I took in a screening of Paul Thomas Anderson's new film, There Will Be Blood, on Sunday afternoon, and I can't imagine that I'll see a better movie from 2007. I've long contended that Denzel Washington's portrayal of Rubin Carter in The Hurricane was the greatest performance ever captured on film. Now, however, I believe Daniel Day Lewis' Daniel Plainview has surpassed anything that came before it.

I also saw Michael Clayton this weekend, and I was actually surprised by how much I liked it. George Clooney has never played a character like Clayton before, and it's likely he'll take home a best actor Oscar for his performance (assuming the more deserving Lewis doesn't prevail).

After Michael Clayton I watched Ben Affleck's directorial debut, Gone Baby Gone. I really loved this movie. Affleck certainly has the technical skill, and his obvious affection for the neighborhoods and people in the film was a nice touch. Ben's little brother Casey Affleck has really come a long way as an actor since his mumbling early roles, and here he carries off a tough balancing act of compassion and rage. Unfortunately, Michelle Monaghan is a bit wasted in the lead female role, basically just along for the ride until providing an emotional twist at film's end. The real revelation in the film, however, is Amy Ryan as the aimless mother of a kidnapped girl. Previously best known for a small recurring role on HBO's "The Wire," Ryan nearly walks away with the picture. Already winner of several critics awards, Ryan is a virtual lock for a best supporting actress Oscar nomination.

I sat through two new films during the last week, Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story and National Treasure: Book of Secrets. The less said about these two the better. Walk Hard was the better of the two, but its music was far superior to its comedy. National Treasure? An absolute mess. (On an odd sidenote, Nicolas Cage's sideburns are shaved so high above his ears in Treasure that he looks a bit like a burn victim. Truly bizarre.)

I don't get very excited about new television shows often, at least not before they hit the air. When a series grabs me, it's usually after a few episodes of casual viewing (like "Lost" or "Veronica Mars") or much, much later (like "The Wire" or "The Sopranos"). Instead, I go into most new TV seasons assuming that all the new shows will suck. And I'm usually proven correct. Besides, why waste time with a show that the network will probably yank off the air by November sweeps?

Well, I'm already excited about one new show on NBC's fall lineup (and have been since I first heard it was in development well over a year ago). That show is "Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip," the latest offering from Aaron Sorkin, creator of "Sports Night" and "The West Wing." It's a behind the scenes look at a late night sketch comedy show and stars such big names as Matthew Perry, Bradley Whitford, Steven Weber, Amanda Peet, D.L. Hughley, Timothy Busfield, Nate Corddry, and Sarah Paulsen.

("Saturday Night Live" creator Lorne Michaels was reportedly so furious at NBC for picking up a show that mocks his own that he demanded the network also give one of its fall slots to a show created by current SNL cast member Tina Fey, which is also a behind the scenes look at a sketch comedy show; given how much bad comedy Michaels has allowed on the air over the last 30 years, his anger alone is enough to make me to watch "Studio 60.")

I read an early script draft of the show's pilot episode just a few weeks ago and was simply blown away by Sorkin's work. And now today, someone has posted a six minute trailer for the show over on YouTube. Shown at Monday's upfront presentation for the NBC fall season, I actually got a few goose bumps as I watched it. I've been dropping TV shows left and right for the last few months, but this is one I'm definitely adding in September.

Which, of course, means it will either A) suck or B) get such terrible ratings that NBC will cancel it by November. ("B" is the better bet given that the show will air Thursdays at 9 p.m. -- opposite both "C.S.I." and "Grey's Anatomy.")

[YouTube] Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip - 6 MINUTE PREVIEW
(via TV Squad)

Since moving to Las Vegas in mid-2004, my trips to the movie theater have become quite rare. So far this year, I've seen two movies in a theater. Worse still, in 2005 I only managed two theater visits for the entire year.

And so, as I rely more and more on cable and DVD for moviegoing experiences, I typically don't get to see most films until long after the buzz surrounding them has died, even for those movies that I anticipate excitedly for several months prior to their release. One such film is last year's "Match Point," written and directed by Woody Allen.

I've been a Woody-phile since seeing his 1990 film, "Alice." That picture, along with Martin Scorcese's "Goodfellas," served as my introduction to great cinema. Sadly, however, Allen entered a period of creative decline just a couple years after that. (Woody fans differ on this point, but in my estimation his golden age began with 1977's "Annie Hall" and ended with 1992's "Husbands and Wives.") Since 1993, Allen has made a series of mildly entertaining yet completely inconsequential movies. Gone were the philosophical themes of pictures like "Manhattan," "Stardust Memories," and "The Purple Rose of Cairo," replaced by slapstick and sight gags that were more reminiscent of his earlier movies (but not nearly as funny).

Some recent conversations at work (of all places) have started me watching those golden age Allen movies again, and I've finally begun replacing my overplayed VHS copies with fresh DVD ones (starting, naturally, with my favorite Woody film, "Hannah and Her Sisters"). Finally, last night I got around to taking in "Match Point."

Thank you, Woody. If this is any indication of what I'm depriving myself of, I just might have to start going to the movies more often. The thought that I could have seen this picture months ago but chose not to is driving me mad.

In case you can't tell, I really liked this movie. I've always leaned heavily toward Allen's more serious films, and with this being his first drama since 1988's "Another Woman," it was right up my alley. Far more than being right up my alley, however, it is easily his best film since 1989's "Crimes and Misdemeanors," which dealt with many of the same moral themes as "Match Point."

And, surprisingly, it appears his years of making trivial films weren't for naught. In his golden age, Allen dealt with serious themes in a very explicit manner. At some point during one of his movies, you could be sure that one of the characters would, quite audibly, ask the very questions Allen himself wanted the film to raise. More often than not, there would be an all out debate of those questions. In the last decade and a half, however, Allen has eschewed those themes, and with them the audible questions and debates. Apparently making these "less important" movies has allowed Allen to introduce a new touch to his skills as a writer and director: subtlety. With "Match Point," Allen once again incorporates big themes, but without resorting to explicit dialogue about them. (The closest he comes is a recurring discussion about the difference between luck and hard work.)

In this sort-of "review," you may notice that I have avoided discussing anything about "Match Point's" plot. This is intentional. There are far too many wonderful discoveries to be made by going into the film cold, and I simply encourage you to give it a chance. (And for you Woody-haters who intend to avoid the movie on principle alone, don't worry. Allen does not appear in this film.)

Welcome back, Woody. It's good to have you around again.

I finally saw the movie "Elizabethtown" last weekend, and it's taken me a a full week to completely digest it. In the end, I have to say that it's a bit of a mess. Not one single character behaves in a realistic manner. As I consider the romantic comedies and dramas that writer/director Cameron Crowe has made over the last two decades, it occurs to me that he has progressively moved from a realistic tone to a more stylized and nostalgic one. Until now, he's always succeeded. "Almost Famous," for example, presents an extremely nostalgic version of the world, but it works perfectly because all the emotions ring true. And that stylized version of the world only enhances those true emotions.

In "Elizabethtown," however, the two romantic leads continuously throw up contrived emotional barriers to their happiness for seemingly no other purpose than to delay the resolution of their mutual wooing until the end of the movie. Having next to no interaction with the film's dominant storyline, Susan Sarandon seems plucked from an entirely different movie altogether and dropped into this one at random. Australian Orlando Bloom uses an American accent that is so utterly nondescript that his emotional responses come off as only slightly more human than a robot's. And then there's Kirsten Dunst. Her character is, to say the least, a bit of a goofball. She's overly dramatic. She has all these odd mannerisms and sayings that seem contrived simply to make her more interesting and memorable to those around her. There are plenty of people in the real world who behave in exactly this manner. And just as there are some people in the real world who can use such behaviors to make themselves *more* likable and some who instead make themselves *less* likable, there are also some actresses who can successfully portray such characters as likable while some actresses succeed only in making them unlikable. Sadly, Dunst falls into the latter character this time around. As perfect as she was playing a pivotal role in "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind," here she fails spectacularly in any effort to help us understand why Orlando Bloom's character would find her so endearing.

That said, while "Elizabethtown" is a mess, it is an *interesting* mess. In the last week, I haven't gone more than a few waking hours at a time without thinking about it. Maybe it's just the timing, as I've in some ways reached a crossroads in figuring out who I am and where I'm going in both my personal and professional lives. Perhaps if I'd seen the film a year earlier or a year later I'd just dismiss it outright. Or maybe I'm giving it more credit because it was filmed in Louisville (the city in which I was born) and E-town (a town where several of my relatives live).

Regardless of why, the movie has struck a chord with me. And while the emotional core of the film rings false more often than it rings true, it does get one thing right: everyone is absolutely insane. Movies usually present the most sympathetic characters as incredibly confident and stable people in full control of their worlds, or if they aren't yet confident and stable, they will be by the time the credits roll. But in reality, even the most confident and stable of people have a surplus of turmoil. No one really has *the* answer for coping with it. We all just deal with it on our own unique ways. Some better than others. That's what "Elizabethtown" gets right.

And then there's the movie's last lines. (Don't worry. This doesn't spoil anything.) These lines just keep repeating in my head over and over and over again. They don't say anything I haven't heard before, but for some reason I'm actually listening this time:

No true fiasco ever began as a quest for mere adequacy. A motto of the British Special Air Force is: "Those who risk, win." A single green vine shoot is able to grow through cement. The Pacific Northwestern salmon beats itself bloody on its quest to travel hundreds of miles upstream against the current, with a single purpose—sex, of course—but also life.

Never mind that the unit is actually called the Special Air Service. Or that its real motto is "Who Dares Wins." Me? I prefer Cameron Crowe's version. Those who risk, win. Those who risk, win. Those who risk, win...

If ABC is wondering why ratings have fallen steadily this season for its hit show "Lost," the network need only look to the last few weeks for the explanation. More so than just about any other series on TV (except maybe "Veronica Mars"), "Lost" seems to constantly go into reruns just as the action starts to gain momentum, and those rerun stretches can last up to a month sometimes. To make matters worse, on several occasions the series has aired a clip show that recaps events from the series that every viewer already knows backwards and forwards. It would be one thing if I could ignore these clip shows, but the network promotes them as new episodes to trick everyone into watching. Even my TiVo thinks it's a new episode. Then when I finally sit down to watch the episode, often going through a long pre-show ritual of preparing snacks and a cold beverage, I discover within 5 seconds that I've been duped. Again.

"Lost" is too good a show for its producers and network to taint with these kinds of tactics. And given ABC's poor track record this season (and the steady decline in quality of "Desperate Housewives"), this show is far too valuable for the network to risk ruining it like this.

The show goes into it's final burst of new episodes for the season starting next week, so this shouldn't be a problem again for awhile. But I certainly hope some changes are made by this fall.