Fan Rant »

Let's say you're watching a horror film in which six or eight people get skewered in relatively explicit fashion. By all accounts, that film should be Rated R: Adults only, unless a parent decides different. That's an example of how a ratings board does good work: They see that a flick called "Saw" has "graphic, extreme violence" and they decide that their 12-year-old can live without that sort of stuff for a few more years. And obviously the same holds true for rampant profanity, nudity, sexual situations, or drug abuse. Some stuff simply isn't meant for kids, period.

So obviously I have no problem with a "ratings board," in theory, but in practice? Sheesh. The one we currently have (the MPAA) is so broken, so twisted, and so confused that I'd like to call for a complete do-over. Fire the whole staff, raze the whole damn building if you have to, and start over from scratch. Because I say the MPAA is either A) monumentally clueless, B) stunningly corrupt, or C) a combination of both. Hell, this is a group that created an "adults only" rating, and then did all it could to make it into the new "porno" label. I can hear your eye-rollings already, and I can't really blame you: Serious film fans have been complaining about the MPAA's blatant hypocrisy for years now, and if you thought that Kirby Dick's ballsy documentary This Film is Not Yet Rated was going to usher in a new era for the MPAA ... sorry to say you were dead wrong.

We've all lamented the way that Christmas decorations, candies, and wrapping paper start appearing on store shelves between fake pumpkins and cheesecloth ghosts. In some stores, the Christmas stuff appears as early as July or August. But when it comes to our local multiplex, we're generally safe from holly and plum pudding until it's actually cold outside. Not this year.

Being entertainment fiends, I'm sure that the last week found most of you were tuning into AMC, IFC, and other assorted channels to check out their horror selections. You were also undoubtedly watching your favorite television shows, football teams, and following the World Series. I'll bet that you saw the tv spots for A Christmas Carol around ten times a day. Possibly more than that given all the games. Did you feel a cold chill run down your spine?

I did, and it wasn't caused by a pocky Jim Carrey or the possibility of Robert Zemeckis' mo-cap dead eyes. It was the fact that my jack o'lantern was flickering on my kitchen counter, bell jars of bones were decorating the top of my television, and Shadow of the Vampire was beckoning from my DVR. It was Halloween weekend. Even after October ticked down to its last gasp and we fell back, it was still autumn. It's harvest time. It's heartwrenching drama time, the real start of the Oscar race. It's time for The Road, The Men Who Stare At Goats and the Coens. It is not Christmastime. I don't care what the Three Spirits try to tell me, or whether Tiny Tim wants God to bless us, every one. I'm not going to listen until December 1. Perhaps I'll miss a great 3D thrill ride and the velvet voice of Colin Firth, but I'm not ready for snow and Dickensian morality just yet. Are you?

As you may have seen, Nicole Kidman is the focus of some ridiculous headlines today, with everyone from the AP to The Hollywood Reporter and E! blaring that Kidman "conceded" to Washington that Hollywood contributes to violence against women. It's the kind of headline I hate: Attention grabbing, anti-entertainment, and completely misleading.

Kidman is a Goodwill Ambassador for UNIFEM, and was testifying before a House Foreign Affairs committee. Her goal was funding and resources, and to discuss violence against women overseas. The committee is currently debating whether to pass legislation for humanitarian relief. In true government fashion Rep. Dana Rohrabacher ( R-Calif) decided having A Real Hollywood Star was a chance to shift the discussion into shallow ground, and ask Kidman whether or not the movie industry had played "a bad role." Kidman, who probably came prepared to actually discuss humanitarian efforts, gave a fairly bland answer: "Probably." She hastily added that she didn't feel her own roles had, that she was through with roles that portrayed women as weak or as sex objects. "I can't be responsible for all of Hollywood but I can certainly be responsible for my own career," she added, and argued that Hollywood had also "contributed to solutions."

Undoubtedly, many will blame Kidman for making a shallow statement, and poke fun at her poorer script choices, but surely the blame falls on Rep. Rohrabacher for such an inane question. While Hollywood's portrayal and treatment of women is hardly stellar (if you read Cinematical regularly, you know we complain about it on an obsessive basis), and is certainly harmful socially and culturally, I would hardly blame it for violence. That's just the usual government claptrap that loves blaming the big, bad movie industry for glorifying sex and violence, and would now attempt to dodge humanitarian obligations by blaming Moulin Rouge.

It all started out so well. Timothy Olyphant is the man of the law, the local townsfolk are enjoying the start of the baseball season, and everything is sunny. When one of their own hits the field with a gun, however, he has no choice but to shoot the guy and save the rest. And then more folks start acting strange, things get eerie, people die, the government flies in, and the fight for life begins. It's the classic horror setup.

Then there's a quick cut and the music starts with f minor. Softly but surely, the '80s song that was slowed down and made infamous through a montage of tears plays as people run through burning streets, as the military moves in, as people are strapped to gurneys, as they all fight to stay alive. Yes, it might be a "Mad World," but Gary Jules is not suited for it. In Donnie Darko, the song was beautiful, gut-wrenching, and perfect for the tone at hand.

Taking a cue from the song: I find it kinda funny that they decided to go with the recent hit rather than going back to the original. Why? It actually fits. The low, electronic notes that carry the Tears for Fears version are eerie, and if you watch this trailer for The Crazies over at Apple, and start the original song at roughly 1:40, it lines up. Suddenly the increasing chills of the beginning are made creepier. Even some of the action is perfectly synched.

The town fighting The Crazies might be a "Mad World," but there's no room for somber melancholia in a horror trailer -- especially when it's a song already made famous with a perfect cinematic fit.

Admittedly the news that Paramount has abandoned their remake of Paranormal Activity in favor of releasing an original film for a change is interesting news, but within the same Variety profile of Steven Schneider (one of their "10 Producers to Watch") baring that particular revelation is even cooler news. Oddly enough what has me all a flutter is not even buried deep within the article, it's in the opening sentence, "With "Paranormal Activity" readying to open via Paramount and a raft of projects poised at other venues -- including "The Colony" at Participant, "Sacred Prey" at Warner Bros. and "13: Game of Death" at Dimension -- Steven Schneider may become the dark genre's warlock of choice."

Wait a sec. "13: Game of Death" at Dimension"? Apparently I'm the only one who cares about the accidental announcement that a remake of the coolest genre movie to come out of Thailand in years is no longer just hypothetical. I know the rights to 13:GOD were purchased by the Weinsteins well over a year ago, but such behavior is not out of the norm (buying the remake rights to obscure foreign films is a morning ritual for those two). As expected, there has been zero visible movement towards making the film a reality until now. And considering one of Variety's "10 Producers to Watch For" is involved, I'd say it finally has a fighting chance to see the light of day.

The other day I watched My Life in Ruins out of curiosity and because I was bored. In the past, I've been quite cynical about the movie and Nia Vardalos's upcoming film I Hate Valentine's Day, but when all was said and done, I was a captive audience. And you know what? I like Nia Vardalos. I want to root for her. But it was in spite of myself that not only did I like it... I cried.

Yes, despite the hackneyed plot – woman uproots her life, is cranky and miserable and loveless, then gets her groove back, along with a hunky fellow; despite the use of every possible ethnic and sexual stereotype possible; despite a love interest whose name is Poupi Kakas; and despite the complete lack of innovation in terms of the romantic comedy genre.... I liked it. And I cried. And I was very embarrassed.

I cry at a lot of movies, which is awkward, since I see a lot of movies, often with colleagues, friends, and publicists. After seeing The Fall, which I adored, another viewer asked me if I was okay. I bawled during the excellent movie Bright Star, although I am 99 percent sure everyone else did too. I even cried during Seven Pounds, one of the most ludicrous and manipulative "feel-good" movies I've ever had the trauma of sitting through. And after seeing The Family Stone one Christmas, hoping for the light-hearted comedy that the trailers promised, I left the theater dazed and angry at how mean-spirited and sad it was.

There are certain things that set me off, but even the lamest Sunday afternoon guilty pleasure can get me sniffling.

Are you a movie crier? Which movies have you cried at? (No need to get gory with whys and wherefores.) Were you in a public theater? What do you do when you start tearing up (or sobbing)?

By now you've probably seen the Youth in Revolt trailer that Erik shared last week. In his post, he was noting how "Nick Twisp (and his various amounts of shtick) is a good ten steps out of [Michael] Cera's comfort zone -- so it's nice to see him taking that leap." Me, I was too focused on that moustache.

Did anyone else immediately get transported to that scene from Almost Famous? The one where young William is in the boys' bathroom, plagued by his youth while the other boys revel in their puberty? No doubt, that little whisp of Twisp's upper-lip hair was placed on Cera to present a ridiculous looking young "French" alter-ego. However, as much as I'm interested in seeing the film, I wonder if I'll be able to stare at anything but that lip fluff. It might just be more distracting than Gary Oldman's screaming face posters in Prisoner of Azkaban.

Avatar Day is now over and done with no matter what time zone you live in. Tales of lines and half-full showings abound, and I know some of my fellow Cinematical writers will be chiming in with their thoughts about their own experience. But I thought I'd share my own which won't be a reaction to the footage, but about being shut out of Avatar Day.

I scored two tickets without much of a problem, as every Colorado theater had plenty of Avatar tickets, suggesting that the buzz from San Diego hadn't carried very far offline. I had a crazy, no-good day and I arrived at the theater at roughly 6:59. It took a minute to get to the ticket office, another to get re-routed to the customer service desk, and another to get to the theater. By my estimation, I was at the theater doors by 7:01 or 7:02 at the latest. The two Fox publicists at the door take my e-mail, hand it back, and then stare at me. "Sorry." "What? I can't get in?" "No. This started at 7:00."

They weren't friendly, but brusque and barely apologetic, with a hint of the "You're late to class and just dropped a letter grade" about them. I didn't tell them I was press, and I don't think it would have made a difference. Besides, shouldn't I experience this as any average moviegoer would? This average moviegoer was being snubbed from attending a free piece of marketing. I wasted my time, my gas, and my printer to be turned away for being a minute late.