Nicole Kidman and Dakota Blue Richards in The Golden Compass

2007 = Cinema Heaven?

Now that the Oscar tornado has left a trail of triumph (Martin Scorsese) and humiliation (Eddie Murphy), let's take a look in the crystal ball to see what potential crowd-pleasers and award winners await us this year. David Fincher's Zodiac gets the ball rolling this Friday, and so far the critics are eating it up.

The Namesake (March 9): Hit-and-miss director Mira Nair (Monsoon Wedding, Vanity Fair) adapts Jhumpa Lahiri's powerful family drama about a young man who breaks away from his Indian family's traditions. Rising star Kal Penn stars as Gogol.

The Nanny Diaries (April 20): I never had any desire to read the bestselling book, but the film intrigues me because it's directed by Shari Springer Berman and Robert Pulcini, the team that brought us the incredible American Splendor. The ubiquitous Scarlett Johansson leads the cast.

Spider-Man 3 (May 4): This summer's blockbuster lineup includes the fifth Harry Potter installment and Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End. Given the high quality and sheer geeky fun of the first two Spider-Man movies, I'm putting my money on Peter Parker.

Atonement (August 31): Joe Wright, who directed the lukewarm 2005 adaptation of Pride and Prejudice, takes on the challenging novel by British master Ian McEwan. The bad news is that Wright has once again chosen the dismal Keira Knightly as his lead actress. Hopefully supporting actors James McAvoy (The Last King of Scotland) and Vanessa Redgrave can make up for the shortcomings of Anorexia Annie.

Stop Loss (October 7): After wowing the world with Boys Don't Cry in 1999, indie director Kimberly Peirce vanished from the film scene. Now she's back in action with this tale about an American soldier who decides not to return to his tour of duty in Iraq after his leave in Texas.

Beowulf (November 16): This is one of the coolest monster stories ever, but director Robert Zemeckis has been in a creative slump for a decade. Even if it's not a knockout, it's hard to imagine that the battles between Beowulf and Grendel's mother won't be a blast.

The Golden Compass (December 7): I'm a big fan of Phillip Pullman's His Dark Materials fantasy trilogy, which consists of The Golden Compass, The Subtle Knife and The Amber Spyglass. Despite the inspired casting of Nicole Kidman and Daniel Craig in lead roles, I'm concerned that director Chris Weitz (About a Boy, American Pie) might not have enough experience to pull off such a huge and sophisticated spectacle.

I'm Not There (Premieres at Cannes in May, U.S. release date unknown): Todd Haynes follows the beloved Far From Heaven with this experimental inquiry into the life of Bob Dylan. No less than seven actors portray the legendary singer/songwriter, with a stab at transvestitism by Cate Blanchett.

*All release dates are subject to change

In Marty We Trust

The Departed isn't Martin Scorsese's best movie by a long shot, but who gives a rip. Amid the tedium of the four hour ceremony it was a pleasure to see him receive the Academy honors that have eluded him for over thirty years. Did anyone else catch Clint Eastwood yawning during Marty's speech?

I can't remember a year where I felt so indifferent during the Best Picture announcement. The Queen was my first choice, but I knew from the polls that it didn't stand a chance. Usually Best Picture goes to a film that wins one of the screenplay awards, so I figured Little Miss Thang might squeak through and join the legions of mediocre movies that have won top honors. At least The Departed is a couple of notches above mediocre, but I doubt anyone will be talking about it five years from now.

For the most part I thought Ellen was a charming host, even though her opening monologue wobbled. The producers could have easily sliced a half hour off the ordeal by canning the lame Will Ferrell/Jack Black routine and the interesting but completely irrelevant "images of America" montage.

The awards went pretty much as expected, with the exception of Alan Arkin's upset victory in the Best Supporting Actor department. I'm not a fan of Dreamgirls and wanted its trophy haul kept to a minimum. The award should have gone to Little Children's Jackie Earle Haley, but Arkin's victory was just fine (even though he's played that same role a hundred times and could have done it in his sleep).

Southern Discomfort

Black Snake Moan

Grade: C

A nymphomaniacal sex abuse survivor (Christina Ricci) gets thrown out of a truck one night by a redneck. The next morning a blues musician/farmer (Samuel L. Jackson) finds her lying half-naked in the road and, after minimal deliberation, decides to chain her to his radiator to cleanse her of her wicked ways. Depending on your point of view, Craig Brewer's follow-up to his hit film Hustle & Flow is either a harmless guilty pleasure or a big ol' slice of Southern fried horseshit with toxic traces of misanthropy and misogyny. Suffice it to say that I won't eat here again any time soon.

Jackson takes his role and runs with it despite the limitations of the hammy script. But Ricci - despite some impressive emissions of rage - fails to strike a convincing balance between Girl Gone Wild and Little Girl Lost. In case you're wondering, Justin Timberlake sucks big time as Ricci's anxiety-ridden beau.

Opens nationwide on March 2.

THREE FOR THREE

After a brief post-holiday dry spell where nothing at the record store interested me, a geyser of CDs by some of my favorite artists has brought my stereo and my iPod to the verge of spontaneous combustion. Since I wasn't wild about the previous albums by Lucinda Williams and Patty Griffin (World Without Tears & Impossible Dream, respectively), I kept my fingers crossed that both ladies would come back to their senses. In Lucinda's case, my dreams definitely came true. Instead of trying to act (unconvincingly) like a 20-year-old punk like she did on her last CD, she returns to form with the wise lyrics, raspy vocals and haunting melodies that are her trademark. I'm a little wary about interpreting Lucinda's words because I once interviewed her and, in my article, unwittingly perpetuated the widely circulated myth that "Sweet Old World" is about her brother's suicide. Ooops. But I will say that, from everything I've read, her main themes on West are the death of her mother ("Mama You Sweet") and a nasty breakup.

When I first listened to Griffin's Children Running Through I drew comparisons to the lukewarm Impossible Dream and feared that she had strayed even further from the raw emotional power that fueled Living With Ghosts, Flaming Red and most of 1000 Kisses. Over the past two weeks, though, I've listened more carefully and discovered that Children exhibits her nervy acoustic chops to a satisfying - if not mindblowing - extent. "No Bad News" and "Someone Else's Tomorrow" are my favorite tracks so far.

Finally we come to Ms. Enigmatic herself, Rickie Lee Jones. In recent years she's recorded a delicious album of cover songs, and the jazz-inflected The Evening of My Best Day (which, by the way, contains a great protest song against the Patriot Act). On her latest, The Sermon on Exposition Boulevard, she combines fuzzy electric guitars and mystical lyrics to make a religious statement that escapes my comprehension in a big way. I love the sound of it though, which, I suppose, goes a long way in these godless times.

The Method
Grade: B-

This 2005 Spanish film by director Marcelo Piñeyro starts off as a biting satire of corporate greed and then inexplicably morphs into a screwball comedy that isn’t particularly funny. While an anti-globalization protest rages in the streets of Madrid, five men and two women match wits in a series of mind games that determine who gets a job.
The acting is solid, and the crafty cinematography makes the most of the drab office setting. It’s a shame that Piñeyro abandons the menacing tone of the first hour for a silly and heavy-handed conclusion.

SCAREDYCAT

This short documentary by Portland filmmaker Andrew Blubaugh screens during the SHORT CUTS III: MADE IN PORTLAND program at the 30th Portland International Film Festival.Visit http://www.nwfilm.org/archives/piff/30/ for showtimes and venue.

Scaredycat
Grade: B+

The 30th Portland International Film Festival includes four programs of short films, including nine entries from Portland filmmakers. One of the highlights is Scaredycat, a 13-minute documentary by gay director Andrew Blubaugh (Hello, Thanks). One night in September 2004, a gang of five men attacked Blubaugh as he crossed the Steel Bridge. Though impaired by fear, some racial prejudice and a lifelong bout with obsessive-compulsive disorder, he contacted his assailants in jail to try to make sense of the situation. Even with the expert input of a Portland lawyer and a PSU psychology professor, some of the findings are a little simplistic. Still, the skillful combination of interviews, dramatic reenactments and animated sequences makes for compelling viewing.

THE HOST

Here's another dispatch from the press screening stage of the 30th Portland International Film Festival (the fest officially opens on Friday, February 9). Today I saw a hugely entertaining horror/comedy film from South Korea. Don't sweat it if you don't catch it on the festival circuit because Magnolia Pictures will kick off a limited distribution on March 9.

The Host
Grade: A

If you only see one movie this year about a huge river monster that comes on land to devour people, make it this thrilling and inventive import from South Korea. A cheeky critique of U.S. environmental policies, it shows how the ferocious mutant owes its life to a U.S. Army base that dumped dusty bottles of formaldehyde down the drain. Director Jooh-ho Bong strikes a perfect balance between scares and laughs, drawing inspiration from legitimate horror classics like Alien and schlocky B-movies like The Blob.

To see the trailer for The Host & explore the website visit: http://www.hostmovie.com/

The Five Faces of Steve

Happy Birthday to me! I'm turning the big 3-3 today, and I've decided to celebrate the occasion with a photo collage dedicated exclusively to myself.