The Empire team just put up their review of 2006. Take a look at their top 25 films for this year and let me know what you think. Of the films on the list that I have seen, I agree they belong there, but I’m not sure I agree with all of their placements/rankings. Do you agree with their assessment of the last year of film?

If you’re interested in this blog, then chances are you know about the film Four Eyed Monsters. Even if you didn’t read about them here, their tsunami wave of popularity still probably reached you. Perhaps tsunami is a dramatic word, but when you consider that with no marketing besides what they could do themselves, they’ve had literally over a hundred thousand young hipsters (or wannabe hipsters like myself) following their video podcasts about the insanely tumultuous life of their film (fallouts with actors, fallouts with family, relationship trouble, and what was Arin doing sleeping in an airport and missing his flight to the premier of his own film? Aaah! It’s all so juicy!).

I met Susan Buice and Arin Crumley, the directors of Four Eyed Monsters, at a filmmaker cocktail party before their movie screened at the Waterfront Film Festival in June of 2005. I was really moved by how ambitious their film is, so I started keeping track of them. Since then they have:

- Been to dozens more festivals
- Posted a “Distributors Most Wanted List” on their website
- Held a screening for said distributors which resulted in no distribution
- Produced a wildly popular video podcast (Launched on iTunes the same day as the video iPod)
- Pioneered DIY distribution by having fans request the film in their city, then set up screenings
- Signed a deal with Withoutabox.com to distribute a DVD (which still hasn’t materialized)
- Hosted their own sold-out screenings in NYC
- Got even more screenings at the IFC Film Center in NYC, with less turnout than was hoped for

Finally, this week they won a $100,000 audience award at the indieWIRE Undiscovered Gem Festival, a traveling festival that hit a dozen cities this year. This award also brings theatrical distribution to theaters in seven other cities and a broadcast of the film on the Sundance Channel.

I’m really happy for Susan and Arin. When I first met them a year and a half ago, they said they wanted theatrical distribution. They wanted audiences to see the film in the “black box” of theaters, the place they felt it was meant to be shown. Now, through a lot of hard work and dedication, they got it. They really did it.

But I worry that they might be overlooking a much greater accomplishment. How many people have downloaded the podcast now? 150,000? 200,000? How many people will show up to see FEM with its distribution prize? Maybe a few thousand in each city? It’s been over four months since they released Episode 8 (and my tongue is still dangling from Susan’s oh-so-transgressive kiss!).

Susan and Arin, we loved you with no theatrical release. We loved the intimacy with which you bared your souls. We relished in the innovation with which two “amateurs” told their story. And we watched it all online, like a cinematic revolution was marching down the street outside our homes.

In kicking and screaming your way into a traditional distribution deal–the theatrical release of FEM–you inadvertently blazed a trail for truly alternative, truly grassroots distribution. The trail you blazed is leading to building a global audience without theater, home video, or TV distribution. A world where filmmakers don’t need the King to touch their shoulder with the sword of their marketing dollars and industry connections.

I worry now that you could come dangerously close to losing the audience you\’ve built on video podcasts by putting all your energy toward a less loyal audience going to theaters. Most of us don’t live near a theater where FEM will play. I’m happy you got what you always wanted, but there’s a selfish side of me that wants Episode 9. It’s the same side that’s more blown away with what you accomplished with your video podcasts than the grand prize you won this week.

Will you eventually give up on the pretty and popular–but fickle–girl (the theater) in favor of the wonderful, sensible girl who\’s been by you all along? (Me. The guy who just called himself a girl.)

I live in a university town, and it’s pretty widely agreed upon that academia’s reaction time to what’s happening in the world can be rather delayed. So you can imagine my surprise when I found out, in a Washington Post article today, that some film schools are starting to offer courses geared toward creating content specifically for cell phones. I guess it’s time for me to snap to!

I personally have a difficult time imagining myself watching (or even wanting to) any kind of video on my cell phone, but I’m going to set that personal preference aside for the sake of the post. What I’ve really been curious about for a while, now, is what this content might actually be. Die Hard super-shrunk? Please no. Today’s article (”Filmmakers Face Some Big Challenges on Tiny Cellphones”) brought me up to speed, and even calmed my fears, a bit. Here’s an excerpt, detailing some of what’s being done by News Corp.’s Fox network, as well as the Sundance Institute:

Clearly, the medium must do more than shoehorn videos made for bigger screens into cellphones. Rather, producers will have to craft their work to reflect the unique qualities of cellphone video: its mobility, the short attention span of its audience, the growing ease with which users can send videos from one device to another.

It’s not surprising that early efforts at mobile video have some of the same irreverent, sometimes racy, qualities of YouTube. Amp’d Mobile, the wireless service that originally produced “Lil’ Bush,” has rolled out a number of sophomoric shows like “Swing Shift,” in which a former producer of “The Howard Stern Show” gets people to do disgusting things.

The Sundance filmmakers are targeting a more highbrow audience, but they’re also producing snack-size videos that viewers might be inclined to share. Ms. Faris and Mr. Dayton, the directors of the cinema hit Little Miss Sunshine, are doing a short that shows classic slapstick moments, like people slipping on banana peels, in super-slow motion.

The drawbacks of the medium are obvious, from tricky lighting and sound issues to a overall loss of detail. But maybe there’s a silver lining when it comes to the creative process, even in the eyes of people who, like me, scoff at the idea of watching anything on a two-inch screen. Think about this: Cellphones could provide a way for more people to see short films, an utterly underappreciated form that I love. Sadly, not everyone can get to good film festivals, where shorts have been relegated. What if every fourth person on the bus was watching a well-made short?

Another creative plus is that there can be great freedom within boundaries and restrictions. Think of poetry created within set forms. Think of music. When we’re restricted, we push ourselves creatively. The Post article says that filmmaker Maria Maggenti “…found it liberating that, when producing for the small screen, she didn’t have to focus on the details that movie makers obsess about.”

That’s something I can get behind. Not that I don’t love and appreciate the detail in great films, but I’m all about creating new forms that push artists in new, interesting ways. I’ll just have to see if I can get versions of these new shows and shorts for my laptop.

Christmas is a time for family and friends. It’s a time to back up, give some gifts and share some love. But let’s face it, it’s a time for movie watching. We watch so many movies during the holidays, (when do they always release Harry Potter?) but why is it certain movies become Christmas Movies?

All sorts of charming movies take place during Christmas, like the list from the Washington Post Kristin wrote about in Movies that say “holiday” without screaming “cliche.” When we were selecting DVDs for the Spout Essentials set called the Christmas Survival Pack, we were thinking of various family situations that arise during the holidays where you’d like to be armed with a great flick. (Do the kids want to pop in Pokemon’s Christmas Nuisance Extravaganza? Try Jean Cocteau’s oh-so enchanting 1946 version of Beauty and the Beast. The scenes in the palace are 100 times more eye-popping than the Disney version, and you can read the subtitles the way you would a storybook–a much better introduction to foreign films than Pokemon.) But none of these movies where Christmas plays a prominent role are generally accepted as Christmas Movies.

If I spend Christmas with my mom and sisters, it automatically means all the “kids” (my wife, two sisters, my brother-in-law, and myself) have to sleep in one room and watch a twenty-year-old VHS recording of Santa Claus is Coming to Town. We laugh at all the awkward bits and pieces and talk about how scared we were of the Winter Warlock when we were kids. It’s a ritual more than a movie. It seems every other family participating in Christmas has some ritual Christmas movie they have to watch as well. Why?

I think it’s because a real Christmas Movie does two things. First, it connects us to our nostalgia, the same way Christmas music does. That much is obvious. But it also connects us to each other. Like a good campfire, it helps us take a deep breath and enter into why we’ve spent so much money on each other and gathered at Mom’s place. I think Christmas Movies get labeled “clich

Perhaps this is a given, but I love the classic Christmas movies. Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, How the Grinch Stole Christmas, It’s a Wonderful Life, Miracle on 34th Street–they all give me warm-holiday-fuzzies the same way opening the box of tree ornaments each December does. Sure, the movies might be a bit tired after decades of repeated viewing, but what I like most about them, of course, is rooted in those years of repeated viewing. (As “Goldyngirl” said in a comment to my recent post about overrated films, “There are some films that I adore if only because they call up a certain period in my life; not because of any artistic merit.”)

Before anyone blows a gasket, let me clarify that I find plenty of artistic merit in these classics (I wouldn’t dare go messin’ with Rudolph!). But you have to admit–even writing about these movies and waxing a bit sentimental is cliche. Watching them is inherently a tad cliche, too.

I highly encourage traditions, so please–continue watching the classics to your heart’s content. If you’re looking for something a bit different, though, The Washington Post just published a fun list under the headline Other Christmas Stories. Here’s what the Post’s Jen Chaney recommends for the holiday season. Each film references the holidays in a subtle or more obvious way, whether it’s a holiday party scene, wintry weather, a Christmas day phone call, or a plot-critical reference to a Christmas hit song. (See the link for more on why Chaney included these on her list.)

- The Shop Around the Corner (1940)

- The Sure Thing (1985)

- The Ice Harvest (2005)

- Die Hard (1988)

- Little Women (1933, 1949, and 1994)

- About a Boy (2002)

- Citizen Kane (1941)

- Catch Me If You Can (2002)

- Gremlins (1984)

- The Simpsons and Six Feet Under (TV series)

- Diner (1982)

- When Harry Met Sally (1989)

One of the better films I saw at the 2006 Sundance Film Festival was Flannel Pajamas. Although it did well at the festival–and even grabbed the love and affection of Roger Ebert–it hasn’t had much luck finding distribution. This is all slightly ironic, considering that the film’s writer/director, Jeff Lipsky, has made his name in film distribution.

Lipsky’s career spans everything from working with John Cassavetes distributing A Woman Under the Influence to sheparding titles like My Life as a Dog, Stranger Than Paradise and Sid & Nancy (which introduced the world to Gary Oldman) into the marketplace.

On November 15th, Flannel Pajamas finally received limited theatrical distribution and may even be playing at a neighborhood Landmark Theater near you. Take a listen to KCRW’s The Business and Claude Brodesser-Akner’s interview with Lipsky. It covers his career-jump from distributor to filmmaker, and the challenges of promoting your film in the industry. It’s a very insightful conversation with someone who knows both sides of the coin well.

If you type “overrated” into Google, you come up with all kinds of lists–overrated songs, bands, cities, athletes, people, and even degrees (the MBA, for instance). At spout.com, our users have given 95 movies the tag “overrated.” Letting others know what you think is overrated is obviously a popular concept. The problem is, there’s really no definitive way to determine what is in fact overrated. Even a dictionary definition doesn’t help: “To rate or appraise too highly.” Too highly according to whom? The use of the term “overrated” is so inherently subjective, that it can only be used to spark discussion and debate.

But there’s great value (and fun) in that, which is why I recently joined the discussion group “Totally Overrated” at spout.com. When it comes to movies, I have my own general criteria for what gets dubbed overrated. The general test: If everyone’s talking about a new film so much that I decide to go to the theater to see it, but then I leave feeling cheated, that’s an overrated film in my book (The Squid and the Whale, anyone?). My alternate test: If I find myself gnashing my teeth through Academy Awards night, the movie winning all the awards is most certainly overrated (1998 and Titanic just about did me in). Obviously, neither method is close to scientific and has very little, if anything, to do with the quality of the film or whether in fact I might actually like it. Again, it’s subjective, and what’s subjective tends to get us riled up.

So, let’s try a little test. Here’s something to react to. One of the members of Totally Overrated, pippin06, brought to our attention a feature in Premiere magazine, listing what they consider the 20 most overrated films of all time. All I can say is brace yourself. As pippin06 said after posting the list, “I’m too shocked. Wipe the puddle that is me off the floor….”

American Beauty
Chicago
Clerks
Fantasia
Field of Dreams
Chariots of Fire
Good Will Hunting
Forrest Gump
Jules and Jim
A Beautiful Mind
Monster’s Ball
Moonstruck
Mystic River
Nashville
The Wizard of Oz
An American in Paris
Easy Rider
The Red Shoes
2001: A Space Odyssey
Gone with the Wind

Did your heart start beating faster? Did your blood pressure even rise? Did you get really upset at the presence of at least five of the movies on this list? The members of the Totally Overrated group did. Jymkata said: “The Red Shoes???!!!!! That totally astounds me. If Premiere is going to call into question one of the most beautiful films ever made it has no right to call itself a film publication.” And pippin06 went off about several, including The Wizard of Oz and Clerks: “…anyone who calls The Wizard of Oz overrated is just being blasphemous in my book. Say what you like, but when it’s memorized by people of all ages the world over, flying monkeys aside, it can’t be that overrated. And Clerks? Who’s doing the overrating there? I thought it was underrated as a cult classic.”

Who’s doing the overrating indeed. Apparently one person at Premiere magazine who doesn’t like The Wizard of Oz. As my friend Jason put it, it’s like calling your Grandma overrated. It’s just not right. What she did in her day was pretty darn impressive, and she should get to rest easy on her good reputation in her old age. She shouldn’t have to keep jumping through hoops to prove herself again and again.

Anyway, the term does serve a purpose, even if not a scientific one, and it’s a fun way to spark debate. So let us know what makes you mad about the list (or what you agree with). Let us know what you think it takes for a movie to be called overrated. And if you’re really having fun, consider joining the conversation in our group on spout.com.

I’ve had a rare and precious experience. A gifted filmmaker, Sami Mermer, is leaving the U.S. today to avoid being deported. With him he takes a rough cut of his documentary, which he hopes to return with in the future. Shot where I live in Grand Rapids, MI, I got to see this film at one of two screenings Mermer set up last week. The film is beautiful and the story of trying to make it is truly inspiring. Any filmmaker in this country struggling to complete a film has not had the kind of trouble Sami Mermer had making his film, The Box of Lanzo. On the other hand, some filmmakers will envy how Broadway was shut down for free while Mermer was filming.

Filmmaker Sami Mermer with his wife after the second and last showing of his film, The Box of Lanzo. He leaves the country today unsure if U.S. immigration will allow him back in.