Sorry, no podcast this week. Fab Bab Nancy has been off skiing the U.S. and Canadian Rockies. (Lucky woman!)

I, though, did get to a matinee with former AP journalist/current Sandia Prep teacher Joan Goessl. We saw "She's the Man," the teen comedy "inspired" by Shakespeare's "Twelfth Night."

Hey, it's spring break.

Viola (Amanda Bynes) masquerades as her twin brother, Sebastian, at his prep school so she can play soccer on the boys team and show all the guys at her old school how good she is. She falls for her hunky roommate, Duke (Channing Tatum), and has to fend off the desires of her biology lab partner, Olivia (Laura Ramsey). Teen angst, romance and impressive pecs ensue.

Predictable, yes, but Joan and I still enjoyed the movie. (Bynes has a great sense of physical comedy.) Even more, we enjoyed the troupe of midschool girls at the back of the theater. The girls swooned at almost every appearance of Tatum, and when a brief scene showed a motorbike behind him, one besotted voice cried out: "He has a motorcycle!"

Most of the time I hate any noise in a movie theater. This time, it was all's well that ends (in a) wail. (Well, I had to go for it.)

By the way, Joan and I agreed the boys in our high schools never looked like the chiseled lads in this film. Of course, we were in high school before personal trainers, steroids and Speedos.

Your turn: Have you seen the movie? How does it compare with other movies "inspired" by Shakespeare?

Posted by Barbara Page at 09:44 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Date night for the Shopes often involves dinner and a movie, especially on a "school night."
Last night, we tried Chow's Asian Bistro in Cottonwood Mall and then wandered over to the theater to see what was playing. Feeling a tinge of disappointment from both the crab-stuffed wontons and the selection at the Starport, we decided instead to head to our nearest Blockbuster and check out something that managed to escape a whole lot of hype.
It wasn't long before we settled on Liev Schreiber's adaptation of "Everything Is Illuminated".

My first thought these days about seeing Elijah Wood in anything is that I'll only see him as Frodo Baggins, all bug-eyed and worried and filthy.
In this movie, though, he looks more like his cannibal character from "Sin City" -- only, er, illuminated. (That is to say, he's cleaned up and wears glasses.)

In even speaking about "Illuminated," it would be easy to give away the subtle and important twists and turns it takes, which is the last thing I want to do, since it's what I loved most about the film.

Instead, I want your help. What are other movies you would recommend that have excellent twists, whether among characters, plots or themes? (Note: I can save you the trouble if you were going to recommend any of the following... I haven't seen these movies, but several friends and movie-ruiners have already told me the ends of "Fight Club," "Identity" and "Seven.")

Posted by Tamara Shope at 10:14 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

This Mexican movie is a slow take on a Sunday afternoon in a suburban-tacky, high-rise apartment -- and it's a sheer delight.

Think "Y Tu Mama Tambien: The Wonder Years."

Two 14-year-olds (Daniel Miranda, Diego Catano) turn into slack-jawed mutes when a rolling blackout zaps their video game.

But there's a comely, 16-year-old neighbor (Danny Perea) in the kitchen, and at the door is the nerdy pizza guy (Enrique Arreola).

Lessons about competition, sexual attraction, dislocation and failed meringues await. Not to mention the mutual yearning to be one of the ducks flying away in the off-the-rack painting that hangs over the TV.

The movie, written and directed by Fernando Eimbcke, is filmed in black and white. It's an interesting choice given that key elements depend on the color of one boy's hair and the color of candy. Fortunately, the B&W spares us the brief, bloody color of remembered carcasses at a dog pound.

Indies like this usually don't hang around for long, although the ticket seller at High Ridge assured me it would stay for two weeks. (It's also playing at Century Downtown.) So scoot on over. This movie deserves all the buzz it can get.

Posted by Barbara Page at 12:41 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

College basketball's March Madness is at full tilt.
You could check out the predictable "Hoosiers" (1986), about small-town hoops.
Or you could bounce along to the on-screen lyrics of "Wig in the Box" in the randy, dandy "Hedwig and the Angry Inch" (2001).
This transsexual, rock band musical is about the American dream, via the Berlin Wall, botched surgery, larcenous love and a wild tour of tatty restaurants.
No, there's not a basketball court in sight. But "Hedwig" is a mighty 3-pointer: irreverent, intriguing and rollicking.

Posted by Barbara Page at 10:55 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Do you think movie blogs skip over the movies you liked, the movies pushed aside by critics as, well, dumb?
Here's your chance.
Tell us what you saw this weekend. Hooked on "Larry the Cable Guy" ? Tell us. Dead scared at "Stay Alive"? Tell us. Romanced by "Date Movie"? Tell us.
You be the critic.
(And if you saw a dog, we want to know that, too. Speak!)

Posted by Barbara Page at 02:22 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Hi, the rockin' Nancy and Barbara here. This week we saw "Neil Young: Heart of Gold," Jonathan Demme's concert movie of the aging -- but ageless -- performer. Catch us here.

Posted by Barbara Page at 01:02 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Art at its best. That's what "V for Vendetta" is, in this moviegoers' inflated opinion. It's entertaining and exciting and completely mind-bending. And if you can sit through this flick without reflecting deeply on the state of our country and the motivations behind the people running it, then wow, good for you.

This is a comic-book story about terrorism and government control. The allusions aren't the slightest bit subtle (a friend of mine said over dinner afterward, "That was like a Michael Moore movie").

What rang for me after sitting through its two-plus hours, though, was its tale of this hero - a man rallying the people for their own good against a government they were content to let run their lives in whatever manner it pleased. V forces the public to look plainly at what the people in positions of power are doing and acknowledge that it's wrong.

The movie made me think that if someone were to do for America what V does for Britain then he'd be a hero. History is history because it's made up of individuals doing great, heroic things for the country and the world. That breed of human being has gone completely extinct, replaced by politicians lobbying against what's right to secure votes and money. Lots of money. Intelligence and common sense have vanished in America in terms of the decisions that affect us all.

The policy makers right now couldn't care less about what's best for the country, only what lines their pockets. They aren't fighting to save the environment, advance health care, end poverty, improve education... any of those things. They're too busy with the completely bogus war on terror, which is costing Iraq and other countries several times what 9/11 cost us.

I'm going to stop now, because I don't want to get in trouble. And anyway, I'm no V. I just sit, watching silently like most folks.

Of course, this is just the opinion of one lowly journalist (and in no way reflects those of blah blah blah blah). If you've seen "V", what sort of thoughts came to your mind? If you didn't see it, is it because you don't want to or haven't gotten there yet?

Posted by Phil Parker at 11:40 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

"The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada," directed by and starring Tommy Lee Jones, might have moseyed a little too long. But we both liked the spare lives and unsparing landscape along the West Texas-Mexico border.

(Oops: Thanks to technical magic, you might first hear our voice test and then a pause. Hang on: We're there, pardner.)

Posted by Barbara Page at 12:19 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Why do we fight?

Eugene Jarecki wondered enough to make a film, Why We Fight, about it. I saw it this weekend at the Center for Contemporary Arts in Santa Fe.

The film presented an impressive collage of news footage and interviews with high-level players in the fedral government, the military, watchdog organizations and others.

Despite the adroit editing, I felt disappointed. Where was the new information? Where were the facts I hadn't read about in the news or on the Web?

Yes, it assembled the myriad motives behind war -- including a young enlistee's financial pressures, war-machine propaganda, big-business profits, the military's role as an economic engine and national security considerations -- but a good chunk of the film delved into critiquing the nature of power (for example, Cheney's ties to Halliburton) or the justifications for the war in Iraq.

Some facts in the film demonstrated how much certain businesses and individuals benefit from war, and from those facts we could, I suppose, conclude they were the motivation for going to war. Some of those conclusions are plausible, but it's a bit like saying just because you see someone holding a gun in the same room with somebody who has been shot, the person holding the gun did the shooting. Did you see him pull the trigger? I was looking for "trigger-pulling" information in this film, and didn't get it.

Still, the film will make you think and undoubtedly encourage more investigation into war, power and the economics of both. If you have a chance to see it, go. Pay a few extra bucks at the CCA and you'll get to hear, as I did, the film discussed by a panel of journalists, a military member who served in Iraq and professors.

From the panel came these two interesting points:

1) Consider the fact that many young men and women consider the military as their only means to obtain a good job. Why is this? What more can we do to create more jobs?

2) U.S. consumer behavior -- our incessant thirst for material goods assembled for the most part outside of our country -- drives many of our approaches to foreign policy. Our way of life demands an amazing quantity of energy to sustain, and resources, such as oil, don't come for free. We need access to them, often in hostile foreign countries. How do you obtain that access? By asking nicely? Or by assembling the largest military in history that no other country could possibly stand against?

Posted by boot13 at 11:33 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

First, a confession: We went Wednesday afternoon because of work obligations on Thursday. We were the only two at the theater, which is a shame. "Transamerica" deserves a wide audience. It's a sweet, funny, touching tale. Hear more here.

Posted by Barbara Page at 07:48 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Now that award season is over, I'm going through withdrawal, even though
the Academy Awards proved more effective at putting me to sleep then a
regular dose of Sominex.

Maybe I shouldn't have tried to watch so much of it. I began Sunday with
E!'s 10 loooong hours of live coverage. I drifted in and out, trying to pay
attention as Ryan Seacrest flirted with anything in taffeta and Isaac
Mizrahi toned himself down from his Golden Globes TMI.

My favorite red carpet moment came when ABC aired the "Desperate Houswives"
cast wishing Felicity Huffman good luck. She genuinely teared up. Sweet!

Jon Stewart seemed to do fine. His most cringeworthy moments came courtesy
of mocking Russell Crowe for the phone incident and insulting Charlize
Theron for going ugly in her films.

The best award show moment came when I found my new theme song - "It's hard
out here for a pimp." Three Six Mafia performed the catchy ditty and then
got bleeped during the acceptance speech. Note to self: Go buy "Hustle &
Flow" soundtrack.

I also liked when Phillip Seymour Hoffman thanked his mommy profusely. It
was even more touching that he shaved and learned what a steamer
is for. Nothing says "I love you" like a clean shave and unwrinkled
polyester.

Well, on to the good, the bad and the just plain hideous in fashion:

Couple who cares about their J-O-B's award: Will Smith and Jada Pinkett
Smith. She was one hot mama as she worked her fantabulous electric blue
Roberto Cavalli dress. He looked good, too, and they weren't all matchy
matchy like they were a few years ago. Loved it!

I'm too sexy: Salma Hayek in a sea blue gown and her hair all loose and
wavy. She was purtier than Julia Roberts was in that movie about a hooker.

My eyes, my eyes: The horrible green bow on Charlize Theron's shoulder
looked like she had gangrene that had grown out of control. Couture is
eeeevil.

Do I even own a razor? Owen Wilson. Scruffy is
so not award show chic. Naughty, naughty.

Posted by Mary-Ann McBride at 11:26 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

That's right, I've seen them all. Here's who should win, and who shouldn't.

Well, I've seen all the Best Picture, Best Director, Best Actor and Best Supporting Actor flicks. The big ones. Sadly, "Sin City" was shut out - whatever my collegues at The Illustrious Trib say, I think "Sin" will go down as the best movie released this year - and so was Peter Jackson, who should be embroiled in the best race of the night with Steven Speilberg for Best Director.

At least that's what I'd say. Maybe "Pride and Prejudice" and "Memoirs of a Geisha" are chock-full of beautiful wonderfulness. I'll never know.

Here's how they'd rank in this movie fan's mind:

Best Supporting Actor:

5. Matt Dillon. Mr. Lombardo, nominated for an Oscar. Go figure. The lesser Dillon (you heard me) was good, but no better than any other performance in "Crash."

4. Paul Giamatti. The everyman's man finally gets a long-overdue nod, against a seriously stacked field. Russel Crowe was the better "Cinderella Man" actor, and Giamatti made more memorable turns in "American Splendor" and "Sideways." (Oh, and as Pig Vomit in "Private Parts.")

3. Jake Gyllenhaal. It's hard to root for Donnie Darko because I want so badly to trade lives with him. He was awesome in "Brokeback" (and in "Jarhead") and could easily win this....

2. George Clooney. ...If not for GCloon, who I think is a cinch to take this one. It's one of those intense performances where a great actor seems to transform into the character. There's been a lot of "Traffic" comparisons with "Syriana" (justifiably) and Clooney's performance is definitely reminiscant of Benicio's in that movie.

1. William Hurt. There's no way he'll win, but his short scene was absolute dynamite - sort of funny and scary at the same time. William Hurt is the man, and a part like this - that's quick and memorable and the highlight of a great movie - deserves to snag a little gold man.

Best Actor

5. Joaquin Phoenix. I just didn't see what all the fuss was about. A good actor in a good roll, but his facial expression barely changed through the whole thing.

4. Heath Ledger. A good (and pretty important) performance, but it was confusing. Was he dipping in some scenes? Because his mouth was weird sometimes. And he sounded drunk the whole time - and he was only supposed to be drunk half the time.

3. Phillip Seymore Hoffman. Kudos for a performance that endures itself after initially annoying the holy bejesus out of me (I can't be alone on this one).

2. David Strathairn. Is that an 'm' or an 'rn' at the end of his name? RN! YOU HEARD IT HERE, BABY! Strathairn was the epitome of quiet excellence. He's just seems a million times smarter than anyone else who ever lived.

1. Terence Howard. The charater I can most relate to. (It truly is hard out there for a pimp. Ya heard.) Except for the inexplicably shafted Russel Crowe, this was the best performance in any category (that I saw). He had to do everything, and completely vanished into an unforgettable character.

Best Director

5. Paul Haggis. Some of the scenes and dialogue in "Crash" (starting with Ludacris' monologue in the street) lacked any kind of subtlety. It was so on-the-nose. Good movie but, in this viewer's opinion, a bit overrated.

4. Bennet Miller. "Capote" was pretty easy to forget.

3. Ang Lee. Deserves a lot of credit for making this movie, and will probably win because of it. A very good, very subtle directorial job from the mastermind auteur who brought us "The Hulk."

2. George Clooney. God bless him for making a great movie that came in under and hour and a half. Not one watch glance throughout the entirety of "Good Night." That's a phenomenal achievement in this era of 3-hour event flicks.

1. Steven Speilberg. "Munich," for example, was a bit of a watch-checker. But it was also amazing - the best-looking movie I saw (excepting "Sin City") in all of 2005. He's the best - the master. It's that simple.

Best Picture

5. "Crash." Meh.

4. "Capote." I left this movie and immediately bought "In Cold Blood," which was about ten times the book that "Capote" was a movie.

3. "Brokeback Mountain." Great movie, and an important one in this age of GOP-fueled stupidity. It was a ballsy move making a heart-felt gay love story (the best of its kind since "Point Break" I dare declare), and that's sort of sad.

2. "Good Night and Good Luck." Just a short, smart and incredibly solid, well made film. They simply don't make movies like this any more. I almost hope it wins.

1. "Munich." Bigger and better looking than any other movie this year (except maybe "King Kong.") It's like an action-packed, non-fiction novel... and you don't even have to read! Great movie. Deserves to win. Wasn't as good as "Sin City," but hey, whatever.

Who's everyone else got this Sunday? Does it even matter?

Posted by Phil Parker at 03:47 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Port operations have been in hot water long before a Dubai company scudded into the news.
And never has venality been better portrayed than in "On the Waterfront" (1954).
Marlon Brando is Terry Malloy, a sweet palooka more than willing to play D&D -- deaf and dumb -- to dockside corruption.
That is, until Edie (Eva Marie Saint) comes along and awakens his conscience.
Budd Schulberg's script is superb at every turn, especially in the four-minute scene between Terry and older brother Charley (Rod Steiger) in the back of a taxi. " I coulda been a contender," Terry tells Charley, wistfully.
No mere contender here. This is American cinema steeped in greatness.

Posted by Barbara Page at 01:51 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

This bird's no quail, but there is plenty of hunting in "Three Days of the Condor" (1975).
Robert Redford is Joe Turner, aka the Condor, a low-level CIA wonk who has stumbled onto a plot that wipes out his co-workers and sends him on the lam.
Along the way, he abducts Faye Dunaway, and an interesting Big Apple take on the Stockholm syndrome ensues.
But it's the suspense of a secret agency that keeps us going. And when Redford blurts out the unthinkable -- are we invading the Mideast? -- it's as startling 30 years later as a face full of birdshot.

Posted by Barbara Page at 01:42 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

March might come in like a lamb or a lion or, in New Mexico, like a llama with a sideways spit.
But in Mopu, at the rise of the Himalayas, the wind reigns every month.
It winds through an old palace where concubines once frolicked. It whisks the veils and robes of the five nuns (led by Deborah Kerr) who have moved there. And it whips up memories and passions, sweet and mad.
All to make "Black Narcissus" ( 1947) a highly charged drama, with a touch of the gothic.
This film is regarded as one of the great achievements of Technicolor -- and it is -- but it's the wind that marches us to the edge.

Posted by Barbara Page at 01:31 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

You know the pop culture game Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon? It claims you can take any actor and connect him or her to Bacon in six steps or less.
Well, The Tribune has put together its own game, Six Degrees of Oscar -- New Mexico Style.

We connect Dolly Parton to the balloon fiesta, "Crash" to La Cueva and Johnny Cash to our very own newsroom. (Find out how by reading the article in La Vida, www.abqtrib.com)
Now it's your turn to play the game. For example, can you relate the Frontier to Felicity Huffman in six steps or less? Is "Brokeback Mountain" connected to the Rio Grande in just a couple of moves? Maybe. Try it. Let us know.

Posted by jbarol at 09:00 AM | Permalink | Comments (4)

We saw "Brokeback Mountain" this week, just in time for the Oscars. We don't have much to add -- it's very good -- but you can hear us here.

Posted by Barbara Page at 09:00 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

In days of yore, an occasion often merited an ode or other poetic tribute. Even in recent years, England's poet laureaute ponied up some lines for the second wedding of Prince Charles. And, no, it was not:

Roses are red
Stables are muck
Mum's not jolly
Camilla got Chuck

(In fact, Andrew Motion's poem is quite nice, in a contemporary, there-will-always-be-an-English-spring kind of way. Check it out here.)

Anyway, Sunday is Oscar night, and verse seems in order. But odes are too stuffy, and limericks too risky. ("There once were two chaps in dire straits." No, I don't think so.)

So how about a clerihew?

A clerihew, you say.

A clerihew is a simple, unmetered, four-line poem with two rhyming couplets. The first line is usually a person's name. And that's it. (No feet, just bleats, thank goodness.)

They were popularized by Edmund Clerihew Bentley (1875-1956), an English journalist, mystery novelist ("Trent's Last Case") and humorist. Here's one of his creations:

Sir Christopher Wren
Said, "I am going to dine with some men.
If anyone calls
Say I am designing St. Paul's."

The clerihew slipped out of fashion, as such things do, and then enjoyed a resurgence circa the 1970s, thanks to the witty, academic jabs of the poet W.H. Auden. Here is my favorite Auden clerihew:

John Milton
Never stayed in a Hilton
Hotel
Which was just as well

Well, these Oscar clerihews might be less memorable, but, then, so could this year's ceremonies. Nevertheless:


Philip Seymour Hoffman
could discomfit a Kansan.
That lisp. Those eyes, sad and blue.
Yes, he could really keep it Tru.

Reese Witherspoon
Was June.
She sure could inspire
a man to walk through a ring of fire.

Amy Adams
My, madam,
So innocent, so sweet. Here's a hug
for that light-landing "Junebug."

Dolly Parton
Carton
of talent? You jest.
It's surely a brimming chest.

Ang Lee
Let's see
A tiger, a dragon, a hulk so strange.
Now two sheepish lovers. What range!


Your turn: Have a clerihew for one of your favorites? Or something along those lines? (Hey, keep it clean!)

By the way: If you've wanted to post a comment to the blog entries but were thrown off by that request for a URL, take heart. It's optional! What it is, is an opportunity to list your Web site address, if you possess a Web site. If you don't have one, or don't want us to know about it, just leave that space blank.

Posted by Barbara Page at 03:26 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

This is George Washington's week -- holiday Monday, birthday Wednesday.
Grand fella, but he'll forever get his comeuppance in the musical "1776"(1972).
He's the offstage military commander who sends the Continental Congress his constant gripes -- to our irreverent hoots.
And the crafting of the Declaration of Independence? A sweltering fracas!
History has rarely been this interesting.
True, the DVD version tarries a bit, but it restores a song about conservatives (a minuet "to the right, ever to the right") that President Nixon persuaded producers to cut in the original release. And the audio commentary's dandy.

Posted by Barbara Page at 01:46 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)