Why I am worried about the future of James Bond

For the first time in a long time I'm worried about the fate of what might just be my favorite film franchise of all time -- James Bond. Sure. he's been around for over 50 years now, so clearly he has a lot of staying power, but current production woes have me thinking the series may be in real trouble for the first time in decades.

The Daniel Craig era has been largely defined by the good taste and efficiency of the Broccoli family. With the one exception of the unpopular decision to try to weave the prior three films into the plot of Spectre, the last four films have been wildly popular critically and commercially (even Quantum of Solace holds up better than you'd think).

Spectre was only a disappointment relative to its classic predecessor, Skyfall, but it was a perfectly solid, entertaining entry and a huge hit.

In fact my only major quibble with the Craig years have been the lengthy gaps between the films. We are now three years out from Spectre and Bond25 which was supposed to come out next year, now appears to be in real peril.

Director Danny Boyle, who was hired to direct his own script, has quit, citing differences with Daniel Craig (rumor has it the 007 star wanted to kill off the character in the finale). And now the new Bond film might not arrive until 2020. Craig, who's my favorite Bond, but who has also long claimed to be tired of the role, will be 52 by the time the movie theoretically comes out.

Meanwhile, media speculation about who should and will eventually replace him has reached a fever pitch. I've never loved that speculation game. Craig has owned this role for 12 years and he's so undeniably great in it I'm not sure what the obsession is with tapping his replacement, especially if a film starring a new Bond (providing Craig doesn't drop out) won't arrive until 2022 or later.

I don't like the narrative that Craig is holding the series hostage -- but the fact is that no Bond has had a totally smooth exit from the role. Connery quit and came back twice, and his later outings were never as strong as his early ones. The late Roger Moore was lovable as ever in A View to a Kill but at 57, even he knew he was too old to be 007. Die Another Day, while a huge hit, is now remembered as one of the silliest Bond films ever. I could go on and on.

Spectre didn't feel like the perfect Daniel Craig send-off, but it could have been, especially since it showed 007 choosing romance over the spy game in the end. I really wanted one more go-round with him but I worry the pressure to get this last one right, mixed with the media's obsession over who's next had possibly doomed this project.

I've long since felt that no matter what the series may be in need for some re-tooling. A new Bond might have an automatic effect, and God knows the Idris Elba waiting game has gone on forever. He too isn't getting any younger, and while the concept of a black Bond will be inevitably controversial, I kind of don't care anymore -- I just want more Bond! And I want it sooner rather than later.

Spike Lee vs. Boots Riley: Why this feud is a real bummer

It's a real shame that Boots Riley has decided to pick a public fight with Spike Lee. They're both made two terrific but wildly different movies (Sorry to Bother You and BlacKkKlansman) that deserve to be commercial and critical hits, and will hopefully both be remembered by the time Oscar season officially kicks into high gear.

With Ryan Coogler's massive success with Black Panther and high profile offerings on the way from Barry Jenkins and Steve McQueen, this should be a banner year for black film.

Riley, who is an unabashed radical, has however decided to take Lee's BlacKkKlansman to task in an essay ripping the film for glorifying the police at an inopportune time for people of color nationally. Lee pushed back, pointing out that he isn't interested in castigating all law enforcement but also correctly pointing out his track record of making films that are highly critical of the cops.

I can't believe I'm saying this, because I've definitely taken issue with a lot of Lee's statements over the years, but I am completely on this side in this fight. While I agree with Riley in theory -- that far too many films put police on a pedestal, and can reinforce problematic behavior of their part -- BlacKkKlansman is not that kind of movie and yes, Lee has proven time and time again that he is on the right side of fight against police brutality (both on and off-screen).

Contrary to Riley's critique, while BlacKkKlansman does not drill down deep on its hero's efforts to spy on and presumably cripple black activist organizations, it doesn't excise that part of his story at all. and it actually conveys his ambiguity about it. I think this makes his character more fully rounded and complex.

The movie never tries to make the case that he is a saint or that his every action is the right one. In fact it is one of the more detached Lee movies I've seen in years, which makes it far more engaging. He's simply presenting the events as they unfold in the script with a relative minimum of commentary, but only a fool would take away a message of 'cops are awesome' from this movie.

First of all, there is a significant subplot involving an abusive white officer who makes a point of harassing black motorists. Lee also portrays almost all of the main character's (played by John David Washington) white colleagues and superior officers as condescending or downright hostile.

The film isn't necessarily turning them into cookie-cutter heroes, but contrasted with the KKK, they'll do.

As far as the real Ron Stallworth's anti-radical activities, I'm definitely not a fan, but that doesn't mean his infiltration of the KKK isn't an incredibly fascination story. End of story.

Look at Do the Right Thing, Malcolm X, Clockers... I can go on and on, Spike's movies have been very tough on the police -- so I think he's earned the right to tell a story that is perhaps not a pure indictment.

If Riley wants to take Hollywood to task for not providing enough accuracy when it comes to portrayals of cops I couldn't more wholeheartedly agree with him. The industry has in many ways been a destructive force by perpetuating the myth that all police are noble servants of the public.

I just don't think Lee should be his punching bag.

'Crazy Rich Asians' is another triumph for big screen diversity

Amid the hoopla over all the debates of African-American representation on film and at the Oscars, the fact has often been overlooked that Asian people are perhaps the most under-represented group of people at the movies.

Besides the occasional kung fu vehicle, Asian actors are by-and-large used only for offensive comic relief, or ignored completely. The same thing happens with Asian voters despite studies showing that they're the largest growing bloc voters.

This is part of why (but only part) the new romantic comedy Crazy Rich Asians is such a breath of fresh air.

It boasts a terrific cast featuring some newer faces and some familiar ones (Michelle Yeoh, Ken Jeong, and the breakout Awkwafina) and creates a bright new star in its heroine -- Constance Wu. And even though it's premise is fairly simple (and a little problematic if you don't like watching wealth fetishized -- and I don't) it's so assured, funny, moving and crowd-pleasing that it feels like a real return to form for a genre that has felt moribund for years.

I literally can't remember the last time a movie like this worked for me -- there's a lot to critique about it -- the lead guy is gorgeous but sort of bland and a particularly melodramatic subplot about an affair (which I assume is more fleshed out in the novel) feels very out of place -- but there's also so much to love: the humor, the look, the emotional pay-off, even the soundtrack -- this is mainstream movie-making at its finest. Even though Chinese culture is front-and-center, and integral to the plot (which for the uninitiated, revolves around a Chinese American's intense confrontation with the wealthy family of her serious boyfriend in Singapore) but the fact that every character in this film is Asian feels almost incidental.

Almost everyone is pretty fleshed out, and while this film is about very well-to-do, privileged people, the fact that it's not the same-old, super-white privileged people you're used to seeing in movies like this, makes it more enjoyable.

But all of this would feel gimmicky if the movie wasn't genuine and didn't connect emotionally and so much of the credit for that should go to Constance Wu, who gives a loose, relatable and totally convincing performance as the hero of this movie.

Here is a character who feels so grounded and who you really want to root for and she carries you through some of the movie's rougher patches on the strength of her winning personality.

And while the movie resolved itself pretty much the way movies like this are supposed to, there were enough little surprising turns and interesting shifts in tone to really keep me engaged and nearly shedding a tear from time to time.

Clearly, this is a community that deserves more exposure and more opportunities to demonstrate the diversity of personalities within it -- apparently a sequel to this breakout smash is already in the works, which is no surprise.

I just hope we'll get to see a predominately Asian film that isn't based on a best-selling book and which doesn't focus exclusively on people who are grotesquely wealthy. If I have a quibble with this movie is that almost everyone in it is exceptional -- brilliant, beautiful and in most cases -- 'crazy rich.' The movie doesn't really show ambiguity about the wealth, and in some cases it exalts it.

I'm not mad about it, but I do want to see the other side of life.

Black Panther and Crazy Rich Asians have proven that broader audiences will flock to movies about high status minorities. The question remains if they will do the same for people of color of average means.

'Never Seen It' - Episode 39 - 'Four Weddings and a Funeral'

Probably no genre has given me more mixed feelings than romantic comedies/dramas, besides maybe fantasies -- they're just not my go-to kinds of flicks. But for the latest episode of my podcast alongside my wife Elizabeth Rosado, we made an exception, and watched the 1994 hit Four Weddings and a Funeral.

Hugh Grant and Andy MacDowell lay on the charm, but why exactly should we root for them to be together? And is the real heart of the movie to be found in the likable bunch of supporting characters?

Click on the YouTube link below to listen to our thoughts, or check out the podcast (and all our previous episodes) on iTunes.

Also, once again a special shout out to Dan D'Agostino for composing our official new theme song and for editing this episode. You'll likely notice the mix is a lot better.

A look back at Stacy Keach's classic 1972 breakout

I was late to appreciate character actor Stacy Keach. I was too young too see his breakout role as Mike Hammer on television in the 1980s, and I largely knew him from terrific but small supporting roles in movies like Nebraska. But then I saw him in the 1972 John Huston movie Fat City, and he was a revelation.

Why wasn't this incredibly nuanced and soulful actor considered alongside other '70s greats like Pacino, De Niro, Caan and Nicholson? Well, there's the fact that he wasn't in the big movies those actors were in. But in 1972 he had a hell of a year for any actor.

Fat City is the more widely known picture. He plays a drunk, broken down boxer who is past his prime but also incapable of doing anything else. It could have been a cliched character but Keach brings an authenticity and specificity to his performance, making it uniquely his.

He certainly should have been in the mix for a Best Actor Academy Award for this John Huston classic, but he was overshadowed in the year of The Godfather. Ironically, Brando was originally considered for Keach's part in Fat City, and The Godfather would make household names out of Pacino, Caan and Robert Duvall.

Now this gem of a movie has been rediscovered more and more (it also stars a young Jeff Bridges) and it's now seen as one of the great little character studies of the 1970s.

But Keach had another underrated, little seen film that year that he's also phenomenal in -- it's a George C. Scott police drama called The New Centurions. I'm sort of shocked that this episodic film isn't more widely known or revered, it certainly is ahead of its time addressing a host of issues from undocumented immigrants to police brutality.

It is definitely first and foremost a George C. Scott film, he's a dynamite presence as always, but Keach emerges as a powerhouse as well, with the film effectively tracking his evolution from rookie cop to grizzled veteran.

Not unlike Fat City, the life of a beat cop movie covers terrain you think you've seen a million times, but Keach is an actor who brings a slightly off kilter physical and intellectual presence to these two movies. He is striking looking but by no means conventionally handsome (he famously has a cleft lip and consciously chose not to conceal it). His delivery is almost hangdog, he never goes for the big acting moment, instead letting others be showy while he deftly plays off them.

His timing and likability served him well when he would go on to play the chief antagonist in the two first Cheech and Chong films, which would ironically be bigger hits than any of his more prestige movies.

Clearly, Keach is doing just fine -- he's been an acclaimed working character actor for several decades now and he's always solid in everything he's in, but when I look back on these two movies, his work in the '70s in general, I can't help but wonder what might have been.

There are so many actors from that decade I adore, who either had a brief moment (Elliott Gould, Roy Scheider) or just never had the career they could have (tragically, John Cazale) and it's always a little bittersweet, especially when you look at how thin the bench is right now of consistently great mainstream acting talent.

'BlackkKlansman' is the Spike Lee comeback I've been dreaming of

After I sat through a few episodes of Spike Lee's overly self-referential She's Gotta Have It reboot I've given up all hope that he could be the same filmmaker he once was. This was especially hard for me, since Lee was always a big cinematic hero of mine and has made two of my favorite movies.

Movie after movie has been a disappointment for the last decade (with the exception of his stellar Katrina and Michael Jackson documentaries). And suddenly out of nowhere comes one of his more accessible and enjoyable movies -- the based on a true story Black Klansman.

Sure, it has a few of his eccentric quirks -- the cameo from The Wire actor who says 'shiiiiiiit,' the signature dolly shot that he uses now no matter if it serves the story or not and an unabashed lack of subtlety. But a funny thing has happened -- the Trump era -- and suddenly Lee's assertiveness and broad strokes feel totally relevant and appropriate, especially when his target for ire is white supremacy.

Perhaps this is why is new film is his first to draw real commercial and Oscar buzz in some time, it has a pretty much universally reviled bad guy, but I think it's be simplistic to dismiss this movie as a purely entertaining cops and robbers tale, there's a lot going on under the surface of this movie.

Lee purposely namecheck W.E.B. DuBois' famous writing on the duality of living that most people of color have to live with every day. They have to be both black and American, welcomed by whites and blacks simultaneously ... sometimes this dichotomy is impossible to live with or live up to.

This complex conflict is brilliantly embodied by the hero of this film (Denzel Washington's son John David Washington in a charismatic, breakout role) who is both an earnest, dedicated police officer but also someone who can't help but seem the wisdom and righteousness in black radical politics.

In the late 70s his character talks his way into being an undercover cop and then into an elaborate investigation into the KKK, where he poses as a supremacist on the phone and a colleague (an equally game Adam Driver) -- who happens to be Jewish -- must pretend to be him in person.

Despite the stakes and seriousness of the subject matter, Lee has tremendous fun with the set-up and execution of this scheme. I'm sure some people will take issue with how much of a caricature he makes of the Klansman, but I like that he portrays them as profoundly ignorant -- because they are, and ridiculing them diminishes their power.

But he also makes it plain how truly evil they are with a powerful cameo performance from the legendary Harry Belafonte, who delivers a stirring monologue about a particularly vicious episode in the Klan's history.

The rest of the film plays out almost like a more highbrow action comedy -- with bits of brilliant social satire and commentary from Lee interspersed in. For instance, this film is one big middle finger to movie's that have historically glamorized the confederacy -- namely Gone with the Wind and The Birth of a Nation, both of which are pointed called out here.

But Lee isn't just concerned with the past -- he is also clearly taking direct shots at Trump too, portraying David Duke chanting 'America First' and closing the movie with a powerful nod to the tragedy in Charlottesville.

What really impressed me about Black Klansman was that it landed these punches so effectively. While Chiraq was a tonal mess, often spewing facts at the audience rather than telling a coherent story, Black Klansman never turns it back on the audience, never gives into to too much speechifying. It makes it's points clearly but also totally effectively.

There are big laughs, but then even deeper feelings underneath them. It's a movie that has really stuck with me and I like it more and more as I think about it.

I don't know if the credit should go to Jordan Peele, who served as a producer on this and very well may have helped to reign Lee in ... but whatever it was this feels like his freshest, most fun movie in a very long time, and I've really hoping it gets the audience it deserves.

Why the Oscars shouldn't sell out to stay relevant

Like a lot of hardcore movie fans I have a bit of a love-hate relationship with the Academy Awards.

On the one hand, I love seeing movies I champion (like 2017 Best Picture winner Moonlight) get recognized (and more importantly promoted for a wider audience), they frequently just get their nominations all wrong -- embracing consensus favorites over the most worthy performances. And of course, every year the show is always too long and too self-important.

That said, the big announcement that came out today -- that they're adding a new, so far untitled category aimed at more commercial cinema -- seems like a terrible step in the wrong direction.

Other recent efforts to diversify the voting population and refine the voting pool seemed positive to me, and appeared to pay off when recent years bucked the problematic #OscarsSoWhite trend. Every year, bigger hits have competed for Best Picture alongside little seen critical darlings, and while ratings have suffered I think it has little to do with the movies being nominated and more to do with the fact that there a dwindling audience for television (even event TV in general).

Yes, in 2008 there was enormous backlash against the academy when they snubbed the biggest film of that year -- the critically acclaimed The Dark Knight -- in the Best Picture and Director races. I actually think that frustration was warranted, especially when an infinitely inferior film -- the mediocre but traditionally Oscar-baity movie The Reader -- did make the final five.

So then the academy expanded the Best Picture race to a maximum of 10, which has had mixed results. For every cool, unconventional Best Picture nominee like District 9 and Mad Max: Fury Road, there have been some embarrassing head scratchers like The Blind Side.

But when that was the only nod to commerce I was fine with it.

This new move feels even more desperate and pandering to me. For starters, it presumes audiences aren't tuning in simply because they haven't seen prestige films, but I believe a lot of the audience tuning in has seen those films, or would like to once they see them taking home major awards (an Oscar bounce at the box office is still very much a thing).

Historically big Hollywood productions have always competed with smaller fare. Titantic, Avatar, Star Wars and many other of the highest grossing films of all time have competed for Best Picture, and some have won.

Clearly, there is room both types of movies, so why isolate and ghettoize so-called popular entertainment? A move like this only makes the Oscars seem more condescending and snobby than they already are.

And my biggest fear is that my favorite film of the year so far -- Black Panther -- which is also ironically the biggest U.S. domestic hit of the year -- will pay the biggest price for this reform. Black Panther received rave critical reviews and its the first Marvel movie to receive legitimate Oscar buzz not just for its prodigious technical achievements and costuming, but for its director, Ryan Coogler, villain, Michael B. Jordan, and the film itself.

Creating this new category could divert potential legit Best Picture votes away from this beloved movie, which is widely seen as elevating and revolutionizing the superhero genre with a script that actually had something to say about geopolitics but did it with style and panache.

I saw it again recently for I think the fourth time and none of its power has diluted for me. It reminded me of the early Star Wars films, with its disarming humor, lightening quick pace and deeply felt emotional scenes. It deserves to be considered alongside traditional Oscar movies, not dismissed and or relegated to some sort of manufactured second tier.

The Oscars have always been a popularity contest so making a popular film category is a bit of an oxymoron -- it's just that it's also been about the respect of members of the industry too, and nominating a film for the traditional Best Picture race has long been a marker of respect. Those are the films that will be brought up whenever future generations look a year of cinema in total, and while winning or not winning awards is not a deal-breaker for a movie's legacy (after all so many greats won none) it doesn't hurt either.

I think what the academy has done today and what they are going to do is going to hurt some of the films I love and adore, and at the end of the day I don't think it'll fix what's broken about an awards show that I never miss, but which frustrates the hell out of me from time to time.

Robert Redford retirement is a chance to appreciate his greatness

Robert Redford in The Old Man & The Gun

Yesterday, Hollywood legend Robert Redford announced that at age 81 (he resembles a man in his mid-60s), he's officially retiring from acting. His last film is the Oscar-baity The Old Man & the Gun, which comes out later this year, and it looks like a wily romp and a fitting finale for one of the most beloved screen actors of our time.

Redford has always been special to me, both as an actor and as a director. He was my commencement speaker in college, so there's a bit of a personal connection as well.

I've previously written about my favorite roles of his -- and in recent years he's had a real resurgence after a week late 2000s output. His remarkable physical performance in All Is Lost was one of the biggest snubs of recent Oscar history, and he ended up playing a featured, rare villainous role in a movie that ironically became the biggest hit of his career  -- Captain America: The Winter Soldier -- without accounting for inflation.

It's kind of insane to me that after so many hit movies and iconic roles -- and a groundbreaking influence on independent cinema thanks to his Sundance Film Festival, Redford still remains and underrated figure for cinephiles.

The regular rub against Redford is that he was and is too good looking to be taken seriously, which of course ignores the fact that with the exception of a few romantic dramas, he almost never leaned into his heartthrob status, instead choosing to play quirky, against type leading men with charm and panache.

Certainly, there are corollaries to the careers that George Clooney and Brad Pitt would have. This is a man who picked smart projects because at the height of his career he could take his pick of any part he wanted (including Michael Corleone, in The Godfather which was absurdly pushed for him by Paramount).

His '70s output in particular is nearly flawless, with The Candidate, The Sting, Three Days of the Condor and All the President's Men standing out among some of the decade's best mainstream entertainment.

He even took four years off at the height of his popularity (from 1980-1984), and didn't miss a step, eventually carving out a solid career as director, with the standouts being Quiz Show, The Horse Whisperer and the Oscar-winning Ordinary People.

Of course, for film snobs, Redford will never be forgiven for defeating Martin Scorsese's Raging Bull in the Best Picture and Best Director categories for that film back in 1981. And yes, Scorsese's film is definitely more deserving, but that doesn't mean Ordinary People is some kind of maudlin fluff, it's a deeply effecting drama about the disintegration of a family that is told with real grace and sensitivity.

As an actor, Redford was dinged for being too cool and removed, but he gave some deeply felt performances too. His one and only Best Actor nom, for the blockbuster The Sting, is well-deserved -- although it's remembered as a buddy movie alongside Paul Newman, it's really Redford's drive for justice for his slain friend that powers that movie.

In that film, and really in all his movies, there was a fierce intelligence behind his admittedly beautiful blue eyes, and while I totally get Redford deciding to hang it up while he's still got it (he apparently wants to continue directing) I am really going to miss seeing him in movies.

'Filmworker' explores obsession of working for an obsessive genius

Stanley Kubrick is a director whose work inspires almost cult-like devotion and endless fascination -- and its easy to see why. He made, compared to his cinematic peers, a relatively small number of films -- each incredibly precise, distinct  and undeniably effective. There is no major misfire in the bunch. But there was a unsung hero behind several of them.

Leon Vitali, an actor who has a lot of promise (and who played a pivotal role in Kubrick's Barry Lyndon) but who gave up his career to become a full-time jack-of-all trades assistant to his cinematic idol.

Vitali calls himself a 'film worker' -- and an insightful new documentary (also titled Filmworker) shows that the description is apt since he wore so many hats for the temperamental genius director, from casting to the restoration of prints of all his films so they met with his exacting standards.

It was largely unheralded, unglamorous work, which is why outside of a few passionate cinephiles, Vitali's life's work has largely gone unappreciated. After Kubrick's death in 1999, he was gradually isolated by the director's studio of choice, Warner Bros., and eventually has to be financially supported by his grown children just to make ends meet.

For Kubrick fans, Vitali's work is invaluable. Not only did he help make iconic, crucial casting decisions for films like Full Metal Jacket and The Shining, but he also tirelessly worked to make sure that all subsequent screenings and reissues of Kubrick's films were of a quality that his idol and the fans.

Of course, Kubrick demanded so much of his team, his audience, and himself -- and the toll it took on Vitali is all over his face and his body. Once an attractive rising star, he now is frail and haggard shell of his former self and there is a distinct air of melancholy about him.

It's a particularly bittersweet moment when a major exhibit opens paying tribute to the late Kubrick made no effort to include him, and he opts to give tours to film students for free.

It's a shame that Vitali is so unsung because he is a striking, compelling presence. He has a rich, sonorous voice, and a gentle grumpiness about him. He is very frank about Kubrick, who he clearly enjoying a loving friendship with, but who could also be a relentless taskmaster who demanded perfection and offered faint praise.

There are few modern filmmakers who can imagine inspiring this kind of slavish commitment, and if you're not a passionate fan of Kubrick's work, Vitali's decision to abandon acting to work for him full time may seem foolhardy, but I found it inspiring.

My own curiosity is why Vitali never tried a hand at filmmaking himself, having studied at the feet of a master for nearly 25 years, I imagine the wealth of knowledge and skill he has is unprecedented, and yet he has selflessly decided to hand his legacy over to someone else, who is sadly with us no more.

And this is yet another strong entry in a banner year for documentaries. I don't know the backstory on this one, why the filmmakers decided to investigate Vitali and his massive role in the Kubrick canon, but I'm thrilled they did. Not unlike recent docs on RBG and Mister Rogers, its not exactly an expose. Besides suggesting that his work for Kubrick took precious time away from his family, this is not a film that indicts Vitali, or for that matter Kubrick.

Still, it's worth seeing if you are a fan of Kubrick, who remains a very mysterious figure, and are looking to understand more about what made the man tick and how he operated. Turns out he wasn't just this Machiavellian figure -- he could also be warm-hearted, funny and thoughtful -- and his dedication to his craft could be infectious, so much so that Vitali still carries a flame for his output to this day.

'Three Identical Strangers' is latest in a string of strong docs

The trailer for the acclaimed new documentary Three Identical Strangers promises some shocking twists and revelations, and having seen it I can safely say it doesn't disappoint. As nutty as this narrative is on its face, it does get considerably weirder.

For the most part, the filmmakers just let it's remarkable story -- about identical triplets who are reunited as young men and are forced to confront the how and why of their bizarre separation. It's likely to be a buzzy, breakout film, and it's just the latest in a string of very strong true story films in theaters this year.

Perhaps the influence of Netflix -- which has its share of terrific documentary films like Wild Wild Country, or true crime podcasts, but this genre has been on fire lately.

Earlier this year, RBG, which offered a very personal and powerful look at the life and times of Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg, was especially timely. And that was followed by the Fred Rogers tribute Won't You Be My Neighbor?, which has turned into a durable box office performer -- grossing $20 million to date. When all is said and done, it'll likely be among the top 10 highest grossing docs of all time.

It goes without saying that a great documentary can really hit emotional and philosophical notes that a traditional, scripted narrative movie never can. For instance, while often quite funny and frequently very heartwarming, Three Identical Strangers has some much more serious themes on its mind.

The film is as much an examination of what makes all of us who we are -- nature vs. nurture, as much as it about the unique circumstances of these young men's birth, separation and maturation.

There are a couple missteps -- the film pads out it screen time by showing the same archival footage  a few times too often -- but for the most part its a deeply moving examination of an out of this world series of events.

It's not surprise that there are apparently plans to make a full-length scripted, dramatized version of this story, and as terrific as this doc is I would be fascinated to see it fleshed out more. I'm hoping whoever makes it uses the same technology David Fincher did to turn Armie Hammer into the Winklevoss twins in The Social Network.

Of course, it is especially heartening that films like this can still find an audience when it feels like you are either a small prestige movie or a box office behemoth, and it often feels like there is nothing in between. Movies like this rely so much on word of mouth and aren't accessible to much of the country, even when they have a subject matter as broadly compelling as this one does.

A true story, beautifully told, can still be just as exciting as any special effect and gratifying as any big budget spectacle. Three Identical Strangers is proof of that.