Yes, it appears to be true. We’re going to be treated to a sequel of an informative (if slightly slow) documentary about global warming, and another for a high quality film with very little action and rather unpleasant characters. For An Inconvenient Truth Part 2 (I know, it gets your heart beating faster, doesn’t it?), director Davis Guggenheim is scheduled to meet with Paramount next week, so it’s too soon for details. (Will the original film’s star, Al Gore, agree to a sequel? The suspense…)

For the Henry Fool sequel, Hartly made Fay Grim, which picks up seven years later and focuses on the Parker Posey character by the same name. Somehow, Hartly manages to take a movie based entirely in a Queens neighborhood, and move its sequel to Paris, where the CIA also plays a role. Not your typical sequel (but I can’t wait to see it–check out the trailer at Spout).

So do these new developments tell us anything about the future of the sequel? Probably not. Some of the best documentary sequels (although most people don’t call them that) have been around for a while–director Michael Apted’s Up Series (28 Up, 35 Up, etc.), which he began filming in 1963. (Apted began chronicling the lives of 14 seven year olds that year, following up with “sequels” every seven years after.) It’s a brilliant series, but it hasn’t shifted the way most studios think about doing sequels. Neither did Smoke or its sequel (of sorts) Blue in the Face, another example of an atypical movie sequel set. No, it seems the decision to make your average sequel is generally all about what made a lot of money the first time around and might have enough buzz surrounding it to sustain another go. Wouldn’t it be great if the decision to create a sequel was based on the story, and whether it was worthy of another go?

Erica Abeel from the Filmmaker Magazine blog sums up what most people seem to be saying: “…it seems almost sacrilegious to report that “Blueberry,” the Hong Kong auteur’s first English-language production, and his first film set and shot in the U.S., is gorgeous to look at, but not a helluva lot more. In fact, the screening in the packed Salle Debussy was greeted with only a smattering of anemic applause.”

Similarly, from Cinematical: “My Blueberry Nights is so beautifully shot, though, that you’d be excused for thinking that the quality of the performances is almost irrelevant; each scene is a symphony of color and light, each frame exquisitely shaped by the play of pigment and shade. New York is caught in blue, wintry tones; Memphis in deep, relaxed browns; Nevada’s casinos come alive in jittery crimson. It’s too bad that we can’t quite believe in the characters within those gorgeous visions, though.”

And I found this opinion interesting, from Isabella Ho, a film scholar from Taiwan. She observes that two accomplished Asian directors–Wong Kar Wai and Hou Hsiao Hsien from Taiwan–are at Cannes with their first films not shot in their native languages. It made me think of Alfonso Cuaron (Children of Men) and Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritus (Babel), both Spanish-speaking filmmakers with big 2006 hits in English. (I wrote a post a few months back about all the attention being given to Mexican cinema.) Here’s what Isabella Ho has to say:

“I think it’s very sad that these directors are driven to make movies outside their home countries and in other languages,” said Ho, a representative of Taiwan film distributor cum production company CMC. “Their home audience doesn’t seem to appreciate the stories they are trying to tell.”

Is it sad? I can see sad aspects about it, but I don’t know if they outweigh the benefits of Wong Kar Wai being able to just make the film he wants to visually make. After all, it sounds like My Blueberry Nights could be a movie to watch with the sound on mute, anyway.

You can read even more about My Blueberry Nights here on indieWIRE, here on GreenCine Daily, here on the Filmmaker Magazine blog, and here on the Risky Business blog.

…Moore, never one to shy away from a righteous fight, isn’t playing defense. I talked with him by phone Sunday night–I was in Cannes and he was in New York, putting the final touches on his film–and he displayed his usual mix of passion, outrage, humor and bravado. “Why would they do it now? I have no idea,” he said of the government maneuver. “Were they just sitting around there and somebody said, ‘Hey, this is opening in Cannes next week. We have to do something.’ Are they that divorced from reality or the popular culture to know that isn’t the right thing to do? I think maybe they thought, ‘We’re going to chance it here to try to paint him with some Castro brush or whatever.’ I think when people see the film, there is going to have to be a lot of rewriting done on the initial stories that went out last week in terms of what really happens in the film and what we really did.”

In The Hollywood Reporter’s piece on the matter, “Healthy debate surrounds Moore’s docu ‘Sicko,’” has this to say about the publicity stunt:

Lionsgate and the Weinstein Co. are making the Treasury Department’s investigation a key focus of their “Sicko” campaign. The Weinstein Co. has hired David Boies, the chief attorney in Al Gore’s recount battle against George Bush in the 2000 U.S. presidential election, to help on the “Sicko” case. Chris Lehane, a political consultant on the film, said in an interview that TWC and Lionsgate would “go to the mattresses for this film and fight the Bush efforts in every way possible.”

On the anti-Moore side, News Corp. properties Fox News and the New York Post have run editorials and commentaries slamming the filmmaker.

While the Treasury Dept. triggered the current contretemps, “It’s Harvey (Weinstein) up to his old tricks, doing his Barnum & Bailey act,” said one prominent studio marketing executive. “It’s a textbook ‘create a controversy’ to rev up all the people who hate the government and bring attention to the movie, which is what film marketing is all about. A-plus to them.”

The funny thing is that, according to a press release about the film’s release date, Harvey Weinstein sees Sicko as “less controversial” than Fahrenheit 9-11.

“I’ve seen this movie with Republicans and Democrats, and this is one time Michael has sort of unified everyone,” [Weinstein] said. “The health care industry might not have a very good July Fourth.”

Here’s to so-called unification. We’ll have to see how that works out.

Much of the perspective in the article comes from Barry Sonnenfeld, who has worked extensively with the Coen Brothers. Some of the techniques covered include the use of extremely wide angle lenses, geometrical and symmentrical tableaus, forward tracking, and other camera position techniques. The makers of silent films were masters of this, using framing to build up to a gag, creating comedic suspense long before the gag actually happens.

Bordwell also references Jacques Tati and the more recent movies Shaun of the Dead and Crank. He wraps things up with this:

I think that aspiring filmmakers can learn a lot from this tradition. Our films need more pictorial creativity, which often doesn\’t require fancy CGI. Stylistic handling can add fresh layers to a basic story situation, and astute filmmakers can be alert to the possibilities of comic compositions and funny framings.

1. We Are Together (directed by Paul Taylor)

2. The Gates (directed by Antonio Ferrera and Albert Maysles)

3. 2 Days in Paris (directed by Julie Delpy)

4. Shotgun Stories (directed by Jeff Nichols)

5. In Search of a Midnight Kiss (directed by Alex Holdridge)

6. Rebirth of a Nation (by DJ Spooky)

7. Chavez (directed by Diego Luna)

8. I Am an American Soldier: One Year in Iraq With the 101st Airborne (directed by John Laurence)

9. Half Moon (directed by Bahman Ghobadi)

10. Times and Winds (directed by Reha Erdem)

A long time ago (at least on the Spout calendar), Paul wrote a post essentially brainstorming about his dream movie theater. In his post, Paul actually wrote “I secretly hope Landmark Theaters will consider this a quick and dirty business plan to elaborate on.”

Well, it looks like Mark Cuban is actually jumping on Paul’s bandwagon, or at least something close. An article today on Cinematical, “Mark Cuban Wants To Make Us Scoop Our Own Popcorn,” says Cuban and Todd Wagner are unveiling their new movie theater concepts in three of their Landmark theaters–in Baltimore, Denver, and Los Angeles.

“Landmark’s goal is to be the ultimate night out for grownups. Today’s customer has different expectations than the customer of 10 and 20 years ago, and we need to recognize that and respond to it,” says Cuban in the article.

But what does that actually mean? Amenities, retail sales, and a “lounge-like atmosphere” for food and drinks before and after the movie. Next to Paul’s dream theater, Cuban’s model sounds a bit like it’s trying too hard, although of course I’d have to see and experience it before I could say anything conclusive. Paul’s plan includes ideas like converting old neighborhood theaters back into theaters, starting clubs and other opportunities for like-minded people to come together around films they love, and offering opening acts as a way to expose people to shorts and other emerging cinema. The plan is practical in many ways (brief intermission, anyone?) yet also focuses on actually enriching the movie-going experience, not just lengthening it and providing more opportunities for spending too much.

I guess what I’m thinking is that Cuban’s plan sounds perfect for a first-date, or for any date meant to be somewhat novel–but minus the work. Paul’s plan sounds sustainable for real people who love movies and want better movie-watching experiences on a regular basis. Of course, Cuban has the money, not Paul, so in many ways I have to agree with Patrick Walsh on Cinematical: “Going to the theater is far too expensive to be as unpleasant as it so often is–why not experiment with the formula?”

Odenkirk says professional comedy series, delivered in short bits over the Internet, is the logical progression from the user-submitted pranks and candid-camera clips so popular on sites such as YouTube and Revver.

“You’re going to see a lot more of these conscious pieces of performance, something that’s written and there’s an idea and a character

But I was feeling compelled this morning, nonetheless, to write a post about the ability, even in a small Midwestern town, to see great movies on a big screen. Besides the fact that we have a much-loved art film theater and all kinds of mini film festivals through the University of Illinois, we have our own annual festival, taking place this week–the 9th annual Roger Ebert’s Overlooked Film Festival. Ebert grew up here, going to movies (including Gone with the Wind) at the 86-year-old Virginia Theatre, where the festival is held.

Much is often overlooked where I live–the Midewest in general, this town, Ebert’s festival. But the most important things being overlooked (by all kinds of people everywhere) are great films. This is what Ebert is hoping to change through his festival. The first year I went, in April of 2002, I was skeptical. I thought the films would be good in a slightly-left-of-mainstream way. But I was genuinely impressed by what I saw and the way Ebert talked about each of them, before the movie started, and after it ended, often in conversation with the director or other guest. He is really passionate about these overlooked films. He’s far more complex than a black or white, thumbs-up or -down man. (That first year I heard the Alloy Orchestra accompany the silent classic Metropolis, and I saw David Gordon Greene’s George Washington, followed by a conversation between Ebert and Greene. I still carry those and other Overlooked Film Festival movie experiences with me.)

At this year’s festival, for the first time, Ebert won’t be talking before and after the films. Last year he underwent significant jaw surgery in his battle with cancer, and he isn’t able to talk. (See this piece by him and this CNN story about him.) But he is here, with his wife Chaz and other friends as his voice, which is pretty darn impressive. And even though there’s not much in the movie realm that could seem more mainstream than Roger Ebert, I’m glad that he’s doing so much to promote great films that a somewhat mainstream audience might not otherwise see–especially in a small town like this.

An article in the Spring 2007 issue of Filmmaker Magazine begins by asking these very smart questions, which immediately intrigued me. The article, “What I Meant to Say,” looks quite thoroughly at the independent film movement known by many as “mumblecore.” There are several posts waiting to emerge from this article, so I hope Paul and some of the other guys will share their thoughts in the coming days. For now, just check out the article and take note of the collaboration aspect of this movement.

The article generalizes these mumblecore films as “severely naturalistic portraits of the life and loves of artistic twentysomethings.” Names like Joe Swanberg (LOL), Mark Duplass (The Puffy Chair) and Andrew Bujalski (Funny Ha Ha) are all names that bubble to the top of this “scene,” if you can call it that. (I’ll never forget stumbling across Funny Ha Ha with some friends. It was definitely unlike anything we had ever seen.) Here’s another description from the article:

The first aesthetic indicators–and, it must be stressed, not all friends of mumblecore make films like this–are improvised dialogue and naturalistic performances, often by non-actors. The films employ handheld, verite-style digital camerawork and long takes. Budgets are tiny. The plots hinge on everyday events. The stories are often obvious reflections of the filmmakers’ lives. Most characters are white and educated and pursue creative endeavors when not pursuing one another. They are sensitive. They are sincere.

So that’s mumblecore, and it’s been slowly emerging for a while now. But apparently something interesting started taking shape this year at SXSW, causing people to sit up and pay attention. The festival’s promotional shorts were co-created by eight so-called mumblecore filmmakers, most of whom also had feature-length films at the festival (most of which were made with, written with, or acted by some of the other filmmakers).

It may be hard to follow all that, but you get the idea–this is a tight group. Read the article and you’ll see all the names and how they’re intertwined. It’s quite remarkable. And it made me think that something exciting is happening, whether or not I love this style of film (and I’m not convinced, yet, that I do–I’ll get back to you after I see more). The exciting thing that’s happening, from my perspective, revolves around a shared filmmaking experience that organically draws in ideas and talents from anyone who has some to offer. It’s not about competition–rushing to finish your film first, get it to festivals, attract the most attention. It’s about the love of making movies like this, of finding a format for expression that works, and sharing with others through that format.

In the end, these films, as the Filmmaker articles says, are ultimately about “trying to communicate.” While all films are trying to communicate something, it’s often something that’s inside one person (the writer or director). What’s interesting (and rather poetic) about mumblecore, is that people are interacting and trying to communicate on the screen as well as through the creation process. That seems to be filmmaking collaboration at its best.

Humor is one of those things. It’s highly personal, right up there next to how you like your ham sandwiches made and how you like your underwear to fit. With that being the case, I’m wondering if it’s possible to pull off an all-funny-videos site. Isn’t that putting all your eggs in one basket? Promising too much?

“Will Ferrell” could very well be the answer to any and all “Is it possible?” questions. He’s also the one who’s been busy making such a site happen. Yesterday it was announced that Ferrell, along with his business partner Adam McKay, has launched a new comedy video site, FunnyorDie.com. Sure, the name alone represents a big promise, but so far the site is either keeping that promise or it’s riding the power-of-positive-thinking wave–yesterday the video Ferrell and McKay made had already attracted 1.5 million page views. So many people are hitting the site that today it had a “Too many people are blowing off work to download our videos” message on the homepage.

Kicking this site off right on the heels of Blades of Glory, when our laugh lines from Talladega Nights are also still fresh, was smart for sure. With two movies in a row like that, Ferrell starts to feel like a magic drug–”magic” because everything he touches gets your laugh going, and “drug” because the more you get, the more you want. (At least if that’s your kind of humor, which it either is or isn’t.)

It will be interesting to see how much Ferrell shapes and controls the flavor of the site and if he can sustain its original brand. Will it become synonymous with a certain Ferrell-style of humor, or will it quickly morph into just another video site where finding a real laugh is like winning a big prize?

The appeal of watching movies outdoors is kind of odd, when you think about it–the great outdoors really doesn’t provide the ideal movie-watching conditions. But the appeal is also very real. A big part of the appeal is driven by nostalgia, especially if you grew up in the 70s going to drive-in movie theaters with your parents, who didn’t have the money to hire a sitter. My brother and I would wear our pajamas, eat some home-popped popcorn out of a paper grocery sack, then fall asleep in the back of the station wagon while our parents had their “date.” I still love that image in my head of all those cars lined up in a field, facing a huge screen.

There’s also something novel about watching movies outdoors, especially now, when drive-in theaters are few and far between. Watching a movie outside with a bunch of people is somehow a very festive, community-building experience. I remember watching Pittsburgh on one of those cool inflatable screens with a huge crowd on the opening night of the 2006 Waterfront Film Festival. I also think fondly of the night I sat on a friend’s front porch watching a horror film projected on a sheet one Halloween night. Both nights I remember being chilly and slightly uncomfortable. I remember the screen quality, and/or the sound quality, being less than stellar. But I remember feeling extremely content.

There’s something “for-the-masses” about outdoor entertainment. Anyone passing by can participate, on some level. You don’t have to be invited in, you don’t have to pay for the right to watch and listen for a while. It’s like theater or music performed on the street or in the town square. I imagine it’s what many are drawn to when they organize film series in parks (which are also growing in popularity).

But this “huge trend” that I read about last week in a New York Times article (“The Drive-in Without the Drive”), seems like something quite different. Imagine a 65-inch screen TV permanently installed by the side of an 80-foot pool. Think systems that, with sound and everything else involved, can run from the tens of thousands to hundreds of thousands of dollars. This paragraph from the NYT article will give you a taste of what we’re talking about:

Speak to the integrators and you see a backyard future in which one might never be forced to sit in a tiresome garden and sniff a rose again: Drop-down motorized screens hidden under the eaves; lots of little speakers all over the property (because multiple speakers on low volume create less spillover noise than two big speakers on loud); tiny speakers that look like lights in the trees; speakers in the pool, so that you need not miss Barry Bonds breaking the home run record when your head dips into the water.

Well, that’s novel for sure. But nostalgic? For the masses? Community-building? Yes, I’m old-fashioned. And it sounds pretty sad to me. When you have this whole setup permanently in your yard (or should I say “on your grounds?”) can you really ever just go outside to enjoy being outside? To maybe grown some vegetables in your garden? To play with your kids or your dog? To sit in the shade and read a good book? The ironic thing is that after spending so much money to transform our outdoor spaces into indoor spaces, will people start to complain about the “outdoors” being outdoors? The mosquitoes, the heat and humidity the unexpected storm and bird poo on the screen might very well end up driving people back inside. (And if I was their neighbor, I’d probably be glad.)

Even if my budget didn’t dictate my choice, I think I’d take the borrowed projector and the sheet set up, providing a novel, nostalgic night or two of fun a year.

The list of “computer tricks” in movies was published yesterday on the Programming Blog. Check out the comments, too. People left some funny examples and additions to the list.

What I find interesting about this phenomenon–that computers can do remarkable things in movies–is that filmmakers are still exaggerating the capabilities of computers today, even in non-science fiction, non-futuristic films. I was a kid in the 80s and I remember all the fascination generated around “what computers will someday be able to do.” Most people didn’t know the first thing about computers, so they were easy to fool. Their imaginations were pliable. But now that computers are such an everyday part of so many people’s lives, it seems like movie audiences would demand more accurate portrayals of technology and its capabilities. Computers in movies should be tools that allow us to relate to characters and situations, rather than tools that leave us saying “huh?” (This, of course, doesn’t apply to science fiction and futuristic films.)

Anyway, here are my favorites from the list. Check out the whole list for fun, if nothing else. Enjoy, and let us know which computer scenes in movies are your favorite.

Things Computers Can Do in Movies

2. You never have to use the space-bar when typing long sentences.

5. High-tech computers, such as those used by NASA, the CIA or some such governmental institution, will have easy to understand graphical interfaces.

6. Those that don’t have graphical interfaces will have incredibly powerful text-based command shells that can correctly understand and execute commands typed in plain English.

7. Note: Command line interfaces will give you access to any information you want by simply typing, “ACCESS THE SECRET FILES” on any nearby keyboard.

9. All computers are connected. You can access the information on the villain’s desktop computer even if it’s turned off.

11. All computer panels operate on thousands of volts and have explosive devices underneath their surface. Malfunctions are indicated by a bright flash of light, a puff of smoke, a shower of sparks and an explosion that causes you to jump backwards.

14. You may bypass “PERMISSION DENIED” message by using the “OVERRIDE” function. (See “Demolition Man”.)

15. Computers only take 2 seconds to boot up instead of the average minutes for desktop PCs and 30 minutes or more for larger systems that can run 24 hours, 365 days a year without a reset.

16. Complex calculations and loading of huge amounts of data will be accomplished in under three seconds. Movie modems usually appear to transmit data at the speed of two gigabytes per second.

24. Most computers, no matter how small, have reality-defying three-dimensional active animation, photo-realistic graphics capabilities.

25. Laptops always have amazing real-time video phone capabilities and performance similar to a CRAY Supercomputer.

26. Whenever a character looks at a monitor, the image is so bright that it projects itself onto their face. (See “Alien” or “2001″)

27. Searches on the internet will always return what you are looking for no matter how vague your keywords are. (See “Mission Impossible,” Tom Cruise searches with keywords like “file” and “computer” and 3 results are returned.)

Foreign-language cinema got another vote of no confidence yesterday, with the announcement of Dreamachine, a new film company formed out of the merger of international sales outfit Celluloid Dreams with U.K.-based HanWay Films.

Yikes. Votes of no confidence are harsh. And machines (even of the dream sort) are a bit frightening. OK, I know I’m not business-minded enough to appreciate decisions like this and understand the possible necessity behind them, but I can’t help feeling like this is a sell-out for foreign films. All in the name of profit.

The article goes on to say that Dreamachine will “continue to take on foreign talents and maintain relationships with its proven staple of auteurs,” but fewer films will be made, and most of them in English. I don’t quite get how those are foreign language films at all, any more. (Celluloid Dream’s Hengameh Panahi estimates only one-third of the titles they take will be foreign language.) Apparently, it all comes down to being able to focus on bigger projects. This surely translates to bigger profits, but better films? It’s hard to imagine.

Panahi, who is widely respected for her taste and commitment to movies she loves, does admit the change isn’t easy for her.

“But the only problem for me is I have to give up on my smaller films, which is hard because I love them,” Panahi continued. “At the same time, I realize there is no economy for those movies anymore.” By taking on films with less commercial potential, she said, “We’re helping the market to become more crowded and we’re helping the small distributor to be more fragile.”

“Everybody is drowning in volume,” Panahi continued.

The volume part is no surprise, with the Long Tail almost a household term these days. But drowning? Do we have to drown? Or can we find a nice little boat to navigate around in? It’s hard for me to imagine that the Long Tail is already shrinking. It’s hard to imagine that VOD and other technology advancements aren’t creating more opportunities for smaller films to find audiences. And it’s hard for me to accept the thought that Dreamachine might become just an old-school Hollywood approach to something that will barely resemble what we used to know of as foreign language cinema. Isn’t this the time of possibility and opportunity? The time to move toward something new, rather than toward old models?

At least people seem to have faith that Panahi won’t sell out entirely, in terms of making only films that are increasingly mainstream. We can only hope.

Bart’s column started with this:

Box office data this year suggests that filmgoers seem to be having a great time at the multiplexes. The critics, by contrast, may be shopping around for a new line of work.

He goes on to say that movies like 300, Ghost Rider, Wild Hogs, and Norbit have been slammed by critics but have done very well in the box office. “The situation underscores yet again the disconnect between the cinematic appetites of critics vs. those of the popcorn crowd,” Bart writes. He suggests that there are two types of movie-going public: those propelled by buzz and those who are more discriminating–the wait-and-see-what-critics-say crowd. So why are movie critics only in tune with that second demographic (and so out of synch when it comes to popular culture)?

Morgenstern’s rebuttal goes primarily like this: Audiences are Hollywood’s harshest critics, and, despite box office numbers, they’re clamoring for a higher level of filmmaking. Here’s how he puts it:

And you [Bart], like I, surely hear the drumbeat of complaints from Hollywood’s harshest critics — not those of us who are paid to ply this peculiar trade, but longtime movie lovers, and ticket buyers, who’ve come to expect a certain level of intelligence and expertise in filmed entertainment. They don’t think of themselves as elitists, and they’d rather not abandon the multiplexes until the level starts to rise come September. Week after week, though, they find themselves dismayed, and alienated, by the very productions that you point to as proof of Hollywood’s health.

I’m not sure I entirely agree with either of them. I can’t quite tell what Morgenstern is defending (his belief that Hollywood needs to step it up a notch?), and Bart’s idea that critics should “make a passing attempt to tune in to pop culture” seems to defeat the very nature of a critic.

Here’s what I think. Bart’s take on the two general types of movie-goers is right on, and we each have our advocates, guiding us along the way. Those who love getting caught up in the buzz have marketing and distribution campaigns at work for them. And those who want to think through it a bit more before laying down their money have the opinions of critics, be they professional or experts on spout.com. It seems like there’s enough room for all types to do their thing their way.

This is the last line of today’s “I did it” post by Phil deVellis. As he told the world today, he created the “Vote Different” campaign mashup ad that’s been all over the internet the past couple of weeks. Here’s another excerpt from deVellis’ post, explaining his motivation:

I made the “Vote Different” ad because I wanted to express my feelings about the Democratic primary, and because I wanted to show that an individual citizen can affect the process. There are thousands of other people who could have made this ad, and I guarantee that more ads like it–by people of all political persuasions–will follow.

This shows that the future of American politics rests in the hands of ordinary citizens.

The power of a citizen’s voice through an ad like this might come as a bit of a shock to old school politicians and campaigners. But it can’t be a surprise to anyone who has ever knocked around for a while on YouTube or who knows the term Web 2.0. Anyone with a bit of tech savvy can communicate a political opinion and create a forum, just like any “ordinary citizen” can become a famous “actor,” thanks to YouTube (or a movie reviewer with a following, thanks to Spout).

And Phil deVellis is right: His “citizen ad” will not be the last. The issue with these political ads, just as with everything else in the Long Tail, will become how to sort through all of them to find the few quality ones worth your time.

A few days later I went back to that cafe, and a barista told me what the problem had been: Some numskull was downloading a movie! Clueless or just selfish? Who knows. The point is that this whole movie downloading thing isn’t what you’d call a breeze. At least not yet.

But it’s still on everyone’s radars. The Sunday New York Times had three articles on the topic: “The Shape of Cinema, Transformed at the Click of a Mouse,” “The Revolution Will Be Downloaded (If You’re Patient,” and “Little Films on Little Screens.”

I wish the dude at the cafe had read the piece by Manohla Dargis (”The Revolution Will Be Downloaded”) before he screwed with the wireless network a couple dozen people were trying to access. Here’s a paragraph:

When all the planets are aligned and your computer has enough memory and hasn’t been deluged with spam for lots of little multicolored pills, it will function just dandy. But try to download without enough disk space and through a wireless connection, as I initially did, and you may soon wonder why you’re spending so much time and energy to watch films you’ve never heard of on your computer rather than watching a “Children of Men” DVD on your dreamy big television.

True enough.

And here are some bits from A. O. Scott’s article (”The Shape of Cinema”):

It is now possible to imagine–to expect–that before too long the entire surviving history of movies will be open for browsing and sampling at the click of a mouse for a few PayPal dollars….

…you have the potential of tens of thousands of movies competing for the burdened attention of the viewers…. How will they be sorted out? How will you know which ones you might want to see?

A.O. Scott, who says the question is asked out of plain-old curiosity, not out of fear that the professional critic is a waning vocation, ends up basically answering it later in the article:

It has become something of a truism that Web culture is driven not by traditional, top-down forms of tastemaking like the judgments of professional critics or the strategies of corporate marketers, but rather by the lateral operations of social networks.

…What will guide those choices? Will the social networks that drive taste on the Web discover new and neglected works? Will they manage to circumvent both relentless marketing and criticial myopia? If the short history of the Internet teaches anything, it’s that any decisive, early answer is sure to be wrong.

These are good questions for everyone at spout.com–employees and community members alike. The website was certainly created with those intentions–to help people sort through the “Long Tail,” to point to good movies that might be overlooked, and to listen to the opinions of real people, not marketing experts. But as with any community, the people who are in it ultimately determine the direction. We’re as eager as A.O. Scott to see what happens.

K: What have been the primary ups and downs in making and distributing Who Loves the Sun (WLTS), from a producer’s point of view?

C: It certainly has been an adventure. I think the two highest highs were getting the phone call from telefilm that they were investing in the film, and arriving on the first day of principal photography and seeing all those people and trucks. Plus, no one drowned that I know of. The biggest down was having to make a huge insurance claim because one of our cans of film got fogged. And using the porta-potties was never pleasant. On the distribution side, the film comes out in Canada on April 6th, and we are currently working on US and foreign sales, so ask me again in a few months.

K: How much did the movie cost to make?

M: about a million and change canadian, which is like about five hundred american dollars.

K: How did you keep costs low?

M: we tried to keep costs low by being mean and cheap. however, in my limited experience, once you start working with people who aren’t in your immediate family, stuff just gets expensive: folks gotta eat! in some ways, it seemed we had more time on Looking For Leonard[Bissonnette's first film], and that was a really, really inexpensive movie. i mean, we made that one out of spit and scotch-tape.

K: What ended up adding expense to WLTS?

M: greedy price gouging by oil companies, who were cynically using the cover of their iraq war, nearly sunk us. canada is a big place, so we did a lot of driving. oh yeah, setting the film on an island and shooting on water didn’t help. so cost overruns were half dick cheney’s fault, and half mine.

C: Matt is being a bit hard on himself. the way our financing worked out, we actually had mandated days that we had to shoot across two different provinces. So a story that is ideally suited to one main location turned into about six or seven different unit moves. I\’d lay 10% blame on funding bureaucracy, half on cheney, and the rest on matt. It’s funny, though, because now that it’s done, it’s strange to think of it being done in any other way.

K: Tell me more about the funding, and in particular how it helped to be Canadian.

M: telefilm canada, manitoba film and sound, and christal films (our cdn distributor) kindly paid for the film (helped along by cdn tv sales at tmn and movie central) …i love all those people. i mean, i really really love them.

C: and we can’t forget the Canadian Television Fund, a television pre-sale to showcase, and our awesome Canadian tax credits.

K: What has the marketing/distribution process been like?

M: well, since the film comes out in canada april 6th, and the us theatrical is still up in the air, we haven’t really gotten too far into that mess yet. In general, i always want people to spend more money, and to market the thing for what it is, if that’s possible.

on the festival level, the getting it out there level, reaching out to the people via the internet level, corey has been doing a real good job. these days, with a bit of hard work, it seems you can put your thing into the world, even if you don’t have much cash, or insider status, or what have you.

K: What has been your experience at film festivals?

M: i really like most fests. i enjoy the audiences, and seeing where people are at regarding film in particular and the whole ball of wax in general. i don’t have super faves, don’t care if it’s big or small, but sxsw, los angeles and london will always have a very special place in my heart, as they gave us our first breaks [with Looking for Leonard and WLTS].

K: Corey, what is your background? How did you get into film production?

C: My background is in advertising, having worked at a number of ad agencies, both on the creative end and on the strategy side, but never really being satisfied with either one exclusively. Probably something to do with my megalomaniac complex, and probably one of the reasons I got into producing. Plus, I have always been fascinated by the permanence of film, and art in general. WLTS is my first feature length film.

K: What are you focusing on these days?

C: Getting ready for the Canadian theatrical release (April 6th), working with our sales team in the US, and building an online community for the film. you too can be our virtual friend. just visit us on myspace, iklipz and imeem, as well as the facebook group who loves the sun-the movie. and, of course, on spout.com. I’ve also been developing some new projects, including two features with Matt. And none of them takes place on an island.

Matt directed and wrote the script for his five-character film, which is losely based on an idea from the Paul Auster novel Leviathan. The main idea sparked by Leviathan is the question “What happens when someone disappears?” The question Matt adds in Who Loves the Sun is “What happens when that person suddenly resurfaces?” The film’s soundtrack is wonderful (Matt talks about it in the interview), the characters and cast are wonderful, and I love the broader themes explored in the film, including secrets, lies and truths, and the importance of forgiveness and moving on.

In a second post (look for it in a few days) I’ll talk to both Matt and producer Corey Marr about some of the logistics of making and promoting their film. Watch the trailer and get more on Who Loves the Sun by checking out the official movie site and the film’s MySpace page.

Now, the interview:

K: Tell me about your background in writing and filmmaking.

M: i studied english lit/creative writing at concordia university in montreal. i seem to recall that the scriptwriting prof taught the guy who wrote Heathers, or something like that. anyway, i wanted to make a film about the time my friend’s mother drove over their family dog; sadly, the teacher of Heathers thought that was totally stupid, and he wanted me to use these little cue cards and block out a real movie (his words). so that didn’t work out so well. however, concordia has a pretty good film department, and i did a minor in theory, which was interesting, but no production.

K: What were your projects before Who Loves the Sun (WLTS)?

M: i co-wrote and co-directed a film called Looking For Leonard (2002) with my friend Steven Clarke. he had a background in production, and i learned a lot from him while making that film; in addition, when we weren’t punching each other in the face we had loads of fun. to make a long story short: movie went to a bunch of fests; had some fans; made some money; hence…they let me make another, that being WLTS.

K: How did you come up with the idea for WLTS?

M: i lifted it from the paul auster book Leviathan, then sort of forced that circle into my square.

K: How did the small cast affect the story and making of WLTS?

M: in my first film we had a fairly large cast, more than 30 speaking roles i believe, and i found there just wasn’t time to get to know the actors in the way you need to, to afford for the best possible working relationship. so, this time i intentionally wrote a story with an isolated location and small cast, hoping that even on a small budget film there would be time to get to know people, and to understand them enough to work with them. i think it was nic ray who said there’s no magic “way” to talk to actors in general, you learn how to talk to each actor in particular, same as any other kind of human.

in making WLTS, because it was a small cast, and because we shot on location very far from friends, family and home, it forced the actors to spend a lot of time together, and that, i think, created the sense of familiarity and intimacy in the film. also, i think the actors understood this, and went out of their way to make those bonds. you can’t really give direction like “be more of a family,” it’s either there or it isn’t. what you can do is try to create an environment that promotes the type of relationships you are looking for in the film.

K: Tell me about the soundtrack for WLTS.

M: i had worked with mac [McCaughan] (of superchunk, portastatic) on my first film, and that was fun and turned out well, and i was really happy when he was up for another foray into scoring.

in a nutshell, i didn’t want anything too country (moody, lonely, ry cooder guitar picking, for example), because we were shooting in a very sort of pastoral setting, and i am interested in contrasts (mix the smart with the stupid, the funny with the sad, classic with the country, etc). i wanted a sort of sirkian-movie movie score type thing, strong melodies, strings, etc. and that was about all i told mac. he has this little computer program that sketches out the melodies, which he sends along, and i drop them into the cut, sort of like story boarding, but with sound. it’s a good way to save cash, because then we have all agreed on the tracks, and they go into the studio and bang it out. we only had one sort of bump in the process. he started talking about flutes, and i mentioned i was worried about it sounding like jethro tull. “don’t fear the tull” is I believe what mac told me, and he was once again correct!

K: What do you think the role of music is (or should be) in films?

M: i believe the popular film wisdom is the best score is the one you don’t notice. i totally disagree with this bit of popular film wisdom. give me the zithers in the third man! the piano in wonderland (the winterbottom wonderland)! i don’t care for seamless, perfect films; they remind me of mariah carey songs. i believe it was david berman who said: all my favorite singers couldn’t sing. i feel the same way about filmmakers. I like things that i notice in films, and music is a huge part of this. if i don’t remember the music, I probably don’t remember the film. further, it seems to me that the best films are like songs, they hit you in a strange mysterious place, and suggest a million wonderful things you haven’t ever seen or heard.

K: So what are you busy with now? What’s your next project?

M: i’m mostly busy with raising my son, who is 5 months old. my next project is a scathing, irreverent trilogy that examines hypocrisy and racism in denmark.

The six-spread magazine feature is laid out as a series of snacks, to mimic its topic. Frankly, it gives me a bit of a headache and leaves me feel scattered and distracted. I guess that’s the point. Anyway, among the bite-sized articles:

- “403 Ways to Slice a CD ” (demonstrating how an album isn’t an album any more–it’s an opportunity to dice songs);

- “Sitcom to Bitcom” (about how former Arrested Development star is making a short-form comedy series for Innertube, CBS’ new broadband channel); and

- “4 Wii Microgames: When a Quickie Is All You Have Time For” (about Tetris alternatives that last a few seconds).

Probably the most applicable piece for Spout is “Let’s Do Snacks: A veteran film producer on why Hollywood must adapt to the short-form age.” Peter Guber, CEO of Mandalay Entertainment Group and host of AMC’s Sunday Morning Shootout, writes “It’s not written in the Bible, ‘A movie shall be two hours.’ Someone made that up to sell theater tickets.” This, of course, is true. Paul and I at Spout have lamented in earlier posts that short films aren’t more available outside the festival circuit. (Here’s a previous post on short films, and another, and another.)

But Peter Guber goes on to write: “With technology, the very definition of a story has changed. It used to mean an actor and a script. Now a story is a 15-second, no-dialog clip of someone running across the street.” Hmmm. I’m sure I’m not alone in questioning this. But while many people might question whether a 15-second-no-dialog clip is a story, I would argue that it always has been a story. Technology doesn’t have the power to change the definition of a story, it only changes how we’re able to tell that story.

Guber’s very short article ends by saying that all of Hollywood is “scrambling to construct a new model to profit from these bits and pieces…” but “…if people are thinking this is the end of Hollywood, they’re wrong. This is a whole new beginning.”

I’m very curious to see what direction Hollywood runs in with this new beginning–along a fast track to simply “profit from these bits and pieces,” or along a more meaningful path, that values art and storytelling that can still enrich our lives, just in shorter amounts of time.

(Also check out the “Top 10 Reasons We Like Lists.” Spout loves lists, too!)

I have kids, their friends are around a lot, and I find it a bit difficult to believe that we’re reaching the end of an era. Can you imagine–children not captivated by movies? Sure, there’s only so much Hollywood can do to protect itself (and the realist in me assumes they aren’t going about it right, anyway), so parents have to get involved. But kids are kids. They always have had and always will have a built-in sense of wonder. They’re captivated, creative, sponges. They’re made that way, and as far as I know, the way kids are made hasn’t changed even as new technologies and modes of entertainment have been developed. It seems like in order to dull those inbred characteristics of wonder, you really have to lock a kid in a room on a daily basis with a computer and video games and an iPod Video.

But most kids aren’t raised in that grim of a setting. And giving them some positive influence isn’t really that much work. All any kid really needs is a bit of balance (sorry, you can’t play video games all afternoon), some encouragement (let’s finish this book before we start something else), and exposure to good books, music and movies. Her amazing imagination will do the rest.

A Wall Street Journal article over the weekend by Joe Morgenstern, titled “YouTube Youth,” summed up my thoughts rather nicely. I’ll end with this:

Market forces and the inexorable march of technology will determine what’s going to be seen on what sorts of screens in what settings. Still, we can help to assure the continued existence of a receptive audience by infecting our children and grandchildren with the movie bug. Doing so effectively, though, means knowing which battles can’t be won, and which ones needn’t be fought.

The enemy, in whatever medium, is incoherence along with its partner in crime, indiscriminateness. In this fevered media environment, kids need not only to be restricted in their access to commercial junk, but exposed to what will delight and nourish them–first to children’s literature, and then to our endlessly rich heritage of motion pictures.

Exposing them is all we can do; what happens next must be an article of faith. I’m certainly a congregant, though. I believe the same lures that hooked me on movies as a kid–the spectacle, the mystery, the roiling emotions and the suspense about what happens next–can hold their own against whatever enticements the new media may serve up. First, though, our techie tots must see the flickering light.

Communities build excitement around discovering and sharing something with others, the article asserts, which is what filmmakers need to do today to make their movie stand out. This, of course, is where Spout comes in. Here’s part of what Rick has to say:

For Rick DeVos, founder and CEO of film community Spout.com, that’s where Hollywood goes wrong. “They think of community as, oh, I’ll put a message board on my Web site, and that’s building a community around this film. It’s much deeper and more complicated than that.”

Spout is a community first, a commercial entity second, and it’s powered by connections. “We’ve stolen liberally from Malcolm Gladwell’s ideas around the tipping point,” DeVos explains. “We think of our users as three components: You have the casual film consumer; you have the maven, the passionate film fan, the connector who’s tagging and blogging like crazy; and the filmmaker. We think of the maven as the way of connecting the consumer and the filmmaker. They’re a trusted voice in this sea of content.”

John Brownlee of Wired recently wrote a post about this, “Filmmakers Seek Future in Past.” He says the silent film medium was pretty much killed about 80 years ago, with advances in sound recording. Now, Brownlee writes:

Prolific modern-day directors like Guy Maddin work largely in the medium of silent film to convey postmodern tales. Silent film festivals are held annually around the world: from San Francisco to Kansas, from Italy to Australia. The Chilean subways are plastered with thousands of still images, coming to life as contiguous strips of film as the trains rumble by. And numerous groups throughout the United States have been inspired to compose and perform live original scores to silent film.

Silent film has much to offer, creatively–it doesn’t have to be left in the Museum of How We Used to Make Movies. It’s true that although certain stories and messages are very difficult to communicate in a silent film, other material can be more fully and less-awkwardly communicated without sound, or at least without words. Adding a live score allows even more opportunities to communicate and convey emotion. (Check out the Alloy Orchestra, which some of the Spout team heard accompany Lonesome at Telluride last year.)

In all, I think the revival of silent films is an exciting development, especially for musicians and composers who have a whole slew of classics to pick from and play with. But will filmmakers get excited about potential new opportunities for them? And are the opportunities really new, or are they just exercises in nostalgia? Obviously, it can go in either direction, depending on the intentions and visions of the people behind the project. In terms of moving the medium forward, here’s an interesting prediction from Cherchi Usai, the director of Australia’s National Film and Sound Archive:

Curiously, it is in the ubiquitous digital advertising displays littering modern cities that Cherchi Usai sees the future of silent film, pointing to the Going Underground film festival, a weeklong event in January where silents from local filmmakers were shown in Berlin’s subways.

“Silent cinema is penetrating our lives in new, unpredictable ways,” says Cherchi Usai. “There is a paradigm shift. This is an evolution of the silent film experience into a completely different technology. And it could not have happened before.”

As I was scanning other blogs and sites this morning, I found a few post-Oscar pieces especially worth looking at. Pajiba writes in today’s post that although they’re not interested in big awards shows…

Mostly, we just provide this post so that our readers have a space to bellyache, though it’s hard to get too worked up about anything in last night’s show. In fact, the biggest complaint we have was that the 79th Oscar telecast offered so little to kvetch about.

Pajiba’s post and some of its comments (there are lots and they’re kind of fun to sift through) also brought up some suggestions on how to make the Oscars program shorter. Not surprisingly, everyone has an opinion.

GreenCine Daily also has a day after post worth checking out. And HairyLime on Spout wrote a “Post Oscar breakdown” that was followed by a couple interesting comments. Let us know what you liked, hated, and were bored or surprised by on Oscar night.

Movie studios traditionally spend up to $25 million a year per nominated film in an attempt to secure Hollywood’s highest honor. This time around, Fox Searchlight (”Little Miss Sunshine,” “The Last King of Scotland”) and Paramount (”Babel,” “Dreamgirls”) are leading the pack. With marketing budgets commonly running around $40 million to $50 million for high-profile films, that extra $25 million smarts. But many studios feel it’s worth it.

The above is from an article in yesterday’s Daily News, called “The business of Oscar.” It seemed like a fitting, albeit depressing, follow up to Monday’s post about the push to get Half Nelson star Ryan Gosling a best actor nomination. No wonder our “who-we-think-should-win” and “who-we-think-will-win” lists rarely line up.