Lawyering and the AMPTP

Former corporate lawyer and now screenwriter explains why the Studios seem to be acting, well ... kinda crazy. Strikes are Lawyer Games, the way frolicking in the snow and stringing thin chain across snowmobile paths are Reindeer Games.

Although I think he underestimates the hard-assery of several of the involved executives, it's a good chat about how these things tend to go in the corporate world, and how this one's going to go. In a nutshell: hang tight, don't take a bad deal just because the directors do, and put DVD residuals back on the table. (yeah!)

DVD clipping software bleg

How much more effective would that previous post have been if I could have just tossed up that clip from Miracle? But damn, the only way I can figure out how to grab such footage is to rip the DVD and then just clip it out with editing software. That CAN'T be right. Is there no decent clip-grabber program for DVD play?

Kurt Russell and Hillary Clinton

I won't be hitting the primaries on a regular basis, but one thought occurred to me as I watched Clinton's team of highly trained pros thrash around dealing with the unexpected Obama bounce going into NH.

That moment in Miracle where the American Olympic Hockey team has grabbed a slim lead over the previously unbeatable Russian Team.

Kurt Russel as Herb Brooks, despairing, waiting for the Russians to shut them down ... and he suddenly realizes that the Soviet Team doesn't know what to do when they're behind. Russell, boggled, hoots in amazement that the juggernaut just has no Plan B.

Clinton may well pull it out tomorrow. But this experience has been ... informative.

Also for discussion -- the number of American actors who can string together the performance in Miracle, then Sky High, then Death Proof, can be counted on one hand, and that hand is Kurt frikkin' Russell's.

Bonus -- did you know about Super-delegates? Wow. I thought I hated the Electoral College ...

El Orfanato

We could do worse than a school of Guillermo del Toro influenced film-makers. Lord knows how much psychic damage the Tarantino School did. El Orfanato definitely echoes del Toro's own Devil's Backbone, although Backbone is the better film.

El Orfanato (The Orphanage) gets props for not just fine directing and some super creepiness. but for its really lovely script. Unlike a lot of horror thrillers where the reveal is some random tragedy unspooled at the end of an investigatory chain, the fair-play end (not twist, just end) of the mystery in in El Orfanato is one of those cascading "Oh God I just figured it out" vertigo moments. Blair Witch, if seen in the proper atmosphere, had one of those. The proper atmosphere of course NOT being on a TV screen where you've fast-forwarded through all the talking yokels who are actually laying some pretty cunning pipe, because after all you are a busy movie/tv executive with things to do.

I saw Blair Witch with the Lovely Wife on opening weekend with a packed audience that was very, very into it. The ending worked with alchemical perfection, the audience pulling the elements of the opening out of their memories at almost the precisely correct pacing to both realize what was happening and then, shudderingly, anticipate what was coming next. The movie is one of those that falls without fail into the "That was amazing"/ "No, that was pants" camp among friends. I think it kind of has to. It's a delicate little trick, that flick -- you either miss the sleight of hand and get sucked in, or you laugh when Criss Angel makes the fat tourist disappear under the tablecloth, eventually spiralling down into a nitrous-oxide like paroxysm every time your buddy waggles his hands and stage-whispers "MIND FREEEEEEEAAAAAK!"

You get what I mean. So, in the comments, your recommendations for horror movies to be viewed in The Proper Horror Flick Manner -- past 10 pm, lights off, and no goddam kibbitzing. Exorcist automatically gets the by. I'll toss in Session 9, and again will toss a nod at the not "great" but sure as hell "very fine" Salvage. I promise the Crook Brothers a bottle of Scotch when we cross paths.