The stage is set for a '12 Years a Slave' snub at the Oscars

I thought 12 Years a Slave was the best film of the past year. There wasn't even a close second for me. And yet, I am constantly hearing gripes (from almost always anonymous) Oscar voters about why it won't and shouldn't win the best picture Academy Award.

The complaints about the film always seem petty and not entirely relevant, and the tone is reminiscent of those public opinion polls where white people insist they're not racist but "people they know" are.

Gawker recently published an interview with an unknown Academy Award voter, who odds are is old, white and male. I appreciate his candor but his logic and opinions are just wrong about practically every major category.

When it comes to best picture, he voted for American Hustle (admittedly a terrific film) because, among other things, he doesn't think it takes "courage" to make 12 Years.

He says and I quote,"With 12 Years a Slave, you don't even crack a smile, but it was interesting, admirable and well done; I must say, though, that contrary to what some have asserted, it's not as if it required great courage to make this movie -- maybe if you made it in Mississippi in 1930."

Wow. So much condescension in so little time. First off, I am pretty confident that you should not expect to or want to "crack a smile" when watching a true story about a man kidnapped into slavery. I won't bother parsing dismissive compliments like "interesting" and "admirable" because I am much more infuriated by the argument that the movie lacks "courage."

Apparently this academy voter is unaware of the fact that it is incredibly hard to get a historical epic, with a predominately black, unknown cast financed, let alone pitched as an Oscar contender. Even though the story of Solomon Northup has been around for centuries it took one of the biggest movie stars in the world, Brad Pitt, to get Hollywood to take notice and even then it could only be as a modestly budgeted prestige picture.

Lupita Nyong'o in 12 Years a Slave

As for the film itself, it doesn't try to sentimentalize or whitewash a very upsetting, albeit powerful, story of of the brutality and inhumanity of slavery. Some films have tackled the topic before but not with such unflinching authenticity and emotional intensity. I can just imagine studio executives wondering aloud, 'why would anyone go see this?', and yet they have, and hopefully they will continue to regardless of what happens at the Oscars on Sunday.

I've heard people balk at 12 Years a Slave or avoid it because they are afraid the subject matter will be too unpleasant for them -- which I think is cowardly and short-sighted. But I've never heard someone having the audacity to suggest that it didn't take guts to get the movie made.

And no, it could not have been made in 1930, in Mississippi, or Delaware, or anywhere else. I don't even know where to start with that one.

Clearly there is a brewing backlash in the Hollywood establishment against the film because it was lauded so early and it was declared the presumptive frontrunner before most audiences got a chance to even see it. Oscar voters understandably don't want to feel obligated to pick a certain best picture. They want to ostensibly make their choices based on merit.

But this is what really gets my goat when it comes to 12 Years a Slave, because it truly was an extraordinary film, regardless of its subject matter, and it actually deserves to win the best picture honor.

Why does it matter? A best picture award means a lot of free publicity -- and that means a lot more tickets sold and I think it's an important film that as many people should see as possible.

But Hollywood has a long history of snubbing greater films for merely good ones.

So if 12 Years a Slave joins the illustrious class of classics that were denied their rightful prize, including Citizen Kane, Goodfellas and Raging Bull, then in a way its fitting.

Those films continued to leave a legacy long after the dust cleared from the Academy Awards and I believe 12 Years a Slave will remain a rewarding and enriching experience for those who give it a chance for many years to come.

'Heat' of the moment: The De Niro vs. Pacino debate

Al Pacino and Robert De Niro

Who's better: Pacino or De Niro? For film buffs it the epic debate equivalent of Pepsi vs. Coke.

They are arguably the two greatest actors of their generation (although Nicholson certainly warrants consideration) with groundbreaking roles that made them superstars in the '70s and several more iconic roles in the decades that followed.

Tonight, I re-watched Heat, the influential 1995 epic which remains one of my favorite crime genre movies and found myself contemplating this conversation for the ages.

The two actors both appeared in the brilliant Godfather Part II but never in a scene together. And the less said about Righteous Kill, the better. So for all intents and purposes Heat is the real showdown of their respective careers and the results are riveting.

Both do impressive work in wildly different roles. Pacino is in full peacock mode, playing an over-the-top flashy LA cop who has a sixth sense for the methods and mindsets of the crooks he chases. While De Niro plays a lonely, thorough and efficient thief who barely makes mistakes and is always ready to walk away from anything or anyone.

Watching this film, it's easy to see why De Niro might be the "smarter" choice. He is more nuanced and subtle, he is a classic film actor in that he says so much while actually saying so little. Pacino is more theatrical (and is famous for his stage work) but this is precisely why I prefer him.

As a little loud guy myself I get a real charge out of Pacino's antics and I've always argued that if an actor is great (which he indisputably is) I don't care if they are broad, because they've earned it.

Both of these actors have starred in many of my all-time favorite films, but for purely personal reasons, I am more of a Pacino fan. He is one of my favorite movie stars, actors and icons. I love the way he looks, talks, struts. There has really never been anyone else in movie history like him and because there is a little bit of him in every role he can be more iconic than De Niro (who often disappears into his parts).

Pacino and De Niro in Heat

For all his greatness, De Niro has largely embraced self parody for the last 15 years or so. Pacino's work has been shoddy too but I like that he seems to be in denial about the fact that he is 73, he still acts the hell out of everything he is in and continues to bellow and rage like someone half his age.

Still, this is a very close race for me. Their resumes are so formidable and for every great tole from one is another from the other to counter it.

Ask me again in 10 years and I might have a totally different answer for you. But put to the test I guess I'd rather be Pacino than De Niro. I like an actor who seems like they're having fun. Pacino does, De Niro doesn't. Pacino's the one with the swagger, even if De Niro gets more respect.

Heat is a curious case, it was a hit when it came out but not a massive one, with some critics considering it a letdown. It's not fast paced and it has its excesses (my girlfriend doesn't "get it"). But when the action takes hold it has a realism that is unshakable. The heist centerpiece is one of the greatest action scenes ever filmed and Pacino and De Niro's face-off is a master-class in tension under the surface.

I've heard rumors that they may team up one more time as aging gangsters for a new film directed by Martin Scorsese. It would be exciting to see these old pros prove that they still have some gas left in the tank. De Niro was my favorite part of Silver Linings Playbook and Pacino has been sporadically great in films like Insomnia and Angels in America. Maybe they can still surprise us after all these years.

I am such a huge fan I am willing to keep taking the chance on them to find out.

My top 10 for both actors (these choices aren't easy):

De Niro          
1) Taxi Driver
2) Cape Fear
3) Raging Bull
4) Goodfellas 
5) Casino
6) The King of Comedy
7) The Godfather Part II
8) Heat
9) The Deer Hunter
10) The Untouchables

Pacino
1) Carlito's Way
2) The Godfather Part II
3) The Godfather
4) Scarface
5) Glengarry Glen Ross
6) Heat
7) Dog Day Afternoon
8) Serpico
9) Dick Tracy
10) Insomnia

RIP Harold Ramis: A comedy genius and 'Ghostbuster' gone too soon

Harold Ramis in Ghostbusters

I was shocked this afternoon to learn that the great comedy writer-actor-director Harold Ramis has passed away due to a rare inflammatory disease at just 69 years old.

This man played a pivotal role in my childhood and directed some of my favorite comedy films of all time. Like top 10 worthy.

Even if he'd fallen off a bit in recent years, this is a huge loss.

Most people will remember him best as the brainy straight man of the Ghostbusters, Egon Spangler, which is fitting because he actually was the brains behind that film (he co-wrote it with Dan Aykroyd) and so many other seminal movies.

He got his first big break as a part of the first SCTV group which grew out of Toronto's (and later Chicago's) legendary improv theater (Second City) and spawned other legends like the late John Candy, Martin Short and Rick Moranis.

As someone who has dabbled in improv I can really appreciate how he infused his best comedy films with the creative spirit he likely carried from the stage. Each of his signature comedies: Caddyshack, National Lampoon's Vacation, Stripes, Groundhog Day and Ghostbusters, all contain moments that were most definitely improvised for maximum effect.

As great and legendary as Ghostbusters is, we shouldn't forget his entire -- largely quite impressive, body of work. After helping to write the 1978 classic Animal House, Ramis made his directorial debut with one of most beloved comedies of all time -- Caddyshack. That was his debut folks, and it contains some of the best work Chevy Chase, Bill Murray and Rodney Dangerfield have ever done.

He followed that up with a hilarious sidekick role opposite Bill Murray in the vastly underrated military comedy Stripes (1981) and then directed the best of the Vacation movies, the 1983 original.

Of course his role in Ghostbusters is the one that really made him a recognizable face to American audiences. His part is so tailor-made for his preternaturally geeky comic persona. He made a line like "I collect spores, molds and fungus" quotable.

Bill Murray is undoubtedly the star of that film but it's Ramis who makes the utterly ridiculous premise (laid off Columbia professors open us business to catch ghosts) plausible because he played it so straight. He seemed like a scientist, or at least what we imagine they're like.

In 1992, he crafted another masterpiece -- Groundhog Day. A movie which has only grown in stature over the last twenty years.

It's a perfect Bill Murray role, the weatherman forced to relive the same day until he can develop some social skills. Ramis and Murray made such a perfect team but unfortunately they had an infamous falling out while making this film and never worked together again. To this day neither has revealed what happened.

It's a shame because Ramis was so good at getting the best out of his scene partner/collaborator, whether it be Chase or Murray, which if you study improv is the mark of a great performer.

The best improvisers try to make the other guy or gal look good, and Ramis did that better than anyone I can think of. He will be missed but at least we still have his hilarious movies to keep us laughing.

Reel tears: Revisiting 'Terms of Endearment' 30 years after Oscar

Debra Winger, Shirley MacLaine in Terms of Endearment

I don't know what impresses me more -- that Terms of Endearment was ever made or that it was an enormous hit.

Sure, it boasts big stars -- Debra Winger, Shirley MacLaine and Jack Nicholson -- but it's a heartfelt comedy-drama about real people (some of whom are middle-aged) without pyrotechnics. This would be unheard of today.

The movie won a bunch of Oscars, including best picture, thirty years ago and unfortunately its reputation has diminished over time. It is now best remembered as a maudlin tearjerker and is unfairly lumped in with the more mediocre output of its director, James L. Brooks.

Jack Nicholson in Terms of Endearment

But upon closer examination this is a wonderfully acted, laugh out loud funny movie -- that yes, pulls at your heartstrings, but never in a cheap, manipulative way.

It is also, most importantly, a movie that looks honestly at the incredible bond between mothers and daughters -- a relationship dynamic that has gone woefully underrepresented in film history.

Winger and MacLaine's chemistry is terrific and that fact that they reportedly despised each other off-screen speaks volumes about their talent as actresses.

The movie also marks a crucial entry in the filmography of Nicholson. It helped him add more nuance to his big screen persona and re-established him as a box office draw in the 1980s when so many of his 70s-era peers were either absent or in the decline.

The cast has other terrific standouts like Jeff Daniels and John Lithgow, but the best in show awards go to Winger and MacLaine, who get to create complex, fully-rounded female characters who are not always glamourous but have real intelligence and humanity.

Why do we make fun of movies that make us cry? I guess we're just embarrassed, that something clearly fictional can elicit such a raw emotion from us. I'm of the school of thought that sometimes it's cathartic to have a good cry, especially when its couched in a comedy as opposed to some unrelentingly morose drama.

Terms of Endearment has the kind of humor that springs from social awkwardness and casual insensitivity -- which is more real than a convoluted crisis or gimmicky premise. Remember when comedies weren't about one thing?

With the notable exception of the work of Alexander Payne, this kind of bittersweet, humane comedy is totally extinct on the big screen.

And that is something worth crying about.

'New York, New York': When great directors make bad movies

Martin Scorsese is my favorite movie director. I love almost all of his films and I've seen almost all of them. But I can't, no matter how hard I try, love New York, New York (1977).

It's an overlong, self-indulgent mess but it is fiercely watchable, hence my three star rating on Netflix. But it's also mind-bogglingly off-putting in long stretches.

It may contain some of the worst acting of Robert De Niro's career. You'd think in a face-off between him and Liza Minnelli that he'd give the stronger performance -- but he is unhinged here and doesn't seem to even be directed by Scorsese. Minnelli is incredibly sympathetic if not entirely believable.

Why is she not believable? Because we are supposed to believe that she's fallen in love with De Niro's character and he is such a misogynist, childish, obnoxious weirdo that we never accept that someone seemingly as well-adjusted as Minnelli's character could love him.

That should be rule number one of the any movie that purports to be a romance -- the two leads should have some chemistry or some reason to be in love. This movie provides none.

This is a post-World War II period picture and it opens with an interminable (although beautifully shot and scored scene) where De Niro's character literally sexually harasses Minnelli's character for what seems like 15 minutes. He isn't charming, even in an offbeat way, he's positively predatory -- it's no wonder some critics compared his role to his psychopath Travis Bickle from Taxi Driver.

De Niro in New York, New York

His character doesn't so much woo her as wear her down and once he appears to have seduced her he doesn't start show any vulnerability or humanity. Instead he unveils a creepy controlling streak which is exhausting and unpleasant.

There are moments where De Niro's character seems to be suffering from some sort of acute social disorder. Scorsese has admitted that he allowed the actors to run rampant with improvisation on this film and sadly it shows.

Even an actor with De Niro's talent can and should be reigned in. Here scenes run way too long and De Niro goes off on these tangents that don't propel the story or establish anything worthwhile about the characters.

This is the first and only Scorsese movie I can think of which I find occasionally boring (I've never seen Kundun, which very well may be). It lacks the narrative propulsion that made movies like Goodfellas feel urgent and accessible.

If Scorsese's goal was to chronicle a dysfunctional relationship then the movie is a rousing success but I think his intent (or so he says) was to make an old-fashioned movie with characters who are neurotic in a modern (for 1977) way. But De Niro's behavior in particular is so erratic and caustic if defies any reality.

Take for instance the pivotal scene (spoiler alert) where his character proposes to Minnelli. He does this by dragging her to a justice of the peace without telling her why, becoming irate when she demands an explanation, him flailing around and delivering the most self-serving proposal in film history and her inexplicably caving in. Later, when her character reveals she's pregnant -- we cringe because the thought of this dysfunctional couple raising a child is truly depressing.

Scorsese movies routinely present us with images of women being mistreated and men behaving badly but here it doesn't feel edifying or entertaining -- it's just a bummer.

So why can't I bring myself to hate this film? I guess part of it is loyalty to a director I have a lot of personal admiration for. I also am well aware of the fact that most of the directors I really admire have crash and burned with films on multiple occasions (Spike Lee in particular is either genius or awful).

Scorsese on Taxi Driver set

The movie also has a lot of interesting stuff in it. I like the sets (even the intentionally superficial ones), the music, the recreation of the big band era. And the ending is actually terrific.

Minnelli is also quite good in it. I miss the days when unconventional looking actresses like her got top billing in movies.

When the movie slows down and revels in its quieter moments (such as Minnelli's rendition of "The Man I Love") it can be quite arresting. In De Niro's defense, he is committed to his role for better or worse (he reportedly took sax lessons to make his performance look more authentic). He made a strong choice with the Jimmy Doyle character but it just doesn't pay off.

Unfortunately, for a film as overstuffed and unwieldy as this one, it doesn't surprise us. You know from the moment Minnelli and De Niro's characters team up (she's the singer fronting his band) that she will outshine him and he will drag her down. So we spend roughly two hours watching them fight and in De Niro's case be rude to everyone he meets and I'm not sure what cinematic value there is in that.

I do think as a fan of film though you can learn a lot by watching a great director's failures as well as their successes. What I think Scorsese hoped to achieve was something akin to what Todd Haynes did with Far From Heaven (2002), which was to project a modern sensibility onto a film that was shot and performed in an old fashioned way. His love for the look and style of the classic films he grew up with is all over this film and he just missed the mark.

Scorsese was apparently at the peak of his drug addiction when he made New York, New York which might explain its disjointed nature. He didn't make another film for three years and when he did it was Raging Bull, a high point for himself and for De Niro.

Sometimes when we hit a false note, we can still manage to make beautiful music.

Mel Brooks' memorable year of comedy dominance turns 40

Mel Brooks

I was lucky enough to catch a very special episode of Conan in which the host (my personal favorite in late night) dedicated his entire show to the late comedy legend Sid Caesar. To pay tribute to Caesar, Conan O'Brien enlisted the legendary filmmaker Mel Brooks, who got his first huge break by serving as a writer on Caesar's landmark sketch comedy series Your Show of Shows.

Brooks, at 87, is still as sharp and funny as ever. He has such a warm, engaging personality and it was such a treat to hear him tell stories about what Caesar meant to him and how his sense of humor was influenced by his early work in television.

While watching his interview it dawned on me that Brooks' peak as a comedy director took place exactly forty years ago -- 1974 -- a year in which he pulled off an incredible feat, co-writing and directing two of the biggest comedy hits of the decade, Young Frankenstein and Blazing Saddles.

Cleavon Little and Gene Wilder in Blazing Saddles

They were very different films, with the significant exception that they both star Gene Wilder, and yet they both really connected with their target audience.

The movies are unabashedly nuts and especially in the case of Saddles, unafraid to push the boundaries of good taste.

And that's what makes them so fantastic.

Brooks will always be remembered for his creation of The Producers (on film and Broadway) and for his enviable forty-plus year marriage to the gorgeous Anne Bancroft (who sadly passed away in 2005). But for me, his signature achievement is these two madcap comedies.

Blazing Saddles was a movie I fell in love with almost instantly, probably if for no other reason than because it was a rare mainstream comedy film from my favorite film era (the 70s) to feature a black lead who wasn't Richard Pryor.

Don't get me wrong, I am obsessed with Pryor's work -- and the role of Sheriff Bart in this western spoof was originally conceived for him (and he did co-write the screenplay) -- but Cleavon Little is charm personified. His byplay with Gene Wilder heavily influenced me as a kid and his fearlessness in the face of the white racists that populate the film was inspirational to me.

Brooks had the balls to portray an old fashioned Western town more authentically than the straight westerns that it was lampooning. The townspeople are unapologetically bigoted and the humor of the film often derives from just how awful these people are.

Obviously with any Brooks film it's the gags that everyone remembers: the campfire farting scene, Madeline Kahn's German singer Lili Von Shtupp, Brooks' roles as the governor and a Native American chieftain, the defeat of Mongo ("Mongo pawn in game of life.") -- I could go on and on. The end of the movie descends into pure chaos which I can only describe as infectious for the uninitiated.

They don't make comedies this daring anymore.

Young Frankenstein, is the more cinematically sound film (although it's my second favorite of the two). Brooks and his collaborators (again Kahn and Wilder, joined by Peter Boyle, Teri Garr and Marty Feldman) crafted a loving homage to the classic Frankenstein films.

It's amazing that this black-and-white, period comedy was such a huge hit. I can't imagine modern audiences embracing something so out of left field.

When Wilder's character's creation (Boyle) puts on a tux and tails and performs "Putting on the Ritz" it is impossible not to crack up. It's an ingenious scene. There are so many jokes packed into this film ranging from the ridiculously silly (Igor pronounces his name Eye-gore) to the truly odd (virtually every scene).

Brooks' post 1974 output was more hit or miss for me (although History of the World Part I, Spaceballs, Silent Movie and Robin Hood: Men in Tights all have their moments). But that year a short, balding, middle aged comic with roots in TV dominated Hollywood and that's really cool.

Mel Brooks deserves a lot more credit that he deserves, for making mainstream comedy edgier and for introducing a little inspired mayhem into the movies.

The Gene Hackman 'Conversation': Why I miss this big screen giant

It seems weird to categorize Gene Hackman as just a character actor (not that there's anything wrong with that) because he was such a huge movie star.

Gene Hackman in The Conversation

But he excelled so much in supporting roles and had so much range (he was convincing in dramas, comedies, action) that it's hard to pin him down with a particular persona.

For instance, he is introverted and tragically sad in Francis Ford Coppola's brilliant 1974 movie The Conversation (which I revisited last night) and he is just as great as the boisterous, scheming patriarch in 2001's The Royal Tenenbaums.

Sadly, he abruptly retired from making movies exactly 10 years ago, his last film being a forgettable political comedy called Welcome to Mooseport which was ostensibly supposed to launch a big screen film career for Ray Romano

I believe Hackman now writes historical fiction and is well into his 80s. He's one of those actors who always seemed middle-aged and up, and indeed the role that made him an A-list superstar, Popeye Doyle in The French Connection, came when he was already 40. Still, he was always a very vital, intense presence in whatever movie he was in. You never will see a lazy Hackman performance.

I miss this guy because he made consistently great, not just good, movies and I think there is still great work to be seen from leading men from his era (I'm talking to you Hoffman, Pacino, De Niro, Nicholson et. al.). Of course, being the least flashy of his peers, Hackman often is overlooked when people site their acting idols, but not with me.

Here are my top 10 favorite performances of his:

10) Heist (2001): Probably the best David Mamet directed film I've seen. As I've said before I am a sucker for films about thieves and this one is very tightly written and constructed. Hackman takes a cliched role, the crook out for one last score, and really elevates it.

9) Get Shorty (1995): Hackman, who often plays the heavy in mainstream movies, is hilarious in this satire as a wimpy director of trashy B-movies who runs afoul of crooks. Hackman is an underrated comic actor as evidenced by his work here and in The Birdcage and Young Frankenstein.

8) Superman (1978): Ever superhero movie villain (even Jack Nicholson's The Joker) owes a little bit to Hackman's devilish performance as the supremely self-confident Lex Luthor. He brought a light comic touch but also a little menace to a part that could have been silly but totally worked opposite Christopher Reeve's iconic portrayal of the Man of Steel.

7) Crimson Tide (1995): Hackman faces off with Denzel Washington over control of a submarine in this thinking man's thriller. It's an excellent showcase from two legendary actors at the top of their game. Hackman could play this kind of stubborn villain in his sleep but there is a real tension and righteous anger in his performance that is unforgettable.

6) Night Moves (1975): One of those great, overlooked and dark noir films from the 70s golden age of film. Director Arthur Penn (who also cast Hackman in Bonnie and Clyde) crafts a top-notch mystery and Hackman is excellent as the grizzled private investigator Harry Moseby. Some nice, surprising twists in this one.

5) Mississippi Burning (1988): An excellent film about the civil rights era investigation of the murders of three activists (two white, one black) in the deep south. Hackman excels as a cynical Southern cop who has unorthodox methods but gets results. He has a monologue on what breeds racism which may be my favorite explanation on the psychology of that kind of prejudice -- it's about class, not color.

4) The Conversation (1974): His most subtle and heartbreaking work. Hackman plays a surveillance expert named Harry Caul who's driven nearly mad by paranoia and an obsession with a job that he fears might lead to someone's death. Dark, moody and thoughtful, this is the kind of character piece that can't get made anymore so we should cherish the fact that at one point they were.

Gene Hackman in Unforgiven

3) The French Connection (1971): This is the movie that won Hackman his first Oscar and made him an unlikely movie star. Oddly enough he plays a violent, racist and ultimately unhinged policeman in this riveting and realistic crime thriller. That Popeye Doyle is actually appealing is a testament to Hackman's warmth and charisma.

2) Unforgiven (1992): Hackman won his second Oscar for his brutal villain Little Bill in Clint Eastwood's classic western. He is both darkly funny and terrifying in this film. I like how his character thinks of himself as noble and principled yet engages in savage cruelty when he feels it suits his purposes. And I love the moment when he says "I don't deserve to die like this."

1) The Royal Tenenbaums (2001): Pure, unadulterated joy -- that's what this performance is for me. This remains my favorite Wes Anderson film (although I love them all except for The Darjeeling Limited). The lead role of the "real son of a bitch" Royal Tenenbaum was supposedly written for Hackman and it shows. it's a pleasure to watch the way he bites into the dialogue with relish. And he's positively buoyant in scenes with each member of the eclectic cast.

So in closing: Come back Gene Hackman, come back!

'The Birds': It's all about women at the end of the day

Alfred Hitchcock's The Birds (1963) is an extremely strange movie.

It's half character study and half horror film. It is nominally about an unexplained siege of a coastal town by raging crows, seagulls and sparrows -- but what it seems to really be about is repressed female sexuality.

I have a theory which may not be entirely smart or remotely accurate, but I will pontificate on it anyway.

'Birds' was British slang for girls (perhaps derived from 'chicks', who knows). I think Hitchcock knew exactly what he was going with that title.

Also, in his legendary sit-down interviews with French filmmaker Francois Truffaut, Hitchcock straight-up said that the movie was entirely about the three main female characters played by Jessica Tandy, Suzanne Pleshette and 'Tippi' Hedren in her first movie role.

'Tippi' Hedren in The Birds

Coming on the heels of one of his biggest hits, Psycho, Hitchcock was probably under pressure to continue his winning streak and while The Birds was a hit, I don't know that its reputation is as strong as some of his more highbrow efforts like Rear Window and Vertigo.

It's understandable that some audiences aren't immediately charmed by The Birds.

So much of it looks artificial, the first two thirds is very talky and when the birds finally do arrive the relentless squawking can be grating. But if you look below the surface there's some pretty fascinating stuff afoot.

The three women the film revolves around are intriguing because of their barely hidden eccentricities.

There's 'Tippi' Hedren's lead character Melanie Daniels, a woman who brazenly pursues a man named Mitch (played by the dashing Rod Taylor) she just met, even taking a rickety speedboat across a bay just to engage in some innocuous flirtation.

She eventually encounters Pleshette's character, a woman who was once jilted by Taylor's leading man and still moved to be near him anyway. Their exchanges, always seemingly pleasant, actually have a hostile undercurrent which is fascinating to watch.

Finally, there's Mitch's wildly overprotective mother played by the great Jessica Tandy, who literally looks at Hedren with terror every time she sees her. She immediately sizes her up as a slut ("a girl like that" is the tasteful way she diminishes her) and makes no secret of the fact that she doesn't approve of her son dating her.

Rod Taylor in The Birds

The film interrupts their three-way battle for the affections and attention of Mitch with the high-pitched assault of murderous creatures swooping in from above. I assume their ferocity is meant to represent the barely submerged contempt each of these women feel towards each other.

Much has been made of the so-called Hitchcock blonde, their supposed icy perfection that the director will inevitably turn upside down through some torturous plot device. I am, however, not convinced that the filmmaker had such an inherently nasty disposition towards women.

Certainly his films tend to have a sort of conventional Hollywood sexism that can be dated at best. The women are usually victims in his films, and this one is no different, all of them seem to look to Mitch to save them and give them direction when disaster strikes.

Still, he doesn't cast women to be merely eye candy. Janet Leigh, Kim Novak, Grace Kelly et. al. have a lot of complexity and more agency than in most traditional films of their period.

The Melanie Daniels figure in particular is an intriguing one because she is not especially likable. Hedren had a far more haughty bearing than previous Hitchcock heroines, which comes off as more modern today than it probably did fifty years ago.

That a woman like this would literally strike fear into the hearts of a California coastal community is relatively unthinkable now, but in 1963 it was an acceptable conceit. So in that way the film is a glorious pre-women's lib time capsule.

The scene where a local woman grows hysterical and blames Hedren's character for somehow bringing the plague of bird attacks upon their town probably plays campy today but it was wholly serious in '63 which is kind of incredible.

Today, this movie is, rightfully so, remembered for establishing the seemingly banal "creature feature" - the idea that a shark or some other part of nature will suddenly strike without warning. But it also had some pointed commentary on the state of male-female relationships that is worth revisiting.

I love how Hitchcock movies always present rewards for repeat watchers. I guess that's why they call him the Master.

'Cape Fear': 20 reasons this is one of my all-time favorites

Robert De Niro in Cape Fear

I've always loved Martin Scorsese's Cape Fear (1991) and will defend it to the bitter end.

I know film snobs perceive it as a lesser Scorsese because it is so overtly commercial but they're nuts.

This film is genius with a capital G and here's why:

1) I find it endlessly quotable and not just the De Niro one liners, Jessica Lange's dialogue has a poetic intensity and Joe Don Baker gives a beautiful speech about the "fear" inherent in the American South's psyche that is one of my all-time favorites.

2) As in most Scorsese movies, you are never bored. He makes even the most seemingly banal moments like, the closing of a door, seem riveting thanks to the director's placement of the camera and invaluable editing from my favorite non-fiction Thelma.

3) Nick Nolte and Robert De Niro are so young and virile in this movie. I miss bad ass head-to-heads like this or The Fugitive (where a formidable Harrison Ford and Tommy Lee Jones faced off). I love mano-a-mano clashes in movies, they're always so compelling. Again, the 1989 Batman is my favorite movie ever, so go figure. But back to my original point -- neither Nolte and De Niro both rarely been this electric in years.

4) Speaking of electric, Jessica Lange is so sensual and brilliant throughout. It's sad to think that no one under the age of 25 knows that she used to be such a great beauty.

5) Just realized this is one my top 25 favorite movies. Something is going to have to be cut from the list.

6) I love Juliette Lewis in this! She is playing a real teenager. We are so used to teens being written as just as thoughtful and witty as adults when they're just not. Most teens aren't articulate and quite a few are plenty dumb. People didn't get what Lewis was going for her at the time but she was an 18-year-old playing a 15-year-old.

7) Nobody will ever forget the scene where De Niro (spoiler alert) bites Illeana Douglas' cheek off. The scene leading up to is scored to the thoughts in the head of De Niro (Max Cady). It's a brutal moment and a rare portrayal of a woman actually being battered. The sheer bizarreness of it lingers in your subconscious and make you feel like Cady is capable of anything.

8) Illeana Douglas is just heartbreaking in a small but pivotal role.

9) There is a quick cut in this which is one of my all time favorite. Lange and Nolte get into a fight and he gives her a very movie-ish speech about how they should work together "as a team," quick close-in on Lange's disgusted face. Then smash cut to Nolte stuck frustrated, sleeping on the couch.

10) The film, like most of Scorsese's, can be enjoyed with the sound off, he is working at the top of his visual, rhetorical skills. Hitchcock films always work with the sound off too.

11) You are forced to have sympathy for someone who is horribly flawed. The hallmark of all Scorsese films -- even The Last Temptation of Christ.

12) I'd rather see an entertaining bad movie than a boring "good" one. I think the legendary film critic Pauline Kael said that or at least something similar. Not that this movie is bad, but it risks being ridiculous which I admire. This is part of why adore De Palma (and this film is kind of like if Scorsese made a De Palma film) he always aims for the rafters. Sometimes he misses, but I love that he's going to try to create real movie moments.

13) I love how out-of-control Nick Nolte is in this movie. Leading men rarely get ruffled anymore. They are always sleek and sophisticated. I love that he becomes a wild animal by the end -- and who doesn't enjoy a good Nolte meltdown.

14) The scariest villain has nothing to lose and isn't afraid of death. The Joker. Hannibal Lector and Max Cady. These guys are not afraid to die, they almost welcome coming to the precipice of death. In Cady's final scenes he definitely sings as he drowns and then stares intensely forward unblinking as he descends to hell. This is a creature who will haunt your dreams.

15) This is not "just another" De Niro psycho role. Travis Bickle (from my other favorite Scorsese movie) could not be more different from Cady. Bickle is an introvert, can't talk to women, doesn't understand them. Cady is charming in a reptilian sort of way and he is the biggest, loudest showman in the room.

Jessica Lange, Nick Nolte and Juliette Lewis

16) I prefer actors that go big. My favorites, Al Pacino, Marlon Brando, Jack Nicholson, they all do this -- it's just more fun to watch, they seem to be enjoying themselves. I don't want to watch someone who seems to be performing out of a place of misery. Kind of how I felt about Joaquin Phoenix until he discovered he could be light and funny in Her.

17) I have to get the soundtrack.

18) Cameo from my girlfriend: "The thug ascends into an intellectual and the intellectual descends into being a thug."

19) I've been on a real Gregory Peck kick lately. I just love his voice and his bearing.

20) The image of someone creeping at the end of my bed has always been one of my most consistent nightmares thanks to this movie and Twin Peaks. Nothing probably scares me in the world more than home invasion (well, maybe a random deranged gunman) but other than that I definitely tend to freak out that someone is hiding at the foot of my bed.

So there you have it. Cape Fear is a fresh, frightening and fierce fever dream and I love it death.

Don't call it a comeback, 'Beetlejuice' has been here for years

Michael Keaton in Beetlejuice

For over 25 years now we have been teased with the possibility of a Beetlejuice sequel. A goofy follow-up called Beetlejuice Goes Hawaiian was in the development stages in the early 90s but was shelved inexplicably.

Now new comments from star Michael Keaton have reignited the rumors of a part two.

There is a script in place, Keaton is on board and so is, apparently, director Tim Burton. Here's why I am excited...

Beetlejuice has long been a favorite of mine and although Burton has been very hit or miss for the last few years, when he teams up with Keaton (one of my favorite actors) he can do no wrong. The original 1989 Batman is my favorite movie of all-time (I'll get into that in another post) and its sequel, Batman Returns, is flawless in my opinion too.

As far as I know Burton and Keaton had a great working relationship so it's a shame that they haven't collaborated since 1992. I remember hearing talk that the director considered Keaton to play the lead role in his reboot of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, which I probably would have been more intrigued to see than whatever he did with Johnny Depp (I never saw it, I thought the Gene Wilder version was perfection).

For some reason, Burton has been fixated on Depp, not unlike the way Scorsese has made DiCaprio his muse, but with far more disappointing results. I loved Ed Wood and Edward Scissorhands, and Sleepy Hollow was decent if memory serves.

Yet with the exception of Sweeney Todd I have been turned off by their recent collaborations. It seems like Burton is in this strange rut where he has become a parody of himself. And Depp just seems to be acting "quirky" instead of actually being funny or interesting.

I miss the Burton of 1988 who made the original Beetlejuice, and original is the best way to describe the movie and why it has such an enduring appeal. Sure, it's on Comedy Central constantly but it's also really damn funny and inventive. There really hasn't been a mainstream comedy like it since it came out and it's become a part of our cultural landscape -- Beetlejuice has become a way to describe anyone or anything with a tiny head or someone in a stark black and white suit -- think about that.

The movie took everyone by surprise when it came out and why wouldn't it? A movie about a cute couple who die (Alec Baldwin and Geena Davis) and try to scare away the family of yuppies that move into their home -- that doesn't have hit written all over it. Throw in old Harry Belafonte songs, a Handbook for the Recently Deceased and a title character with not a lot of screen time but some of the fastest, funniest dialogue I've ever heard.

Michael Keaton in Beetlejuice

I can't think of this movie without thinking of Keaton's laugh-out-loud funny "commercial" as Beetlejuice when he promises to "eat anything you tell me to eat" and then hollers "I'll chew on a dog!"

I have no doubt Keaton has still got it. He doesn't make a lot of movies anymore and when he does he's usually been the best thing in a mediocre film (I hear he's the best thing about the new Robocop).

Still, The Other Guys did show me some of that classic Keaton riffing that I've been missing and I think he's game to show us what he can do by reprising one of his best-loved roles.

Tim Burton, I'm not so sure about. Can he recapture some of his old manic spirit? He used to make genuinely macabre masterpieces. Now, he seems to be treading water. He's been largely rebooting other people's ideas in the last 15 years (Planet of the Apes, Alice In Wonderland, ughh...).

Can he come up with something fresh and new for a sequel?

Sometimes his first impulses are terrible. For instance, he originally thought of casting the late Sammy Davis, Jr. to play Beetlejuice. That would have probably been a huge mistake, with all due respect to Davis. And I'll never forgive him for his "insult" to Wilder's version of Wonka.

So maybe the new screenwriter can save the day? Uh-oh. It's Seth Grahame-Smith. His credits to date include Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter and Burton's flop Dark Shadows. So he's 0 for 2. Not too encouraging.

As I've written before, rebooting a franchises after decades have passed is almost always a dicey proposition. It's just so hard to recapture what was magical about the earlier films. Yet with Beetlejuice there always felt like there was more you could do, new adventures to explore (hence the animated series) and with modern special effects it seems like you could expand the character's world and powers (although the scene where Beetlejuice turns into a snake scared me pretty effectively when I was a kid).

At least they had the good sense to keep Keaton in the title role. It would be unthinkable to proceed without him, as the makers of Ghostbusters 3 are foolishly trying to do in the case of Bill Murray. Winona Ryder may return as well -- which is exciting. No word yet on Davis and Baldwin.

I am keeping my fingers crossed, even if all signs point to a likely disaster.

Valentine's Day: Romantic movies have never been my cup of tea

Witness

Romance has never been my favorite film genre.

I have never seen The Notebook and probably never will. It's not some masculine bull either, I just find sappiness exhausting.

Falling in love is fun but it's also awkward and films so rarely get that right.

The dramas usually just show us two gorgeous people staring into each other's eyes until one of them is stricken with (or later reveals they have) a debilitating illness.

And for me the comedies don't work much better because you know that these two people will eventually get together so there's almost always no suspense.

Moonstruck

That said, it is Valentine's Day, and I want to get into the spirit of it so here are a few love stories that I really like:

Annie Hall (1977): Say what you will about Woody Allen but he made for an endearing (if unlikely) romantic lead alongside best actress winner Diane Keaton in this hilarious and heartfelt comedy which remains his most popular and acclaimed film. Allen scored his one and only Oscar nomination for acting for his quintessential leading role.

The Bridges of Madison County (1995): It should have been terrible -- it was based on a weepy bestseller with a somewhat played out premise, drifter romances lonely housewife. But Clint Eastwood (who directed) and Meryl Streep (doing a flawless Italian accent) elevate the material to a more highbrow level. This is some of the most sensitive acting of Eastwood's career -- an overlooked gem.

Say Anything (1989): Cameron Crowe's films rarely hold up well for me (that goes for Jerry Maguire and Almost Famous too) but this one does. I've always argued that the famous boombox scene would be irredeemably creepy if it wasn't John Cusack, but hey, it is. A sweet and honest ode to awkward post-high school relationships.

Harold and Maude (1971): I wasn't feeling this one the first time I saw it. It was overwhelmed by hipster hype. But on second viewing I had a blast with it. This Cat Stevens-scored masterpiece made an unlikely love affair between an 80-year-old (Ruth Gordon) and a depressive young man (Bud Cort) plausible and poignant.

The Bridges of Madison County

Moonstruck (1987): There has always been plenty snark about the fact that Cher won an Oscar when so many more highbrow performers haven't but if you actually watch this movie it's hard to argue that she didn't deserve it. She's fantastic as a woman who comes into her own through the love of an exceedingly eccentric man (Nicolas Cage in one his best roles) who happens to be her fiance's brother!

Witness (1985): Sure, it's really a thriller but it's the doomed romance between Harrison Ford's city cop and Kelly McGillis' traditional Amish woman that haunts you when the movie is finished. Their love affair is so passionate and compelling, your heart aches because you know it can't last. An underrated classic.

Modern Romance (1980): Not really a traditional romantic film -- this brilliant dark comedy (a favorite of Stanley Kubrick) is genius vintage Albert Brooks. The comic actor-director-writer plays a neurotic guy who just can't get over his longtime girlfriend who he dumped. So painfully funny because it's so true.

Forgetting Sarah Marshall (2008): Again, not an obviously romantic film but one of the few Apatow-produced movies that still charms me (Superbad and The 40-Year-Old Virgin being the others). I think to a certain extent it's because Jason Segal is such an earnest and appealing leading man -- and the premise of finding love while trying to get over a girlfriend is extremely accessible.

The Age of Innocence (1993): The ultimate unrequited love story -- which is a concept I am sadly, very familiar with. Martin Scorsese (my all-time favorite director) steps out of his comfort zone by making a period piece set in 1870s NYC. Daniel Day-Lewis and Michelle Pfeiffer give exquisite, sensual performances.

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004): One of the best movies of the last 15 years remains fresh and original. It's the best Charlie Kaufman film because it has the most human streak in it. Despite its endlessly inventive plot (about memory erasure) I've never seen a film portray falling in and out of love more accurately.

Punch-Drunk Love (2002): Adam Sandler showed just how must talent he is squandering in this strange, but lovely, little movie about an uptight man with serious anger management issues who falls for an adorable and understanding woman (Emma Watson) who steps into his world. Kudos to the score which pays homage to Popeye.

Casablanca (1942): Speaking of classics, this legendary World War II film featuring Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman in their respective signature roles is beloved for a reason. This movie has all the elements -- romance, intrigue, heartbreak and wit. The movie is so quotable and iconic people usually overlook how touching the love affair between the leads actually is.

Bringing Up Baby (1938): The blueprint for all great romantic comedies. One of the fastest paced, silliest romps with a pitch perfect Cary Grant and Katherine Hepburn running in circles around each other. It's impossible not to watch this movie and walk away without a smile on your face.

Roman Holiday (1953): One more late entry to this piece -- and in my defense I only saw it recently all the way through -- but I had to add it because it's such a whimsical yet totally pragmatic fairy tale with two of the most luminous leads (Gregory Peck and Audrey Hepburn) you will ever see.

Ok, so I lied, I guess I am a bit of a romantic after all.

'Vertigo': How my favorite Hitchcock film proves silence is a virtue

Jimmy Stewart in Vertigo

I have something of a love-hate relationship with old films. I love how they take their time to unfold without a lot of flashy editing but with incredibly well-written dialogue.

I hate how they are often neutered by Hollywood censorship and more often that not plagued with offensive characterizations of women and people of color.

Yet Alfred Hitchcock has always hit the sweet spot for me. While his films were almost never explicit (with the shocking exception of 1972's dynamite and disturbing Frenzy), he always managed to sneak some really sinister and surreal ideas in his films.

My all-time favorite without question has always been Vertigo (1958), I think I saw it for the first time in college and immediately was struck with its lush beauty and themes of obsession and duality. As I grew older I've come to realize that these topics may be my favorite in film.

Although it was not a hit when it originally debuted, Vertigo now routinely ranks among the greatest films of all time and with good reason.

Re-watching it tonight on a gorgeously-transferred blu-ray print I am struck by the usual sensations: Bernard Herrmann's incredible score, Kim Novak's sexy and mysterious heroine and Jimmy Stewart's broken and, at times, disturbing hero.

I was also struck by its silences. The movie boldy risks alienating audiences (especially modern ones) with languid scenes of Stewart's private eye character following Novak's "haunted" housewife. The plot is so twisty and bizarre I'd rather not divulge it but I will say that just like nearly all of Hitchcock's masterpieces it's really not about the plot at all, the film is rich in deeper themes.

I wouldn't recommend it for the uninitiated. Psycho, North By Northwest or even Strangers on a Train are all far more accessible to someone who's unfamiliar with Hitchcock's style of filmmaking.

But for me Vertigo brings unique pleasures every time I see it. It may be the best looking and best shot film of its era.

And it has some very subversive things to say about how men often want to turn women into fantasy objects and how we as film-watchers crave a certain dream-like gratification as well.

When I was a mediocre film student back at Bard College, I tried to get at that with a term paper I wrote on the character of Midge (played by the charming Barbara Bel Geddes). I got stuck on her character because she stood out when I first viewed the film, she seemed to only function to provide exposition for the Stewart character but she was too quirky and assertive to be easily dismissed.

Vertigo

I came to realize that she is a representation of the real world. She has a job, she's grounded with reasonable opinions and attitudes.

She provides a counterpoint to the ethereal Novak character and because she offers Stewart character reality he runs from her because for him (and most conventional men of that time and today) that scares him - he's programmed to think that he'll feel trapped and bored.

He opts instead for a woman he can mold, control and "save", because that keeps him on his toes.

And isn't that why we go to movies anyway, to escape. To be voyeurs or to at least, for a couple hours, transport ourselves to another world or put ourselves in someone else's shoes. Sometimes it's to leave our fears by the wayside if just for a while.

Vertigo is about the literal fear of heights but also the anxiety of confronting life head on. If you've never seen this classic before or are viewing it for the first time, pay close attention to those scenes between Stewart and Bel Geddes. What an awkward dance they do, every line and gesture is very specific and purposeful ("You don't even know I'm here, do you? But I'm here," she tells him) all in the midst of a wildly entertaining mystery.

Sometimes they're right when they say they don't make them like they used to.

'Prisoners': The most underrated movie of the past year

Jackman, Howard and Dano in Prisoners

"Be ready."

Those are some of the first words of dialogue uttered by Hugh Jackman's character in the excellent thriller Prisoners.

I also feel like they could serve as a warning to film audiences viewing this film expecting just another missing children melodrama.

When Prisoners opened last fall it made decent money but it wasn't the runaway success I think it deserved to be.

It also went ignored by the Oscars which, in my opinion, was a shame.

This dark, brooding picture was the most underrated of the year, features a career-best performance from Hugh Jackman and powerful work from Melissa Leo, Viola Davis, Paul Dano and Jake Gyllenhaal.

I watch a lot of movies, probably far too many, so for me the criteria for loving a movie as opposed to enjoying it has a lot to do with how much it surprises me and Prisoners, for all its trailer revealed, is almost always unpredictable.

You likely already know the premise -- two seemingly normal couples (played by Jackman, Maria Bello, Davis and Terrence Howard) allow their little girls to step outside briefly but then they go missing. A "suspect" is apprehended but then turned loose and the authorities are out of ideas. So Jackman takes matters into his own hands.

What could have been a tired exploitative movie actually raises serious questions about what lengths we would go to to protect and save the people we love. Which meets another one of my checklist for great vs. merely good: does it make me think once I've left the theater?

Hugh Jackman

So much of mainstream entertainment is fleeting. For instance, I remember really enjoying Pacific Rim for what it was when I first saw it last summer and its now vaguely hazy in my memory.

This movie delivers action and suspense, it is never boring, but it also takes you deep into its character's psyches and it isn't afraid to take its time to let its complex story unfold.

And like I said before the performers take chances. Gyllenhaal gives an oddball performance (that blinking!) playing against his pretty boy persona and Paul Dano adds yet another unforgettable addition to his array of creepy characters.

For me though, the real revelation was Hugh Jackman -- who just may be more deserving of an Oscar nomination than say Christian Bale and Matthew McConaughey (as terrific as they were in their recognized roles). This was the first time he didn't just seem like he was trying really hard to act. He becomes his character, he shows his fear and vulnerability and eventually becomes quite scary.

And the movie itself (directed by Denis Villeneuve) is bold because it doesn't give you a convenient conclusion, leaving you with a haunting callback to a theme established early in the film.

Prisoners deserves to be rediscovered before it is banished to movie jail -- where forgotten films go to die.