"Um, Affleck please. Hold the Ben."

Casey Affleck has always been one of my favorite actors. Since the forgotten days of a movie (that I love, by the way) called Committed to the hard-hitting success that comes with killing Jesse James, that other Affleck kid is, unlike his big brother, the very essence of the cat's meow. He knows how to bring it, and when he does, he doesn't only bring it a little, he brings it hard. But it's not Collin Farrell or Harrison Ford hard. It doesn't usually involve any sort of cinematic heavy-lifting, massive swearing, bazooka-blowing, or terrorist sucker-punching. It's a hard that comes in the form of something so many young actors lack nowadays: subtlety. Casey Affleck doesn't bite into his roles, he flutters just beneath them, a candid presence that winks and smiles, shrugs, blinks, breathes real air. His presence seems to crawl out of the woodwork, to absorb effortlessly into the situation at hand. Casey Affleck always manages to steal the show, even when his character is just a piece of the decor. I'll always remember him best for his turn as goth stud Tom in 200 Cigarettes. This role stole my heart. I can't ever remember being more enamored by an emo punk with black hair and earrings. He brings a certain vulnerability to his characters, a vulnerability that droopy-eyed Jake Gyllenhaal could really learn from. It's not all about lovelorn looks and sloping back pasture. It's about making an audience empathize. It's about embodying an everyday man demeanor while still managing to conquer the screen. This quality is best exemplified, perhaps, by Casey's character in the grossly overrated Gone Baby Gone, in which he plays a young private detective. Affleck's character in Gone Baby Gone has skin tough as leather, but under the surface dwells an ocean of frailty. His performance makes a movie like this look weaker than it already is.

Hey Ben, upstaged much?

Gone Baby Gone was full of excellent performances. Ed Harris is his usual grand and imposing self, and Amy Ryan is brave and strangely likable as the crack mom who neglects her young daughter. Casey Affleck is a reservoir of emotion. He's rarely frightened, but it's not because he's brave. He's headstrong, seasoned in the ways of a Bostonian thug, and, unlike many current Hollywood actors (ahem...Ben), he wields his gun as a weapon rather than as a large phallus. As a film, Gone Baby Gone was, I thought, run of the mill. Confusing, and not in a good way, not Michael Clayton confusing, but just confusing. Many of the characters, while their actors put on tremendous shows, seem completely inconsequential to the plot. The plot itself is boring and holds little gravity, and the writing is painfully, painfully thin. The dialogue is okay, but the story is overdone and predictable, certain elements are tossed aside, some lost forever, some returning in the end to an audience of eyebrow raises. There were times when I thought to myself, This movie wants to be Spartan starring Val Kilmer. It wants to so bad, but it's not.

Not once did I find myself entranced with anything in Gone Baby Gone other than the underrated talent of Casey Affleck. In fact, if there's any reason I didn't just turn the movie off at the one hour mark, it's him. This only goes on to prove my point that Ben Affleck is an overrated turd, and while I like him in his early stuff, some of the Kevin Smith movies (especially Dogma) and that hilarious quip he pulled for Shakespeare in Love, he's just no Casey. He directed Gone Baby Gone, and it was fine. We're not talking the future Paul Thomas Anderson here, or Sam Mendes for that matter, we're talking f-i-n-e. Some shots were original, most were, much like the movie they comprise, run of the mill. The script, also penned by Ben Affleck (and Aaron Stockard, whoev that is), was, however, mediocre. It reminded me of Freedomland with a few upgrades, and wow, did that movie bite it. Ben Affleck obviously thinks he's reached a Sean Penn, George Clooney point in his career, and that he can simply transcend the actor status and move onto things like directing. Unfortunately for Ben, however, Sean and George both have Oscars in addition to their rugged handsomeness, and without Matt Damon, Ben's screenwriting is, to put it nicely, uber-drab.

There is good news for Ben, however, because if he can keep getting little Casey to star in his stuff, maybe one day he'll make something great. Until then, I prefer Casey. I prefer him quite sweetly and quite finitely. There will always be a tender place in my heart for Holden McNeil and Ollie Trinke, but my love for great acting will not be denied, and at the end of the day when I'm on my way home, and I'm praying to the gods of video rental that someone has finally returned a copy of The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford, I have to admit it: Casey wins.

The Top Ten

These are the ten movies that I've truly grown to love. They're like old friends. This is a list of movies that have both amazed and bewitched me. They're beautiful and so often timeless. And I hate that word: timeless. But these movies have it. To me, at least. My top ten movies:

1.) "Casablanca" (1942) - Here is a film whose name gets tossed about, flung around at cocktail parties, revered by even those who haven't seen it. It's all for good reason, I suppose; however, to watch "Casablanca," for me, is to give a little of my soul, lose a little of my heart, be melted down and turned to mush, every time. And even though it's a heart-wrenching tale filled with sadness and sacrifice, I'm able to watch it again and again, and each time, I cry and I laugh just a little. And then in the end, I smile.

2.) "Sideways" (2004) - For me, this is the equivalent of a fiercely beloved novel, one with a broken binding and torn, coffee-stained pages that I've turned more times than I can remember. I watch it when I'm bored, when I'm cleaning, when I'm lonely, when I'm simply drinking wine. It's like an old friend, always there when I need it, never disappointing, perfectly content to be part of the background and yet usually the center of attention. I love this movie because every time I watch it, I feel like it loves me back.

3.) "His Girl Friday" (1940) - Fast-talking, fast-walking, a total whirlwind of dialogue, this movie regards women with more respect than most recent rom-coms. I love Hildy Johnson. I think she is the most intelligent woman in any movie where at least one of the main plots is a love story. I love newspapermen from the forties, and I love Cary Grant. This film is wicked smart. Much of it is ad-libbed, relying mostly on the chemistry between Grant and Rosalind Russell. "His Girl Friday" is more clever than "Juno" at its finest hour, and yet somehow remains a carefree romp through the days before the internet, before CNN, and before cell phones.

4.) "American Beauty" (1999) - Mostly, I love this movie because it's beautiful. It has a dark soul with fine lines, a grotesque underbelly and alluring demeanor. I love Kevin Spacey, and I wish that he would pick only roles like this, because Lester Burnham is tortured, and he's a prisoner in his own home, his own body, his own pathetic existence. But it's not so pathetic, and that's the beauty of it all. I like the idea that death brings clarity, or at least that the thought of death brings clarity. I like all of the different people in this movie, how they come together under strange and innocent circumstances, and then, finally, how that innocence is transcended to hope, loss, and, of course, beauty. I've seen this movie countless times, and each time, I'm left tearful and breathless.

5.) "The Philadelphia Story" (1940) - Jimmy Stewart is among my favorite actors, and this is not only the film that won him an Oscar, but it's also the film that made me love old movies. Based on the play by Philip Barry, it is fierce with its dialogue and unrelenting with its characters. I love Jimmy Stewart in this movie more than any other movie. I love Katherine Hepburn no matter what she's in, and here, she's truly at her best. Love triangle movies can often get caught up in their deception, forgetting about their characters completely, but this movie is more of a love parallelogram, and it never once neglects its stars. Cary Grant is softer than usual. Jimmy Stewart is harder. Katherine Hepburn is empowered yet frightened. It feels like an old movie, yet it moves like something else completely, because everything is just so unexpected. This is one I like to watch with my best friend.

6.) "E.T.: The Extraterrestrial" (1982) - Is there any other movie that, beyond any semblance of a doubt, holds the power to encapsulate one's entire childhood? Well, maybe you don't feel that way, but I do. When I watched "E.T." a couple weeks ago, I felt enamored, painfully nostalgic, and lost in a dreamland that can exist only in a place I like to call Spielbergia. This movie makes me remember the happiness that comes with Reese's Pieces, what it's like to ride a bike, even if it's not over the moon, and the joys that come when you believe in something with all your heart. It's a sad movie, and a frightening one as well, especially for a child who cannot understand why anyone would want to harm such a special being. I had an E.T. stuffed animal when I was little, and I have to admit that I simultaneously loved and feared the poor thing, because so much about that movie scared me. But it also enchanted me, and it didn't matter how much I cowered away from those long, treacherous tubes, I still watched and waited for the magical end, and it always came. It still does every time.

7.) "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" (2004) - This movie, I feel, does today what romantic comedies haven't done since, well, the forties. I can't describe it. It's something with the characters. Kate Winslet is beautiful and strange. Jim Carrey is bumbling and soft. And when they come together, it's like watching Clark Gable and Claudette Colbert, only different and new and completely colorful. It's the only real modern love story we have. I love it because whenever I watch it, I'm reminded of a time when love stories weren't all farces, and when their characters had brains and moving parts all of their own.

8.) "Annie Hall" (1977) - La dee da. La dee da. La la. I think many people will agree when I say: I have no idea what it is about this movie. Why Woody Allen is so charming. Why Diane Keaton is so, well, hot. I love the eccentricity of it all. The whole thing intrigues me: How Alvy derives anti-Semitism from everything, everyone, everywhere. How Annie simply wanders and giggles through a seemingly effortless life. But then, it's not all so effortless. There are qualms, many of them so typically Woody, many so strange and unexpected, that one can't help but watch as it all comes together. Or comes apart. Whatever you want, I suppose. That's the joy of Woody Allen. People just talk and talk and talk, and eventually, something happens, and no matter what your quirks and troubles, you're like, "Whoa, I love this."

9.) "Chasing Amy" (1997) - I had to have a Kevin Smith film on this list, but it's not only that. "Chasing Amy" is filled with all the parts of real life that matter, only they're injected with that quick, Smithian wit, and it's so tight, so restrained in the way that it gives us things. I watch it for Holden's monologue, for Hooper's Star Wars metaphor, for Alyssa and the dart-throwing scene, and the strange, backwards love triangle. "What's a Nubian?" Seriously. It's filled with wonderful, engaging dialogue that often borders numerous taboos. It's rough and poetic in the way that its characters reveal themselves. It's life in the View Askewniverse. Who doesn't want to be a part of the View Askewniverse? And if you don't know what I'm talking about, who are you? Two words for you: Snootchie Bootchies. You know!

10.) "Toy Story" (1995) - Well, of course it's a pioneer. The first all CGI feature length film. And who doesn't secretly worship every drop of sweat that goes into making these PIXAR films? I especially love "Toy Story" because of its sweet and unique characters, the realistic ways they react to things, even though they're, well, toys. This movie makes me smile because of things like, "Son of a building block! It's Woody!" and that opening scene when Woody defeats the evil One-Eyed Bart as played by toy-owner Andy. So much novelty. Every time I watch it, I discover a new joke, a new nod, or a new wink. It's the first PIXAR treasure, but it's also the best PIXAR treasure, because it's got that whole thing down where it entertains kids with lots of color and movement, but it also entertains adults with frequent innuendo. I love it.

Impact Tremors: Steven Spielberg and "Jurassic Park," Revisited

At once both wondrous and petrifying in its beauty, Jurassic Park is a revelation in filmmaking. It is often overlooked, perhaps disregarded as a mere Box Office treasure. It's also become somewhat of a novelty, a landmark in, not fabulous cinema, but American spectacle. Plus, it's old by now, fifteen years, and long in the dust of current CGI marvels, but this movie has something that others of its kind lack. When I say others of its kind, I refer not only to science fiction films, but horror films as well, and family films, and when I say what the others lack, I refer not only to CGI mastery, but also to a great and earth-shattering sense of subtlety. Think about it. When I say the words "impact tremors," what do you see? Jeff Goldbum perhaps? A trembling puddle in the shape of a footprint? A mutilated car? Two children beneath a clear dashboard, a quarter of an inch away from death, screaming for mercy from a prehistoric beast? And all from what? Impact tremors. The water in the cup. Chaos theory, according to Dr. Ian Malcolm.

Jurassic Park is tremendously scary. Even at the age of 22 as I watch it from my living room couch on an ice cold day, I find myself staring, hand over mouth, eyes wide, maybe even a tear. And the familiarity of it all! This movie is a massive part of my generation's childhood: the possibility of not only dinosaurs, but of movies that can actually move you. To tears, to paralyzing fear.

Surely Steven Spielberg is no stranger to suspense and wonderment. He has a natural knack for scenes that call on several different emotions at once, that provoke thought from every angle, as we first experienced in Jaws, next with E.T., and then with Jurassic Park. He uses the subtleties of our everyday lives--puddles, Reese's Pieces, bicycles, sunbathing--and spins them into something strange, something heartfelt yet eerie, sometimes downright scary. These subtleties are the reason that Steven Spielberg will go down as one of the most influential directors of all time. They're also the reason he has a billion dollars. He has this way of inspiring dire beauty in unsuspecting places. Jurassic Park contains only a few of these examples, as the most poignant can be found in the climactic moments of E.T., when a young boy must let a healing creature, half of his heart, sail away into the cosmos. Moments of the heart in Steven Spielberg's greatest work don't go unaccompanied, however, by moments of blistering fear. While Jurassic Park has its dinos, E.T. has the men from the government, their astronaut suits and all of those long, white tubes. As a child, I feared those tubes. As an adult, they make me cry. And while E.T. is not a horror film, it still inspires fear, and I long for the days when movies didn't have to belong to a single genre. When children's movies didn't have to be about dancing vegetables and scary movies didn't have to squirt blood all over the place. But all those days are gone.

Which is why, of course, the modern horror movie is a joke. I love the term "torture porn," and I wish I knew who coined it, because I'd give them a big, fatty high five. $4.8 million spent on fake blood and limb-severing scenes will only get you so far when it comes to scare tactics. By now, nobody cares, and Eli Roth should either go back to film school (did he go to film school?) or simply watch Jurassic Park, because then maybe he'd see that what he's doing is not making a new face for the horror genre, and with the exception of maybe one scene in the original Hostel, he's not scaring anyone at all. He's only causing people to upchuck their lunch. Or to laugh very loudly, which is what I often do nowadays when I see a fountain of blood that is meant to be taken seriously, because I've seen that same fountain of blood at least fifty times before, and I've seen it handled much more expertly, as you probably have as well, by directors Quentin Tarantino and Tim Burton. For this very reason, horror flicks like Psycho and Jurassic Park will be forever scary, because like all the greatest films and novels and actors and actresses in the world, they never reveal their hand. The use small amounts of the bloody stuff and leave the rest up to suspense, and suspense is what leaves the knuckles white with terror, not nasty throat-slittings and visible compound fractures.

While Steven Spielberg may not be the master of suspense (that would be, of course, Alfred Hitchcock), he is still quite masterful. Fifteen years after I first saw Jurassic Park, it still frightens me to tears. I still remember the parts that truly scared me when I was eight--when the little boy is electrocuted and must be revived with CPR, or when the bloody goat leg flies onto the windshield. Or in E.T. when the flowers begin to wilt or the men drive by outside. These moments still move me to this day, though differently than when I was eight, because a truly great movie, horror movie or heartfelt tale alike, matures with its audience. New layers unfold, but the old ones still live, and as you begin to tremble, you're touched with a nostalgia that yanks you back to that very first viewing. I often wonder if my children will have these same experiences with the watered-down, profit-hungry filmmaking of today. I don't know. Most of me doesn't think so. But just to make sure they do, I'll show them films like Jurassic Park. For movies like this to people like me are the the true makers of sweet nostalgia.

The True Beauty of 2007: Dancing Bag Awards

Ricky Fitts sees beauty everywhere. Once, he saw so much beauty in a dancing bag, that he felt like he couldn't take it. I don't know what happened to Ricky Fitts, but I do know all the beauty I've seen this year. 2007: One of the most fantastic cinematic years in recent history. We've seen ravishing musical revamps, heart-wrenching tales of deceit, psychopathic romps through the desert, touching takes on the teenager, and so, so much more. I, for one, believe that the Academy Awards, in all of their subtle shortcomings, have left out so much of this beauty that I feel the need to invent my own little awards. They're called The Dancing Bags, and I hope that by relaying my picks to you here, I'll not only do justice to Ricky Fitts, but to the year 2007 as well.

Keep in mind that I do love the Academy Awards, and I hope that they go on despite the strike. I just hate so many of their decisions. I feel that they operate based primarily on politics and secondarily on merit. My finest example from 2007 is that of Cate Blanchett's Leading Actress nomination for yet another (yawn yawn YAWN) rendition of Queen Elizabeth. One would think that both Helen Mirren and Judi Dench have done the trick by now. But no. In light of this decision and several others, some very fine performances have been given the Academy stiff arm.

But here, there are only stiff arms for boredom and the cinematically challenged. So suck it, Academy. This is up to me and our old pal, the Dancing Bag.

BEST FILM

1 - "No Country for Old Men"












2 - "There Will Be Blood"
3 - "Juno"
4 - "Michael Clayton"
5 - "Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street"

***Oscar Prediction: "No Country for Old Men"***
Duh.

BEST ACTOR IN A LEADING ROLE

1 - George Clooney, "Michael Clayton"












2 - Daniel Day-Lewis, “There Will Be Blood”
3 - Johnny Depp, “Sweeney Todd”
4 - James McAvoy, “Atonement”
5 - Viggo Mortensen, “Eastern Promises”

***Oscar Prediction: Daniel Day-Lewis, "There Will Be Blood"***
Of course, Day-Lewis is the shoe-in, and I'll gladly welcome him to his second Oscar. My pick, Gorgeous George has already conceded to the grisly Oil Man. But to be honest, while I was profoundly disturbed by Daniel's performance, I wasn't really surprised. But I was surprised by George. He really brought it to the table, and I'm proud of him.

BEST ACTRESS IN A LEADING ROLE

1 - Ellen Page, "Juno"












2 - Laura Linney, “The Savages”
3 - Keira Knightly, “Atonement”
4 - Marion Cotillard, “La Vie en Rose”
5 - Helena Bonham-Carter, “Sweeney Todd”

***Oscar Prediction: Julie Christie, "Away from Her"***
What's the deal with this? Yes, it's a nice role and a harrowing performance. But come ON. It's "The Notebook" sans all the sexy flashbacks, and who, honestly, isn't becoming deathly ILL with all the crying sapfests that just keep getting made and made and made... I'm with The Onion on this one. Overrated, overrated, overrated. If we're going with newcomers (because, pardon my french, but who the f$%& is Julie Chistie besides Madame Rosmerta in HP 4?), let's go with Ellen Page. Seriously.

BEST ACTOR IN A SUPPORTING ROLE

1 - Tom Wilkinson, "Michael Clayton"












2 - Paul Dano, “There Will Be Blood”
3 - Ethan Hawke, “Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead”
4 - Casey Affleck, “The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford”
5 - Robert Downey Jr., “Zodiac”

***Oscar Prediction: Javier Bardem, "No Country for Old Men"***
And, well, fine. I enjoyed Javier as the compressed air wielding psycho. But, as you can see, it's my firm belief that all of the performance wins this year should be awarded to the cast of "Michael Clayton." That is all.

BEST ACTRESS IN A SUPPORTING ROLE

1 - Tilda Swinton, "Michael Clayton"












2 - Jennifer Garner, “Juno”
3 - Cate Blanchett, “I’m Not There”
4 - Amy Ryan, “Gone Baby Gone”
5 - Catherine Keener, “Into the Wild”

***Oscar Prediction: Ruby Dee, "American Gangster"***
Yet again, who the f$%# is Ruby Dee? Also, see above for my reasons.

BEST DIRECTOR

1 - Joel and Ethan Coen, "No Country for Old Men"












2 - Joe Wright, “Atonement”
3 - Paul Thomas Anderson, “There Will Be Blood”
4 - Tony Gilroy, “Michael Clayton”
5 - David Fincher, "Zodiac"

***Oscar Prediction: Joel and Ethan Coen, "No Country for Old Men"***
There is no doubt that this will be the year of the Coen.

BEST SCREENPLAY

1 - Paul Thomas Anderson, "There Will Be Blood"












2 - “Juno” by Diablo Cody
3 - “No Country for Old Men” by Joel and Ethan Coen
4 - “Atonement” by Christopher Hampton
5 - “Superbad” by Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg

***Oscar Prediction: Original - "Juno"; Adapted: "No Country for Old Men"***
This was a tough one, but after thinking long and hard about the intricacies of PTA's riveting "There Will Be Blood," I've decided that there's been no better script this year. Perhaps it isn't quite as perfectly executed as "No Country," but it is, by far, the most thought-provoking, and it takes a lot of incredible risks. I can't imagine what it looks like on the page, but I know that, whatever it looks like, it's still brilliant.

Peace out.

Review: "There Will Be Blood"

Heartless yet strangely alluring, swollen with a psyche all of its own, this movie, this presence, this biopic of a startling man, kept me from sleeping most of last night. It peeled back my eyelids like some contraption famed by "A Clockwork Orange," and then, if ever they'd close for a moment, "There Will Be Blood" snarled my mind with dreams of liquid hatred--black gold--oil and the oil man. The Oil Man. The chiseled exterior, chiseled as rock, and a new kind of villain whose limp shall never overcome his greed. "There Will Be Blood" is not a message movie about capitalism. It's not a wayward stretch into the days and times of prospectors and the death and sacrifice that comes with oil wealth. It is a chronicle of one man's insatiable greed, his fears and how they fester in various forms of self-hate, hate for others, hate for the world and all of its parts and for everything but success while those around him fail. But why this hate? What is Daniel Plainview so afraid of? Why is he so avert to discussing his past, his present? Why does he sleep on the floor? Who is he?

Well, according to himself, Daniel Plainview is an oil man. He's a family man who runs a family business. The business takes off when soft-spoken Paul Sunday (Paul Dano) materializes from the ether to alert Daniel to the riches that flow beneath the Sunday ranch in Little Boston, CA. Daniel and his adopted son H.W. show up to the ranch disguised as quail hunters, discover a puddle of black, and Daniel is quick to negotiate a price. Abel Sunday (David Willis) is quick to accept a cheap offer; however, Paul's slippery "twin" Eli Sunday (Paul Dano) demands more. Daniel makes the acquisition, however, by paying $5,000 up front and promising an additional $5,000 cash donation to the town's Church of the Third Revelation. Eli, himself, is the preacher of the church. He is a feverish young man, one that yelps and shakes at the Lord, tall and thin as a matchstick clothed in black as he vanquishes the devil with the power of his hands. He wishes to bless Daniel's first well in the area, but is publicly denied, and it is this incident that trips an ongoing furor. Daniel continues, then, to delay his promised donation to the church, and the chilling Sunday/Plainview dynamic gives way to some truly creepy moments, moments that remind me of Stephen King's short story "The Man in the Black Suit," in which the devil manifests himself before a little boy to whisper terrible, horrific things into his ear. Daniel's phrase, "I told you I was going to eat you up," and his climactic milkshake speech have haunted me since the moment I left the theater. These are just two of the myriad deadly musings that Mr. Plainview utters to his surrounding obsolete, most notably, Eli. I am then prompted to wonder, is Daniel, like the man in the black suit, some form of the devil? Is he, indeed, the antithesis to Eli Sunday? Some version of Paul Sunday? Or perhaps Eli is just a nonexistent thing, a reflection of Daniel's fear, of the church, of God's wrath that Daniel holds so dearly in contempt. There are infinite times in the movie when Eli's dialogue parallels the dialogue of others, particularly (and watch for this) the phrase, "Daniel Plainview, your house is on fire." I've heard enough lectures to know that when things feel on purpose, they probably are on purpose, and I don't know exactly what Paul Thomas Anderson has up his sleeve, but I know that it has something to do with Eli, and I'd give my last breath to find out what it is.

And it's probably because I spent so much undergraduate time in the trenches of cryptic literature that I've opted to take a different look at "There Will Be Blood." To me, this film is highly literary. It is filled with nods and winks, elbow pokes, magic words and phrases, motifs, things that repeat themselves throughout the duration of the film, things my English 507 class and I would have had our satisfying way with. For it is simply not in my nature to ignore such subtleties. It feels like a novel, slow-moving, unflinching, and graphic, yet it does things with characters that no novel could ever achieve. During "There Will Be Blood," I often found myself hating Daniel while simultaneously fearing him, loving him and watching over him like some distant matriarch, yet also wishing that he'd die. Similarly, sometimes I truly believed Eli Sunday to be real, and other times, I found him to be nothing more than a sort of indescribable hologram. There were even moments when I wondered if any of this had happened at all. It was surreal yet visceral, in many ways like a night terror, one where you find yourself paralyzed, unable to move a limb, and terrified by the figure that stares back at you from the corner. Who is Daniel Plainview? What is Eli Sunday? And does what happens in the end actually happen at all? I'll stay away from spoilers here, because the film is, as far as show times go, becoming more accessible, and I don't want to ruin it for anyone. But if you see it, which you should, I ask you to watch and listen closely throughout the film's final scene. Does it happen? Watch the butler's face. Is it real? Was any of it real? I ask you only because I cannot stop asking myself. "There Will Be Blood" is a crushing success, albeit a blood-curdling trip, and if it were anything else, I'd be reviewing it rather than tossing premature theories around a long and echo-less room. For whatever reason, I can't just write a review. I can tell you what I think of the parts that I can get a handle on, but there's no real way to lay out a concrete point of view for a film that left me blindsided.

So here are the things that I know: Daniel Day-Lewis, who I have somehow failed to mention thus far, didn't blow my mind, he cracked my skull, and one can throw around John Huston references all one wants, but I, for one, was flabbergasted. I also find myself in awe of Paul Dano, an actor who, a couple years ago was the dorky kid who saves the day in "Girl Next Door," and is now a radiant blade among a yard of twenty-something has-beens. Also, now, I've finally seen all five Best Picture nods, and my vote still stands with "No Country for Old Men," but it's not because "There Will Be Blood" was worse than the titilating McCarthy adaptation; it's because, to me, it is not really a film at all. It is more of a lengthy character sketch, a screen-novel, a surreal venture into the unreliable psyche of a maniac. But, still, at the end of the day, it's a movie. A beautifully executed chunk of movie that I'll continue to ponder and to write about for many years to come. In fact, I'll probably write about it again, here, sometime in the coming weeks. I wholeheartedly urge you to challenge my strange dealings, to hold me in contempt, but I also urge you to watch this movie and, instead of simply seeing it for what it is on the surface (a greed movie about oil men and their hardhearted ways), see it and watch and listen, and be aware the whole time. Sit with your ears and your eyes wide open, and be prepared to hear strange turns of phrase, words that echo throughout the film, especially among different characters, repeated images, and, of course, allusions to movies of yore. Also, remember that Paul Thomas Anderson is the man who brought us "Boogie Nights," "Magnolia," and the symbolism-heavy "Punch Drunk Love." Then, let me know what you gathered from it all. Maybe we can muster something real.

*All five films nominated for Best Picture at the 80th Academy Awards are now playing at the Sundance Cinema in Hilldale Mall. The films are: "Michael Clayton," "No Country for Old Men," "Atonement," "There Will Be Blood," and "Juno." Visit www.sundancecinemas.com for showtimes. Many of them are also wide, but as far as theaters go, Sundance is the shizz.