Venice Film Festival
An uncharacteristically dark Venetian downpour greeted this morning’s premiere screening of “Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy,” and if some flashbulbs of lightning last night hadn’t already previewed the turn in weather, I’d suspect the pervasively, necessarily drab atmospherics of Tomas Alfredson’s artful John le Carré adaptation of bleeding out from the screen and into the beyond.
Looking for all the world as if the print has been stewed in black tea before being left to gather a few months’ worth of dust in the projection room — and that’s a good thing, I hasten to add — the film proves a happy marriage between two very different brands of understated precision: the British scholarliness of le Carré’s dense espionage lore and the icier Scandinavian calm that Alfredson brought to his breakout vampire drama, “Let the Right One In.”
In many ways, Alfredson directs le Carré’s self-described “little gray men” of Britain’s MI6 intelligence service as they are themselves vampires of the Cold War: lurking in irremovable half-light, striking efficiently and selectively, and only notionally acquainted with the concept of sunlight, these thickly-tweeded spies appear to bear the burden of their profession as a lifelong alibi for the avoidance of intimacy, social functionality and even standard-issue conversation.
Dear James,
Welcome to Oscar Talk.
Steven Spielberg couldn’t have put it more concisely during his presentation of the Best Picture category last night. To paraphrase, he noted that whichever films did not happen to win Best Picture this year would join the ranks of numerous classics of the medium.
Yesterday was a bit of a whirlwind. The Indie Spirits was a lovely affair, though they really need to figure out the show aspect because it kind of fell apart this year. I didn’t see it on television so maybe it was edited into shape, but in the room, it just felt like chaos.
The 2010 Best Actor race looks to end up exactly where it started, making it the most predictable category of the evening. In fact, as of late (save for the two Oscars Sean Penn won), this has consistently been one of the easier categories to call. Generally it seems that there is a clear favorite christened before the season is over.
I had more interesting things to do at the Berlinale this evening than watch the BAFTAs, so the only commentary I can offer is on the winners list itself. And, well, it doesn’t make for terribly exciting reading. To the surprise of precisely no one, 
In the 10 years since they moved up in the calendar to pre-Oscar status, the BAFTAs have hovered uncertainly between complying with awards trends across the pond, thereby establishing themselves as a viable precursor, and stubbornly standing by their own – as in 2007, when they opted out of the Coen Brothers-P.T. Anderson faceoff by picking
By having separate categories for British films and individuals — though Brits compete in the general awards too — the London Film Critics’ Circle Awards generally get to have their cake and eat it. So it was this year: 
Last night saw Santa Barbara’s tribute to 
Well, if you didn’t get the message after last night’s DGA result, SAG’s Best Ensemble award just underlined it for you — the Best Picture race is over. In the 16 years that the three Guilds have co-existed, only one film has taken the big prize from the DGA, PGA and SAG and not won the Best Picture Oscar — and
This weekend completes the trio of Guild awards with the most bearing on the Best Picture race, as the Directors’ Guild of America and the Screen Actors’ Guild dish out their prizes on Saturday and Sunday, respectively.
Did you hear? The Oscar nominations were announced this morning. And there was a lot to chew on. (And boy can we be grateful for that.)
After taking a 