Sure, that Cecil B. DeMille Award at the upcoming Golden Globes is nice enough, but this is the greater honour. Robert De Niro has been selected as the president of the competition jury at this year’s Cannes Film Festival in May — the third time this most European of festivals has tapped an American for the job in four years. (Tim Burton did the honors last year, Sean Penn in 2008.)
For the past two years, the eventual Palme d’Or winner has seemingly, if not necessarily, borne the fingerprints of the jury president. Isabelle Huppert handed the prize to her friend and collaborator Michael Haneke in 2009 (and took a lot less stick for it than Quentin Tarantino did for rewarding his ex at Venice last year).
Burton’s reign, meanwhile, culminated in the unusual occurrence of a fantasy film (“Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives”) taking the gold. De Niro somehow seems likely to wield a less assertive stamp on the proceedings, though you never know until the post-fest gossip starts leaking out.
The immediately striking thing about
First a big thank you to everyone who participated in Monday’s 
The USC Libraries Scripter Award is an annual honor (now in its 23rd year) in recognition of “the best adaptation of the printed word into film.” It is one of the more unique awards along the circuit as it is not only awarded to the screenwriter but the source material’s author, as well.
As we await the USC Scripter finalists (which should drop any minute), I should pass along the Academy’s bake-off finalists in the Best Visual Effects category.
As you may have noticed, my long-delayed 
Sony Pictures Classics was smart enough to recognize that Robert Duvall could use his hands and feet in cement over at Grauman’s Chinese Theatre, a generally political honor (much like stars on the Hollywood Walk of Fame) that only happens when someone thinks it’s worth it to rally the money together.
What kind of year was 2010 at the movies? You tell me. It’s virtually impossible to find one yardstick to measure 365 days of cinema for a collective audience whose interests seem ever more segregated.
With precisely three weeks to go until Oscar nomination morning, we continue to flag up worthy work from 2010’s first half, much of it lost (or, indeed, never present) amid the crush of more recent awards contenders. You know the January-to-June drill by now: beyond that, we can get as far-fetched as we like.
The London Evening Standard Awards, a particularly bijou set of critics’ honors reserved for British titles and talent, tend to swerve a little left of the expected — chosen as they are by a jury of six disparate, but equally opinionated, critics. So it is this year: obviously
Just when we thought Mo’Nique was done with the season, she’s baaaack. The press release, in part: