Look, this has nothing to do with films that air on cable television without commercial interruption. And it's even hard for me to rant against films that air on television with commercial interruption because this is the way it's been done for many years now. I can deal with that. I have a DVR, I can record films that air on, say, NBC, and fast forward through the commercials. Sure, from time to time I'll stumble across a flick like Lord of the Rings: Return of the King on TNT HD, become sucked in because Peter Jackson created three awesome movies, and have to deal with commercials since I never recorded it. This happened to me yesterday.

But what I didn't sign up for was to watch some stupid character from whatever random television show drop down the middle of my television screen and start waving at me during a key scene in the film. Oh yes, from out of nowhere this guy swings right down the middle of the screen where he meets some girl and -- whaddya know -- it's an advertisement for another TNT show airing later in the week. Thanks. Because it's bad enough they have to interrupt these films with five-or-so minutes of advertisements, but now they're advertising things DURING THE FREAKING MOVIE.

I got over the watermark in the lower corner because they've since made them a bit more translucent (though MTV is notorious for covering up dialogue on the bottom of the screen with their stupid watermark). But this ... I simply cannot get over. I've noticed these little miniature characters walk on the screen during films and TV shows on both TNT and TBS, and I'm not sure who else is at fault but it needs to stop now. It's literally so irritating that I've banned TNT and TBS in my apartment. Not watching either station until they lose the stupid ads. Please join me.

With Thanksgiving coming up, I thought I'd revisit Planes, Trains & Automobiles, one of the few movies directly connected to that holiday and a delightful comedy classic in its own right. It had been several years since I'd watched it, and I assumed that in the meantime it had been released on some kind of special edition DVD. Last year was its 20th anniversary, in fact -- a fine time to put out a handsome disc with lots of extras.

Or so you'd think! As it turns out, Planes, Trains & Automobiles has only legitimately been released on DVD once, way back in 2000, with a poor video transfer and no extras whatsoever. Not even a trailer. Not even the extra scenes that are commonly included when the film airs on television. Deepening this wound is the fact that, as several reviewers noted at the time, Paramount's announcement of the DVD had promised it would have deleted scenes. Why the studio changed its mind at the last minute no one knows, but it sure disappointed people in 2000 who had been looking forward to the DVD.

The film was released again this summer as part of VH1's "I Love the '80s" series, but it still didn't have any extras and was essentially a rip-off in new packaging. The only bonus was the incorporation of one additional scene, of Neal and Del eating food on the airplane, that's often shown in the TV version. That's hardly a good enough reason to re-buy the disc, though.

Why is there no special edition of this movie? It's a perennial favorite. It is beloved. It is oft-quoted ("Those aren't pillows!"). It frequently appears on polls of movie fans' favorite comedies. Its very title has become shorthand for any trip punctuated by mishaps and setbacks, as in, "Our vacation to Mexico was a disaster -- it was a total Planes, Trains & Automobiles situation." You would buy it, right?

...and yet still managed to be a damn good movie? Well I sure thought it was, anyway, even if the Tomato-meter doesn't seem to agree with me. I said lots of nice things about the flick back in my original review, but I also longed to see Peter Berg's original cut. The one that wasn't sacrificed at the altar of the demigod known as PeeGee-Thirteen.

So hey! Hancock comes out on DVD next week, and guess what? Two different versions! (Three if you count the Blu-Ray, which offers both versions in the same package.) OK, so according to this DVD cover, the theatrical cut runs 92 minutes, while this DVD cover clearly illustrates that the Unrated Cut goes about 102 minutes. And you don't need t snip a full ten minutes just to excise a few F-bombs. Needless to say, I'm very enthused about checking out the "unrated" cut -- but they don't actually call it a Director's Cut ... so could we be looking at another DVD somewhere down the line? (What a shocking assumption, I know.) For more on the Hancock DVD, check out this review that I'll read in about a week. But I trust the source.

There's a reason that us critics tend to hold certain films in excessive regard -- because after seeing hundreds and hundreds of them every year, to champion one or two or a dozen across those fifty-two weeks is a chance to bring attention to something that deserves it, something distinctly non-mediocre and perhaps unconventional.

Dear Zachary: a letter to a son about his father falls into that category. Erik praised it effusively from its Slamdance premiere and beyond; soon joining his ranks would be Monika; and it currently lingers second to only one on my own tentative top ten list for 2008. We get it. According to Rotten Tomatoes, 33 out of 34 critics get it. In fact, it seems like the only ones who don't get it just happen to make up the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences.

On page 11 of the current issue of Entertainment Weekly, next to an article about the Oscar race, there is this brief item:

"Earning some of the harshest reviews of the year, The Boy in the Striped Pajamas is officially the first Holocaust movie that won't have a shot at winning an Oscar."

What?

First of all, it's not even true. There have been several Holocaust movies that never had a serious chance at an Oscar. Robin Williams' loathsome Jakob the Liar comes to mind. (Whoops, EW liked that one.) But I get that EW is exaggerating for the sake of a joke about how Holocaust movies "always" get Oscar attention. Fair enough.

The more baffling assertion is that The Boy in the Striped Pajamas is "earning some of the harshest reviews of the year." It has gotten a few very scathing reviews, that's true -- but they comprise a very small minority. The film has a 64% Fresh rating at Rotten Tomatoes, with an average score of 6.2 out of 10. Saying it's earning some of the harshest reviews of the year while failing to mention the overwhelming majority that aren't harsh is like saying "some people" hate ice cream. It might be true, but it's misleading when you're looking at the big picture.

And are the harsh ones really that harsh? I tend to think the fiery excoriations of Disaster Movie and Witless Protection were much harsher, though I guess that's a matter of opinion.

(from left to right) Sean Gullette in Pi, Ellen Burstyn in Requiem for a Dream, Hugh Jackman in The Fountain, and Mickey Rourke in The Wrestler

I had been writing a rambling introduction to this piece, but to make a long anecdote short, I decided to re-watch the works of writer-director Darren Aronofsky prior to seeing his new film, The Wrestler. Out of more happenstance than planning, I began his first film exactly a day to the minute before this one would end, and now I offer up my thoughts on his career to date. (Who knows what more could come following this: 24 Hours of Fincher? 36 Hours of Boyle? My Dinner with Andre Benjamin's Idlewild?)

Of all the showings, of all the movies, of all the days, of all the theaters, of all the towns in all the world -- she walks into mine. Maybe six years old, dragging a jacket and followed close by her probable brother (I'd say around twelve). They come in and sit beside who appears to be their oldest brother (eighteen perhaps?) and their mother, who continues to text and talk away through the movie they already missed nearly an hour of.

And they're all sitting a row away from me.

Note: The following includes potential spoilers

When I first saw Rachel Getting Married in the middle of the Toronto maelstrom, I knew I'd have to see it again before I could write or speak about it coherently. I was sure that I liked it, but not how much -- I couldn't quite make heads or tails of the last third of the film, and having to rush off to another film prevented me from thinking about it. This week, I finally got my second viewing; I like it a lot. But what struck me the most this time around was Bill Irwin's astonishing turn as Paul Buckman, the tortured, loving father of the bride. Irwin has not gotten much love in the reviews, and that is a travesty. He gives the richest, most generous performance I've seen from anyone this year.

The IMDb informs me that Irwin, a veteran character actor, is a mainstay on Sesame Street; Wikipedia reveals that he's a clown by trade. This makes perfect sense, and indeed helps explain his complete humility in Rachel Getting Married. Remember the scene where Rosemarie DeWitt's Rachel, in the middle of an argument with Kym (Anne Hathaway), drops the bombshell that she's pregnant? Paul's reaction might be the film's most memorable moment -- he flips out, screaming and bunny-hopping over to his daughter (it's a testament to Jonathan Demme's brilliance that he puts this in the background of the shot); after things calm down a bit, he still looks like he is about to lovingly devour his family. The way he paws at his wife while randomly growling "Does anybody want a sandwich?!" is worth ten dollars all on its own.

I will never understand why we're so afraid of sex in this country. It boggles my mind. Not only are we deathly afraid of sex, but we're also afraid of words. Combine a scary word and a film that carries a sex scene or two and you have what some would argue was an act of terrorism. Seriously. Ask Utah Jazz and Megaplex Theatres owner Larry Miller, who is refusing to screen Kevin Smith's Zack and Miri Make a Porno because he feels "it's very close to an NC-17 with its graphic nudity and graphic sex."

To take a page from Eric D. Snider, who took a page from SNL's Weekend Update ... really? Really, Larry Miller? So you have no problem screening Saw V in your movie theaters and exposing your customers to over-the-top violence and gore, but Zack and Miri is off limits? Really? Seriously? And you'll also screen films like The 40 Year Old Virgin and Knocked Up, which use raunchy, foul-mouthed language and feature rampant drug use, but you won't screen a film that has -- what? -- one to three scenes of nudity and "pretend" on-camera sex? Really? And this man is allowed to own an entire chain of theaters? Seriously? Really?

Now, it's been over a month since I last saw Zack and Miri Make a Porno, but trust me on this one folks -- the on-screen nudity is tame and rather harmless. And if you're ponying up the cash to see a flick directed by Kevin Smith that includes the word 'Porno' in its title, then something tells me you're expecting a little bit of dirty. We here at Cinematical call on Mr. Larry Miller to admit his moronic faults, screen Zack and Miri Make a Porno in all of his theaters and write an apology note to Kevin Smith, his fans and myself for having to waste over 300 words on this idiot.

Oh, and I hope the Utah Jazz have a miserable season.

[via NY Post]

First off I want it made clear: I'm not knocking the DirecTV service, which I have used in the past and had no problems with. No, what I'm talking about is the room full of marketing whiz-kids who got together and decided that wedging their sales pitches into well-known movies would be a good idea. I've seen the ads mostly during sporting events: There's the T2 one, which is obnoxious but not all that offensive. There's the Back to the Future one, which really gets under my skin. And then there's the National Lampoon's Vacation one, which is played during (literally) EVERY break in the World Series. (Hey thanks, ad-makers, for ruining an otherwise amusing scene in a movie I really like.)

But both of these ads could be overlooked, ignored, dismissed as obviously tacky, and never thought of again ... but then there's the DirecTV "Poltergeist" commercial, which is in such poor taste that it boggles my mind. Here it is for those who haven't seen it yet -- and yes, I fully acknowledge the irony of sharing a clip that I actively detest, but let's see if you can figure out why it sickens me so much...
Yeah, it's because that little girl died tragically at 12 years of age. And everyone over the age of 20 knows it. So instead of thinking about how great Poltergeist is, or how maybe DirecTV is a cool service, all we're thinking is "Jeez, Craig T. Nelson should have known better. This is really uncool." And the same goes for Robert Patrick, Christopher Lloyd, and Christie Brinkley. (Monika B. shared her own thoughts on this ad campaign a few weeks ago.)

On top of all this stupidity is a bigger issue: If DirecTV is trying to appeal directly to hardcore movie fans, they should come up with a better approach than "Hey look, our ads have been inserted into your favorite movies!" Maybe something that actually, I dunno, shows a little respect for the act of film-watching. Like maybe the ad shows a bunch of people sitting down to enjoy Vacation on DirecTV, and someone keeps flipping the station to TV commercials, so in comes Chevy Chase to smack the guy. You can have that pitch for free if you promise never to exploit a dead child again.