LIST: The Best Films of 2008

For various reasons, it took me a while to catch up with last year’s releases, and I’ve only just finished watching 2008’s more prominent films. Fortunately, just about all of these movies are now out on DVD for your renting, Netflixing, or I suppose, torrenting pleasure. Since the list is arriving late, I thought I’d make this part 1 of a two-part post. The following are my Top 10 films of 2008, with my favorites of the first half of 2009 to be posted in the coming days.

Honorable Mention - a few films that just missed the list, but I still feel a great deal of respect or affection for:

Doubt for creating drama out of the unsaid and the ambiguous.

Gran Torino because Clint Eastwood growled (and unfortunately sung) in an excellent performance.

Forgetting Sarah Marshall for introducing non-HIMYM fans to Jason Segal’s smart, self-deprecating brand of humor.

Revolutionary Road for its brutal depiction of broken dreams in suburbia.

Synecdoche, New York because it’s confusing, maddening, possibly brilliant -- and I’m still not sure how I feel about it.

And now, the list...

10) Burn After Reading

I never had much intention of seeing Burn After Reading a second time, but it was on TV and thought I’d watch the first few scenes. Ninety-six immensely enjoyable minutes later I realized I had watched the whole thing straight through again. I used to say I wasn’t a fan of the Coen Brothers’ slapstick comedies, but this is a slick ride through a series of misunderstandings, coincidences and absurdities that moves so effortlessly it’s no wonder I didn’t notice I’d watched the whole thing again. Burn After Reading has a fantastic ensemble cast and is the second Coen Brothers film in a row (No Country For Old Men) to feature virtually perfect editing.

9) Slumdog Millionaire

Danny Boyle (Trainspotting, 28 Days Later) proved here that despite working within starkly different genres, he has a kinetic visual and storytelling style all his own. The film bounces from the comedic to the tragic in a touchingly human story that proves the strength of emotion (and game shows) across cultures. Jai Ho all the way.

8) Vicky Cristina Barcelona

This breezy film from Woody Allen may have the feel of a minor work from the prolific writer/director, but it’s not to be dismissed. The film is one the best latter-day Allen films: an examination of interpersonal relationships affected by adultery with a healthy dose of cynicism. Pénelope Cruz steals countless scenes in an Oscar winning role, but it’s Rebecca Hall’s breakout performance that had me hooked. Add some beautiful shots of scenic Barcelona and crackling writing from Mr. Allen and you’ve got a film that is very hard to resist.

7) Waltz With Bashir

This “animated documentary” from Israel follows a filmmaker through a series of interviews in pursuit of memories from his days in the Israeli army during the Lebanon War of 1982. Using a stylish animation (“Not rotoscoping!” insists the animator on the film’s DVD) to bring former soldier’s accounts to life, Waltz With Bashir is an explosion of color and shape. It examines how the human mind deals with war and what happens to those memories years later. An emotional and intelligent film, equal parts war action and psychology.

6) In Bruges

Deepest apologies to Forgetting Sarah Marshall and Pineapple Express (both of which I enjoyed), but In Bruges is my favorite comedy of 2008. The blackest of comedies, this is a foul-mouthed, violent movie about two hitmen killing (pardon the pun) time in the tiny tourist trap of Bruges, Belgium. Colin Farrell and Brendan Gleeson boast the comfort of a classic comedy duo in their banter and Ralph Fiennes shows up at the end for an extended cameo that brings the film to bloody, but oh so wonderful finale. For those who love the politically incorrect or hearing the f-bomb in an Irish accent, a better film doth not exist.

5) Happy-Go-Lucky

A charming character study of the carefree and seemingly air headed Poppy (Sally Hawkins in an energetic and absorbing performance). Largely improvised, Happy-Go-Lucky follows Poppy as she hangs out with her friends, teaches kindergarteners, dates and (most memorably) gets driving lessons from an authoritarian instructor (Eddie Marson). Avoiding a standard plot, writer/director Mike Leigh chooses to follow several threads of Poppy’s life, in an effort to show all sides of her. The final result is not only representative of Poppy’s life, but also rings true on a more basic, human level. It is, at turns, laugh-out-loud funny and quietly poignant.

4) The Wrestler

The fourth film from Darren Aronofsky departs from such highly stylized films as Pi and Requiem for a Dream, choosing instead to simply observe its subjects. The film immerses the viewer in an honest portrayal of the life of a (fictional) former pro-wrestling star, Randy “The Ram” Robinson. Despite the sometimes brutal violence that occurs in the ring, The Wrestler reveals pro-wrestling to be a supportive community of men that share a common interest and the film gets to the heart of what this man wants and needs in his life. I became more emotionally involved in Mickey Rourke’s performance in The Wrestler than any other this year, following his elation and depression with strong emotions of my own. The film examines how people can extend "fake" personas into their personal lives, and the very real effects that result. Exceptionally written, brutally directed and brilliantly acted.

3) Milk

By seamlessly combining historical footage with its dramatized portrayal of gay rights activist Harvey Milk, Milk has an authenticity few biopics possess. Director Gus Van Sant moves the movie at a fast pace, but finds the time to closely examine a man during a politically charged moment in history. Both entertaining and informative, Milk is an enjoyable experience that holds huge relevance for the current times. It also features a superb performance from Sean Penn who always impresses me by absorbing himself so thoroughly in his roles and a strong supporting role from Josh Brolin who has been building an impressive body of work as of late.

2) WALL-E

No other film this year showed more creativity both visually and narratively than WALL-E. It’s a touching story wrapped in an intelligent science-fiction film and might just be Pixar’s finest yet (although I still hold a candle for Finding Nemo). The environmental message never upstages the innocent romance that takes cues from old Hollywood films. WALL-E also pays tribute to such sci-fi classics as 2001. It is a hybrid of all these things, but mostly it’s just irresistibly charming.

1) The Dark Knight

There are very few things I can say about The Dark Knight without resorting to hyperbole or repeating what seem to have become clichés (“the greatest superhero film ever!” “a gripping crime epic!” “iconic!”). All of those things are true, but The Dark Knight gets my #1 spot because it is the most entertaining film this year. Because it is smart and stylish and just plain awesome. Because it has more quotable and memorable scenes than any other movie in recent memory. Because it unearthed an excitement in me not felt since childhood. As a fan of Batman, movies in general, and all of American pop culture, I embrace The Dark Knight with cape-soaring, coin-flipping, pencil-stabbing glee!

- Steve Avigliano, 7/31/09

REVIEW: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (2009): Dir. David Yates. Written by: Steve Kloves. Based on the novel by: J.K. Rowling. Starring: Daniel Radcliffe, Rupert Grint, Emma Watson, Sir Michael Gambon, Jim Broadbent, Alan Rickman, Tom Felton, Helena Bonham Carter. Rated PG (scary images, some violence, language and mild sensuality). Running time: 153 minutes.

3 stars (out of four)

"No time for dancing, or lovey dovey. I ain't got time for that now."

So sings David Byrne of “Life During Wartime.” Screenwriter Steve Kloves and director David Yates however find considerable room for lovey dovey in the The Half-Blood Prince, an often lighthearted adaptation of J.K. Rowling’s sixth novel. The war between the Dark Lord and his resistors is just kicking into gear, but try telling that to the burgeoning hormones of a bunch of sixteen-year-olds.

The film opens darkly with the naysayers of the last film conceding that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has indeed returned and, along with his entourage, the Death Eaters, is wreaking havoc on both the wizarding and Muggle world. Life continues though and Harry, Ron and Hermione (Daniel Radcliffe, Rupert Grint and Emma Watson, respectively) return to Hogwarts to find an increase in security and a decrease in smiles. Meanwhile Dumbledore (Sir Michael Gambon) has been taking mysterious leaves of absence and Draco Malfoy (Tom Felton) may or may not be serving the Dark Lord. There’s also a new professor inclined towards favoritism, Horace Slughorn, played with great humor by Jim Broadbent. As with most of the supporting roles in the Potter series, Broadbent’s performance is one of the film’s strengths, adding several laughs and bringing to life the easily excitable Potions teacher with something to hide. But all mysteries aside, the biggest changes going on in the lives of our heroes are the internal ones, and the romantic subplots often upstage the main storyline, remaining true to the snogfest of the book.

Like each of the Potter films after the first two, The Half-Blood Prince features heavy editing of its source material. The politics of the wizarding world, which were prominent in the last film, are gone, and many characters’ roles have been reduced or removed entirely (most regrettably, the begrudging house elf Kreacher who I understand is to return again in the next installment). All but two of the Voldemort flashbacks, which made up the dominant thread in the novel, have been cut and the climactic ending has been altered to include less action. There is however a new scene involving a thrilling chase through tall grass that punches up the film’s midsection.

Despite these deviations, The Half-Blood Prince is an improvement on Order of the Phoenix, which excised so many storylines from Rowling’s sprawling novel it felt far removed from the magic of the beloved castle. Each Potter film thus far has struggled, to varying degrees of success, to capture onscreen what makes the books so enjoyable, but always lacks Rowling’s sense of limitless invention. They remain, as blockbusters must, plot-oriented, and while they retain the overall outline of the books, they cut Rowling’s doodles in the margins, her embellishments that bring this fictional world to life.

This remains an entertaining film however, and remains true to the tone of the sixth novel, balancing the darkness of an impending war with adolescent angst. More so than other films of the series, The Half-Blood Prince strives to recreate at least some of Rowling’s magic on the page with visual flourishes and some truly funny moments. This ain’t no party, and this ain’t no disco, but we’ve got time to fool around a little before the two-part Deathly Hallows sobers things up.

- Steve Avigliano, 7/28/09

REVIEW: Moon

Moon (2009): Dir. Duncan Jones. Written by: Duncan Jones, Nathan Parker. Starring: Sam Rockwell, Kevin Spacey (voice). Rated R (language). Running time: 97 min.

3 ½ stars (out of four)

Forty years after 2001 (not the year), there’s been a huge improvement in the personalities of our artificially intelligent companions. Gone are those pesky HAL 9000 models with their sinister plotting! Meet Gerty, a decidedly more amiable creation with the friendly voice of Kevin Spacey (apologies to the original Douglas Rain), whose only interest is to help you as best it can. Gerty’s look and polite syntax are of course a winking tribute to the former machine, giving a courteous nod to that grandfather of all science-fiction films, one of Moon’s main inspirations.

In the near future, the Moon is being used to harvest helium-3, Earth’s new primary source of energy. With the memory of an energy crisis still fresh in the public’s memory, a corporation called Lunar has built a mining station on the dark side of the moon that needs only one man to operate it in three-year shifts. Sam Bell (Sam Rockwell) walks around his workstation that doubles as his living quarters with a familiarity born of repetition. Due to technical problems with the station’s transmission, he must send and receive recorded video messages to his wife and children, and there’s and occasional encouraging message from corporate. For the most part though, he has only Gerty to talk to, its small screen displaying various smiley faces depending on the tone it wishes to convey. With only two weeks left in his term, Sam’s routine is interrupted by an accident on a rover that knocks him unconscious. He awakens to find not only lapses in his memory, but second Sam Bell. Cue head spinning.

Sam Rockwell, who has been stealing scenes in quirky supporting roles for years, plays the role with energy and convincing humanity. Given the chance to stretch in a film featuring virtually no other actors, Rockwell brings humor to an otherwise foreboding film and captures the idiosyncrasies of man in prolonged isolation. With the help of seamless trick photography, we’re able to watch Rockwell interact with himself without ever doubting the credibility of his performance or the premise of the film.

Moon is science fiction built on suspense, mystery and imagination (as opposed to battling robots or the Starship Enterprise). Aside from the initial comparisons to Stanley Kubrick’s now classic philosophy-over-science film, Moon bears similarities to more recent science fiction, namely television’s Lost. The two share an affinity for mysteries that unravel backwards and hidden clues (there’s even a secret hatch here!), and I would be surprised if director Duncan Jones were not a fan of the series. The mark of other sci-fi influences is in the look of the film. The mining station lacks the sleek feel of an idealized future, but rather features more industrial technology first seen in films like Ridley Scott’s Alien (no surprise considering Alien’s set designer was hired to work on this film). Throw in a haunting musical score and it all adds up to a darker vision of our imminent space age. Behind the Lunar Corporation’s promise of a better tomorrow is man pushing buttons and talking himself (figuratively and literally) in a station that could use a few repairs.

The directorial debut of commercial director Duncan Jones, son of David Bowie (I’ll avoid the “Starman” jokes”), Moon is an exciting film that acknowledges those that came before it while paving its own thought-provoking mythology. By the time the end credits roll, there are a few loopholes left unanswered, but the film remains a superb example of the best science fiction has to offer. This is Ground Control to Jones’s career: 3…2…1…Lift off! (Sorry, I couldn’t resist.)

- Steve Avigliano, 7/13/09

REVIEW: Brüno

Brüno (2009): Dir. Larry Charles. Written by: Sacha Baron Cohen, Anthony Hines, Dan Mazer, Jeff Schaffer. Starring: Sacha Baron Cohen, Gustaf Hammarsten. Rated R (pervasive strong and crude sexual content, graphic nudity and language). Running time: 82 minutes.

3 stars (out of four)

If the nude wrestling scene was Borat’s most outrageous moment, then Brüno out-does it once… twice… too many times to count. Brüno takes the absurd gags from Borat or Da Ali G Show and escalates them as far as an R rating will allow.

Most importantly though, Brüno is consistently hilarious, aided tremendously by economical editing, which brings the film to a scant 83 minutes (Judd Apatow, take note!) Considering the many hours that must have been filmed for Brüno’s pranks, Sacha Baron Cohen and director Larry Charles (Borat, Seinfeld) have wisely whittled the film down to its best moments. As a result, virtually no joke in the film falls flat, and each moment scores at least a chuckle, with plenty of laugh-out-loud moments to spare. Highlights include a failed television pilot featuring a talking penis (arguably the film’s biggest laugh) and an attempt to heal conflict in the Middle East over hummus.

Comparisons to Borat are inevitable, but entirely warranted considering the two films’ similarities in content and style. Brüno follows the same general outline of Borat, taking its title character (a gay fashionista and former host of Austria’s Funkyzeit mit Brüno) on a road-trip across America with a companion (this time, the straight-faced Gustaf Hammarsten) to punk average citizens and celebrities alike with increasingly absurd and inspired pranks. There’s another appearance on daytime television and Brüno even borrows Borat’s faux-dramatic storyline, with the breakup of Brüno and Hammarsten resembling the fight between Borat and Azamat.

Brüno’s ultimate goal however, differs slightly from Borat’s. The easy analogy to make is that if Borat skewered America’s racial intolerance, then Brüno does the same for homophobia. The film never quite delivers its message as strongly as Borat did though, muddling its intent in earlier scenes that lampoon the fashion industry (although there are some fine moments here as well). By the time we reach the final cameo-laden “charity song” over the end credits, Cohen & Co. drive home their moral a little too hard – Elton John singing “Let’s stop our fighting” feels too obvious even if he’s not specifically singing about homophobia.

Brüno is also a more divisive character than Cohen’s other incarnations. Where our Kazakh friend gleefully disguised himself as a racist for satire, Brüno pokes and prods to incite a reaction. Even in his least politically motivated pranks, his goal is to shock more than anything else. His least shocking moments are his finest, such as his quest to convert to heterosexuality by taking an unconventional karate lesson and attempting masculine conversation during a hunting trip.

Cohen’s strategies might not be as fresh as they were three years ago, but they’re still effective, and his talents as a comedian are kind of fantastiche.

- Steve Avigliano, 7/10/09

REVIEW: Public Enemies

Public Enemies (2009): Dir. Michael Mann. Written by: Ronan Bennett, Ann Biderman, Michael Mann. Based on the book by: Bryan Burrough. Starring: Johnny Depp, Christian Bale, Marion Cotillard. Rated R (gangster violence and some language). Running time: 143 min.

3 stars (out of four)

Truly great action goes a long way to elevating a middling story. In a summer that has already had two giant-robot-movies, director Michael Mann’s emphasis on adrenaline over spectacle is refreshing. That’s not to say the story Public Enemies is a weak one; it merely fails to offer anything new.

John Dillinger, played with class and restraint by Johnny Depp, is a bank robber in the so-called “golden age of bank robberies.” He is a criminal who sees himself as an entertainer: his heists are his performances, and the American people his audience. His impressive criminal record (already well under way at the start of the film) ironically earns him the title, “Public Enemy #1,” but it’s clear from the media attention he receives, the man is nothing short of a celebrity. After being arrested, an impromptu press conference is held at the police station while reporters scramble to ask questions of the cuffed Dillinger. Throughout all of this, Dillinger remains a man of the people, insisting on only taking “the bank’s money” leaving the change and belongings of patrons behind.

The plot treats Dillinger’s crime streak in the 30’s as a standard cat-and-mouse crime film, with Christian Bale as Melvis Pulvis, the newly appointed leader of the FBI’s hunt for Dillinger. However, to label either man as the mouse would be to downplay the competition between the two. Bale (thankfully breaking his grunting speech with an accent somewhere between Southern and Bruce Wayne) is a smart and exacting hunter, with Depp playfully dragging him and the FBI along his trail. The remainder of the film’s heart lies in a standard romance with the beautiful Billie (Marion Cotillard) who Dillinger handpicks out of a club and subsequently woos with his fugitive charm.

Both the romance and the competitive interplay between Depp and Bale however are underdeveloped, and the real meat of Public Enemies is its action. As he did with his last two films (the brilliant Collateral and the stylish but underwhelming Miami Vice), Mann uses handheld cameras to give immediacy to his action scenes, thrusting the viewer into the center of the violence. At times it almost feels as if we’re watching a well-shot episode of Cops. These kinetic sequences are edited with quick cuts, giving brief flashes of images that imprint themselves on your eyelids. Where other films’ attempts to use handheld cameras result in nausea and confusion, Mann skillfully creates some exhilarating moments with a pace worthy of a man who claimed he could rob a bank in a minute forty flat. This modern style works well with the film’s period details, avoiding the tedium that often comes with period pieces.

Public Enemies paints an image of this moment in history as the end of an era. Crime and crime fighting are no longer a gentleman’s game, and both Dillinger and Pulvis find their fields being taken over by more heartless men than them. Dillinger’s Robin Hood persona doesn’t fit with the brutal violence of his peers like Baby Face Nelson (Stephen Graham), and Pulvis is told by J. Edgar Hoover (Billy Crudup) that he’ll need to “take off the white gloves” in order to catch Dillinger.

But the film never truly delivers on these elements of history and character, and we’re left with a half-developed concept of these men and their time. Still, in the hands of Michael Mann it’s hard to complain with the final result. I’ll always be a man who prefers story to action, but damn if I don’t just love the sound of a Tommy gun.

- Steve Avigliano, 7/2/09

Seeing Stars: Why Critics Rate the Way They Do

All critics find their own way to rate a work. Ratings (be they numerical or otherwise) are a convenient and accessible way to get one’s opinions out there, and give some sense of objectivity to an otherwise entirely subjective form of writing. It’s easy to scan a newspaper (I’m sorry, I meant scroll a webpage) and get a quick idea of how good a movie is. Some critics might argue that a rating system lends itself to readers skipping the review and looking only at the stars (admittedly, I’m guilty of this crime), but for those truly interested, a rating can only say so much and instead functions as an “Inquire Within” sign.

Roger Ebert, on numerous occasions has expressed disdain for ratings, despite using a four-star system himself (in addition to creating the most basic of all movie criteria: the Thumbs Up). Ebert argues that, to the reader, equivalent ratings suggest equivalent quality in a film when in fact not all four-star movies are made alike. If, for example, the most recent Francis Ford Coppola film was a disappointment and received 2 stars and the latest Adam Sandler comedy was surprisingly decent (receiving 3 stars), is that suggesting that the latter is of higher merit than the former? Perhaps, but I’m a firm believer in taking each movie for what it is, not holding it to lofty standards.

That being said, I’d like to take a look at the many types of rating systems out there for both film and music (another area of criticism I have some interest in) before settling on my own standards I’ll be using for this blog.

Stars are classic. They’re what I’ve grown accustomed to in both reading and writing film criticism. Since as long as I can recall I’ve always made a quick note in my mind of how many stars a film gets after watching it. It’s a fun way to review things, and there’s just something nice about seeing four stars (or five if that’s your thing) next to the title of a movie I truly admire.

Often this can become problematic however, as it assumes all stars weigh the same. Clearly, the four stars for Casablanca aren’t the same as the four stars for The Dark Knight, right? In reviewing music, this problem arises often. David Bowie, for example released a number of full-score albums in his prime, but he’s still releasing solid music now, so should I compare the new to the old? As obvious as it might seem to do so, I’d avoid the comparison, otherwise no one would listen to his new stuff because it would be viewed as inferior to the old. The music website Pitchfork seems to have a reliable 10-point system that avoids this exact situation. This larger scale offers a wider range to be more specific in one’s quality assessment. Marching to a different tune entirely, I know a guy who runs a rather good music review site by timing the amount of good minutes an album has to create an overall percentage of how much of a record is worth listening to. This is pretty ambitious, and maybe a little crazy, but hey, it works and nobody else is doing it.

There are also the letter grades, as Entertainment Weekly uses for all media reviews, which take genre expectations into account. I know, for example what I’m going to get from a B- comedy or an A horror film.

One of my personal favorite critics, A.O. Scott for The New York Times, uses no rating at all, yet his essays are among the most concise and insightful I’ve ever read. All critics for the Times along with other publications do this as well, and I respect the practice.

The best of all however are the aggregate sites (Rotten Tomatoes, Metacritic). By compiling the average of many different rating systems from professional and significant online reviewers, these sites’ percentages are very insightful and I rarely disagree. It’s been a while since I’ve gone to see a movie I know will be rotten.

For my purposes here, however, I’m going to remain a classicist and use a four-star scale. Below are rough definitions of what these ratings mean but, in the end, it’s the words on the page that truly matter.

4 stars: A perfect, or near-perfect, film that elicits some additional mental or emotional response that pushes it into a category that, in film, is best described as “great.”

3 ½ stars: A perfectly, or near-perfectly, executed film where all aspects (direction, writing, acting, cinematography, etc.) exemplify the highest quality.

3 stars: A good to very good film worth a recommendation, containing some weakness or limitation that goes beyond nitpicking individual scenes.

2 ½ stars: A film that, despite its (possibly many) problems, I feel some level of admiration for. Worth a rental recommendation.

2 stars: A film with as many problems as strengths, with the bad unfortunately outweighing the good.

1 ½ stars: A bad film.

1 star: A bad film that I feel some level of hatred for.

½ star: A bad film that borders on offensive in its lack of respect for its audience.

0 stars: Manos: The Hands of Fate.

- Steve Avigliano, 6/27/09

REVIEW: Away We Go

Away We Go (2009): Dir. Sam Mendes. Written by: Dave Eggers, Vendela Vida. Starring: John Krasinski, Maya Rudolph. Rated R (language and some sexual content). Running time: 98 min.

3 stars (out of four)

After critiquing the American family with satire (American Beauty) and, more recently, tragedy (Revolutionary Road), director Sam Mendes finds himself working within similar thematic territory, this time with a lite-indie comedy. Away We Go centers on a young couple in need of a place to raise a family and call home and, as so many movie-Americans do, they go about their search with a road trip.

The couple is John Krasinski (The Office) and Maya Rudolph (SNL), who lend a great deal of credibility and humanity to their roles. Kudos especially to Mr. Krasinski for not making me think of Jim Halpert once (Ok, maybe once he does that “Jim look”). Together the two create a nice pair, both touching and charming in their intimate and comedic moments, respectively. The heart of the film’s weaknesses however, lies in the supporting performances.

Divided into five parts, each a stop on the trip, the majority of the film has the couple spending time with various friends and relations, which allows a large supporting cast (including Jim Gaffigan and Maggie Gyllenhaal), to flex their comedic muscles. Unfortunately, these scenes too often fall into the territory of caricatures. Mr. Mendes’s own American Beauty was filled with deeply flawed, but always wholly human characters. Their believability and humanity was precisely what allowed the director to critique their lives. Away We Go, however, merely uses its side characters as fodder for snide chuckles as the culturally superior couple judges each city on the basis of how their acquaintances lead their family lives. The film’s most honest moments occur in the Montreal segment, with Chris Messina (Six Feet Under) in particular generating laughs out of an honest portrayal. But what’s Mr. Mendes’s thesis here? Americans are happier in Canada? Were it not for the final tender moments, I’d be inclined to say so.

Still, the film is likable enough on the strength of its leads, and even its more hipper-than-thou moments provide some laughs. It has all the typical charms of a quasi-indie movie from a clever script to a soundtrack made up of songs you’d find on Wes Anderson’s iPod. The film also succeeds completely in its sweeter moments. Moving at a brisk pace, the leads go from disillusionment to contentment in a mere 98 minutes, a short enough runtime that its weaknesses are not as memorable as the fuzzy feelings the final moments create. By the end of the film, we’ve reached Sam Mendes’s true thesis: It’s ok to start an American family, as long as it’s a fun, quirky one.

- Steve Avigliano, 6/26/09

And So It Begins...

This being my first venture into online publication, I thought it appropriate to include an introduction. This blog will be an outlet for all thoughts film-related, including, but not limited to: reviews, lists, essays, news and general musings about what’s going on in film. Reviews will be sporadic, with more regular commentary posted as well.

But with nary a post to its name yet, enough with the introduction! Today I’ll post a review of Sam Mendes’s Away We Go, with an examination of film critics’ rating systems in the following days.

Thanks for reading.

- Steve Avigliano, 6/26/09