(A day later than usual — apologies.)
After the London Film Festival raised its curtain last night with a typically flashy European premiere for Mark Romanek’s “Never Let Me Go,” this morning’s papers and breakfast TV reports have been busy with chatter about what Britfilm’s two it-girls, Carey Mulligan and Keira Knightley, were wearing; how the next Spider-Man (that is, The Artist Formerly Known As Andrew Garfield) is settling into his red-carpet duties; and what the whole event promises about the beleaguered British film industry’s ability to, well, throw fancy parties.
Something far fewer people have been talking about, however, is the film itself. That’s no great surprise: after securing eagerly awaited world premieres — “Frost/Nixon” and “Fantastic Mr. Fox” — for their last two opening nights, London fest organizers dropped the ball slightly by picking a film that bowed at Toronto last month and has already opened in the States. You can’t expect the same level of excitement for a gift that has already been opened by someone else, even if the ribbon has been retied.
Still, the air surrounding “Never Let Me Go” was not merely one of used goods, but of damaged goods at that: yesterday morning’s press screening was characterized by a near-palpable cloud of lowered expectations, as tepid-to-respectable reviews and fizzling box-office from across the pond foretold a high-class shrug of a movie. “That’s going to get Oscar nominations?” a critic in the row behind me asked as the end credits rolled; his tone translated the question as, “Yeah, good luck with that.”
In a slight rarity, the year’s Best Supporting Actor category reflected the Screen Actors Guild nominees 100% this season. Nominations for Alfred Molina and Alec Baldwin at the BAFTA Awards weren’t enough to generate enough cross-over support, while Christian McKay’s late surge couldn’t get him there, either.
Assembling the assets for my annual take on the best single shots of the year was more of a chore this time around than ever. Perhaps one need only look to a lackluster list of Oscar nominees in the Best Cinematography category to gauge just how underwhelming much of the work behind the camera was in 2009. In fact, just one shot from a film shortlisted by the Academy in the field showed up on the list.
This, ladies and gentlemen, will be the last Long Shot column I write before the 2009 Academy Award nominations are announced, and it’s not just because it’s the column’s 17th week that the well of subject matter is looking rather dry.
*All historical figures cited are adjusted to
*All historical figures cited are adjusted to
Alright, now that the booze and the hangover have worn off, let’s talk last night’s Critics’ Choice Movie Awards.
•
I’ve had my eye on these because I’ve always felt that, if
Steve Pond
Happy New Year!
In the last week or two, the buzz for Rob Marshall’s
“It might as well rain until September,” wrote Carole King in her jaunty 1960s ditty of that title, an ode to summertime breakup blues that may as well have been composed for the autumnally-activated awards season. Swap September for December, and you have an apt description of the approach many studios and Oscar-watchers alike take to the race — a short-memory mentality that I argued against in a column almost