Lost and Found: A journey of discovery with "The Wizard of Oz"

Four misfits creep forward in an illumined chamber. Fire shoots from the altar in front of them. They cower, waiting for the Great Oz to reveal himself and relieve their problems. One, a scarecrow, needs a brain. Another, a tin man, a heart. And a confused lion looks for the closest escape, in desperate need of some courage.

Sounds like a fairy tale.

It is, one of the most beloved of the cinema generation. Victory Fleming’s The Wizard of Oz brought Technicolor roaring to the front of film in 1939, inspiring decades of innovation in design, special effects and even story.

But the tale’s punch lies in the familiar arc of its characters, the satisfaction of our expectations after a long and perilous journey.

Everyone has that one thing they would change about themselves. Maybe they’d be a little funnier or more self-confident. Maybe they’d sprout a couple extra inches. Or shed a few extra pounds.

In Oz, though, you wear your flaws right on your sleeve. Even Dorothy, and her little dog Toto, bear an obvious need: to find a way home and atone for past wrongs, for taking the little things for granted like a family’s love. As an audience, it’s easy to find a little bit of ourselves in each of the characters and we’re pulled along for the ride.

We’ve all felt a little helpless at all we find in the world, wishing for a bigger brain like Scarecrow. Or felt at a loss to understand the pain of another, praying for a bigger heart like the Tin Man. Or trembled in the face of danger, real or imagined, and searched for courage like the Cowardly Lion.

And we’ve all yearned for that trip home like Dorothy, back to the comforts of life not complicated by the worries of the world or wicked witches, flying monkeys and misguided charlatans.

Sometimes, I guess it takes extraordinary circumstances.

Fleming interpreted L. Frank Baum’s 1900 novel as a dream, a break from the original writer’s vision. So Oz becomes a series of tests and trials as Dorothy confronts the fears and uncertainties waiting back home in a bright world full of wonder and danger.

She picks up three companions along the way, and their inadequacies allow Dorothy to find a strength she didn’t know she had. She guides the unlikely quartet with an increasing confidence after they brave the Wicked Witch’s castle and return triumphantly to Oz with her broomstick in hand, mirroring the wretched old woman who drove Dorothy away from her home in Kansas in the first place.

By the film’s end, Dorothy feels strong enough to even stand up to the Wonderful Wizard himself. She scolds and scorns the man behind the curtain as he continues to twist and mold his lies to the changing circumstances. She’ll no longer stand aside passively, waiting for deliverance, but takes action to get what she wants.

She discovers, and so do we, that she had the power all along. All she had to do was close her eyes and will it to be so. The power of choice, an age-old fable for a reimagined fairy tale.

Employees Only: "Casual Friday"

Only two more episodes in Season 5? I wish there were more.

I can't say anything except The Office has found its groove in the latter half of this season and is consistently exploiting its plot situations to nearly perfect comedic effect.

The cold openings are always on point. Kevin spilling his prized chilly this Thursday? I was on the floor.

Michael, Ryan and Pam forming this little in-office posse? Dwight retaliating with a secret mutiny? Phyllis's biting barbs at Pam?

"Close your mouth, honey. You look like a trout."

Love it.

I love when the U.S Office emulates that bitter tone of the U.K. original. The writers are really hitting that mark these last few episodes and succeeding on almost every front.

My one question is I don't see a clear direction for the season finale. But I'm okay with that. My confidence is restored.

A Few Mornings After: "The Variable"

Fuck me sideways.

Only LOST can leave your mind spinning and your gut wrenching like "The Variable" did last Wednesday night.

The shrill strings rise as the life drains from Faraday's eyes, fixed on the terrible realization of his mother's cunning.

Fuckin' epic.

I'm sorry for the French, but this show inspires that kind of emotions in a viewer.

"The Constant" is widely regarded as one of the most important LOST episodes and its sequel carried on the tradition. The relationship between Daniel and his mysterious mother, Eloise Hawking, turning the scientist into the most tragic LOST figure since Charlie.

His mother always knew she was going to kill him. Not only that, she ensured that this would happen. What a tragic final thought. Dark, pitch black.

But I got a sense of regret from Eloise in this episode. It made the entire thing more impactful. And I think there's a good reason for that. Daniel's journal was important. I think she honestly believes his sacrifice is necessary for whatever greater struggle we're working with. Whether it is or not remains to be seen. I think his journal will play into the Incident intricately, either ensuring it takes place or creating a disruption big enough to alter the timeline. The podcast implies that the latter is at least possible.

I've never felt more LOST heading into the final few episodes of a season. I honestly have no idea where this could go, but from the upcoming episode titles along, I'm confident it will be good places.

Bring on, "Follow the Leader".

Get LOST: "The Variable"

Faraday is back.

Our mad scientist took a leave of absence over the last few weeks, and LOST did miss his presence. But he's back now, and the one-sentence synopsis from Time Warner Cable sounds too tantalizing to be true.

In a sequel to last season's "The Constant", TWC informed me that Daniel "will reveal what he knows about the nature of the Island". Considering he guided us through the first stages of time travel, I'm guessing that could be a lot.

Awesome.

One thing we've been missing for a few weeks is hard answers. It seems those times are through. What could Daniel possibly reveal? I think after his research in Ann Arbor (a guess), he might know more about course correction on the Island and the possibilities Desmond presents because he's special.

I think we also get hard facts on his heritage, with my guessing going toward the son of Ellie (Eloise) and Charles.

The Losties also need to start barreling toward the finale. Because I know next week isn't going to feature the DHARMA folks, we'll probably get some progression there. The previews are playing up the "sides will be chosen" angle, so I'm thinking Sawyer, Miles and maybe Juliet stick with the Initiative. Jack and company probably head off with the Others. I hope we see Sayid soon.

And then, who's going to die? Rumors are circling that a major character is going down by the end of the season. My money's on Kate, with Sayid and Juliet as side bets. Not a lot of good justification why, except I think Kate's story is done.

Carlton called this his favorite episode of the season. I'm expecting greatness.

Word on the Street: "Time after Time" (The Wire, Season 3)

I'm a Wire fiend.

It's my juice, my own personal addiction to complex storytelling and dynamic characters. The show winds with an ebb and flow one in its own, striking a tone that's hard to describe but even harder to resist.

Season 1 is where my habit started. An investigation played out over an entire season, hanging behind back doors in the streets of Baltimore and its police department.

Season 2 hooked me. Writer David Simon took us out to the port, where unmarked shipments and unspoken deals are the norm. I figured out what The Wire was: a portrait of a city and its citizens, in the guise of a police procedural.

All written, directed and acted with a flair for reality and a knack for powerful moments.

Season 3 arrived in my mailbox this morning, and I popped in the season premiere without hesitation. The players are laid-out as we return to McNulty and company's investigation of the Barksdale organization. As much as I enjoyed a detour at the port, I'm glad Simon decided to bring the show back to "the game". The groundwork was laid so strongly there in Season 1 that a follow-up was a necessity.

After all, nothing's been resolved. So begins the next tale from the streets of urban America. Word up.

Splatter Specs: "The British Invasion"

Talk about fatal attraction.

How could Dexter top Rudy, our killer's homicidal brother who stole the show at the tail end of Season 1 and elevated the show to greatness?

I give you Lila.

Rita's reciprocal. A woman who can see Dexter for what he really is and not look away. But "I've always been afraid of you, Dexter," she admits. Lila has her dark side, too, and it drives the story as the Bay Harbor investigation hurtles toward a conclusion. She's beautiful, nonconforming and dangerous. She enhances every character she touches, especially our protagonist.

Every doubt I had about this show's writers has been silenced. The twists and turns of Season 2 are even more bold and surprising than the inaugural run. They take a risk, quelling Dexter's desire for a few bloodless episodes. The move to Narcotics Anonymous, which sets up our sexy foil, is played perfectly.

Not to mention the entire investigation of the Bay Harbor Butcher. Seasons 1 and 2 effectively tell one complete tale of Dexter discovering himself and in the process ducking the authorities face-to-face for the first time.

As the curtain closed on "The British Invasion", Dexter is free.

I feel like the show is now, too. The closing monologue holds the promises of "experimenting and changing the ritual" as we move forward. The scribes behind Showtime's wonder show have a wide open field ahead of them, and an August DVD release of Season 3 can't come soon enough.

At the Polls: Best Season of LOST

Our inaugural poll is closed.

So, which season of LOST did the readers select as their favorite? The writers strike shortened fourth.

It makes sense. The writers had a clear direction after "Through the Looking Glass" and ran with it. The entire season pushes forward with an ever-rising intensity, and the finale is brilliant. Two of the most beloved LOST episodes, "The Constant" and "The Economist", are smacked dab in the middle.

It's lean, but meaty. Not too short, not too fast. Season 4 will probably always be remembered as LOST as its best.

Season 3 was a photo-finish second place. Not much surprise there. The final stretch leading to "Through the Looking Glass" is as good as it gets and then the finale knocks you on your ass.

Season 1 and 5 both grabbed a couple votes. Glad to see some variety. Season 2, unsurprisingly, didn't get any love.

When Worlds Collide: Weir's "Witness"

In the opening moments of Peter Weir’s Witness, we watch a small Amish community in the hills of Pennsylvania prepare for another day. Chores are done by candlelight. They gather for morning prayers. Everything is plain and simple.

“Be careful around those English,” a kindly old man instructs a little boy and his mother headed off to the big city.

They ride off in their horse and buggy. When they reach the highway, a semi-truck zooms past and another one follows. Two worlds collide.

Behind all the police procedural and Hitchcockian suspense of Weir’s murder mystery, a much simpler and older story is at work in this 1985 film. After the boy, Samuel, witnesses a murder at a Philadelphia train station, John Book (Harrison Ford) is called in to investigate. But he soon realizes this murder isn’t like one of a dozen random acts of violence in urban America and must flee after taking a shot to the hidden hills of the Amish.

Witness, at its heart, is a fable. Book is ushered into the care of people living two centuries behind him and things don’t always go smoothly. He breaks into a fight on the street after some hooligans start prodding some of his Amish companions. He tries on some Amish décor to an amusing effect. He dances with Samuel’s mother into the waning hours of the night.

So, conflict arises. But so does cohesion.

Book, a loner with no family and an unwavering dedication to his job, doesn’t have anyone back home. In fact, his closest friend seems to be his partner at the precinct. But while he stays with Samuel and Rachel, Book feels connected for the first time in awhile with the people around him.

He rebuilds a birdhouse he destroyed upon first arriving to the community. He fixes the car that caused the damage. He’s up at four in the morning in the barn with Eli, the kindly old man, milking the cows and he’s soon eating breakfast before the sun even comes up.

Despite all their differences, these people hold something in common: a longing for connection.

As the running time winds down, Weir is forced to return to more traditional Hollywood elements as Book is discovered and it’s a race against the clock to expose the truth before it’s covered up forever. But Witness succeeds most in its quiet moments, thanks to a great collective effort from the cast and its unique setting. As each of our characters returns to their own life, we get a feeling that they’ll never be the same and that’s a testament to work put into each performance. The story of a “duck out of water” couldn’t be better realized than a big city cop on the lam at an Amish farm.

I compared the film to a Hitchcock thriller and it takes on that life in the final 20 minutes. Book must resort to years of training when the bad guys break up his Amish paradise, but the film resolves itself in a way that’s true to its message.

Dozens of Amish come pouring over the hills as Samuel sounds a warning bell. Book and the antagonist bust through the barn doors to a crowd of on-lookers short on firepower but strong in manpower. The antagonist steadies his aim and cocks his weapon, but the power of people leaves him powerless.

He lays down his weapon. The Amish keeps their peace. And all is well.

Splatter Specs: "Born Free", "It's Alive", "Waiting to Exhale"

I wasn't sure about Dexter when I started it.

Now I'm sure it's brilliant.

That's about all I can say about this Showtime gem. Michael C. Hall is perfectly cast in the title role. The supporting characters take engaging arcs and the story is always taking you to unexpected territory.

It's a rare feat that you can laugh till your belly hurts and shrink from the screen in terror during the same hour.

I don't know what else to say about it. I love the turn Season 2 took, sending the department after Dexter himself. There was no way to top the revelations about Rudy with the same shtick the next season. Great writing.

I'm watching too many episodes to keep up on this thing. I'll do my best, though.

Employees Only: "Heavy Competition"

The Office is finding its stride again.

The Michael Scott Paper Company was a bold move, like I said last week. It's the kind of scenario that could sink a show if mishandled. But I think this show's writers thrive under pressure, and they've turned things up a notch as we coast toward the finale.

One of my favorite episodes is "The Coup" and last night's show was a worthy sequel. Loved Dwight struggling with the new work attire. Loved the "set-up" in the parking lot. Bringing back Ryan could have felt forced, but I'm enjoying the dynamic between him, Michael and Pam.

The Office is clicking again because it's refocused on the office and the job. That, coupled with the great characters, drives the show's humor. If the writers keep themselves contained, the characters are allowed to breathe and truly shine. I'm glad to see these guys find their stride again.

My only question is where the season is going to end up. It could be a lot of places. But another thing I've always loved about The Office is its knack for taking me unexpected places.

The Morning After: "Some Like It Hoth"

"That douche is my dad."

Boom. Glad to hear it. Works for me.

I love Miles. He's a perfect add-on to the LOST universe, and Wednesday's episode completely validated his presence on the show. Sure, he's an asshole, but there's a sympathetic side to him. We needed that.

A very funny LOST. Hurley and Miles are a great duo and adding Chang in there was brilliant.

We got some answers, some clues, some new questions raised. Miles's gift is clearly genuine. Most people think it must be a result of The Incident, and I'm incline to agree. I also think we'll find out more about the circumstances under which Miles left the Island.

Who are these people Bram and Ilana work for? The prevailing theories are: Ben, the Others, Widmore, DHARMA. Pretty much everyone. I lean toward an offshoot of the Others. Maybe Richard is moving outside? Or maybe it's Eloise? Eloise would make sense. She'd know about Jughead (my guess for what lies in the shadow of the statue - another clue it involves the Others) and she seems like a logical third party between Ben and Widmore. I don't know. I'm lost.

And where has Faraday been? Probably Ann Arbor. I'm confident Faraday is going to be essential to bringing Desmond (my favorite character, arguably) back to the Island, so anything involving him is exciting. I'm not certain, but I believe the next episode will be Faraday-centric.

Has our mad scientist truly lost his mind?

LOST

Get LOST: "Some Like It Hoth"

It's about damn time.

Ever since LOST introduced its snappy parapsychologist, I and others have been aching to know more about him. Here in Season 5, we've had more hints of his abilities and past.

Is he Pierre Chang's son? I think so. It's been set up too well with the revelation about Charlotte and the nosebleeds.

Can he really communicate with the dead? Yes for two reasons. First, the Island is clearly an exception to the rule when it comes to the dead (re: Christian, Locke). And second, his connection with the proven-to-be-true slaughtered U.S. Army soldiers indicates something isn't normal.

I also think we'll get a somewhat decisive answer about the nature of Locke's resurrection. I don't think it's a coincidence a Miles-centric episode follows "Dead is Dead", and that episode's portrayal was ambiguous. My bet? Locke is Christian x 2 (at least). Christian got lucky, but Locke was meant to be on the Island. There's something special about him. Maybe he's meant to be the next Richard.

See you on the other side.

Love Knows No Bounds: The strange hearts of "The Piano"

As Ada trudges off to her new home in New Zealand, the piano which gives her voice is left behind on the beach.

It sits isolated, almost calling to her to return and run her fingers against its keys. Ada looks back longingly and the connection between instrument and musician is established.

So begins The Piano, Jane Campion’s strange and unexpected love story.

It’s a meandering, haunting tale of a mute woman and somewhat deranged man’s search for connection and passion in the face of a cold wilderness, both in their hearts and in their surroundings.
Holly Hunter plays Ada, a mute woman whose true love is the piano she brings with her to her new husband, Alistair (Sam Neill). Her daughter (Anna Paquin) accompanies her, Ada’s sole link to the rest of the humanity.

Until she meets Baines (Harvey Keitel), Alistair’s aide who lives with the native people.

The story flows with at an easy pace, allowing the characters to develop in quiet moments and understated dialogues rather than rushing from plot point to plot point. We shift perspectives constantly, watching different events unfold from each of the main characters’ point of view.

Although our allegiances are clearly supposed to lie with one or two of them, this approach allows us to connect and sympathize with each of the characters in their own way.

Because The Piano is a tragic love story, such writing provides the base for an emotional punch at the end of the film.

Campion takes the viewer across Alistair’s estate, often weaving between different characters, and a palpable tension builds as we put the pieces together and realize where things might be heading. In a film with little traditional action, Campion effectively keeps us engaged because the story is bold and the characters well-realized.

Ada’s piano serves as the catalyst for all that takes place in the hearts of these 19th century settlers. Ada must ask for Baines’s help to retrieve the piano from the beach after Alistair appears unconcerned with it. Baines then trades the piano with Alistair for land and demands he keep it at his own hut until Ada plays for him at least as many times as there are black keys on the piano.

Thirty-six times, to be precise.

So buds this unlikely relationship between a half-wild man and a mute loner. Baines is almost savage in his initial approaches, forcing Ada to reveal herself as she plays for him and kissing her neck sensually even as she asks him to stop.

But something in Baines’s primal nature ignites a passion within Ada. She gives herself to him, at first only as a practicality. He promised it counted for five whole keys. But soon, she finds herself running through the woods to his warm and passionate embrace – even as her daughter tries to stop her and Alistair’s eyes see more than they were intended to.

Maybe it was Alistair’s distant, uncaring version of marriage. Maybe Baines just spoke to her heart and her own desire to let go.

Whatever it was, these two strange hearts find each other over the course of The Piano. Even though tragedy finds Ada as the story winds down, Campion believes in this couple too much to let things end like that. Ada lets the piano go and almost lets herself go, but her newfound love for Baines – along with, I’m sure, a love of her daughter – allow her to find something worth living for.

As the piano sinks to the bottom of the sea, Ada’s heart is set free. She used to find love only in music. Now it’s in the people around her.

Splatter Specs: "Truth Be Told"

The chase is on.

Dexter's writers made a bold move at the end of "Shrink Wrap". They revealed The Ice Truck Killer to us, not only at an unexpected time but with an unexpected twist.

Then, for two agonizing episodes, they exploited audience irony to its maximum - forcing us to watch helplessly as Dexter and Deb had lunch with and made love to the man we knew was responsible for the horrific killings throughout the season.

But after "Truth Be Told", the playing field is level and the stakes are raised.

Rudy, if it's even worthwhile to call him that, has revealed his true nature to Deb and is taking her to a place with personal significance for the true object of his affection: Dexter. Meanwhile, our lovable super-killer had a breakthrough and realized Rudy's deception, but he's drawing the attention of Sgt. Doaks as he tries to quietly find a way to both confront his past and save the only person who really loves him.

The key question remaining: How did "Rudy" find out who Dexter really was (both as an individual and as a killer) and what is the purpose of all his plotting and manipulation? If the first 11 episodes of this brilliant show have taught me anything, I think I can have faith in the writers.

It's all set-up for what I expect to a mind-blowing season finale. And then onto Season 2.

Employees Only: "Dream Team", "The Michael Scott Paper Company" (The Office, Season 5)

America's version of The Office is never afraid to take risks.

The cliffhanger at the end of Season 2 seemed bold. So did uniting Jim and Pam. But Michael calling it quits? Unfathomable.

I was skeptical at the end of "New Boss". The office itself is so essential to the show - how can the main character leave? Well, last night soothed my doubts.

One way Season 5 stands out from the rest of The Office is its consistent emotional content. Almost every episode has a heart-jerking moment, and the last few have had several. Chalk up Pam breaking down at the end of "Dream Team" and Michael comforting her onto that list. A few episodes this season have left me longing for laughter, but I'll forgive that for the character development.

That's not to say this tandem wasn't funny. It was. The cold open with Kevin at the receptionist desk was priceless. So was Andy and Dwight breaking into a hodown in front of the adorable new receptionist. Jim's failure to get Charles to like him. Ryan at the bowling alley. My funny bone was tickled.

I don't know how long this storyline can last. But "Dream Team" and "The Michael Scott Paper Company" earned it a few more chances to succeed.

Splatter Specs: "Father Knows Best" (Dexter, Season 2)

After "Shrink Wrap", I knew Dexter was onto something.

Then the show follows that up with "Father Knows Best".

I always liked Harry and Dexter's relationship, but this episode takes all your perceptions and mindfucks them. In a serious way. In a seriously good way.

Harry led a double life? Faked his own death? All to protect his son? My goodness. The show had already established a strong connection between foster father and son, but if that was relationship a genuine example of nature at work, that's downright beautiful.

Dexter is so great because it humanizes its subject without ever forcing him to betray himself. He has only two connections left in this world now that Harry's gone, and they're only half as strong. His sister loves him, but Dexter can't return her genuine sibling feelings. Rita is a complicated matter. He seems to like her, but can he really love anyone? I don't think so. But still, a little feeling is something big for someone empty like Dexter.

I'm now confident this show knows where it's going. Even the background characters, particularly Angelo, are taking on a strong life of their own. It's not LOST, but it's great writing.

Happy splatters.

The Morning After: "Dead is Dead"

"It let me live."

As much as I love Sayid and Kate, what makes LOST truly special is a core of unforgettable characters.

Arguably the best of them? Benjamin Linus. And he single-handedly returned LOST to the greatness promised by "Because You Left" at Season 5's start.

We get some more clues regarding the Island's biggest mystery, the Monster. Judge and executioner? It seems so. Connected with Jacob? I think so after Alex's personification.

We see some major moments: Ben kidnapping Alex, Ben and Charles meeting, Charles being exiled. And Ben's entire journey to the Island after the crash, coupled with Locke, is too perfect to spoil.

Speaking of Locke, are we dealing with the man we've known for four and a half seasons now? Or is it something... different?

LOST

Get LOST: "Dead is Dead" (Lost, Season 5)

The word on the cyber street says: Be prepared for greatness on tonight's LOST.

I'm ready for some. Season 5 hasn't let me down - it's even surpassed my expectations - but "Namaste" and "Whatever Happened Happened" weren't on the same level. I was entertained, sure, but only in a passing way after the killer tandem of "316" and "The Life and Death of Jeremy Bentham".

But the cliffhanger from last week sets up tonight's episode wonderfully. In Dharma times, Richard ceremonially carries young Ben to The Temple. It looks like the only way to save his life. In 2008, Ben and Locke meet face to face for the first time since the latter's murder at the former's hands.

My biggest qualm with the last two weeks has been a lack of major revelations. Some of the little touches were nice (like Kate coming back to save Claire), but I agree with some who say all that material could be covered in one episode. But this week promises our first look inside The Temple and a confrontation we've been anticipating for weeks.

What more could you ask for? I'll be back with thoughts later.

Playing with Fire: Robert Altman takes on Hollywood

The Player is Robert Altman’s love letter, in his own way, to the movies.

Altman takes the viewer on a tour through the world of studio Hollywood he himself encountered in the early 1990’s. The bottom line is the bottom dollar. At one point, a studio executive even suggests they eliminate the screenwriters from the filmmaking process altogether. In a board room meeting, it doesn’t sound like a bad idea.

We see it all through the eyes of Griffin Mill (Tim Robbins), a well-established power player in the business. But he’s looking for the next step up, the promotion to studio president that’ll solidify his spot as a mover and pusher in Hollywood.

And he’s willing to do whatever it takes to get there.

Before Altman made The Player, he’d run into trouble with American audiences, who didn’t appear to appreciate his artistic ambition in films like Nashville. He tried his hand at starting a studio but failed.

At the start of the film, Griffin is the recipient of a series of postcards from a disgruntled writer. His life is threatened and Griffin takes the threats seriously. He has a hunch on the postcards’ origin and confronts writer David Kahane (Vincent D’Onofrio), who Griffin rejected a few months before, at a screening of The Bicycle Thief – a film with appropriate artistic integrity.

The foes can’t see eye to eye, and Kahane storms out, spewing threats of blackmail and undermining Griffin’s supposed spot as a force in the business. Griffin is enraged and kills the writer with his bare hands. He realizes his mistake, makes it look like a standard back alley robbery and spends the rest of the running time trying to ensure his tracks stay covered.

But, of course, the postcards keep coming.

Altman lays out The Player as a battle for Griffin’s soul and, by association, the soul of the town Griffin represents. Griffin isn’t instantly unlikable by any means. His relationship with Bonnie (Cynthia Stevenson) appears healthy. He gets along well with his co-workers. He poses as friendly and helpful to all the poor souls who wander into his office with dreams of grandeur.

But it all comes tumbling down. Because, in Altman’s mind, it has to.

Because Altman sets his story in the movie world, he gets a chance to directly confront issues like distribution, profits and artistic integrity. Midway through the film, Griffin is presented with what sounds like a decidedly raw, emotional and anti-Hollywood production. A perfect chance to redeem himself, to whatever extent, after murdering Kahane.

But instead, he uses it as an opportunity to undermine one of his superiors and positions himself as the next rung on the power ladder. Because for Griffin, the bottom line isn’t whether he makes a good movie – it’s whether he makes some bank and puts himself in the best possible spot.

Selfishness drives Altman’s protagonist.

And as he falls, the rest of Griffin Mill’s flaws shine through all the clearer. He begins ditching his girlfriend to stalk and then court Kahane’s grieving lover. He plots to out the new executive that moved into his studio. He lies, straight-faced, to the police, Bonnie, his co-workers without many hints of remorse.

As the climax approaches, Griffin is no longer the suave suit we saw in the film’s spectacular seven-minute opening tracking shot. He dons a black two-piece, his hair gelled back, and manipulates the room with the cool directness of a seasoned pro. Not much remains for the audience to relate to.

But Altman is in control, not Griffin, and he gets the last laugh in a film ripe with oddly comic and uncomfortable moments. Griffin is in the clear as the film winds down: he’s “saved” the gritty, anti-Hollywood production with a tacked-on happy ending; Bonnie is fired so he’s free to pursue Kahane’s old flame; all is well.

In the film’s final scene, Griffin’s phone rings. It’s the postcard writer. And we realize for the first time, establishing The Player as a true meta-film, that Altman himself has been threatening Mill all along. He’s sick and tired of Hollywood studios reusing unimaginative dreck instead of taking risks on real artists. He is the voice of the writers, the passionate few, all screaming to get out from underneath the commercial bubble.

The writer pitches the very movie we just watched, even titled The Player, to the startled exec. And Griffin, always out to save his own skin, eagerly accepts.

A Reboot

I'm taking an initiative with this thing.

As we've discussed in my Online Journalism class, it's hard to keep a blog going. It requires a dedication of mind, will and time. I lost all three quickly.

But that class, which requires a journalistic blog for its final project, coupled with a film criticism class I'm also taking are giving me the motivation to try again.

I'll start with posting the essays I'm writing for Practice Film Criticism. They'll be analytic and include major spoilers. With a little luck, I'll start adding my weekly (or daily) thoughts on LOST. Maybe even the shows I watch on DVD (Dexter, at the moment). And if I go wild, the movies I see on almost a nightly basis in the comfort of my own home or the local theatre.

Here's hoping. Welcome back.

Primed for Illusion

"When we experience a film, we consciously prime ourselves for illusion."
- Ingmar Bergman, 1960



I experience films for a lot of reasons. Reasons I think a lot of us do. To escape. To grow. To learn. Most importantly, to have fun. Films take away the breath of the true film lover in two ways: the tenacity of their emotional and intellectual content or the beauty of their technical artistry. If a film is truly memorable, it's a bit of both.

I'm one of those kids who fell in love with cinema at a young age. Jurassic Park scared the daylights out of me when I was five, and I've been hooked ever since. When I saw The Seventh Seal my freshman year of college, a whole new world of film opened up to me and I'm truly just beginning to explore it.

So, I invite whoever wishes to take the ride with me. I'll try to offer some practical advice to getting the most out of film. If you want to say you're really a film lover, you must appreciate Terminator 2 as much as Andrei Rublev. Both are masterpieces of their respective cinematic approaches.

Sometimes, it'll be a first watch, but the film might be old or new. Other times, one of those often rewarding rewatches. If you take the time to check this out, I appreciate your comments on how I could improve my content and make this a more accessible site for the reader. Happy viewings.