The MacGuffin

Year in and year out, whenever I am revising my worst-of list, I usually notice that the majority of the filth is made up of someone’s poor definition of comedy. Though I certainly have a standard for what I consider to be a good movie, I am open to watching a good-bad-movie every now and then. Cheesy science fiction and horror will always have a place for well-intentioned irony, as proven by years of the successful heckling of Mystery Science Theater 3000. But for me, a bad comedy is unbearable and unwatchable under any circumstance. What makes it worse is that a lot of the time these movies are not only tolerated, but genuinely enjoyed by less-than-discerning general audiences. Films like last year’s Jack and Jill or The Hangover 2 were box office successes and further proof of the end of civilization.

Some movies beg to be compared; others demand to go mano-a-mano. Who am I to resist this challenge? It turns out Bette Davis made not one, but two, movies where she plays twins: A Stolen Life and Dead Ringer. In both movies, one twin dies and the other takes over her life. Each movie is great, but which one is better? Read on and see!

“Off the record, on the QT, and very hush-hush.”

So says reporter Sid Hudgens (Danny DeVito) at the end each of his articles in the tabloid paper Hush-Hush. While Sid works as a supporting character in Curtis Hanson’s masterful crime drama L.A. Confidential (1997), his part is essential in establishing and maintaining the tone and style of the piece. There is a reason why Sid is the main narrator, setting up the story and guiding us through its intricate twists. He is representative of the ever-growing fascination the public has with scandal and sleaze news, especially when it deals with the glitz and glamour of 1950s Hollywood. While that kind of journalism seems to dominate mainstream media today, Sid is a symbol of its birth. In a time when Hollywood and the movie industry were in their so-called “golden age,” this movie peers beneath those layers toward its seedy underbelly in gritty fashion.

Ok, fine. I admit it. I watch the Twilight movies and enjoy myself. I know I should be ashamed, but I’m really not. (That is a horrendous lie. Whenever my friend Sarah outs me on Facebook, I get all snippy with her. She just has no shame.) They are kind of horrible, but they are also awesome. I like over-the-top craziness, and these films deliver in that area. I also enjoy a dramatic teen romance, bad acting, and adult men pretending to be teenagers that sparkle. What’s not to like here? On occasion, I have been genuinely moved, relived some of my own teenage feelings, and teared up. Twilight has a lot of haters, but the films still keep getting watched, so they must be offering up something that some girls and women want.

The annual festival of Hollywood-types congratulating each other for their ability to play make-believe really well while flaunting a garish display of uniquely American excess is rapidly approaching. Of course I’m talking about the annual Academy Awards. As a concept, and looking at the amount of import it is often met with, the entire affair can be seen as somewhat ludicrous. Wealthy people handing out statues while displaying millions of dollars in gowns, tuxedos, and jewelry can be seen as paling in comparison to really important things. Teachers, firefighters, doctors, nurses, social workers, Peace Corps volunteers, parents, and thousands of others toil away in professions that, it can be argued, deserve much more praise. They do REALLY impactful work for far less/no money with often little thanks. So yes, the Oscars can be seen as yet another example of our out of whack priorities. Much like the carnival that surrounds sports figures or models or reality TV stars or musicians, the Oscars elevate a group that already gets plenty of rewards for their toils.

Despite all of that, I love them anyway.

Well, what a weak year it has been. Not that there haven’t been movies and performances that I have liked, but nothing is easy to point to and say: “this is a great piece of cinema that deserve accolades and will be talked about years from now.” The Academy has done little to help here, with many random—and, in some cases, dismal—nomination choices. But still, they have to give these awards to someone. So, here are my guesses and personal choices for the Academy Awards.

The MacGuffin crew discuss My Week With Marilyn, from director Simon Curtis and starring Michelle Williams & Kenneth Branagh. This roundtable features special guest Aaron Roden from The Air Raid Podcast.

This episode can be played online via the flash player below or it can be downloaded from here. It is also available on iTunes, Stitcher, and Zune.

A year before he directed All About Eve, Joseph L. Mankiewicz made , which landed him the Oscar for best director and best screenplay. It unabashedly falls within the category of Woman’s Picture, as it deals with the nature of female rivalries and how they can affect marriage. Three women—Deborah Bishop, Lora Mae Hollingsway, and Rita Phipps—constantly compare themselves to Addie Ross, a longtime friend and rival. By doing so, the women cause the weaknesses in their marriages to grow until the possibility of failure seems likely.

As the tagline says: Aura would like you to know that she’s having a very, very hard time. The main character of the indie comedy Tiny Furniture (2010)—played by writer-director Lena Dunham—has just graduated college with a major in film theory, moved back in with her mother and teenage sister, and seems to have no idea what to do with herself. There are worse places to have no idea what to do with yourself than your mother’s incredible New York City loft, but I can still relate to Aura’s ennui. I graduated college with a major in English, moved back in with my mother (not in an incredible New York City loft) and proceeded to spend a year working about 15 hours a week at my old summer job, sending my resume out to a lot of people who preferred not to ever respond, and watching all seven seasons of Gilmore Girls holed up in my tiny bedroom. It can be a rough time.

What is in a look, a stare, or a knowing glance? What is an emotion? Ideally in film, emotions should be expressed in actions, since it’s a medium of moving pictures and all. However, over the decades directors have struggled to define the actor’s interior sense without words to do some of the heavy lifting. A long time ago, in the 1920s and before, sound and words were not taken for granted. The silent film era is still considered one of the most important, not only because they were the ones who were still making all the rules, but because they had to work within their limitations. Besides the obvious technological disadvantages, the actors had to come up with ways of showing emotion and moving a scene along with just their actions and expressions. Some of these now-silly acting techniques were acquired by overly melodramatic theater and have since been seen as a dated way to build a character. But perhaps there is something to be said for being able to get a scene from point A to point B without ever saying a word.