Last week I was catching up on my trashy television by watching the marathon of "The Real World XX: Hollywood." And it was in Coral-vision! Coral is the famed, loudmouth snarkster from season 10: Back to New York. It's like watching a show with pop-ups or commentary; Coral has guests (other Real World/Road Rules alums) join her for an episode where they bag on the melodramatic happenings of the losers on the current season. All in good fun, and usually a healthy dose of the truth that hurts.
I know this issue gets covered with decent regularity (some designers are now insisting their models meet a certain weight in order to walk in shows, ABC cast curvy America Ferrera as the star of "Ugly Betty," Grey's Anatomy star Sara Ramierez and Dreamgirls Oscar-winner Jennifer Hudson are both size 12+ and proud of it) but the complaints never really seem to go away. I'm happy that some of the curvier stars are proving that size is not necessarily a detriment to sex appeal, or to being a working actress. But many of the attempts to portray female characters as healthy role models, not anorexic ideals, have gone about it the wrong way.
not just oatmeal, but fast food, bread, junk food - in order to send the message to young girls that it's okay to eat and to like food. As admirable as her intention obviously was, it portrays a conflicting dichotomy: yes, we may see gorgeous, slender Cameron Diaz, Lucy Liu and Drew Barrymore eating like pigs in the film, but we know that in real life, these actresses have to watch their diet, steadfastly work out, and train like hell to pull off those stunts. It sets up another impossible ideal: the beautiful, skinny woman who can eat whatever she wants. I don't doubt that women like that exist, but it needs to be understood that being a size zero isn't usually synonymous with a person who regularly eats junk food.
and claims shopping is her only exercise. In reality, Parker works to keep her body looking good. I can't speak for her diet (she may be one of those lucky 'anything goes' women with regards to food) but Carrie's tight, toned, in shape body belies that Parker must do some frequent strength and cardio training. But the image of the character is that she can eat anything, be lazy, and still look fabulous. (To be fair to the show, Samantha's strict adherence to 'organic' foods and water with lemon was a major plot point, Miranda went through a round of Weight Watchers to get rid of her post-baby weight, and Charlotte has frequent doubts about her curvy thighs, eats appropriately, and is portrayed as a consistent runner.) I don't want television shows and films to revolve around female characters eating a lot and then having pointed dialogue about how they have to work out, but if you're going to have tiny women in practically every role, it is necessary to organically incorporate the fact that these characters have to exercise or watch their diet, otherwise it's not sending quite the empowering message producers and writers may be aiming for.
Fat Greek Wedding, the list goes on and on). Of course, once she's gorgeous the man will say that he always loved her anyways, that she didn't need to change. Which means that her transformation is for the audience's benefit; these films are subtly re-enforcing the idea that only beautiful women are deserving of love. So when chunky Nicki Blonsky wins her man by defiantly dancing her ass off, regardless of size, she wins him over with her joy in doing what she loves, not with her size 2 figure. And because the object of her affection is played by tween-heartthrob Zac Efron, I'll bet a lot more girls paid attention. That makes me happy. (I also adore that curvy Minnie Driver never goes through a drastic makeover in the underrated Circle of Friends - she too gets her man by being herself, albeit a few more complications.)
Everyone knows this movie, and almost everyone admires it as one of the best. (There was an especially great post at The Cooler blog a few days after the issue of EW had come out, espousing the vices and virtues of Pulp Fiction on current filmmaking and pop culture. Check it out.) I full-heartedly agree with #1, although I think it may be kind of played out in 30 years, but that's then. In addition to QT's icon, Schindler's List deserves the nod for signaling the beginning of Spielberg's grown-up period and immersing us as fully as the medium of film allows, in the visceral abominations of the Holocaust. Spielberg's Saving Private Ryan earned it's place for that horrifically realistic beach-landing, and for, as Ebert put it, "making a philosophical film about war almost entirely in terms of action."
Goodfellas and Do the Right Thing are also no-brainers (there are a lot more in this section). Goodfellas is one of Martin Scorcese's masterpieces, telling a mobster story with infinite style, headlong enthusiasm, and even incorporating the wife's conflicted, complicit feelings about her compromised world. Spike Lee changed the way a lot of people thought about race with 1989's Do the Right Thing; he made it clear that just because segregation was over and affirmative action was in play, didn't mean that race relations were clear or that resentments based on race don't still exist and effect our everyday lives. I've seen blogs that question whether that films still retains the same power and incendiary social commentary, but even if it's point of view becomes outdated, I think it will remain a testament to some of the conflicts of the later 20th century.
success, gave us the great "Yippee Kai Yay, Mother Fucker!" line, Alan Rickman's awesomely bad baddie, and made Bruce Willis the epitome of macho tenderness we know and love today. And in the vein of famously evil, yet kind of likable and magnificent bad guys, Anthony Hopkins made Hannibal Lector pop culture magic in Silence of the Lambs, as well as officially ushering in the decade of blockbuster courtroom, detective, wrongfully accused and John Grisham thrillers. However eternal their fame, I do wonder if the subject matter and context will be as dutifully revered in the future: couldn't it be dangerous to glamourize a serial killer and cheer on his plan to murder the (admittedly odious) warden/doctor of his jail? The non-stop gun shooting of The Matrix can get old, and it was followed by two of the most disappointing sequels ever (after the Star Wars prequels, of course), and it's hard to tell if the action sequences of Die Hard will look as cool in the future when the "European bad guys takeover corporation in madness of greed" set-up seems so arcane.
What can I really say about Titanic or the Lord of the Rings trilogy? They are epic, blockbuster money-makers, deeply beloved, huge staples of popular entertainment. There is no doubt they will be fused to the core of pop culture for many years to come (Leonardo DiCaprio, Gollum, "I'm the King of the World!", "GAN-dolf!"). But they are also both films full of flaws (no matter how much I love them, I must admit this). The glossy veneer of Titanic has already begun to fade under sharp criticism of it's bare bones plot, stock characters and ridiculous dialogue, and the once-revolutionary special effects won't seem so groundbreaking in 20 years (they already look less slick). Someday Titanic may be viewed as little more that the Towering Inferno of the '90's (that disaster flick got a Best Picture nom too, though not the win), apart from it's historic worldwide box-office. I think the LotR trilogy will fair better in the critical world, and the fact that it's a franchise helps ensure it's longevity, but it too has moments of ridiculous dialogue (even if Tolkien wrote it, doesn't mean Elijah Wood can pull off saying all of it), good vs. evil generalizations, and intermittent lulls of staggering plot stalls in films stuffed to the brim with characters and plot. (Don't hate me, I really do love them. I just don't know how they'll fair on the critical end of "classicism" in the future.)
Wow, I've already written a lot. I'll try to make the rest of this as brief as possible. Jerry Maguire, Rushmore, and Boogie Nights. I love it, but think Maguire is overrated and apart from the catch-phrase trifecta "Show me the money!", "You complete me", and "You had me at hello", will be more of a people-who-grew-up-in-the-90's classic, rather than a true classic. I prefer director Cameron Crowe's Almost Famous. I also think that Wes Anderson's real triumph has been The Royal Tenenbaums (though Rushmore stands out in ways because of Bill Murray and Jason Schwartzman's performances), and that Magnolia is the better Paul Thomas Anderson film. Boogie Nights has the notoriety because it takes place within the porn industry, but I think Magnolia has a bigger fanbase (which is kind of necessary to achieve classic status). As for Moulin Rouge and Memento? I was shocked to see Moulin Rouge ranked this high. It did allow the musical to once again become a working genre, but it's far too frenetic and audaciously loud to be universally liked; it's divisive and always will be. And Memento, though introducing director Christopher Nolan, and telling a compelling story, is not as revolutionary as we once thought. The backward storytelling technique is clever, but had been done before, and I honestly don't hear it mentioned much anymore, accomplished or not.
this film shouldn't ever be more than a cult classic. The Lion King has popularity on it's side, but aside from Mufasa's Hamlet-inspired death, lacks the depth of other Disney cartoons. Pumbaa and Timon are lovable, but they're no Scuttle, Lumiere, Genie, Gus-Gus, or Dopey. Scar is a fairly effective villain, but his heyena sidekicks are lame and his song sucks (can anyone sing it for me right now? No? How about
"Gaston"? "No one's got a small cleft in his CHIN like Gaston!" Case closed.) Shrek has potential, but it's popularity is diluting it's power. The original is so inventive and charming and Donkey is one of the all-time great sidekicks, but how many lame sequels will follow? Right now we're at three, with plans for a fourth and fifth. Does anyone remember The Land Before Time? That great little movie about the dinosaur friends? Well, we all used to love it....until it became fatally tainted by the 12 and counting sequels that dragged it's name through the mud with their ludicrous plots, crappy animation and horrible songs. There's a lesson in that fate for you makers of Shrek, if you catch my drift. However, I have no trouble believing that Toy Story is a classic. Pixar's first feature opened the door to not only a new style of popular animation, but is famous for telling stories that could only be told in animation, from a point of view rarely heard. Toy Story is the patriarch of this legacy and wears it's crown well.
because Daniel Day-Lewis is awesome, Merchant/Ivory championed the period piece, and there are no other strictly "period piece" films on this list; This is Spinal Tap is a legend and will stay one; Hannah and Her Sisters is my favorite Woody Allen film, but I think Crimes and Misdemeanors is generally considered his '80's classic; and as for Blue Velvet? David Lynch is a crazy, rule-bending director, and a rarity in this business. His films are arty and incomprehensible and original and beautiful, and I don't get them at all. He deserves a film on this list and Blue Velvet is his most well-known, though I haven't seen it. I wouldn't be surprised if both it and Mullholland Drive are considered his classics for years to come.
I think I'm officially through with the Emmys. I tried to get on board the last couple of years - I was stoked to see "The Office" win Best Comedy for Season 2, I tuned in for "The Sopranos" swan song" - but the nominations just annoy the crap out of me. Unlike the Oscars, which feature different movies and performances every year, The Emmys are just the same also-ran shows from last year, the same actor getting his umpteenth nomination for a less-than-stellar show. And even when the Academy does something right and gets a great new show a whole slew of nominations, they invariably include a whole host of schmucks who don't deserve it. In no particular order, here are my beefs with this year:
I will give the show it's proper due in the drama category; with the exception of Boston Legal - Mad Men, Dexter, Lost, House, and Damages all had quality years. I also commend the recognition of Bryan Cranston (of "Malcolm in the Middle" fame) as Best Actor nominee for Breaking Bad, as well as the nominations for Michael Emerson (Ben on Lost), the many guest actor noms for 30 Rock (no other show does it better), as well as the acting noms for Pushing Daisies, Mad Men and TV-movie "Recount." However, these well-dones don't make up for a consistent delivery of rejections and disappointments that never seem to end. (Maybe I just never got over the terminal ignorance of Lauren Graham's amazing work on Gilmore Girls.)
of my blog? Can you give a girl a break? Pleeeeeease??? :)
master in style from director Brian DePalma. And Aliens is the epitome of a successful, suspenseful, rewarding, edge-of-your-seat popcorn flick. It also helps that "Say hello to my little friend!" and "Get away from her, you bitch!" have both become such iconic pop culture phrases. In addition to these titles, When Harry Met Sally..., The Breakfast Club, and Pretty Woman have pretty much proven their classic status by now, even if none of them can claim overwhelmingly long-lasting critical success. Pretty Woman is the ultimate fairytale and the film responsible for making us all fall in love with Julia Roberts, The Breakfast Club helped develop the serious teen flick and it's influence is still felt today, and When Harry Met Sally... is a cornerstone film in the romantic comedy genre, fueling the age-old question "Can men and women be friends?"
I didn't much bat my eyes at Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, Dazed and Confused, Speed or Fargo either. CTHD was definitely a pop culture milestone (the first foreign film to pass $100 million) and it's particular brand of dreamy action sequences was so new and different. However, it has been followed (perhaps even preceded) by a series of similar films (Hero, House of Flying Daggers) and it's hard to tell whether one of them won't be preferred in the future. Dazed and Confused is largely regarded as "Altman-light" due to it's sprawling cast, intersecting characters, and time constraints (Dazed all takes place in the course of a single day). However it's enduring popularity amongst high school and college students makes up for it's seeming lack of substance. Speed has long established it's dominance in the action genre, even despite a less-than-stellar 5th act, and Fargo, long considered a little Coen Brothers gem, has had it's status cemented with their recent Oscar success.
they can see more deeply into what the film is attempting to accomplish, but it left me cold. Other than it's Best Director nomination for Jane Campion (only the second woman ever nominated for director) the film doesn't seem to have left much of a mark. The same can't be said for Rain Man, a film everyone has seen and can quote with 
much familiarity. It's a good film, and the performance of Dustin Hoffman is certainly iconic, but it seems to lose a little more respect every year when the Best and Worst Oscars are discussed. As for Gladiator, I'll try to keep my infamous prejudice aside, but I just don't think it's that great. It's good, it's enjoyable, and it certainly caused a stir, but the only thing it really deserves credit for is further establishing to the world the genius of Russell Crowe. He owns the film, and thanks to the film's success, he's been set up as one of the best actors of his generation, deservingly so. I suppose this film will be likened to older classics Spartucus and Ben-Hur, but at least Ben-Hur had that amazing chariot race; I don't think Gladiator has a single scene of such power, as good as it is. Brokeback Mountain, on the other hand, is a delicately balanced and lonely film, and made history as one of the first homosexual films treated as an epic romance and featuring well-known Hollywood beefcakes kissing. And as much as I love it and hope it remains thought of as a classic, I wouldn't be surprised if down the road the film is mainly remembered as the astounding swan song performance of Heath Ledger. As I've said before, it's just too soon to tell.
Looking over the list, only one title jumped out at me and said, "I don't belong here!" and it was Men in Black. It's funny, it has a clever premise, Will Smith and Tommy Lee Jones have good chemistry, and thanks to it's success, Smith is now "Mr. July" and summer movies are all the loud, franchised,
big-budgeted rage. But it's not THAT great. Neither is Clueless, really. It's also clever and so much fun, but it's constant '90's references, not to mention insane fashion, are really going to appear dated, of they don't already. It'll be like the Valley Girl of our generation: cute, beloved, but not a classic. Two action sequels appeared on this list (The Bourne Supremacy and Spiderman 2) which intrigued me. I think it's too early to single out Supremacy as the lone classic of the Bourne franchise as last summer's Ultimatum is considered the best by many. Spiderman 2 is one of the best superhero movies ever made, but even I thought it seemed widely overpraised then, and I don't see it retaining classic status now, especially if this summer's The Dark Knight is as good as everyone's claiming. But it's very good and in this superhero infatuated state, it's hard to tell what will stand out from the rubble after the mania has worn itself out.
darlings, but will require massive word of mouth to be talked of outside prestigious film publications in the future. If M. Night Shyamalan continues his descent into crappy filmmaking, The Sixth Sense will be thought of as a total fluke, possibly dismissed. As good as it is, I think some of his other films are just as accomplished, and if Shyamalan can pull it together and redeem himself in the critical eye, I see no reason why some of his other films won't be seen as classics someday. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind should retain it's status based on the sheer original audacity of it's plot (and part of Kate Winslet's considerable body of work). The Incredibles doesn't seem as sure to me, if only because no one seems able to reach a consensus on which Pixar films are the classics (other than it's first, Toy Story, appearing later on this list); is it Finding Nemo? The action adventure James Bond spoof, The Incredibles? Will Monsters Inc. regain it's fame? Will new sensation Wall-E become the gold standard? It's impossible to conjecture, although I would be thrilled if The Incredibles remained a classic: it's incredible.
As for Fight Club, I see the same debate every year: Fight Club or Seven? There seems to be agreement that one of David Fincher's films should be considered his masterpiece. The problem is, no one agrees on which film is the best, or even if either film is good. Fight Club is criticized for it's blatant violence and fascism, while Seven is chastised for it's fascination with a serial killer that seems to romanticize his methods. I read an excellent essay at Scanners, defending the attitudes and metaphors employed by Fight Club - read it if you're a fan who needs some amo. While I think both of these are great films, I will say that I prefer the physical brutality of Fight Club, which in no way compares to the moral and emotional violence I experienced in watching Seven; I have seldom felt so repelled, sickened and dirty after a viewing.