting no traffic and is inaccurate and boring. And no one in Hollywood is talking about it. She must be desperate.”
Several posts on The Wrap—down to analyzing how much Deadline Holllywood could sell for and another where a contributor calls Ms. Finke “emblematic of a true danger that now exists in journalism: the unchecked reporter”—have come after her.
Ms. Finke, characteristically, returned the fire.
“When I started my Web site, Sharon would say to me, ‘I hate your Web site,’” said Ms. Finke. “She said, ‘You take all your time and everyone is talking about you and I hate it.’ And I said ‘Sharon, if you’re my friend, aren’t you pleased? If you had something going for you, I would be pleased for you.’ Then she said ‘No, I hate it, I hate it.’ Then she lied to me about what she was doing! She said she was going to start a blog about politics. Totally lied to me! I had to hear from everyone else that she was going around to people and saying she was going to compete with me. What friend does that to another friend!”
Ms. Waxman called that account “inaccurate,” and added: "Nikki has her own view of reality which does not always accord to reality as others see it. The way she twists things and the way she always manages to bend the facts—and I put facts in quotes—is in a way that suits her.”
‘A Small Town, Filled With Sociopaths’
We asked Mr. Bart if he ever saw Hollywood like this before.
“Absolutely not,” he said. “During my first stint [at The New York Times], it was downright clubby. To the real old-timers, this harkens back to the days when there were giant feuds between Luella Parsons and Hedda Hopper. They would go at each other in screaming fits of rage. It’s a reminder of that era.”
Throw a line out and you’ll find dozens of feuds tumbling in.
In fact, we did just that, with Anita Busch, who didn’t take long to start a feud from beyond the journalistic grave.
“I do think it’s kind of surprising that Sharon Waxman even has a blog,” Ms. Busch told us. “I think she’s even one of the worst journalists I’ve ever encountered. I’ve never seen anybody that ignores the basics of Journalism 101 as she does. I find it surprising that she’s got this blog.”
“I try not to click through on Sharon’s Web site because I don’t want someone who doesn’t care about journalism to succeed,” she added, for good measure.
(Ms. Waxman replied: “I feel sorry for Anita Busch for saying such a thing like that. I think that’s a pretty sad statement. I think it says more about her than me.”)
Patrick Goldstein of the L.A. Times and Brian Lowry of Variety threw jabs at each other as well. Mr. Goldstein frowned upon the way Variety did business—serving as a mouthpiece for a studio, essentially.
Mr. Lowry, in a blog post singling out Mr. Goldstein, calls him lazy, petulant and a weak reporter. “Now you have this blog, ‘The Big Picture,’ so I’m thrilled to see a newspaper that has laid off more than half its staff since I left in 2003 has finally dictated that you squeeze out more than 800 words a week,” wrote Mr. Lowry.
It goes on. Variety did a piece on bloggers—Ms. Finke was mentioned in a not so flattering light. Then she slammed back hard as well.
“I was told that Peter Bart and Mike Fleming of Variety were going around town telling Hollywood to stop giving scoops to Nikki! Ha-ha!” she said. “Hollywood was laughing at that, saying, ‘You’ve got to be kidding! What, do you think we spoon-feed her? She finds stuff out on her own!’What they didn’t understand, there’s something called reporting.”
We told Mr. Bart this.
“I think that’s childish,” he said. “Once again, the idea that’s a little presumptuous is that I would advise people how to handle Nikki Finke. I’ve got more interesting things to do.”
“The important people don’t talk about the media noise,” said Mr. Bart, almost aspirationally.
And maybe that is the problem.
“We’re seeing that the entertainment vertical has become a one-stop shop where you can get the latest news in and from the Hollywood community,” said Arianna Huffington, the creator of The Huffington Post. “We’ve had members of the community like directors, producers want to go directly to the user with blogging.”
That is: Why drop your message with a trade, a newspaper—even a blogger—when you can reach a million readers without any of them?
Ms. Huffington pointed to the self-defense she published on her Web site by Ron Howard responding to the Catholic League that his upcoming movie, Angels & Demons, is anti-Vatican. Scarlett Johansson wrote about why it’s “reckless and dangerous” for celebrity rags to obsess over the weight habits of movie stars. Alec Baldwin recently lectured his Huffington Post audience about the need for newspapers: “Journalism is what is required now. And, yes, some commentary. But more journalism than commentary. That's what a newspaper does.”
Even proximity to a tweety star gives you a voice, as when Demi Moore, called "wifey" in a tweet by husband Ashton Kutcher, barked at him not to suggest an unhealthy dietary cleansing routine to his many fans.
When celebrities doing journalism lecture journalists about doing newspapers, for Web sites that compete with newspapers and magazines to cover the industry the celebrity works … Wait, what?
“For one thing, you have bloggers who need traffic and are desperate for attention,” said Mr. Bart. “The overriding truth of the blogging community is they’re trying to figure out how to monetize their endeavors. So you have to call attention to yourself. On that side, you have a clear motive.”
Put more bluntly, Ms. Busch said, “Hollywood is a small town filled with sociopaths. And when you’re assigned to cover that? You really have to be on your feet.”
As long as you don't get your legs broken, that strategy will work just fine.
On Sunday night, Mr. Kutcher was giving another “status update” to his million-strong audience. Celebrity news, straight from the horse's mouth!
“Off to a suprise b day party for … ,” he wrote; then, “Uh maybe not.”
CORRECTION: An earlier version of this article characterized Howard Schultz as an invididual investor in The Wrap, instead of co-founder of the venture capital firm that made the investment.
Sobre la programación de Cannes

Sólo puedo comentar lo que es obvio: muchos nombres reconocidos, enorme presencia europea (¡tres filmes españoles!) y mucha paticipación asiática. El lado flaco: poca presencia norte y latinoamericana, muy pocas primeras películas, pocas sorpresas. Y si uno se detiene en la gacetilla de prensa oficial (leer aquí) notará lo largas que son las películas de la competencia oficial: casi todas pasan las dos horas y algunas rondan los 150, 160 minutos.
No hay películas argentinas (no, la de Gaspar Noé no cuenta), como se preveía, y de América latina solo hay una película colombiana (la de Ciro Guerra, con 20% de participación argentina) y la de Heitor Dhalia, de Brasil. Y ambas en Un Certain Regard. Mañana, con el anuncio de la Quincena y la Semana de la Crítica se verán si aparecen algunas otras. Por la Argentina se pensaba con alguna posibilidad a la nueva película de Adrián Caetano, pero no está al menos en la oficial. ¿Será en la Quincena? También está lo nuevo de Luis Ortega, Alejo Taube y acaso algo más que se me escapa (¿por qué no traer alguna de las del BAFICI?), pero me pinta que, con suerte, habrá una sola película. O ninguna...
Raro, lo de los fenómenos geográficos. El año pasado se hablaba de América latina, con la enorme presencia argentina, seguida por la mexicana y la chilena. Y este año, nada de nada. Como siempre, las tendencias no suelen ser más que una serie de casualidades reunidas para tener algo sobre que escribir.
Se hablaba de Bruno Dumont, Jacques Rivette, Hong Sang-soo, Jim Jarmusch y Jaco van Dormael. Ninguna está. Pero entró Isabel Coixet, que no se caracteriza por un cine de autor demasiado consistente. Y hay otra película de Brillante Mendoza. Un Certain Regard tiene una inusual cantidad de nombres reconocidos, de esos que uno imagina rechazando estar en esta sección y esperando Venecia. ¿Ejemplos? Hirozaku Kore-eda, Pen-ek Ratanaruang, Bahman Ghobadi, Alain Cavalier o Bong Joon-ho. Y hasta está Raya Martin, con una película 77 minutos, algo inusual para él.
Lo que no me llama la atención pero si me sorprende por su consistencia en Cannes es el cine asiático. En competencia hay siete películas en parte asiáticas: Lou Ye, Tsai Ming-liang, Brillante Mendoza, Johnnie To, Park Chan-wook y podemos contar a Elia Suleiman y la película de Coixet, coproducida con Japón y con elenco hispano-nipón (!!!). Fuera de competencia y en UCR hay otras siete: dos películas de Raya Martin, Bong Joon ho, Hirokazu Kore-eda, Pen-ek Ratanaruang, Zhao Liang y Bahman Ghobadi. ¡Catorce sobre las 52 anunciadas!
Los norteamericanos parecen decididos a no arriesgarse más en Cannes. Salvo Tarantino, que sale siempre bien parado de allí, y la anunciada "Up", hay muy poco. La de Ang Lee ("Talking Woodstock") y "Bright Star", de Jane Campion, son lo más americano que se me ocurren sin serlo del todo (al menos no lo son sus directores y la de Campion es su película más australiana/inglesa en mucho tiempo). "Push", premiada en Sundance y ahora renombrada como "Precious", está en UCR. Una de terror de Sam Raimi, otra de Terry Gilliam y la coproducción de Alejandro Amenábar, fuera de competencia.
Veamos mañana cuando la Quincena, básicamente, y la Semana de la Crítica, terminen de definir el panorama de Cannes.
Programación de Cannes
Competition:
Un Certain Regard:
Opening Film
Closing Film:
Out of Competition:
Midnight Screenings:
Special Screenings:
Competition Jury:
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Nueva programación del Arte Cinema
ac Cartelera - del 23 al 29 de abril
ENTRE LOS MUROS de Laurent Cantet
14.40 - 17.00 – 19.20 – 21.40 hs.
LA TETA ASUSTADA de Claudia Llosa
15.00 – 17.20 hs.
EL ASALTANTE de Pablo Fendrik
19.35 – 21.10 – 22.45 hs.
EL TELON DE AZUCAR de Camila Guzmán
14.50 – 16.30 hs.
BATALLA EN EL CIELO de Carlos Reygadas
18.00 – 20.00 – 22.00 hs.
LUCA de Rodrigo Espina
23.55 hs.
Datos útiles
Ubicación.
Salta 1620 (Entre Av. Juan de Garay y Pje. Ciudadela)
Tel: 011 - 4304.8302
Horarios.
Todos los días 30 min antes de la primera función.
Como llegar
Colectivos: 4, 9, 12, 28, 39, 45, 59, 60, 61, 62, 100, 102, 151, 168
Subte: Línea C – Estación Constitución
Tren: Línea Gral .Roca – Estación Constitución
Tarifas
Entrada General: $16
De lunes a miércoles: $12
Est, y Jub: $12
Estudiantes de cine $10
Lo que vi de Los Campesinos!
"The Limits of Control", de Jim Jarmusch (Variety review)

A Focus Features release, presented in association with Entertainment Farm, of a PointBlank production. Produced by Stacey Smith, Gretchen McGowan. Executive producer, Jon Kilik. Directed, written by Jim Jarmusch.
Lone Man - Isaach De Bankole
Creole - Alex Descas
French - Jean-Francois Stevenin
Violin - Luis Tosar
Nude - Paz de la Huerta
Blonde - Tilda Swinton
Molecules - Youki Kudoh
Guitar - John Hurt
Mexican - Gael Garcia Bernal
Driver - Hiam Abbass
American - Bill Murray
(English, French, Spanish, Hebrew dialogue)
Drinking lots of espresso (emphatically two single shots in two separate cups) and impassively refusing to show any emotion (except once, when a waiter dares serve him a double in one cup) while making his way across Spain by plane, train and automobile, French/African thesp Isaach De Bankole makes for the most verbally inexpressive leading man since Wall-E, in his fourth appearance for Jarmusch. Blessed with boldly structured facial features that at least hold one's attention longer than would those of most people, De Bankole scarcely says a thing as he receives a series of enigmatic instructions from a succession of contacts -- "Go to the cafe ... wait two days ... the guitar will find you," this sort of thing -- and only springs to life while doing tai chi routines.
Pointedly ignoring the arguably overexposed Barcelona in favor of Madrid, Sevilla and other locations, Jarmusch would seem to have devoted more time to selecting -- and then, with ace lenser Christopher Doyle, deciding how to shoot -- the film's striking architectural settings than he has to layering his story with depth or meaning. Structurally, given the long trek to an unknown destination, "Limits" most readily calls to mind the estimable "Dead Man" among Jarmusch's films. But there are no cultural, spiritual or historical reverberations on this trip, only hollow echoes of such tough-minded genre classics as "Le Samourai" and "Point Blank" (after which this film's production company was named), as well as the director's own decade-old hitman tale, "Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai."
To be sure, the surfaces are alluring; Doyle and Jarmusch approach the many beautiful buildings and locations with graceful, often curving camera moves that specifically suit the physical nature of their subjects, and steer clear of pretty postcard shots. But with the exception of the unavoidably provocative all-nude, all-the-time performance of voluptuous Paz de la Huerta as a sex bomb who sleeps with the protag but can't get a rise out of him, the brief supporting turns, by the likes of Tilda Swinton, Gael Garcia Bernal, John Hurt and Bill Murray, come off like insider gags that verge on the silly.
Worst of all, it just feels tired and recycled -- the referencing of Rimbaud and Blake, the flagrant hipsterism that here falsifies rather than refreshes, the self-conscious plunking down of all manner of foreign actors in unlikely contexts, the above-it-all attitude toward connecting on a human level. And then there's the music, mostly by a Japanese electronic noise outfit called Boris, that drones on ultimately to congeal into a state of undead rigor mortis.
- (Person) Bill MurrayVoice, Director, Song Performer
- (Person) Bill MurrayConstruction
- (Person) Bill MurrayActor
- (Person) Bill MurrayDriver, Executive Producer, Photography
- (Person) Bill MurrayProduction Assistant
- (Person) Christopher DoyleActor
- (Person) Christopher DoyleActor
- (Person) Christopher DoyleDirector, Stunt Double, Stunt Player
- (Person) Christopher DoyleDirector, Cinematographer, Director of Photography
- (Film) Point Blank1967 - Lee Marvin, John Boorman
- (Film) Point Blank1998 - Mickey Rourke, Matt Earl Beesley

