Where have all the film critics gone?

Full disclosure: we used to be a struggling - aspiring, you might say - film critic, so we might be a tad biased where the following issue is concerned.

Local film critics are on their way out. The American Journalism Review says so right here. Part of us wants to say this is a good thing, because the trimming of newspaper staffs will allowed the industry to live on in the printed form for another few years. Another part os us thinks this is a travesty and further evidence that the globalization of the American media is the kick in the kneecaps before the death blow to the throat.

We can't decide; all we know is that we enjoy - nay, crave! - film commentary. We ourselves are only mediocre at it at best. We won a few awards in college for our movie reviews, but that was college. Gino Torretta won a few awards in college, too. Local film critics are necessary - for those towns with a local film scene. Our hometown has a population of 3,000 and recently renovated a theater that shows one second-run film per week. Needless to say, their weekly paper does not require a film critic.

But take the town(s) of Bloomington-Normal, Illinois, the metropolis we most often visit when we fly home for the holidays. They have a population of 100,000-plus, five theaters - one of which is an art/classic theater - and two universities that offer film degrees. Their local film scene could be described as sputtering at best, but how will people every become aware of events and films playing in their area without a neighborhood voice?

It's a sobering thought. So is being a journalism graduate in today's job market and economy. But that's what happens when you have parents who support your drive to become a writer.

The Bourne Ultimatum: our short-ass review

Matt Damon is no longer a Streisand; the first two films in the Jason Bourne trilogy established that. But in The Bourne Ultimatum, Paul Greengrass's frenetic third installment of the amnesiac spy series, Damon adds a touch of vulnerability we haven't seen before. In the first Bourne, we saw him fall in love; in the second, we saw him grieve; in this one, we see him grappling with who he is, who he was, and what he's going to become.

It's heady stuff, and that doesn't even touch on the plot, involving a CIA cover-up, agent betrayals, and verbiage even Jack Ryan couldn't decode. Ultimatum is perhaps the least accessible in the series, but it's also the most thrilling. It's a dazzling display of choreography, editing and in-the-trenches camerawork. In other words, it's a Paul Greengrass film. Ultimatum is the best action movie of the year, and on the short list for best of the decade. We don't want to spoil the ending for anyone who has yet to see it, but there's more than a chance we'll see Damon - and Bourne - again soon.

But not soon enough.

Ebert o-philes, rejoice!

We're not sure how obsessed you readers are with Roger Ebert, but we're largely so. And now, if you weren't already aware, you can watch all of he and Siskel and he and Roeper's reviews online. For free! Just give in and get it over with, people.

Ratatouille - see it now!

Brilliant. There's no other way to describe it. Other than David Fincher's Zodiac, this is the best film we've seen so far this year. We're just a bit ashamed it took us so long. Don't make the same mistake. See it now, dammit!

New Yorker be angry cuz you be disrespectin' the ladies

In all seriousness, this essay by film critic David Denby in the most recent edition of The New Yorker is brilliantly written (per usual), but it doesn't really seem like he understands the appeal of the films he's shredding. Judd Apatow, with films like Knocked Up, is making chick flicks. They're female empowerment films, even if they don't really feel or look like it. Their protagonists may be shlubby and lazy with no prospects for the future, but they don't actually get the girl until they turn their lives around. It makes sense, doesn't it? Thought so.

The art of the cameo

Film Babble has a post today listing "20 Great Modern Movie Cameos," which is a great idea in and of itself, but qualifying it as "modern" is definitely a must. The cameo is a fairly recent innovation, in part because today actors, directors, athletes, and celebrities in general are more apt to pop up in the films of others as a favor, for the money, or merely to revive a stalled career.

Their top choice: David Letterman in 1994's Cabin Boy. Interesting. We'd have gone with Bruce Willis and Julia Roberts in Robert Altman's The Player, but that film was so stuffed with cameos it almost feels like a copout. Whatever. It's almost quitting time and we had fish tacos for lunch. We're dying.

Give me some nose candy and a camera, I'll make you magic

Usually, the links we find at IMDB are uninspired, to say the least. But today, there was one we simply had to share with you: a list of the directors who crapped out in the 1980s. This is a brilliant idea and, quite frankly, one we wish we'd thought of days ago. Now, as can only been done when we feel outsmarted, we're going to leach off them.

It begins with the typical, "Were the 80s really that bad a time for filmmaking (it was), or was there some fine work being done by under-appreciated auteurs (there was) in between the Reagan-era shoot-em-ups?" Then, after a brief discussion of how the 70s are the "film school generation" and the 90s are the "videstore generation," we finally get to the list itself. It's extremely well-researched, comprehensive, and even insightful. Now, let's rip it apart.

1. John Hughes (Sixteen Candles, The Breakfast Club, Weird Science)
- The man invented the "teen film," so that either earns him praise or scorn, depending on your stance on the genre. Hughes was as expeditious as they came in the 80s, writing and directing seven films - all hits - and eventually gravitating toward more adult fare (Planes, Tranes & Automobiles) as the decade drew to a close. It's now been 16 years since his last directorial effort; it's safe to say he's peaked.

2. John Carpenter (Big Trouble in Little China, The Thing, Starman)
- You wouldn't know it now, but before Ghosts of Mars and Vampires were released, having John Carpenter's name preceding the film's title was a universal symbol of quality. Carpenter's slow fall from grace though, is just as much Hollywood's responsibility as it his. The more Carpenter films they remake, the further they drive the stake through his reputation.

3. David Cronenberg [Scanners, Dead Ringers, The Dead Zone)
- We call bullshit. Spider and A History of Violence are our two favorite Cronenberg efforts.

4. Oliver Stone (Wall Street, Platoon, Born on the Fourth of July)
- Arguable. JFK, Nixon, and Natural Born Killers are all damn fine films, but he did direct Tom Cruise's best performance ever.

5. Woody Allen (Stardust Memories, Hannah and Her Sisters, Crimes and Misdemeanors)
- Bullshit, again. Annie Hall was released in the 70s.

6. Rob Reiner (This is Spinal Tap, Stand By Me, The Princess Bride)
- Questionable, because, like Hughes, he's never done anything of merit outside the 80s. And Stand By Me and The Princess Bride owe more to their source material than to the direction.

7. Lawrence Kasdan (Body Heat, The Big Chill, The Accidental Tourist)
- Kasdan managed to direct Geena Davis to an Oscar, which in and of itself is impressive, but like Hughes and Reiner, Kasdan only had a short window of success. Also, his influence as a screenwriter (Raiders of the Lost Ark, The Empire Strikes Back), far outweighs his brief directorial moment in the sun.

8. Barry Levinson (Diner, Good Morning Vietnam, Rain Man)
- Another questionable choice, if only because Levinson was more prolific in the 80s does that outweigh his 90s ouvere of Bugsy and Wag the Dog.

9. Richard Donner (The Toy, Lethal Weapon, Lethal Weapon 2)
- Seriously? Donner made both The Omen and Superman in the 70s. Lethal Weapon or no Lethal Weapon, he made his mark in the decade prior.

Okay, honestly, we have to level with you: this guy goes on for like six more directors. We just don't have the patience to keep going. But feel free to check out his selections and analysis and let us know what you think.

The 50 best films of 2007 (so far) [Times Online]

Directors who made it in the 80s [Daily Film Dose]

Knocked Up vs. The 40 Year-Old Virgin

Judd Apatow can do no wrong. We love him. We love Freaks and Geeks, Undeclared, The 40 Year-Old Virgin, and his latest, Knocked Up. Apatow's empathy for his characters, his ear for dialogue, his ability to write believable female characters, and his refusal to cast big-name stars just to sell his work amazes us. That said, we're a little worried that Knocked Up may be getting more praise than it deserves. Its current Metacritic rating is 85, which translates to universal acclaim, and it opened to $29 million at the box office. The 40 Year-Old Virgin, on the other hand, carries a Metacritic rating of 73 and did $21 million in its first weekend.

Naturally, one would assume that Knocked Up is the better crafted, more successful picture. Only it's not. It's a fine film, by all standards, and will most likely end up being the funniest studio release of the year. But it's not on the same level of The 40 Year-Old Virgin. Why not? Let us count the ways.

1. The 40 Year-Old Virgin is more realistic
- It's conceivable that a 40 year-old stock room manager with a traumatic intimacy track could be a virgin.
- We buy that a single, middle-aged mother of three would be intrigued by a good-natured, genuinely caring, potential father figure - even if he does ride a bike.
- It's hard to believe that a pudgy stoner in his early-20s, no matter how witty or well-intentioned, would be an acceptable life-partner for a beautiful, career-oriented blonde.
- We don't see how the prospect of an abortion would be so easily discounted by two people who are obviously in no position to raise a child

2. The 40 Year-Old Virgin's characters are more likable
- The male protagonist in Virgin may be boring, but you instantly root for him. The male protagonist in Knocked Up requires a third-act life reversal to earn the audience's sympathy.
- The female protagonist in Virgin has had a hard life, but she's doing the best she can in an impossible situation. The female protagonist in Knocked Up seems nice enough, but we know practically nothing about her prior to her child's conception.
- The "buddies" who populate Virgin are the grown-up versions of the "buddies" in Knocked Up. They are instantly more sympathetic because they are older, have jobs, have/had real relationships with others, and perhaps had dreams at one point in time.

3. The beard jokes get old
- By the time the group of stones is situated in the waiting room at the end of Knocked Up, we've heard nearly every variation on the beard joke imaginable, and "late John Lennon" just falls flat.

4. The 40 Year-Old Virgin's running time is justifiable
- In Virgin, we spend the first half-hour just getting to know our characters, slowly building to the point of "love interest" introduction. By time the climax rolls around, we're ready for it, but haven't been waiting for it.
- In Knocked Up, we know how it's going to end - the baby's going to be born. The subplot involving the sister's troubled marriage is funny and human, but not enough to support the "A" story for two-plus hours.

5. The jokes are deeper, richer, and more rewarding the second time around
- Virgin was that rare comedy experience that required multiple viewings to appreciate the subtlety and nuance of the laughs at hand. Each time we see it on cable, we stop, even though we have the DVD.
- Knocked Up (we've already seen it twice), is just as funny the second time as the first, which is impressive enough in itself. But you don't pick up on anything you missed during the initial viewing.

All of this is bullshit nitpicking, of course, but we've just been stunned by the critical masturbation we've been reading the past few weeks. What does it mean? Comedy's in trouble and we're desperate for it. Knocked Up is the perfect antidote, but let's not "get out the anoiting oils" just yet.

We need to go Rocky III on that ass...

Movies today, they're just too damn long. It used to be storytellers knew when to get in and get out. Take The Godfather, for example: It's an epic, in every sense of the word, and it simply cannot be told the way it must be told in less than three hours. In it you're dealing with the struggle for power and acceptance, self-discovery, betrayal, renewal, and any other theme you can find within the sprawl of this masterpiece. Don't get us started on the second one; our affection for that film runs even deeper.

Or Die Hard, paradigm of the action genre. It stretches just past the two-hour mark, but it never feels bloated and no trace of filler is discernible. You have your frame story - cop husband come to visit estranged wife in high-rise, terrorists intterupt - and just enough secondary plot to support, but nothing's there that feels tacked on. When you have an anti-hero as likable as John McLane, you don't need padding.

Speaking of likeable, has there been a screen character in the past decade more likable than Jack Sparrow? Yet Disney feels the need to corrupt our faith in that character by neutering him, while at the same time forcing him to fight dozens of spare parts for screen time. Not the way to reinvigorate a franchise, if you ask me. What you do is Rocky III it, so to speak.

Remember Rocky III, when Apollo Creed helped turn Rocky Balboa from a lumbering, stationary brawler into a swift, almost nimble fighter's fighter? That's what the film industry needs to do with its movie franchises. You make a celebrated - or at least successful - original, you don't follow it up a 140-minute-plus brain drain like Bad Boys II. No, you make your sequel a leaner, meaner, version of its predecessor. Think Borne Supremacy.

There are sequels who have proven this formula wrong, however, and the easiest examples to spot both lie within the same set of films. X2: X-Men United was one of the few sequels to actually improve upon the original by expanding its scope, deepening its core characters, while bringing in unknown quantities that added to the experience, rather than detract. X-Men: The Last Stand tried to replicate the success of X2 by following that same formula - only "this time with 30 percent less story!" The Ratner method proved big at the box office - for one weekend at least - but the critical and audience reception to his attempt at channeling Singer was tepid to say the least.

What's the moral of the story here, kids? Hell if we know. We just want to see sequels that don't suck. We know how to do it. You've got to go Rocky III on that ass. Do it.