As I type, I'm desperately trying to dislodge a piece of popcorn kernel from between my teeth. It hurts, but I suppose it's a small price to pay for the 11 hours of entertainment I enjoyed today at my local AMC Theater, where my friend Chris and I took part in the AMC Best Picture Showcase.
For those of you who are unfamiliar, for the past five years AMC Theaters has put on an all-day film festival where they show all of the films nominated for Best Picture at the Oscars. Since the Academy recently increased the number of nominees from five to ten, some markets split the event over the course of two days, which is what they're doing in Detroit.
I had previously seen six of the ten nominated films, and three of those were only on poor quality bootleg, so I was excited not only to see the four films I hadn't seen at all, but also the ones I hadn't seen on the big screen yet.
Two-day passes are only $60, and with that you not only get access to all ten pictures, but a nifty little lanyard, $20 worth of AMC giftcards ($10 per day), and a theater-sized poster featuring artwork from all ten nominees. I was hoping for something on the artistic side, but was disappointed to find it was little more than cutting and pasting smaller pictures of each film's individual poster, but I suppose I can't complain since it was free.
This being a long event and showcasing films that aren't necessarily part of the mainstream moviegoer's interest level, I was hoping it would be free of douchebaggery. Alas, one can never be free of such things because douchebags breed like roaches, and as a result, we were subjected to their antics, which included laughing at totally inappropriate scenes (because they're so cool), being extremely homophobic (look, it's OK if you have questions about your own sexuality; you don't have to fight it - there's no judgment in the theater), sneaking alcohol into the theater, and becoming progressively more obnoxious as the films went on by talking louder and gesticulating. In the immortal words of Pam Grier as Jackie Brown, "Shut your raggedy ass up, and sit the fuck down!"
Douchebaggery aside, the biggest problem of the day came from the quality of the prints shown. Two films looked like they'd been handled by a badger, with deep, prevalent, and constant scratches, and all the films suffered from occasional color problems, and large amounts of dust and dirt. It makes a strong case for AMC Theaters to go all-digital, because the event itself is excellent and well-organized, but it was slightly marred by the picture quality problems.
Bearing that in mind, I don't want to give the impression that it in any way ruined the experience. Truly, it was an absolute blast and I cannot recommend it enough if you're a movie buff. Hopefully AMC will strive to continue improving the experience, and the turn-out warrants doing so.
The event kicked off right at 11 AM with Toy Story 3, the final chapter in Pixar's incredible CG saga. Though it may seem out of place in a list of movies that includes a guy who cuts his own arm off, a film about a lesbian couple raising children, a gritty western, and a docu-drama about a Massachusetts boxer with an overbearing mother and a crackhead brother, Toy Story 3 resonates with emotion. Sure, it's laugh-out-loud funny at parts, but I've hardly met anyone who's seen it and not been moved to the point of tears by its poignant ending.
Up next was 127 Hours, the true story of mountaineer Aron Ralston who became trapped by a rock in Bluejohn Canyon in Utah. James Franco, who has already proven his meddle with critically acclaimed performances in films such as Milk, gives a one-man tour de force performance. Though described by one foolish viewer as "Castaway without Wilson," 127 Hours is an intense and inspirational experience. The scenes where Franco speaks into the camera, lamenting on his own selfishness and expressing his regrets, are heart-wrenching, to say nothing of the now famous amputation scene.
Though the scene is intense, it's as tastefully shot as someone amputating their own arm with a dull pocket knife can be. Danny Boyle's direction is as artful as ever, contrasting scenes of extremely beautiful vistas with Franco's intense, emotional whirlwind of a performance, and by the end of the picture you can't help but feel uplifted by the fact that Ralston survived through sheer force of will. It's a true testament to the power of the human spirit.
After such a heavy movie, The Kids Are All Right brings some light relief. A drama at heart, punctuated by moments of levity, the film tells the story of a lesbian couple and their children who, unbenownst to their parents, have sought out their biological father. Annette Bening and Julianne Moore both give incredibly strong performances, which isn't surprising from Bening at all, but Moore came as a huge shock to me. I've never been much of a fan, apart from her role in The Big Lebowski, but upon seeing The Kids Are All Right I couldn't help but wonder why Bening was nominated for Best Actress, but Moore was not. Mark Ruffalo, who was also nominated for Best Supporting Actor, gives arguably the best performance of his career as the somewhat hippie-like sperm donor, being equally likable and annoying.
After an hour break for dinner, where we enjoyed some Piping Hot Arby's, things resumed with Chris' favorite picture of the year, the Coen Brothers' retelling of Charles Portis' novel, True Grit. Originally made into a feature film in the late sixties with John Wayne, the Coen Brothers' version retains the same basic plot from both the novel and the film, but is decidedly...more Coen-esque. Laced with some sharp humor, particular from Jeff Bridges as the one-eyed drunken US Marshall Reuben "Rooster" Cogburn, and a few scenes of gritty violence, True Grit is an interesting film to be sure. It doesn't stand up as well to some of the Coens' other work, such as the Oscar-winner No Country For Old Men, but it has a decidedly similar style and tone. As impressive as Bridges is, 14-year-old Hailee Steinfeld's performance has earned her a head-scratching Best Supporting Actress nomination. This is puzzling, to say the least, as she is the film's main character - the one whom the entire story revolves around, as she hires Cogburn to exact vengeance on the man who killed her father. How this doesn't warrant a Best Actress nomination is beyond me, as there is hardly a scene she does not appear in, nor indeed steal the show. Though she is pushy and obnoxious at times, Mattie as played by Steinfeld is stout and determined, even in the face of danger, and is a tough negotiator.
Equally impressive is Matt Damon, who shows more of his versatility as Texas Ranger LeBoeuf. Self-assured and hot-tempered, LeBoeuf takes quite a beating throughout the course of the film, but ultimately shows his heroism, and Damon's performance is outstanding.
The final picture of the evening was Darren O. Russell's The Fighter. Based on the true story of boxers "Irish" Micky Ward and his brother Dicky Eklund, The Fighter captures the drama of Ward's chaotic relationship with his family, and the excitement of his real-life boxing matches. The fight scenes in the film were choreographed to perfection using the actual broadcasts as references, and Ward's real-life trainer, Mickey O'Keefe, actually appears as himself in the film. Amy Adams breaks from her usual upbeat, lighthearted roles to play the tough-nosed Charlene, a beautiful bartender who drives a wedge between Ward and his overbearing family members, most of whom seem more concerned with Dicky's long-past fame than with Micky's career. It's great to see Adams branch out, and despite her beauty, her face shows her resolve as she tries to help Micky out from under his mother's thumb and she demonstrates that she can play tough characters very well.
Mark Wahlberg gives a fine performance as Ward, but it's Christian Bale who absolutely steals the show with yet another in a long line of incredible performances. Few actors dedicate themselves to their craft the way Bale does. His profanity-laden rant on the set of Terminator: Salvation may have been YouTube gold, but his work always speaks for itself and The Fighter is no exception. Eklund, a former boxer who coasts on his historic knockdown of Sugar Ray Leonard, has devolved into a crack addict with delusions of grandeur, and Bale looks the part. Though he still shows some muscle, Bale once again lost a significant amount of weight for the role (though not nearly as much as his famously emaciated appearance in The Machinist), and he pulls off Eklund's Massachusetts accent with near perfection, as evidenced by the footage of a much older Eklund and Ward during the film's credits. The way I see it, he's a shoe-in for Best Supporting Actor.
After 11 hours in a movie theater, you would think I would be suffering from a severe case of ass fatigue, not to mention a sore back, but surprisingly (and amazingly) I feel neither. In fact, I feel like I could have sat through a 24-hour marathon of all ten films, which some markets were lucky enough to get. Now that it's over, I cannot wait to go back for the final five nominees next week, including Winter's Bone, Black Swan, Inception, The Social Network, and The King's Speech.
