Netflix CEO Reed Hastings has heretofore not acknowledged the Insties as a major reason for the popularity of the company's streaming service.

The ceiling over the Culture Blues auditorium opens up and a shower of hand-shredded red Netflix envelope ticker-tape descends. Netflix CEO Reed Hastings, given a seat of honor in the front row, catches a piece on his tongue. Fans wave their sponsored red towels over their heads, chanting “queue it up! queue it up!” And also, this is made up.

Jeff Hart:  Welcome to the 2^nd Annual Insty Awards, where we celebrate the most remarkable films from the last year of The Instant Movie Club.

Jeremiah White:  Today's ceremony is brought to you in part by Qwikster. Coming to you soon wherever bad ideas are still available.

Jeff Hart:   I’m happy to say that this year’s field of Instant Movie Club selections was an extremely competitive one. Some philistines out there might wonder how we can build an awards show around a mere 50 movies that we selected with a minimum of forethought over the last year. Isn’t it capricious and arbitrary to choose from such a small selection of the massive Netflix streaming library?

Jeremiah White:  Welcome to the world of award shows and the internet.

Jeff Hart:  Exactly. Anyway, let’s hand out some highly prestigious fake awards.

Jeremiah White:  The Supporting Actress field features our first two-time nominee, Melissa Leo, who lost out to critical darling Tilda Swinton in last year’s Best Actress field. Will the second time be the charm for Leo? The nominees are:

Best Supporting Actress
Neve Campbell, Panic
Melissa Leo, Red State
Liana Liberato, Trust
Liza Minnelli, Arthur
Claire Sloma, Myth of the American Sleepover

Jeremiah White:  And the winner is… Liana Liberato!

A typically emotional response from an Insty winner.

Jeff Hart:  Melissa Leo goes 0-2, while Liberato takes home the prize for her nuanced and heartbreaking portrayal of a teen preyed on by an online predator.

Jeremiah White:  Despite such heavy subject matter, Liberato avoids histrionics and expertly portrays a vulnerable and confused young woman doing her best to make sense of the unthinkable.

Jeff Hart:  Next up, Best Supporting Actor!

Best Supporting Actor
Ted Beck, All American Orgy
David Dorfman, Panic
Colin Farrell, The Way Back
Tim Roth, The Hit
Vince Vieluf, The Immaculate Conception of Little Dizzle

Jeremiah White:  I love that David Dorfman was nominated here.

Jeff Hart:  I know. If there was a category for Best Child, I would give that award to David Dorfman every year. We’d run out of Dorfman movies.

Jeremiah White:  But he’s not going to win.

Jeff Hart:  No, sorry. The Insty goes to Tim Roth for his role as an overeager and majorly unhinged assassin in The Hit. It’s Roth’s big screen debut so, just like Dorfman, he’s just a baby! A baby with no problem breaking a bottle across the face of some Eurotrash.

"What's an Insty, love?"

Best Couple
Ginger & Barry, Barry Munday
Kyung-chul & Soo-hyun, I Saw the Devil
Linda & Arthur, Arthur
Maria & Matthew, Trust
Tucker & Dale, Tucker and Dale vs. Evil

Jeff Hart:  Tucker and Dale are such a strong pairing that their couple-hood even features in the name of their film.

Jeremiah White:  I don’t know that they really work well as a couple, though. The title should really be Dale Takes a Journey of Self Discovery, Sometimes Hangs Out With Tucker.

Jeff Hart:  Too long. Anyway, if we look at Best Couple from the perspective of ‘hey, which of these characters really complement each other?’ then I would give it to the pair from Trust. They’re freaking adorable.

Jeremiah White:  But what about a couple that brings out the worst in each other?

Jeff Hart:  Now that, my friend, is truly rare. Which is why the Insty goes to those two psychos from I Saw the Devil for playing out their perverse game of serial killer cat-and-mouse.

Jeremiah White:  Why don’t you two just admit that you’re in love with each other?

They're sort of a dysfunctional couple.

Jeremiah White:  The Insties are nothing if not a groundbreaking awards show concept. In the past, non-human performers have been honored right alongside their Homo sapien counterparts. The innovation continues this year with the first non-animal nominee. The murderous rubber tire from Rubber joins a mercenary, a samurai, a master martial artist and a hobo with a shotgun. Here are your nominees for Biggest Badass:

Biggest Badass
Barney Ross, The Expendables
Hirayama, 13 Assassins
The Hobo, Hobo With a Shotgun
The Tire, Rubber
Yuda, Merantau

Jeremiah White:  And the Insty goes to… Yuda. Throughout the course of Merantau, Yuda brutalizes gang members in countless innovative ways.

Give that man his Insty.

Jeff Hart:  His dominance is not only a testament to actor Iko Uwais’ skills, but also the exemplary stuntwork on display. None of the other nominees were as consistently badass as Yuda stoically punching, kicking and judo-tossing his way through an army of thugs.

Jeremiah White:  This marks the second year in a row when a martial artist known for battling multiple opponents at once has taken home Biggest Badass.

Jeff Hart:  Let's give out the Insty for Best Actress which, if you ask me, is a real two-woman race.

Best Actress
Lena Dunham, Tiny Furniture
Judy Greer, Barry Munday
Chloe Moretz, Let Me In
Adrienne Shelley, Trust
Michele Williams, Wendy & Lucy

Jeremiah White:  Greer, Moretz, and Shelley turn in solid performances, but they aren’t pantheon level like Williams and Dunham.

Jeff Hart:  With Dunham vs. Williams, we get into the issue of comparing comedy to drama. It’s not easy. Williams turns in a quiet and heartbreaking performance, whereas Dunham’s performance is loud but also startlingly open. It’s a close one, but the Insty goes to Dunham!

Jeremiah White:  Finally, comedy triumphs over drama.

Try to contain your excitement, Ms. Dunham.

Jeremiah White:  Last year, Patton Oswalt won our next award for his performance in Big Fan, a clear indication that the Insty committee is willing reward outstanding performances found in unexpected places. Will that tradition continue? This year’s field features highly divisive performances as well as some universally lauded ones. Here are the nominees for Best Actor:

Best Actor
Anthony Mackie, Night Catches Us
Joaquin Phoenix, I’m Still Here
Adam Scott, The Vicious Kind
Terrence Stamp, The Hit
Patrick Wilson, Barry Munday

Jeremiah White:  And the winner is… Joaquin Phoenix. Casey Affleck’s hoax-umentary seemed to have fans and detractors in equal measure. While the specifics of what is real and what is not, and if such questions are important in the consideration of art, will lead to speculation and debate for years to come, one thing that’s impossible to deny is that Joaquin Phoenix committed to the role of Joaquin Phoenix with everything he had.

Jeff Hart:  He put his public image, his career, and possibly a bit of his sanity on the line. As far as the IMC is concerned, he won big.

Enjoying a celebratory smoke.

Jeremiah White:  Let's take a break from honoring movies and performances we actually liked this year and look at the films that should disappear from Netflix Instant and the world in general. Your nominees for Worst Picture:

Worst Picture
Hobo With a Shotgun
Limitless
Passion Play
Trespass
White Irish Drinkers

Jeff Hart:  Those are some truly terrible films. I wish they all could win.

Jeremiah White:  I’m going to let Hobo With a Shotgun and Trespass off the hook because, on some level, I think they understand their own limitations. They’re not necessarily bad on purpose, but they’re certainly not trying to be good.

Jeff Hart:  White Irish Drinkers is a misfire on almost every conceivable level, but it’s more forgettable than it is outright heinous.

Jeremiah White:  Which leaves Passion Play and Limitless.

Jeff Hart:  I’m disturbed to live in a world where an insidious piece of shit like frat-fantasy-wealth-porn-capitalist-handjob Limitless can have a 59 on Metacritic. It should have a 0. Fuck that movie, it’s the worst.

Discussing how to make a truly reprehensible movie.

Jeremiah White:  Two unknowns, Andrew Gurland and Huck Botko, hoisted last year’s Best Director Insty for Mail Order Wife. History will likely not repeat itself as this year’s field is dominated by well known names. The nominees are:

Best Director
Casey Affleck, I’m Still Here
Darren Aronofsky, The Fountain
Francis Ford Coppola, Tetro
Kelly Reichardt, Wendy & Lucy
David Russo, The Immaculate Conception of Little Dizzle

Jeremiah White:  And the winner is… David Russo!

The road to Insty glory is paved with neon blue butt fish.

Jeff Hart:  The no-name domination of the Best Director category continues.

Jeremiah White:  While all of these directors brought a unique vision to the screen, none juggled disparate elements more so effortlessly. Little Dizzle mixes the familiar with the boldly experimental to create a cohesive, funny, thought-provoking and undeniably one-of-a-kind cocktail.

Jeff Hart:  Let's get to the big one! The Insty for Best Picture.

Jeremiah White:  A really strong field this year. Perhaps the strongest in Insty history.

Best Picture
The Hit
I’m Still Here
Tiny Furniture
Toy Story 3
Wendy & Lucy

Jeff Hart:  These are all exceptional films that everyone with a Netflix account should sit down and watch as soon as possible. However, only one of them really encapsulates the idea of The Instant Movie Club, where we find these hidden indie gems or movies that were unfairly ignored when they were originally released. That movie is I’m Still Here.

"And now, I rap."

Jeff Hart:  I remain convinced that Casey Affleck’s mockumentary turned documentary is one of the best critiques of modern celebrity in existence. Over time, it will be remembered as something truly special.

Jeremiah White:  It was all worth it, Joaquin! A pair of Insties!

Jeff Hart:  His career is officially back on track.

Next week, the race for the 3rd Annual Insties begins! The Instant Movie Club checks out If A Tree Falls, a documentary about supposed environmental terrorists the Earth Liberation Front. It's nominated for Best Documentary at this year's Oscars. 

On his way to the Insty Awards!

The editors of Culture Blues, Jeff Hart and Jeremiah White, are proud to announce this year’s field for the 2^nd Annual Insty Awards. The Insties celebrate a year of achievements in The Instant Movie Club by doling out arbitrary awards to a small selection of films that were pretty much randomly selected based on what movies the editors felt like writing about on any given week.

“Where else but The Insties could I find myself up against luminaries like Francis Ford Coppola and Darren Aronofsky?” asked Best Director nominee David Russo, whose film The Immaculate Conception of Little Dizzle is nominated for a pair of Insties.

Steven Spielberg, director of Close Encounters of the Third Kind, did not respond to requests for comment on his Insty snub.

Whereas last year’s Insty Awards saw Mail Order Wife score a record six nominations (although only one win), no single film distinguished itself this year. Four films – I’m Still Here, The Hit, Barry Munday, and Wendy & Lucy – lead the pack with three nominations each.

Melissa Leo, a best Supporting Actress nominee for her role in Red State, became the first person to receive two Insty nominations in consecutive years.

“What the fuck is an Insty?” asked Leo, before stubbing out her menthol cigarette and slamming the door of her lakefront trailer.

The 2^nd Annual Insty Awards will be held on Monday, February 6^th.

Becoming an Insty icon.

Best Picture
The Hit
I’m Still Here
Tiny Furniture
Toy Story 3
Wendy & Lucy

Best Director
Casey Affleck, I’m Still Here
Darren Aronofsky, The Fountain
Francis Ford Coppola, Tetro
Kelly Reichardt, Wendy & Lucy
David Russo, The Immaculate Conception of Little Dizzle

Best Actor
Anthony Mackie, Night Catches Us
Joaquin Phoenix, I’m Still Here
Adam Scott, The Vicious Kind
Terrence Stamp, The Hit
Patrick Wilson, Barry Munday

Best Actress
Lena Dunham, Tiny Furniture
Judy Greer, Barry Munday
Chloe Moretz, Let Me In
Adrienne Shelley, Trust (the romantic one, not the one about pedophiles)
Michele Williams, Wendy & Lucy

Best Supporting Actor
Ted Beck, All American Orgy
David Dorfman, Panic
Colin Farrell, The Way Back
Tim Roth, The Hit
Vince Vieluf, The Immaculate Conception of Little Dizzle

Best Supporting Actress
Neve Campbell, Panic
Melissa Leo, Red State
Liana Liberato, Trust (the one about pedophiles)
Liza Minnelli, Arthur
Claire Sloma, Myth of the American Sleepover

Biggest Badass
Barney Ross, The Expendables
Hirayama, 13 Assassins
The Hobo, Hobo With a Shotgun
The Tire, Rubber
Yuda, Merantau

Best Couple
Ginger & Barry, Barry Munday
Kyung-chul & Soo-hyun, I Saw the Devil
Linda & Arthur, Arthur
Maria & Matthew, Trust (the romantic one)
Tucker & Dale, Tucker and Dale vs. Evil

Worst Picture
Hobo With a Shotgun
Limitless
Passion Play
Trespass
White Irish Drinkers

This week we’re watching The Immaculate Conception of Little Dizzle, about a team of night janitors who become the unwitting subjects of an experiment with mind-bending cookies.

Next week:  The 2nd Annual Insties!

SPOILERS BELOW!

How would you rate the weirdness of The Immaculate Conception of Little Dizzle?

Jeremiah White:  It’s extremely weird. The title, the bizarre side effects of eating highly addictive, chemically enhanced cookies, and the frequent trippy animation sequences are enough to separate Little Dizzle from most movies. The thing that makes it most unique, however, is that all this experimental spirit is balanced by a familiar, lucid narrative and some hallmarks of the dreaded mainstream. It’s an art house movie for everybody. Dory’s discovery of meaning in his janitor job and his new coworkers could take place in anything from a studio comedy to Oscar bait. Vince Vieluf’s catchphrase-friendly janitor/philosopher would be a hit with a much larger audience than just people who look for strange little indies on Netflix Instant. For all its psychedelic craziness, Dizzle eschews the opaqueness and ambiguity of its “weird movie” brethren in favor of accessibility. People will leave it savoring the characters and moments, allowing the themes and symbols to settle in, rather than trying to “figure it out.” That’s extremely unexpected from a movie in which men defecate luminous blue fish.

Jeff Hart:  It’s definitely a credit to Little Dizzle that the weirdness never overwhelms the narrative. However, I’m not as confident as Jeremiah that the film would appeal to an audience larger than us Netflix indie trawlers. Ignoring the bombardment of trippy and unsettling imagery, not to mention the fluorescent butt-fish, this is still a film about characters very much inhabiting the fringes of society. I don’t think Dory and his crew of fellow janitors would be particularly sympathetic to a mainstream audience. They don’t have to be. Little Dizzle is a film for the open-minded and experimental amongst us. It tells a compelling and effecting story with a dark sense of humor and visual flair to spare. It’s extremely weird, maybe even a little alienating, but it’s also a total success.

What does writer/director David Russo have to say about organized religion?

Jeremiah White:  Religion is a frequent and easy target for filmmakers. Little Dizzle takes a few predictable shots at religion (the slick televangelist, the horrible girl that Dory goes off on at the beginning having Jesus hanging up in her cubicle). But overall, Russo seems less interested in disparaging religion than he is in deflating it. Dory’s rapid-fire test-drives of the major religions is a search for meaning. He doesn’t talk about his experiences, and we only see glimpses, but there is no indication that he finds anything sinister or even particularly distasteful about them. They just don’t feel right. The fact that Dory finds the meaning he is looking for in his job as a night janitor could be viewed as a slight against religion, but I view it as a reflection of Dory’s character. In Little Dizzle, religion isn’t a spiritual calling or a way of life, it’s just another hobby.

Jeff Hart:  Although Russo certainly makes light of nearly every organized religion in existence, I didn’t view Dory’s spiritual sampling to be a critique. Dory’s a lonely young man groping not just for meaning in life, but for a source of human kindness. All religions ostensibly preach to love one another, which is all Dory seems to want from the world, but after every brief conversion he finds the people around him unchanged. When he finally ends up rocking his Nietzsche inspired “God is Dead” shirt, it’s both comical and tragic. It’s no coincidence that his butt-fish comes soon after.

Daddies.

What about corporate America? What does Russo have to say about that?

Jeff Hart:  Russo might avoid criticizing organized religion, but the same certainly can’t be said about corporations. At best, working in an office is portrayed as the kind of soul-crushing life-waster that causes otherwise normal young men to jump up and down on their cube-mate’s cell phones. Dory’s rant about phones breaking apart the brotherhood of man can be broadened into a charge against all corporate culture. The idea that a cookie company can operate in such an insidious fashion, toying with our bodies without repercussion – I’m particularly fond of when Dory begins hallucinating ingredients like high fructose corn syrup on his shower walls – could seem screamingly paranoid. And yet, it all had the ring of truth to me. Beware the cookie makers and their gentle acronyms for intestinal parasites.

Jeremiah White:  The “oven fresh” cookies are intended to remind consumers of family and childhood. To make them feel warm, fuzzy and safe. The company is exploiting our fears about the big, scary world out there and our desire for safety and stability. That seems representative of Russo’s feeling about corporate America as a whole. The cookies don’t hold any nostalgic power over Dory, however; his mom never made cookies like this. It’s only the instant gratification and the addictive chemicals that appeal to him. Much like the regular paychecks are all that appeal to him about office work. Dory isn’t a straight shooter with upper management written all over him. He scoffs at the initial offer of janitorial work, but quickly swallows his pride, and ultimately finds more fulfillment cleaning offices than working in them. In Russo’s world, corporate employment is a drug, the effects of which hide its true ugly, artificial nature.

What would you do if you gave butt-birth to a Little Dizzle?

Jeff Hart:  Start working on a Little Dizzle sibling. Don’t want the little guy to be lonely.

Jeremiah White:  I'd flush it down the toilet. I don't hold onto anything that comes out of my butt.

This week we’re watching Tiny Furniture, the indie debut of writer/director/actor Lena Dunham, which was good enough to score her an upcoming Judd Apatow-produced TV series on HBO.

Next week:   The Immaculate Conception of Little Dizzle – A team of night janitors become the unwitting subjects of an experiment with mind-bending cookies. Also, there might be talking poop.

SPOILERS BELOW!

After watching Tiny Furniture, are you more or less interested in Lena Dunham’s upcoming HBO series Girls?

Jeff Hart:  More interested! Tiny Furniture is really funny – way funnier than most of the films that get slapped with the “mumblecore” label. It ends very abruptly, as these arty slice-of-life-crisis movies tend to do, and I was left wanting more. I think Dunham’s comedy, her characters (many of which appear to be making the jump from film to TV), and her storytelling are better suited to the small screen than the big. Also, it’ll be a nice change of pace from the douchey lifestyle-porn comedies HBO usually relies on.

Jeremiah White:  I agree that it will be a nice change of pace from the "douchey lifestyle-porn comedies," specifically How To Make It In America. Much of Tiny Furniture plays like a more realistic take on the same world as How To Make It. If Girls can tap into that same spirit of twentysomething New Yorkers scraping by at lousy day jobs in between gallery openings and hipster house parties without the gangsters and rags-to-designer-rags contrivances, it could be a lot of fun, and dramatically engaging.

Dunham cast her mother and her sister as her mother and sister respectively, in roles superficially very much like themselves. What effect does this have on the onscreen product?

Jeremiah White: I wasn’t aware they were all related before watching, but Dunham and her family have a chemistry that is evident onscreen. Not necessarily in terms of witty repartee, but in a physical closeness and in the way they effortlessly handle the low-key “make-up” scenes, which nicely counter and neutralize the melodramatic arguments that precede them.

Jeff Hart:  I didn’t realize this was the case until after watching either. In retrospect, it makes the whole Tiny Furniture experience creepily voyeuristic. Also, if you’re making a no-budget indie, it must be really helpful if you can rely on your real life mom and sister to deliver smart and naturalistic performances.

Analyze Dunham’s use of long, static shots.

Jeremiah White:  The last time I remember noticing unbroken shots like these was in last year’s Shame. In Steve McQueen’s film they are gimmicky interpretations of individual scenes. They are conspicuous in their plainness and, honestly, seem kind of lazy. But in Tiny Furniture, they are used frequently and help give the film a simple and cohesive visual style. They are inconspicuous and more immersive than that other low-budget staple – the shakycam.

Jeff Hart:  Unlike McQueen, Dunham knows when to call cut on a long take. Honestly, I didn’t really pick up on the long shots during my viewing. Thinking back, one of my favorite scenes, where Dunham’s character throws a tantrum directed at her mom while her sister looks on, is an unbroken take. It definitely adds to the awkwardness and humiliation, stuck there while Dunham loses it.

Just another post-gallery visit to the sex pipe.

You guys are twenty-something New York residents! Did Tiny Furniture have the ring of truth?

Jeff Hart:  Just like the twenty-something malaise movies Judd Apatow’s been working on for the last 10 years, there are feelings and situations in Tiny Furniture that I recognize and sympathize with. That said, unlike Apatow, I don’t think Dunham is trying to speak for an entire generation. Rather, she’s examining – and, I’d argue, sometimes satirizing – a very particular subset: city-raised rich children attracted to the art scene. She sure nails them.

Jeremiah White:  Tiny Furniture spoke more to the 22 year old recently graduated Jeremiah than the New York City Jeremiah. In that sense, it definitely rang true. I agree that Dunham is partially satirizing rich art kids, and as someone who finds those types kind of ridiculous, Tiny Furniture also nicely meshed with my particular point of view.

White American life crisis movies – is it enough already?

Jeremiah White:  Before Tiny Furniture, I would have said “absolutely.” So many movies have been made tackling these age-specific dilemmas, which usually don’t end up feeling very age-specific, that even the good ones can be filed under “more of the same. “ Tiny Furniture isn’t quite enough to completely change my mind, but Dunham’s film separates itself with its female focus, and an atmosphere of confusion more than angst or malaise. It would be a shame to skip Tiny Furniture based on movies that have preceded it, but my interest in the genre hasn’t been renewed.

Jeff Hart:  I think Tiny Furniture separates itself successfully from the white-crisis movies, the twenty-something malaise comedies, and the mumblecore movement. It’s funny, its focus is a bit more narrowed, and Dunham is more pitiless and ruthless (especially with her own body) than directors of these films normally are. She has every opportunity to go precious and yet never does. I agree the film sometimes crosses into tired “wahhh white people” territory, but overall I found Tiny Furniture refreshing and look forward to more.

This week we’re watching Trespass. Nicolas Cage and Nicole Kidman star in this critically derided home invasion thriller. Is it really as bad as everyone seems to think?

Next week:  Tiny Furniture - We check out Lena Dunham's well-regarded indie about twenty-something existential crisis. It's the film that landed Dunham a Judd Apatow produced comedy on HBO, so it has to be good, right?

POSSIBLE SPOILERS (AND NIC CAGE MELTDOWNS) BELOW

Why?

Jeff Hart:  Really good question. So much of Trespass is absolutely baffling. I don’t mean plot-wise – the plot is about as simple as it gets, with plenty of flashbacks to comfort slow viewers that might be confused by the predictable twists. What is baffling is this film’s very existence. Why would Joel Schumacher agree to helm such a generic thriller? I guess probably because he has such a rich history of directing generic thrillers, but still, shouldn’t Schumacher have his pick of shitty scripts? Why would A-listers like Nic Cage and Nicole Kidman (particularly Kidman) sign up? The answer to all those questions, the reason Trespass exists, is money. My theory is that Trespass was financed by some Bernie Madoff type as beat-off material.

Jeremiah White:  Money is the obvious answer. But I think that Cage and lead baddie Ben Mendelsohn relished the opportunity to embrace their crazy sides. What Kidman and Schumacher got out of this? I have no idea.

Home invasion movies like Panic Room rely on a game of schemes and counterschemes. Trespass is considerably less tactile. Discuss the action of Trespass.

Jeremiah White:  I count the relative lack of plot in Trespass as one of its strengths. The bad guys never have much of a plan, and the family doesn’t do much except refuse to play ball. This also isn’t some psychological chess game. I mean, Mendelsohn tries a few different rhetorical strategies to break Cage, but he quickly gives into his fiery temper and Trespass is reduced to a bunch of mentally unstable people yelling at each other. And frankly, that’s when the movie is at its best. Like when Mendelsohn and his brother are arguing about the pills, an argument Mendelsohn ends by mocking his brother’s fake swallowing of the pills, and then throwing them all in his face. You’re just not going to see that in other home invasion movies.

Jeff Hart:  What Trespass wants to do is pit a white-collar master negotiator like Cage against a blue collar, street smart hustler in Mendelsohn. That'd be an interesting idea, I suppose, if white-collar scumbag Cage didn't end up looking like some kind of capitalist martyr. He loves his family, you guys! The class warfare cat-and-mouse was played with 100 times more tact and intelligence in Brett Ratner's Tower Heist. That's right; Trespass compares unfavorably to Brett Ratner. Wrap your head around that. Anyway, like Jeremiah said, Trespass is mostly just psychos yelling at each other. We're probably lucky a lot of the film's themes are buried under all that noise.

Oscar winner Nic Cage

As we’ve come to expect, Nic Cage comes unhinged quite often in Trespass. What was your favorite instance of Cage losing his shit?

Jeff Hart:  I love Cage. Him flipping out never really gets old for me. Trespass gets him frothing at the mouth as quickly as possible, so at least it gets points for that. I particularly enjoyed Cage repeatedly calling his assailants “shitholes,” an insult that isn’t used to describe people nearly often enough. Also good was Cage blaming Kidman’s “filthy lust” for causing the home invasion.

Jeremiah White:  Shitholes got a big laugh from me. “Filthy lust” was actually a bit disappointing. I knew about the line beforehand and I expected a much crazier reading of such a crazy line. My favorite freak-out came early on, when Cage tried to convince them to let his wife go. It includes “You hit the motherload!”, the “Get your people in line” mini pep talk, and “No! No no NO!”

Millennium Films employed an unusual distribution method for Trespass, with a limited theatrical run in major markets, a simultaneous on-demand release, and a DVD in stores less than 3 weeks later. How does this model suit Trespass?

Jeremiah White:  Extremely well. The limited theatrical run is basically just a formality because in 2011, you can’t have a Joel Schumacher movie starring Nic Cage and Nicole Kidman that goes straight to DVD. But Trespass is a B movie with some A list window dressing. It’s made for lazy weekend afternoon viewing, and perfect for on-demand services, Netflix Instant and an inevitable run on TNT. People who paid $12 to see it in theaters were probably disappointed. Those who watch it on the couch largely as a result of boredom will have much lower standards.

Jeff Hart:  Too bad they didn't spend B-movie money on this piece of shit. Courtesy of Box Office Mojo, the budget for Trespass was $35 million. It grossed about $25K in its theatrical run. If you factor in foreign receipts - it did huge business in Brazil for some reason - Trespass is still $30 million shy of breaking even on its budget. There's no way they recouped that through VOD sales. In terms of quality of film, Trespass definitely got the distribution method it deserved. But, assuming Schumacher and company didn't intend to set a bunch of money on fire, I'd consider everything about Trespass, right down to distribution, to be an unmitigated disaster.

This week we’re watching Tucker & Dale vs. Evil. Alan Tudyk and Tyler Labine star as a pair of lovable hillbillies that are mistaken for inbred psycho killers by a group of preppy college kids.

Next week:  Trespass. Nicolas Cage and Nicole Kidman star in this critically derided home invasion thriller. How crazy will Cage get? We’re hoping super-crazy.

SPOILERS BELOW!

Tucker and Dale vs. Evil riffs on horror movies, but is this a movie for horror fans?

Jeremiah White:  Not really, and that’s not just due to a lack of scares or suspense. The deaths are not particularly inventive or gory (at least not in the graphic way that delights many horror fans). The premise is a nice reversal of slasher tradition, but it’s not especially clever. The horror/comedy of errors plot machinations are a novel idea, but they’re never all that convincing or funny, and they’re dropped about halfway through. There just isn’t any love of horror movies evident in Tucker and Dale. And the pat “don’t judge a book by its cover” and “have self-confidence” life lessons feel more like Legally Blonde than Shaun of the Dead. Ultimately, Tucker and Dale is much less self-aware and inside joke-y than one might think based on its winky premise. At least they got one thing right; I guess you really shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.

Jeff Hart:  Are you nuts? Of course it’s a movie for horror fans! Who else could Tucker and Dale possibly appeal to? Not to deride horror fans – they’re my favorite group of genre fans out there – but they’re the only ones that could have the patience necessary to endure the redundant schtick of this film. Granted, I feel like discerning horror fans won’t enjoy Tucker and Dale, but there are definitely points for effort in the horror community. Even though it doesn’t fully succeed at sending up the slasher genre, that doesn’t mean horror fans won’t welcome the attempt.

How do Alan Tudyk and Tyler Labine function as a comedy team?

Jeremiah White:  They’re both capable comedic performers and they wring some laughs out of pretty thin material. The friendship between the slim, smarter, more ambitious Tudyk and the rounder, sensitive, idiot savant Labine is a bit of a cliché, but they make it work. Tudyk and Labine can’t save this project, but the only blame they can really be assigned is attaching themselves to such a lackluster script.

Jeff Hart:  Total nerd-bait, right? Tudyk and Labine are both actors with cult followings, which see some big time overlap with horror fans. I like them both and, like you said, they definitely do their best with the material. We’re sort of trashing Tucker and Dale here, but it isn’t an unendurable experience. It’s short, has some laughs, and is mostly watchable because of the chemistry between its leads. The film is just short on ideas.

Durp!

Let’s play armchair screenwriter. How could Tucker and Dale have been improved?

Jeff Hart:  Like we’ve already complained, the horror-comedy of errors joke gets run into the ground pretty early, peaking right around when that one frat boy does a header into the wood chipper. I kept expecting them to make a transition toward a more traditional slasher flick, with the owner of the creepy summer home returning and forcing our lovable hillbillies to join forces with the annoying college kids. This sort of happens down the stretch when Psycho Frat Boy completely loses it, but by then the rest of the college kids have been completely wiped out. When the film does finally give us a villain that isn’t dumb luck, it briefly regains some momentum with Dale turning himself into “super-hillbilly.” However, just when it seems like the writers are finally going to let loose, they turn the whole uber-Leatherface montage into a throw away punchline, leading to an anticlimactic final fight that hinges on a tea allergy. Basically, they should’ve let loose and had more fun in slasher territory.

Jeremiah White:  I would throw in more direct references to other movies. The idea seems to be that these kids have seen slasher movies (and Deliverance) and therefore expect Tucker and Dale to be dangerous rednecks. There's no need to shy away from the influence pop culture has on them. Similarly, their plans for defeating Tucker and Dale should have been based more on their knowledge of films. They could have set a trap based on a killer's tendency to show up mid-coitus, for example, rather than just charging in with spears. This would put them in danger of treading too much on the "rules" ground that Scream mined so well, but when your whole premise is based on subverting horror conventions, there really isn't any reason to resist making overt references.

Pop Quiz: Provide 3 snarky alternative titles for Tucker and Dale vs. Evil.

Jeremiah White:  Tucker and Dale vs. Largely Accurate Stereotypes.

Tucker and Dale vs. My Patience.

Tucker and Dale vs. A Big Misunderstanding.

Jeff Hart:  Tucker and Dale vs. The Same Joke Over and Over.

Tucker and Dale vs. That Chick From 30 Rock.

Tucker and Dale vs. One Really Smart College Kid With An Understandable Axe To Grind.

This week we’re watching Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives. This celebrated Thai film, hailed as “a modern masterpiece,” follows terminally ill Uncle Boonmee as he reflects on his past lives.

Next week:  Tucker & Dale vs. Evil – Alan Tudyk and Tyler Labine star as a pair of lovable hillbillies that are mistaken for inbred psycho killers by a group of preppy college kids.

It's a Chewbacca.

Empire magazine described the response to Uncle Boonmee winning the Palme d’Or as follows: “’I have seen it twice,’ yawned L’Express’ Eric Libiot. ‘I was bored twice.’ Even president Tim Burton felt the need to justify his choice. ‘The world is more Hollywood-ised,’ he said. ‘This came from another perspective… something you don’t normally see.’ Who is right, Libiot or Burton?

Jeff Hart:  They can both be right. I’m with Libiot when he complains of boredom during Uncle Boonmee. It is boring. The film is long take after dragging long take and, with the notable exception of a very horny catfish, is filled with performances that frequently feel stiff and inhuman. On the other hand, the visuals are dense and often striking. When Uncle Boonmee was finally over, I didn’t feel like I’d wasted two hours. Burton is right that it exposes viewers to a style of film-making and a unique perspective that is rarely seen. Watching Uncle Boonmee is sort of like visiting an art gallery. You take away from the experience what you’re willing to put in. Personally, this is an art gallery where I’d be slugging free wine in the corner and looking at my watch, but it’s difficult not to acknowledge as worthwhile.

Jeremiah White:  I like Jeff’s art gallery analogy, and I definitely think there is room for both Libiot and Burton to be right. I’m not sure that “bored” is the right word to describe how I felt during much of Boonmee, but I wasn’t engaged. I just felt sort of… adrift. I do think that Burton’s vague compliments mirror a collective copout on the part of the critical community. It’s most perfectly crystallized in J. Hoberman’s claim that the movie “doesn’t mean anything—it simply is,” but it’s a sentiment I’ve seen echoed in numerous reviews by critics who want to give Boonmee a positive review, but can’t really put their finger on what they liked and feel the need to justify their praise to the “Hollywood-ised” masses. I just don’t buy the idea that a movie about a man who spends his dying days being visited by ghosts and recalling his past lives doesn’t mean anything, or at least that’s not what I imagine writer/director Apichatpong Weerasethakul was shooting for. Nor do I think it deserves the highest award at Cannes simply because it is from a different perspective than you usually see. For me, the visuals, admittedly dense and striking, just didn’t add up to much, and nothing I have read since watching has convinced me otherwise.

Between Libiot being bored both times, and Roger Ebert writing “The movie is easy to understand. I discovered that on my second viewing,” Boonmee seems like a movie that both supporters and detractors consider worthy of two viewings. Would you watch it again?

Jeremiah White:  First, I want to admit that my experience the first time was probably not ideal for a movie like Boonmee. Watching on my couch, where momentary inattentiveness does occur and can easily break the “spell” of a movie, is not the best way to experience something this slow, poetic and atmospheric. You really need to immerse yourself. I would watch Boonmee again, but I’d like it to be in a theater, and after I’ve read a thorough breakdown of some of the more esoteric cultural references.

Jeff Hart:  Maybe if I ran out of Ambien.

Who invited the ghost to dinner?

Uncle Boonmee’s dreamlike qualities and stream-of-consciousness structure demand individual interpretation from viewers. Did any of its sequences strike a chord?

Jeff Hart:  I’m a philistine. I like a story with my cinema. It’s fun to unpack and interpret a film’s meaning, but I need something to grasp onto. The characters in Uncle Boonmee never gave me that necessary handhold. The one sequence I did find particularly poignant and touching was when Boonmee and the ghost of his long dead wife discussed how he could find her in the afterlife. The film is spent pondering these questions of life and death and the mind-body connection to nature; Boonmee’s melancholy conversation with his wife’s ghost the only point when I was truly drawn in emotionally.

Jeremiah White:  I was actually struck by the original appearance of Boonmee’s wife and son at the dinner table. The scene and the effects had an otherworldly yet matter-of-fact quality that made the idea of ghosts at the dinner table very real to me. For a short time, the world of Boonmee excited and intrigued me.

This week we’re watching The Myth of the American Sleepover where four teenagers wander the suburbs of Detroit over the last weekend of summer.

Next week:  Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives – This celebrated Thai film, hailed as “a modern masterpiece,” follows terminally ill Uncle Boonmee as he reflects on his past lives.

The Culture Blues Lethal Weapon Marathon Sleepover is not a myth.

Is American Sleepover the spiritual successor to Dazed and Confused, updated for the millennials?

Jeff Hart:  Sleepover is definitely cut from the same mold as Dazed and Confused, or really any other ensemble coming-of-age dramedy. It follows all the familiar beats – unrequited love, changing relationships, an all-consuming desire to shake one’s virginity – but it does so without any verve. This has to be the flattest, most melancholy collection of teenagers I’ve ever seen assembled on screen. These kids make being young and horny look like autism. As for being a spiritual successor to Dazed and Confused, I’d say no, because while Richard Linklater’s film definitely has its share of angst and awkwardness, Linklater understood that youth isn’t something to be suffered through. Are all the millennials mopey sadsacks?

Jeremiah White:  I certainly don’t see this as a spiritual successor to Dazed and Confused. The average age of the characters in the two films are a big clue to the major thematic differences. Dazed and Confused, which mostly features kids closer to graduation than their first day of high school, takes firm hold of the carefree, and fleeting, days of teenage liberty. L-I-V-I-N. American Sleepover instead focuses on kids at the front end of their high school career and deals more with the insecurity and self-doubt that comes, not only from trying to fit in, but also from watching movies like Dazed and Confused. For these kids, adolescence isn’t all it’s cracked up to be and that imbues the film with a sense of yearning and disenchantment. And I think that encapsulates the first two years of high school almost as well as Dazed and Confused does the last two.

Might there be a reason that the performances are so understated?

Jeff Hart:  I’m sure Jeremiah is going to rationalize these performances, so I’ll leave that to him. I put all the blame on writer/director David Robert Mitchell for setting out to make the most gentle and precious teen film possible. Only Claire Sloma’s rebellious dancer Maggie gets to show anything akin to a personality, and thus she’s the film’s most interesting character. These kids never stood a chance with Mitchell’s overly nostalgic and sensitive script.

Jeremiah White:  Rationalize is exactly what I’m going to do! Mitchell’s film is populated by many kids who actually look 15 years old, and who lack any professional experience. I wouldn’t be surprised if he made a conscious decision to keep these young, inexperienced actors on a short leash. The lack of personality on display does occasionally threaten to make Sleepover downright bland. But these performances mesh nicely with the low-key script. Ultimately, the performances don’t really add a whole lot, but considering how wary I am of child actors, I was just thankful they weren’t doing more damage. I still would have preferred a film populated entirely by David Dorfmans.

Michigan youths often troll for dates at the supermarket.

There’s not a whole lot going on in suburban Detroit, huh?

Jeremiah White: Like many teenage movies, Sleepover features multiple narratives over the course of one night that occasionally intersect. One of the things I really like about American Sleepover is the way that it subverts the expectations I have for this kind of movie. This kind of movie usually focuses on some momentous night, but Sleepover feels more honest and less contrived. The “craziest” night probably belongs to Scott and the Abbey twins, but they don’t even get chased by campus security or anything. Sleepover features plenty of moments that will stick with its characters, but they are quiet and believable moments, like a first kiss, the development of a new crush, or a single punch to the face.

Jeff Hart:  You know, your whole subversion of genre argument almost convinced me that I might be misjudging this movie. I appreciate what Mitchell did with these understated moments that will nonetheless loom large for these kids, but I just can't let that excuse Sleepover's total absence of humor and energy. And as for quiet and believable, how about that scene on the lake where philosopher Pool Boy basically runs down all the film's major themes in a speech that's not at all in keeping with the rest of the script? Did Mitchell think it would be too unsubtle to just pause his movie, stride on camera, and directly tell the audience what he was going for?

What skill would you showcase at a lakeside Drunken Talent Show?

Jeremiah White: Canoe gymnastics.

Jeff Hart:  Something sad, white, and suburban.

This week we’re watching Conan O'Brien Can't Stop, a documentary that takes you inside Conan's post-Tonight Show comedy tour.

Next week:  The Myth of the American Sleepover – Four teenagers wander the suburbs of Detroit over the last weekend of summer.

Conan mock laughing at one of his own knee-slappers.

Conan O’Brien Can’t Stop is a documentary, and you’re supposed to learn things from documentaries. What did you learn while on the road with Conan?

Jeremiah White:  The main attraction here is Conan himself. His short tenure on The Tonight Show and his heavily publicized departure brought him a whole new level of fame, and with that comes an increased interest in the personality of someone who had been appearing on the nation’s TV sets for 16 years. Can’t Stop only covers the 40-day tour that Conan embarked on after he left NBC, which is probably one of the more interesting, tumultuous times of Conan’s life, but it’s not what anyone really wants to see (that would be a documentary filmed during the whole falling out). The resulting film is more tour diary than psychological profile. There is little insight, but some of his behavior begs for interpretation. For someone who is so high energy on camera, Conan seemed downright weary behind the scenes. I also thought there was a huge disconnect between Conan and his fans, from automotive prayer circles to teenagers who don’t want to get “Jewed.” The debacle at NBC forced Conan to embrace a feverish enthusiasm from his fans that I don’t think he really buys into. It was nice to get a peek at Conan’s life, but I’m left with more questions than answers.

Jeff Hart:  Are we supposed to learn something from documentaries? I didn’t realize that was the rule! Anyway, maybe I’m reading into Can’t Stop more than Jeremiah is, but I think there’s plenty of insight into Conan’s psyche here. Possibly insight into the psyche of all performers everywhere, or at least the ones who spend their lives trying to make people laugh. There’s a real stink of desperation on Conan. As disconnected as he sometimes seems from his fans, he clearly has this insatiable need to get people to like him, to entertain. It’s almost like a portrait of addiction. He pushes himself for these strangers, and then lashes out at the people around him. Like Jeremiah, I wanted more details on the ugly NBC/Leno fiasco. While Can’t Stop lacks in gossip column fodder, it has plenty of depressing fallout with Conan trying to figure his life out after the rug has been yanked out from under him. Or, more accurately, after his audience has been yanked away from him. So I guess we learned that entertaining can be an addiction and comedians get depressed too?

Did you know that I introduced Nas and Damian Marley?

Are you a Conan O’Brien fan? And how did that affect your viewing experience?

Jeremiah White:  I was a big Conan fan at one time, but I haven’t paid attention to any of his television exploits since, like, 2004. I imagine that people who got caught up in the Team Coco brainwashing will probably get a lot more out of Can’t Stop than I did. It should serve as some sort of closure for them, watching their resilient hero defiantly rise from the ashes and tour the nation while legally prohibited from appearing on TV. I can see how that might be enjoyable, but I was just sort of along for a ride I didn’t really want to be on. I’d have liked more Conan interviews, or more of the nuts and bolts of writing and performing the show. Or at least more scenes of sleep deprived Conan annoying people by asking them about Nas and Damian Marley.

Jeff Hart:  It’s been a long time since Conan was my go-to late night entertainment. I followed The Tonight Show fiasco with some interest, although more because I was anti-Leno than pro-Conan. I’d root against Leno if he was competing for a late night show with Glenn Beck. Can’t Stop reminded me that I do really like Conan as an entertainer but, based on what I saw of his tour shows, it also reminded me why I lost interest in his show. Is that contradictory?

How big of an asshole is Conan on a scale of one to ten?

Jeff Hart:  I’d go with a 7. He’s always punching people, and he seems like a real dick to his staff, particularly his long-suffering assistant. At the same time, he seems like a very generous person and a smart guy. I’m not sure I would want to hang out with him but, like I said, his portrayal in Can’t Stop actually made me like him more.

Jeremiah White:  Yeah, 7 sounds about right. I completely believe that Conan is a good guy and that a lot of his asshole behavior is his way of joking with friends or taking the edge off of criticisms of coworkers, but I imagine that’s cold comfort to people like his assistant and Jack McBrayer who have to put up with incessant insults and mockery.

Conan or Andy?

Jeremiah White:  Andy. Especially after Can’t Stop where Andy’s deadpan demeanor made me laugh repeatedly while Conan’s attention starved mania just made me kind of sad.

Jeff Hart:  Max Weinberg. WHERE YOU AT, MAX?

This week we’re watching Limitless, wherein Bradley Cooper uses an experimental drug to unlock the full potential of his handsome brain.

Next week:  Conan O’Brien Can’t Stop – You’ve heard of this Conan character, right? This documentary shows what a crazy person he is during his post-Tonight Show comedy tour.

SPOILERS BELOW!

In his review for the New York Times, AO Scott described Limitless as “catalyzed by a jolting dose of satire,” whereas Nick Schager of the Village Voice calls it “empty, one-note, satire-free.” Which is it?

Jeff Hart:  Oh, Schager is definitely right. Limitless isn’t the least bit interested in using its admittedly cool premise to satirize our culture. That’s my biggest problem with the film, what really made it such an unbearable experience for me; the conflation of wealth and power with intelligence. Limitless is a perfect film for the kind of people that idolize Gordon Gekko. It’s jerk-off material for the set that believes the Transformers franchise is the pinnacle of film-making because it makes a lot of money. There’s no looking inward here, even though this is a film about the mind. Cooper has no comeuppance for turning into a highly erudite douche. He stays that way, and he should be celebrated.

Jeremiah White:  I have no idea what Scott felt was satirical here, unless the simple fact that it’s a terrible movie is all part of some big, elaborate joke. And that’s just ridiculous.

Bradley Cooper’s character describes his theoretical novel as a sci-fi story that’s really about the plight of the individual in the 21^st century. Is that a fair way to describe Limitless itself?

Jeremiah White: That sounds far too complimentary, but I’ll play along. The problem is that according to Limitless, the plight of the 21^st century individual is that they’re a bunch of vapid assholes chasing wealth, power, status and sex. We don’t learn too much about Cooper’s writer before he starts popping super-goofballs, but it’s hard to imagine someone with lofty artistic aspirations essentially gaining omnipotence and then deciding that the most appealing use of this ability is to place themselves in endless corporate merger meetings and embark on a political career. I can’t imagine many pursuits more tedious or a bigger waste of a “limitless” intelligence. How about you cure cancer or something?

Jeff Hart:  If you’re not making a shitload of money, argues Limitless, then you’re living life wrong. If the plight of individuals in the 21^st century is that they all wish they could rub elbows with the rich and powerful, then Limitless nails it. Also, how shitty do you think Cooper’s novel is? I bet very. There’s no indication that the wonder-drug ups creativity – unless you count using a child on ice-skates for a weapon as creative. It stands to reason, then, that he really plagiarized the shit out of his memory to write that novel. But everyone borrows, right?

"It was the best of times, it was THE BLURST of times?!"

Director Neil Burger employs a number of visual tricks in Limitless. What do they add to the film?

Jeremiah White: Very little of substance. Mostly they’re just meaningless eye candy, but occasionally they actually detract from the proceedings, as is the case with Cooper’s conspicuous blue eyes when he’s high and the x-ray shot of him swallowing his first taste of the wonder-drug. The only visual trick I actually thought added something to the narrative was the upside down shot of Cooper vomiting on the sidewalk, which ably conveyed the disorientation of being strung out on an experimental drug and realizing that you killed that hot socialite you banged last night.

Jeff Hart:  I really disliked the upside down vomiting as a perfect example of needless stylization. However, I did like the lighting changes to indicate when he was on the drug and when he wasn’t. Life is so gloomy when you’re not popping genius pills.

Does Limitless at least work as a thriller?

Jeff Hart:  The plotting is too haphazard to really build any sense of suspense. Storylines are snatched and then abandoned – like the murdered socialite. Interesting, though, that the big bad turns out to be a street gangster and not the scary corporate guys Cooper has been canoodling with. Because that’s what is really scary: organized crime stereotypes, not corporate powerbrokers. Also really scary? The idea of a Manchurian Candidate like Cooper’s character holding any kind of office.

Jeremiah White:  Yeah, there is no suspense, and the chases and fights quickly become tedious. Screenwriter Leslie Dixon repeatedly tries to manufacture tension through the scarcity of the drug, yet every time that Cooper really needs it, he whips out like 3,000 pills. The question is never “How can this drug help me out of this?” It’s just “Where can I get some more so that I can fix everything?” Dixon never bothers to figure out what useful applications the drug would actually have, neutralizing the one unique thing that Limitless has going for it. She just knows that while someone is on it, no one can hurt them.

What would you do if you could take NZT?

Jeff Hart:  Um, pretty much exactly what Cooper did. Let’s go cliff-diving inMorocco with my three supermodel girlfriends! Do they have cliffs inMorocco? How should I know? I’m stupid!

Jeremiah White:  I’d create a business that would generate lots of money with no involvement from me, taper off NZT, and read a lot of comics. Then, I’d use my personal wealth to get some eggheads to figure out some sort of nanotech or Highlander situation. I don’t need to be supersmart as long as I can live forever.

Ahh that cliff-diving afterglow.