"Tsk, tsk," says Bruce Wayne

Bruce Wayne would be ashamed.* 

How dare a group of Batman zealots bully and berate innocent people (even if they are critics) in his name?  

Or perhaps there's something more sinister taking place? Because, really, why would annyone -- even a rabid fanboy troll--issue a death threat because of a negative review of "The Dark Knight Rises?" My theory? Maybe these internet thugs are just the first wave of Bane's anarchist army, coming to destroy Gotham -- I mean, America-- by rotting it from the inside out?

Or maybe it's just that some of the fanboys and girls still have that post Comic-Con adrenaline pumping through their veins. You know what might cure that? A short walk away from the computer, to the outside world, where the sun is shining and people are going about living their actual lives.

I wonder if any of their bile will make it to the comments section of my review? I only knocked off one star, but I had the audacity to point out some of the film's obvious flaws. Because, you know, that's my job.

*I wrote this post just hours before the tragic shooting in Aurora, CO. I can't even imagine what Bruce Wayne would say (or do, more likely) about that. My heart goes out to everyone affected.

Help Me, Help You - The Skinny on Obesity

It's nearly June and I've yet to be enthralled by much of anything at the movies, including the two films I reviewed this week, Hysteria and Men in Black 3. So far this year, television has made the biggest impression on me as I catch up on the shows I've missed -- Breaking Bad, Downton Abbey, Mad Men-- and even a few current programs -- Modern Family, 30 Rock, Community. Sometimes I wish I were a TV critic.

But what's kept me most interested this Spring is a series I've been working on for my "real job" at University of California Television, which now includes a YouTube original channel, UCTV Prime. The series is called "The Skinny on Obesity" and it features seven short episodes that make the case that sugar is a toxin that's fueling the obesity epidemic. This is a theory most publicly espoused by UCSF's Dr. Robert Lustig, whose 90-minute UCTV talk, "Sugar: The Bitter Truth," went viral, sparking national coverage that includes a recent "60 Minutes" segment with Sanjay Gupta. 

When YouTube awarded us with an original channel (the only university to be included in their historic effort to fund and develop original content on the platform), we knew we had to dig deeper into Dr. Lustig's message, which was obviously striking a chord in the public consciousness. Hence, "The Skinny on Obesity," which posted its final episode today.

Now, I 've had to watch these videos over and over again, in many different stages of completion. I've offered input and, more so, developed the complementary content for the programs on the UCTV website. I've also been swimming in YouTube annotations, playlists and comments. Who knew my job would one day be fiddling around on YouTube all day?

The point is, it's starting to sink in. I can sense a deep-rooted shift in how I think about food in my daily life now that I have a deeper understanding of how my body processes sugar and the biochemical impact it has on my brain and behavior. I'm making different food choices; just little ones for now, but ones that fall on the lifestyle changing spectrum, not a flash in the pan diet. Pretty cool job perk if you ask me.

Hope you'll watch the series too - -and spread the word! My day job may depend on it.

Saint "Senna"

My head is spinning after watching "Senna" on Netflix Instant. I can't decide which revelation to begin with so, rather than trying to finesse it, I'm going to take full advantage of the blog format and just spill it as it comes.

Before watching the documentary about Brazilian Formula One driver Ayrton Senna, I noted how my two favorite documentaries of the year --"Buck" and "Bill Cunningham New York"-- introduced me to two humble, inspirational men.  First it was Buck Brannaman, the real-life "horse whisperer" who found healing and remarkable inner peace through rehabilitating horses and their owners. Then came New York Times fashion photographer Bill Cunningham, who quietly recorded the changing times from the seat of his bicycle. Both films made me want to pack a bag and show up on either of their doorsteps, asking for them to adopt me.

And now there's Ayrton Senna. I can assure you that I wouldn't be asking him to adopt me if I showed up on his doorstep (he is a simply stunning man), but my level of admiration for his honesty, humility and nearly inhuman determination would be unmatched. When it comes to the best documentaries of 2011, let's call it a trifecta of admirable men.

Then there's director Asif Kapadia's choice to use only archival video from news coverage, team footage, home movies, and POV footage from inside Senna's car as it weaves so tightly through the narrow track that you can't help but hold your breath the entire time. There are no cutaways to in-studio interviews of the players (only the frugal use of voiceover narration from a select group of insiders). There's no sense that time has passed since Senna's prime in the late 80s through the mid-90s. You are on this ride with Senna and you are given no option to get off as the tension builds.

Kapadia is able to pull this off because Senna's career coincided with the rise of video culture. He didn't have just one or two news clips to choose from for each significant event, as might have been the case had Senna been a star of an earlier era. No, the director had a veritable smorgasbord of options as everyone and their brother seemed to be sporting a video camera during this time period.

We get different angles of the same event. Close-ups of Senna in anguish over another driver's crash. Press conference footage showing the awkward tension between the rising star and his threatened World Champion teammate, Alain Prost. Who needs a carefully scripted dramatization of one man's personal quest for victory and redemption, say "Moneyball," when you can piece it together using the real players, in the real moment?

It's almost uncanny how well Kapadia assembled it all together. It's also a little frightening when you think about how the lives of today's legends in the making --or any of us average joes--could, twenty years from now, be reassembled, edited, beautifully scored (as "Senna" was by Antonio Pinto ) and retold to a public that was on the verge of forgetting.

But the film also made me feel manipulated. I fell in love with the handsome, driven young man with a heart of gold. How could you not the way he's portrayed in the film? I'm not exaggerating when I say Senna comes off as Christlike. He's devoted to his family. His faith in God never wavers. He never brags. He never accuses. He drives with intelligence, not bravado. He rarely loses, and when he does or (gasp) makes a mistake, he always acknowledges the lesson learned. He values life outside the track, dedicating resources to help poor children in his homeland and pondering where life will take him once his driving career inevitably winds down. Senna's entire nation, crippled by poverty and political oppression, rested its hopes on his bronzed shoulders.

If the man had a flaw, Kapadia doesn't show it. Even his sex life, which one must presume was robust, is merely winked at. We get no sense of Senna as a boyfriend, friend, lover. Even his familial relationships are mostly unexplored. Believe me, I wanted to go along with the "Senna as Saint" storyline. Everyone wants a hero. All the better if he actually existed. For my own enjoyment, I was willing to buy in. That was, until this prominent credit popped up at the film's conclusion:

Made with the cooperation of Institute Ayrton Senna

This is the charitable organization established by Senna's sister after his death.

All of a sudden it felt like I'd been taken in by a highly produced tribute video made by the Senna family in honor of their beloved Ayrton.  That doesn't make him any less captivating, nor does it mean I'm no longer moved by the film. In fact, I can't get it out of my head. It just has an asterisk beside it now.

But I'd say Kapadia's most impressive accomplishment is his ability to weave in to the story a sort of "Formula One 101." I knew nothing of the sport other than what Sacha Baron Cohen showed me in "Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby." At the close of "Senna," I understood the basics of the Grand Prix competition, both on the track and throughout the season. I got a feel for the politics and money that brought the sport to the relatively corrupt level of almost all professional sports. I even came to appreciate the immense skill the sport requires and why someone might find the thrill of being behind the wheel enough of a reason to put their life on the line.

So add an asterisk to my 2011 Best Of list and consider "Senna" to be on it.

"The Artist," and I'm sticking to it.

Jean Dujardin as George Valentin and
 Berenice Bejo as Peppy Miller in "The Artist."
AP Photo/The Weinstein Company

With my 4-star review of "The Artist," I give away one of my top picks of 2011 (the official list runs December 30). After winning a slew of awards from critics groups and festivals (including the San Diego Film Critics Society, which voted it Best Film, my vote included), this black and white silent film is now suffering through something of a backlash with accusations that its story is too slight, the content is low-brow, and its style is merely a "technical exercise" in filmmaking. Obviously I don't agree, though I can see some of what they're saying -- but I loved the film anyway. You can read why in my review.

I was thrilled to get the chance to interview the film's director, Michel Hazanavicius (a name I will forever know how to spell after fixing it in spell check dozens of times), a Frenchman who dazzled me with his ability to articulate the essence of American storytelling during our conversation and in the film itself. You can read the story here.

You also might want to check out Mike Ryan's (Moviefone.com) astute and entertaining explanation of why "It's OK to Like 'The Artist,'" in which he somehow manages to compare the film to the 90s band The Gin Blossoms -- and have it not be an insult.

A friend recently asked me what holiday movies are a must-see for her family, which includes a husband and two college-age sons. When I recommended "The Artist" she scrunched her face up and said with disbelief, "Really? Isn't that the silent movie?" as if that meant it was far too artsy-fartsy for her family's taste. My response was that this is a very mainstream film (hence the backlash, critics are supposed to hate anything mainstream, don't you know) that is perfect for the holidays because it just makes you feel good. 

The way things are going these days, I'll take it where I can get it.

Happy holidays to all! I'll post my top picks of 2011 next week.

Scorsese for Kids

Asa Butterfield (left) plays Hugo Cabret and Chloe Grace Moretz
plays Isabelle in HUGO, from Paramount Pictures and GK Films.

Watching Martin Scorsese chatting it up on The Daily Show last week was a revelation. Or maybe it was just a good sales pitch. Either way, his easygoing, lighthearted interview was a far cry from the tightly wound, uber-serious director we've come to know over the decades. Considering his latest film, "Hugo," is aimed at children, I'd say that's a good thing.

I've had my own first-hand experiences with Scorsese over the course of my career -- first as an intern in his small New York production office, and later while working on an American Movie Classics event with his Film Foundation. While I walked away from these jobs with some darn good anecdotes (most notably the time his mother Catherine - you know her as the mother of Joe Pesci's character in "Goodfellas"- nervously pumped me for information about her overworked son when I went to her apartment to pick up a homemade calzone),  I also cite both experiences as the reasons why I opted out of the entertainment business as a career. Or at least the star-pleasing side of the business that requires one to jump at every command, scurry around in a hushed panic, and suppress the ballooning urge to scream, "DID YOU FORGET WHERE YOU CAME FROM?!"  Clearly this was not my cup of tea.

Now that I'm happily ensconced on the outside of that nonsensical hysteria, I don't have to think about what kind of plates the great director requires for his take-out pizza or what pants his tailor needs to alter. I can shove that stuff in the gossip bin where it belongs and enjoy the results of his lifelong dedication to filmmaking, which he puts on display in "Hugo" (read my review here).

That being said, I still like to spill an anecdote or two when the mood strikes.

Happy Thanksgiving!

A Singular Olsen Sister

Elizabeth Olsen and Sean Durkin,
star and director of "Martha Marcy May Marlene"
Photo credit: Earnie Grafton, U-T

At last, an Olsen sister who can have her photograph taken without posing in a ridiculous manner. But that's not the only quality Elizabeth Olsen has that's worth celebrating.

I spent some quality time with Olsen, star of the new indie "cult" film (literally) "Martha Marcy May Marlene," when she was in town this summer with the film's writer/director Sean Durkin. We were the only two women at a sparsely attended critics' mixer and, while the men did that thing they do where they show each other how much they know, she and I sat together at a table chatting about going to college in New York City (she's at NYU, I went to Columbia), her suddenly exploding career and how she's the first Olsen sister who actually likes performing (her sisters prefer board meetings for their company, which they've been attending since their tweens).

All in all, it was a pleasure to cross paths with Olsen at this precious moment in her life, between carefree young adult and celebrated actress.

Here's my interview with Olsen and Durkin and my review of "Martha Marcy May Marlene."

You don't have to join any "families" to see the film.

Bill Cunningham: A pure portrait

My own personal fashion icon, Bill Cunningham

I'm so thankful for having had just enough free time this week to finally catch "Bill Cunningham New York" on Netflix Instant. What an absolutely perfect portrait of a true New York personality. Not the chic, filthy rich, high society New York, but a relic of the days when the city housed personalities known not for their ability to generate money, but for their truly original character.

More than the street fashion he admires enough to photograph, Cunningham himself is the work of art; perhaps the last "honest and straight" person to still be living and admired in New York.  Director Richard Press captures the frugal fashion spotter exactly how he would prefer (if he didn't hate the attention so much) -- simply and naturalistically. 

This delicate, touching portrait officially puts Cunningham right alongside Buck Brannaman on my extremely short list of men I wish would adopt me. If you haven't seen either "Bill Cunningham New  York" or "Buck," do so immediately.

In the meantime, check out my preview of the San Diego Asian Film Festival, running October 20-28 at Hazard Center. As for the Steve Martin, Jack Black, Owen Wilson release "The Big Year," I ask that you only commit the amount of time it takes to read my review, full of many terrible bird puns that couldn't possibly be worse than the film itself.

Finally, a 4-star movie; Potter death march

Ryan Gosling in "Drive"

As much as I enjoyed certain summer fare like "Rise of the Planet of the Apes" and "Captain America," this summer's been something of a slog. But Nicolas Winding Refn's "Drive," which I reviewed this week, took me on one hell of a ride. 


"Drive" isn't just entertainment, it's art. Rarely do the two worlds collide, but Refn's managed it here. It's been years since a film left me buzzing with such excitement and, with a 94% Rotten Tomato rating, I'm clearly not alone. I admit that at least 1/4 of my 4 stars (out of 5) are attributable to lust for Ryan Gosling (on top of his tremendous performance). But even the male critics I talked to have admitted having a "man crush" after seeing this film. James Franco, you have been demoted -- big time.

I also must acknowledge a major milestone in my film watching life. As of Labor Day, I have seen all the Harry Potter movies, thanks to the persistence of the Sobering Conclusion's Ian Forbes, who had me on a Harry Potter DVD Death March of sorts during the month of August. The goal? To catch the final installment on the big screen. With a "Deathly Hallows" double feature on Labor Day, I can now say I accomplished something this summer.


I have to admit, I was a little disappointed. Not by the series (though the first two were enough to turn me off entirely, until Ian made his case), but by the indifference of the AMC lobby as we exited the theater having concluded the mission. I'm not sure what I was expecting --balloons, a round of applause, a tasteful awards ceremony--but a desolate lobby on a dark, rainy night just wasn't cutting it. 


What I most enjoyed about the films was how they matured along with the characters and, presumably, the young audience as well. Until Ian inflicted his obsession on me, I'd only read the first book and seen the corresponding movie. While I appreciated the world J.K. Rowling created, I concluded it was one mostly for children. But children grow up and the films (and I've been told the books) take that often difficult journey right along with them in subject matter and tone. While the third film, directed by Alfonso Cuarón, is easily the best of the bunch, I appreciated how each successive film reflected the emotional phases these kids - and I imagine most kids- are going through: facing adult responsibility, isolation, puberty, sexuality, pure silliness. 


While I didn't walk away with any new obsessions (Ryan Gosling wasn't in any of the films, after all), I'm glad I checked this off my list -- even if I am a few years behind the curve.

Well-Directed Rage

Debbie Peagler, subject of the
 documentary "Crime After Crime"

"One Day" feels like a life sentence (here's my 1/2 star review), but it's nothing compared to the disgraceful injustice suffered by Debbie Peagler in  "Crime After Crime," a documentary opening today at Reading Gaslamp Cinemas. (Read my interview with the film's director, La Jolla native Yoav Potash.) If you're going to get angry while watching a film (as I did during the laughable romantic drama "One Day"), you'd at least like that anger to be intentionally provoked.

While I can't say that "Crime After Crime" is a particularly well-crafted film, you'd have to be a sociopath or robot for Debbie's story not to enrage you. While watching the DVD screener with friends, we had to pause at least 10 times just to yell at the TV and blow off the accumulating steam.

A young American soldier (Dan Dehaan)
in John Sayles' take on the
Philippine-American war, "Amigo."

I also suggest you check out the new John Sayles' film "Amigo," opening today at Horton Plaza cinemas. Sayles is one of my favorite filmmakers; I find myself wanting to sit with his characters all day, absorbing their stories, surroundings and relationships with the same patience Sayles demonstrates with his camera.

In typical Sayles fashion, he bucks all conventionality by telling a story about a war most Americans barely recall from history class - the Philippine-American war (1899-1902). Even if you're not familiar with the history, Sayles keeps the story timely by letting us into the lives of its participants at the most human level, revealing there is no clear-cut "good guy" and "bad guy" when it comes to war.

I normally describe Sayles' films as a slow burn; you may not feel a lot at first, but if you stick with it and invest, you'll be seared to the core by film's end ("Lone Star" being a perfect example). While "Amigo" took a little longer to singe, it still got me there. Thanks to the San Diego Asian Film Foundation for holding the special screening.

Finally, for the first time I attended a screening of films from this year's 48 Hour Film Project, which took place August 5-7 in San Diego. I had no idea what to expect going in, though I feared it would consist of some pretty awful movies slapped together by amateur crews over the course of two harried days.

What I saw was almost the exact opposite, but more important than the finished product was the feeling of camaraderie in the crowd, made up mostly of crew members, their friends and family. The whole event had a sort of Mickey Rooney/Judy Garland "Let's put on a show!" vibe to it and I left wanting to sign up for next year. What better to way to punish a film critic than to have her PA on a no-budget film!

Whatever you decide to see or do this weekend, make it a good one. Summer's almost over after all.

Book vs. Movie: "The Help"

In Jackson, Mississippi in 1963, Skeeter Phelan
(Emma Stone, left), Minny Jackson (Octavia Spencer, center)
and Aibileen Clark (Viola Davis) build an unlikely friendship
 around a secret writing project in “The Help.”
©DreamWorks II Distribution Co., LLC.

A reader recently emailed me with a good question. When applicable (and it seems to always be these days), do you judge a film based on how compares to its source material -- be it a book, play, graphic novel, whatever -- or do you judge it on its own merits, without consideration to its roots?

Honestly, I didn't have a strong opinion either way. If I knew the source material--and liked it--then it mattered. Or not.  But when "The Help" came along, I made up my mind.

Knowing I would be reviewing the film in August, I picked up a copy of "The Help" in July, fully expecting an insult to my intelligence. Instead I was captivated. In fact, I had what I would call a bit of a claustrophobic attack as I finally understood on an emotional level just how trapped the African American characters were. I knew all about Jim Crow, segregation and lynchings---but I never really understood how living under that oppression might feel it until I read "The Help."

Because I was scheduled to interview the book's author, Kathryn Stockett, and Bryce Dallas Howard, who plays Hilly Hollbrook in the film, I needed to see the movie before I was able to finish the book. In fact, I was about 30 pages from the end, so when I sat down in the theater that weekday morning, all I could think about was where I'd left Aibileen and Milly on paper, and how their world was different or the same in the movie that was unfolding before me. It was the most distracted I'd ever been watching a film and I knew before I got to my car that I'd need to see it again before I wrote my review.

By the time that second viewing came around I'd long finished the book and was able to see the movie with a fresh perspective. Instead of noting all the similarities and differences, I focused on the story being told on screen -- and I liked it a lot more than I did the first time around.

So, in answer to the reader's question, I now say this: If you have the option, see the movie first. Then read the source material. Chances are, you'll be distracted from neither and remain fair. At least that 's how I'm going to do it from here on out, which works out well since I barely have time to read these days anyway!

Here's my review of "The Help" and my interview with Kathryn Stockett and Bryce Dallas Howard.

I also reviewed "30 Minutes or Less" this week (in Friday's paper), but if you are contemplating seeing that, I recommend reading a book -- any book--instead.

Brit Marling is indeed from "Another Earth"; "Apes" vs. Franco

Reading Brit Marling's bio is a slightly sickening experience.

The star and co-writer of "Another Earth" graduated valedictorian from Georgetown University with a major in economics, then turned down a lucrative career in finance to become an actress and artist. Instead of struggling through her 20s waiting tables in LA and slugging through auditions, the natural beauty formed a winning creative partnership with director Mike Cahill, first with the documentary "Boxers and Ballerinas," and now the indie Sundance hit, "Another Earth."

But when you meet the poised, bright-eyed young woman, you understand her success -- and eagerly await what comes next for her as an actress and co-writer/producer with the equally enthusiastic and impressive Cahill.

Read my interview with both of them here, then check out my review of "Another Earth." 

Speaking of alternate realities, how about apes taking over the planet? I went in to "Rise of the Planet of the Apes" thinking, "Hey, Franco's in it -- that's all I really need." I walked out thinking, "Franco who? Go apes!" Read my review of "Rise of the Planet of the Apes" here.

Whatever planet you visit, enjoy the weekend.

Kiddie Flicks

As a freelance critic with a full-time day job, I only have time to review one or two movies per week. So when it's time to choose what I'm going to review for the month, I tend to skim over those titles that are geared specifically to kids, while silently pitying the parents who have to accompany their offspring to what I can only imagine is a semi-torturous two-hour babysitting session.

It's not the kids themselves that bother me. In fact, I usually get a little tearful when I see kids having a genuine reaction to what they're seeing onscreen. My real problem is the cranky old lady who's lived inside me since I was a kid myself. I simply don't have patience for the inanity of the onscreen antics cobbled together to cater to short attention spans: fart jokes, bonks on heads, corny kindergarten-level life lessons, etc.

These kinds of movies are easily avoidable for a "civilian" without kids. But for a film critic, it isn't always so easy. Still, I'm a professional and capable of applying my critical skills to a film of any type, right? Sure, but it seems unfair to apply my perspective--one that is severely lacking in little kid input--to a movie that has no intention of pleasing an audience member like me. I have no clue what little kids like. What might scare them. Or what a parent might find unacceptable. What could I possibly add to what a gazillion mommy bloggers and "pro-family" movie review sites already do so effectively?

When I try to tap into my own preferences as a child, I go straight to Mary Poppins, Sound of Music, Annie and the Muppet movies (yes, I'm pumped for Jason Segal's Muppet reboot in November) -- all classics that most adults would enjoy on their own. But you would never have caught me at a "My Little Pony" kind of flick back then. And certainly not today.

But I have no problem getting excited about and reviewing movies geared for kids and adults. You know, a Pixar movie. So I happily included "Cars 2" on my review list for June, and even signed on for an interview with one of the film's directing animators, a San Diego native with a darn cool success story.

I'm not gonna lie, I was expecting greatness. How could I not after the phenomenal run Pixar's had over the last 15 years, culminating in one of the best films of 2010, "Toy Story 3" (my original review here).

Unfortunately, what "Cars 2" delivered was strictly for kids. True, its animation was top notch, but the goofy antics took center stage over story and character. And the character they chose to focus on, Mater, drove me up the wall. Yes, it's true. The Pixar streak (at least for grown-ups) is over.

You can read my "Cars 2" review here and my interview with Pixar animator Victor Navone here.

If you do end up taking your little ones to see it, do me a favor and tell me what THEY thought (and what you thought as well). Consider it field research as a favor. Or dump the kids at the cineplex and rush over to Landmark Hillcrest to catch "Buck," "Midnight in Paris," or even the quirky "Submarine" (my review here). Don't worry, I won't tell.

Whatever you do, enjoy your weekend.

My man "Buck"

I've always said that if I didn't have kids, I would get a horse. The reaction I get to this statement is usually a laugh, like I'm joking, or just an expression of polite confusion followed by a change of subject. But as the new documentary "Buck" (opening Friday at Landmark Hillcrest) recently reminded me, the relationship between human and horse is no joke.

OK, maybe it's not the same as hearing your pudgy baby say her first words, but it can be a meaningful --- sometimes life-saving---bond for human and creature alike. At least for people like me and, of course, for horse training guru Buck Brannaman.

Growing up, I was never one of those over-the-top "horse girls." No horsey clothing in my closet or pony posters on my wall. But I had a few friends like that and knowing them gave me the chance to interact with horses more than once a year at camp. I spent one summer shoveling manure at some local stables in exchange for free riding lessons (English, blech). And when I moved to New York City for college, I often took little field trips to Central Park South just so I could pet the carriage horses and spend the rest of the afternoon smelling their dusty odor on my hands -- and loving every whiff.

But what topped it all was the brief but blissful six months in middle school when I co-owned a horse with my best friend. Perhaps I've romanticized it a little, but my memories of rushing to the stables after school, throwing a pad on Tess' back, and galloping through the nearby field was the closest thing to total freedom and pure joy I could ever imagine.

Yet, I could never really articulate to people why I would be OK with a horse as my Plan B. I haven't had contact with one in any meaningful way in over a decade and, if you look at my life today,  you'd think I was more capable of becoming a crazy dog lady than a horse fanatic. So what makes me so sure that horse ownership would satisfy me on such a deep level?

Twenty minutes into "Buck" and, for the first time in my life, I truly understood. Horses help you to see--and maybe even heal--yourself. They're majestic, intelligent creatures. They're also instinctively fearful and, if that fear is allowed to fester, can become dangerous.

In Buck's case, he lost his mother as a boy and suffered extreme physical abuse at the hand of his father. As a young man, he was crippled with fear, unable to trust and terrified to interact with others. When he got in a ring with an unbroken horse, he immediately recognized and remembered that instinct to flinch, defend, run.

This understanding is what makes Buck the legendary "horse whisperer" that he is (yes, he was an advisor on the Robert Redford film). He's not training them, he's teaching them to trust. This method doesn't require a whip, but an energy, a stance, maybe a flick of the wrist. In a sense, he is re-parenting himself in each exchange. Whatever it is he's doing it worked, because Buck Brannaman appears to be the most peaceful, accepting, well-adjusted man I've ever come across.

He's also married (darn) and a giving father to his teenage daughter who, of course, adores and respects him. And they live in Montana (CORRECTION: they live in Wyoming, but much of the film takes place in Montana), a state I have never been to but, after seeing this breathtakingly picturesque film, I plan on visiting as soon as possible. (I watched the film on DVD but plan to see it again on the big screen, and you should too.) When I get there, it will take every ounce of restraint not to show up at his front door and beg him to marry me. Or adopt me. Whatever he prefers.

While I certainly didn't have a childhood as traumatic as Buck's, I faced unique challenges in my youth that made life rather unpredictable and sometimes scary. As I grew up, my generalized fear displayed itself as nervous, defensive energy -- a quality shared by just about every horse Buck works with in the film. I've known this about myself for awhile, but it wasn't until I experienced this film that I really understood why I'm so drawn to horses, and why I could accept caring for one as a second-best alternative to having my own family.

First-time director Cindy Meehl's documentary follows Buck on his grueling travels across the country, leading what feel like self-help seminars for human and horse. He also attracts crowds who pay good money just for the chance to see his graceful method in action. His students speak of him as if he's the Dalai Lama and, by the time the film came to a close, I felt the same way.

Don't worry, I'm not going to spend my life savings on a horse anytime soon -- I still haven't entirely given up on the baby/husband thing. While I try to figure that out, my relationship with my dog -- a Mexico rescue with plenty of baggage herself -- will have to suffice. While I'm no dog whisperer,  at this point I can pretty much lead her without more than a subtle request. If only I could saddle her up.

Legends on the Line: Interview with J.J. Abrams and Review of "Super 8"

You know you're having a strange Sunday morning when your telephone conversation with J.J. Abrams about working with Steven Spielberg is interrupted by a call from Spielberg himself. Lucky for me, Abrams took the call while leaving me on the line, able to hear at least one side of their conversation.



It wasn't anything juicy; mostly about how things were going during the lead-up to the release of the Abrams' new film "Super 8," produced by Spielberg and very much in the style that made him a filmmaking icon.

But the distinctive shift in Abrams' demeanor -- from subdued, serious director to overeager, young filmmaker practically jumping out of his skin when his childhood idol called to say hi -- was all I needed to get just how sincere Abrams is in his tribute to Spielberg throughout "Super 8." It was also pretty damn cool for a nosy girl like me.

Read more of my interview with J.J. Abrams and also my review of "Super 8."

I'm moving this weekend so I'll be taking next week off. But if you need another recommendation to tide you over til then, I enthusiastically point you to Woody Allen's "Midnight in Paris." Simply delightful --especially for nostalgia whores like me.

If you are a Terrence Malick fan, you probably already have plans to see "Tree of Life," out this weekend in San Diego. While I was intrigued by its visual poetry, I couldn't help but think that the film thinks it's deeper than it actually is. But with a filmmaker like Malick, who takes years to assemble his thoughtful work, I absolutely owe it a second viewing. Especially after the treat of seeing his 1978 masterpiece "Days of Heaven" on the big screen for the first time last weekend (thanks Reading Cinemas and KPBS' Beth Accomando for making that happen!). I could've watched that movie for days.

The Greatest Movie Ever Sold: Review (2 1/2 stars), Interview with Morgan Spurlock

I've never been one for approaching celebrities I encounter "in the wild." I mean, really --what could I possibly say to them that would make me any different than some other slobbering fan? "I like your movies." Duh. "You were really good in X." Double duh.

When it comes to interviewing them, it's not even a question. We're both there to do a job. Get in, ask your questions, get your answers, get on with your day.

But when it came time for me to interview filmmaker Morgan Spurlock about his new documentary "POM Wonderful Presents: The Greatest Movie Ever Sold," I threw my point-and-shoot camera in my purse alongside my notepad and had no problem asking for a snapshot of the two of us post-interview.

Why? Well, of course I'm a fan. How can you not be? He's charming, clever, and willing to challenge mainstream thinking. I loved "Super Size Me" but was an even bigger fan of his TV series "30 Days." If this was my only motivation, I'd still keep my mouth shut and go about my business asking questions and trying to get him to say something, anything, he hasn't already said in the countless interviews he's done over the last month.

The reason I happily packed my camera and captured this poolside snapshot? The logo-covered suit of course. He's a walking billboard--and an extremely enthusiastic one at that--and what kind of billboard asks you to respect its privacy?

Here's my interview with Spurlock about his very meta experiment in making a documentary about marketing and advertising by funding his entire film with marketing and advertising. And then find out what I thought the film in my review, out today.

And by all means, go out and enjoy an ice cold glass of anti-oxidant rich POM Wonderful, would ya?

"Hanna": Review (3 stars) and Interview with Director Joe Wright

I wasn't expecting much for my interview with "Hanna" director Joe Wright. Not only was he almost 30 minutes late (a radio interview ran long), but he was clearly exhausted by the time he shook my hand and collapsed onto his chair.

But even through the exhaustion (a one-month old baby and a hefty promotion schedule are the likely culprits), the British director impressed me with his clarity of vision, passion and--most of all--feminist perspective. Not to mention the easy job I had of transcribing the interview due to his British mannerisms full of polite qualifiers and other Hugh Grant-ish verbal fillers. 

Photo: San Diego Union-Tribune/Peggy Peattie

You can read my interview with Wright here. I think you'll be impressed with him too. (I was even more pleased when Wright went public with his criticism of the portrayal of women in the marketing campaign for Zack Snyder's "Sucker Punch," a movie I simply refused to see for that very same reason.)

Then read my review of "Hanna," Wright's fairy tale action movie starring his teenage muse Saoirse Ronan (the Oscar nominated young star from "Atonement").

I also caught "Your Highness" this week, hoping for a much needed laugh. I got a few but not nearly as many as I expected (I could count the seconds in every scene where opportunities for humor were missed). Still, you won't hear too much complaining from me when James Franco and Natalie Portman are on screen - even when they're sharing that screen time with a graphic depiction of minotaur penis. Yes, you read that right. Minotaur penis.

Enjoy your weekend!

"Win Win" interview, review (3 stars); Source Code (2 1/2 stars)

The last two weeks have been jampacked with press tours and I'm heading out the door for yet another, this time with Morgan Spurlock, director of the new doc "Pom Wonderful Presents: The Greatest Movie Ever Sold." That story will run April 22, along with my review of the film.

But in today's paper is my interview with writer/director Tom McCarthy and the teenage wrestler, Alex Shaffer, who stars alongside Paul Giamatti in the new film "Win Win."  Both were a delight to interview and I was struck by the relationship between the novice actor and the director--also a working actor who's known for being tough on his performers. Read the full story here and my review of the film here.

I also reviewed "Source Code" this week, the new Duncan Jones-directed film starring one of my celebrity crushes, Jake Gyllenhaal. Read my review here.

Next week, my interview with "Hanna" director, Joe Wright.

Happy weekend!

Reviews: Jane Eyre (3 stars); I Am (2 1/2 stars)

If you're as emotionally beaten up as I am by the happenings in the world over the last week -- the disaster in Japan, the House's anti-NPR bill, the draconian cuts to education and social programs in California (including my full-time employer UC), and more I can't bring myself to think of -- then the two films I reviewed this week might serve you well.

The dreamy Michael Fassbender as
Edward Rochester in "Jane Eyre"

First, find comfort in the familiar with the umpteenth film adaptation of "Jane Eyre." With so much unforeseen devastation in real life, sometimes it's nice to know exactly who is hidden in the attic. But still, director Cary Fukunaga's version stands on its own and is certainly worth a trip to the theater (Michael Fassbender's jawline alone is worth the price of admission). My full review here.

Director Tom Shadyac (left) and
Archbishop Desmond Tutu in "I Am"

If you're feeling lost, ashamed of the direction this country is taking, or just in the mood to reflect on the bigger themes of life, there's Tom Shadyac's philosophical treatise of a documentary, "I Am." It's not the best or deepest bit of filmmaking I've seen, but the "kumbayah" ideas he brings to the table go down as easy as mom's homemade chicken soup during times such as these. My review here.

Whatever it is you do this weekend, make it a safe and peaceful one.

Reviews: The Last Lions (4 stars); Of Gods & Men (4 stars)

Movies can seem rather trivial when compared to the disaster in Japan, but I'm relieved to say I've been in communication with my dear friend in Tokyo who is "shaken, but not stirred." His reports of the experience are frightening however and I wish him, the people of Japan, and everyone else in the wake of the resulting tsunami (maybe us?) well.

It's appropriate then that both the films I'm talking about today tackle serious, or at least contemplative, subjects--endangered lions in Africa ("The Last Lions") and endangered monks in Algeria ("Of Gods and Men").

I was privileged to be able to sit down for an hour-long conversation with filmmakers and National Geographic Explorers-in-Residence Dereck and Beverly Joubert, whose film "The Last Lions" left me a blubbering mess. They apologized in good humor when I told them that the film, at times, felt like "Schindler's List" for animals, but I insisted that it was worth every tear. You can see why in my review of the film.

But the best part was talking to this incredibly serene (and impossibly attractive) couple about their lives in the bush, where they've happily made camp for the past 28 years, their experiences in such close proximity to these breathtaking lions, and their own emotional response to what they witnessed during the filming of this incredible documentary. I could've written another 5,000 words about them (and then snuck into their suitcase for their return to Botswana), but had to whittle it down to a newspaper-sized story. I hope you'll read it.

I also strongly encourage you get to the theater to see "Of Gods and Men," a beautiful portrait of brotherhood, faith, community and duty, directed by Xavier Beauvois. If you told me that I would walk out of the theater with a complete understanding why someone would opt for the quiet life of a Trappist monk in a small Algerian village, I would've said you were insane. But regardless of your feelings about religion, this incredibly acted ensemble film will take you to this place and leave you with complete acceptance of the choices and actions this close community of men take in the face of danger from a terrorist insurgence in their village. It's a peaceful, patient film and it's in French. See it. It should have won the foreign language Oscar, or at least have been nominated!

Have a safe and peaceful weekend all.

Teenage Filmmakers, Latino Film and Monopoly? You Bet!

I'm happy to say that I have three LOCAL film-related stories in today's Union-Tribune. San Diego may be just a short drive away from Los Angeles (well, short in theory), but there are people--very sane ones, in opinion--who are making careers for themselves right here. You'll find all my articles of this nature in the Feature Articles section on the left side of this blog.

But to get right to it, here's what you'll find in today's paper:

Photo: San Diego Union-Tribune

"Life Through a Teenage Lens," a profile of the San Diego Media Arts Center's Teen Producers Project, now in its 10th year.








Highlights from the 18th Annual San Diego Latino Film Festival, which runs March 10-20 at UltraStar Cinemas in Mission Valley (and is produced by the SD Media Arts Center). More at sdlatinofilm.com

Review of  "Under the Boardwalk: The Monopoly Story," a documentary produced by San Diego filmmakers Kevin Tostado and Craig Bentley, which opens today (March 4) at UltraStar Cinemas in Mission Valley.

Now get out there and support our local filmmakers - and have a happy weekend!