"Darren did not put a strip pole in his office." -- Marisa Tomei.

Does the New York Film Festival still matter? The 46th edition opened last Friday, and while the fest may not have the celebrity cachet and discovery intent of Sundance and Cannes, or the welcoming populist mentality of Toronto, it stubbornly insists on being recognized as the gatekeeper for all that is worthwhile in world cinema.

Nonetheless, press conferences with a big-name American director and a resurrected American star (and his fetching, Academy Award-winning co-star) have stolen the spotlight during the first week of the festival. Looking somewhat like a guerilla himself, Steven Soderbergh arrived to promote his four-hour epic Che, starring Benicio del Toro as the revolutionary leader. According to the director, "There are a million Ches -– he means something different to everyone."

That attitude has irked some critics; Karina Longworth at Spout felt that Soderbergh's "unwillingness to make a statement may be a major part of the problem." On the other hand, Glenn Kenny of Some Came Running opined: "Silly me, I imagined that such an approach constituted a statement sufficient unto itself, but apparently not." The film will get a rare "roadshow" treatment when it opens in December: trotted around in its four-hour entirety to selected cities for one week only by IFC Films in December, complete with elevated ticket prices and a fancy giveaway program of some sort. Dreamgirls for the intelligentsia?

After the jump: The Wrestler and two fresh new films about those darn kids.

After winning top honors at the Venice Film Festival, Darren Aronofsky's The Wrestler rapidly became the must-see of the Toronto International Film Festival, with huge lines at the press and industry screening this afternoon seemingly unaffected by the news that Fox Searchlight had purchased the film. After seeing The Wrestler for myself, I feel the need to extend a note of caution about the film, which sailed into Toronto buoyed by advance raves for Mickey Rourke's performance as Randy "The Ram" Robinson, a low-level professional wrestler -- and we soon see how really, both those words could be in quotation marks -- whose '80s glory days are long over, scraping by at low-level, low-paying matches until a heart attack forces him to leave the ring and look at his life in the shadow of death. Many have already written about the parallels between Mickey Rourke and the swaggering, scarred wrestler he plays -- early success, fame and notoriety, a series of mis-steps and mistakes taking it all away bit by bit as the years advanced -- and the charge Rourke's own rise and fall offers a filmmaker like Aaronofsky looking to explore ruin and redemption.

But don't believe the hype -- or, more importantly, look past it; if a complicated, messy personal life were all it took to deliver a great performance, Paris Hilton and O.J. Simpson would have more Oscars than Katharine Hepburn. Rourke's work as Randy is physical, invested, powerful and sprawling -- but it's also quiet, sad and hauntingly wounded, too. And The Wrestler offers viewers far more than just Rourke's performance -- which, it must be said, is excellent -- if they're willing to not flinch from what it has to say: The Wrestler is a fascinating, rich, unblinking look at the dark, hunched mean streak that lies curled and poisonous inside of so much American popular entertainment and of so much American life. It's early to say this, but The Wrestler is one of the most grimly exciting, magnetically repellent movies we've had in a long time; it's flat-out one of the best American movies of 2008.

TITLE: The Wrestler
DIRECTED BY: Darren Aronofsky
STARS: Mickey Rourke, Marisa Tomei, Evan Rachel Wood

WHAT IT'S ABOUT: A big-name pro wrestler back in the 1980s, Randy "The Ram" Robinson now bides his time with performances at high schools and community centers. A heart attack threatens early retirement, but Randy the lure of one more chance to get back in the ring with his biggest rival forces him to choose between his health and another shot at the spotlight.

WHY WE'RE EXCITED ABOUT IT: Aronofsky just missed the mark with the ambitious but over-reaching The Fountain; his direction of that film, nonetheless, was intriguing enough to make this a film worth catching. Tomei has been one of our faves for years, turning in particularly solid performances in 2001's In the Bedroom and last year's Before the Devil Knows You're Dead, and the prospect of her and Evan Rachel Wood in the same film would make this one worthwhile, even if we didn't want to see it just to see Rourke in long hair and wrestling outfits.

Back to TIFF Preview page ...

Give Joshua Seftel some credit; he didn't pull any punches on War, Inc. In his first feature film, written by star/producer John Cusack, Jeremy Pisker, and Mark Leyner, Seftel attempts to make a scathing commentary on the War on Terror, the privatization of the military, the commercialization of societies all over the world, and other shenanigans. In a former life, Seftel was a former network news producer, and became known around Hollywood circles for directing documentaries like Breaking the Mold: The Kee Malesky Story.

He was nice enough to speak to me about the experience from a very blue room at the Tribeca Film Festival press office. Text and video are after the jump.

What do you say when a film is so bad that you actually feel physical pain for everyone involved? You literally sit there for an hour-and-a-half and feel sorry for everyone who put such a hard effort into the making of the film, only to see it lay there like a lox when it's finally projected on the big screen. As a reviewer, there's not much more you can do than just endure it and hope to see a fleeting moment or two of quality, just so you don't think you've completely wasted your time.

That's all the thoughts that were going through my head as I watched War, Inc., an ambitious film that fails miserably at everything it attempts to be. As a comedy, it's not funny. As a satire, it's as subtle as a sledgehammer. And as a treatise on war, the corporatization of the military, and the horrors of pop stardom, it doesn't tell you anything that you don't already know if you just watch the 24-hour news channels or read the news online even a little bit.

Perhaps Marisa Tomei liked all the publicity she got from shedding her clothes in Before the Devil Knows You're Dead (for practically the entire first half of the film), because the gal seems to be looking for some more provocative projects. Now before I link to the Variety story, I have to give JoBlo credit because they coughed this one up last week in what appeared to be a random throwaway line that took me by surprise. Yes, Tomei will star as an aging stripper, and girlfriend to Mickey Rourke, in Darren Aronofsky's The Wrestler. And Variety has just confirmed it. Phew. Back when JoBlo casually mentioned it, I thought I was the only one who didn't know about this casting. Apparently no one did.

The Wrestler stars Rourke as an over-the-hill 1980s-era pro wrestler who retires after a heart attack, but then fights his way back into the ring for one last chance at defeating his arch-nemesis. Tomei will play his girlfriend, the stripper, and throughout the film our wrestler will attempt to build a relationship with her son. Talk about a dysfunctional family right there. "Yeah, my mom's a stripper and her boyfriend is an over-the-hill wrestler. You should see the moves they put on one another when I'm not looking." Production is currently taking place in New York and New Jersey. So, how much Tomei nudity do you think we'll get this time around?

Oh, and if you want to see what Tomei as a stripper might look like, head after the jump ...

While it wasn't so fun to get "Smoke on the Water" playing on repeat in my brain after our EIC Erik Davis sent me the idea for this double feature, it's been great to reminisce about two films from the early '90s that dealt with fish out of water themes -- My Cousin Vinny and Doc Hollywood. One is an Oscar winner, and the other is a fluffy comedy, but both perfectly embody that moment in time -- the beginning of a new decade and the next step for some of the biggest names of the 1980's. On the one hand, you have Ralph Macchio, and on the other, the unbeatable Michael J. Fox. One might be up for murder while the other gets to save lives, but in both cases, they're guys who prefer the city, but get ensnared in small town life.

Keep that popcorn in the cupboard, pick up some fish and chips, and enjoy!


My Cousin Vinny



On the one hand, you've got the story. Two "youts" -- Billy Gambini (Ralph Macchio) and Stan Rothenstein (Mitchell Whitfield) are traveling through Alabama when they forget to pay for a can of tuna. They leave the store and soon find themselves in jail and awaiting trial when the store clerk is shot and killed. One can never underestimate the power of familial connections, and Billy's cousin Vinny (Joe Pesci) comes to save the day -- a fish in a very unfamiliar pond. He looks to be just a spastic Brooklynite with a saucy girlfriend (Marisa Tomei). However, first impressions aren't all they're cracked up to be, and it turns out that Vinny is just what the two guys need to break free.

On the other hand, you have the cast. It's just plain great. You've got Pesci, who rocks as Vinny, Tomei, who won an Oscar for her performance, and Macchio, who shows that there's more to him than his time as a karate kid. But that's just the first layer. There's greats like Austin Pendleton and Bruce McGill, but best of all -- Fred Gwynne, in his last performance, plays Judge Chamberlain Haller. Really, what else do you need?

Mona Lisa Vito in her god-awful, super-tight, floral body suit talks about what she's nervous about.

Vinny plans to go hunting, and Mona Lisa mourns the future slain dear.

The Judge feels mocked.

Owls aren't safe when Vinny is around.

Project Greenlight producer Chris Moore is already busy with his directorial debut, Killers, but now The Hollywood Reporter posts that he's also executive producing a miniseries and feature-length documentary based on A People's History of the United States by Howard Zinn. First published in 1980, the book follows the history of the United States from Columbus and Native Americans right through the twentieth century. However, instead of your ordinary historical book, Zinn critically looked at both the triumphs and tyranny of the country.

The project is titled The People Speak, and it's looking like it could be a pretty successful documentary, if the collaborators are any indication. The history will be brought together by music and readings that focus on the country's war, class, race, and women's rights struggles. Actors like Matt Damon, Viggo Mortensen, Marisa Tomei, Danny Glover, David Strathairn, Kerry Washington, and Josh Brolin will perform, while the likes of Eddie Vedder and John Legend will add some music into the mix. This collaboration will be topped off by Zinn himself, who will give introductions and historical contest to the pieces of the film.

As Moore describes it: "It's going to be a great piece of entertainment, but more importantly, something people can watch and learn and remember how great this country has been and how individual people have changed the course of history. It's going to make them think, laugh, and cry and be proud to be American." Yet the cynic in me is waiting for those people who will say all of this is anti-American. Hopefully, it will just be a well-received, good, accurate film that teaches as well as entertains. But what do you think?

Fall 2007 is shaping up to be the season of illogical movies. First there was the much-praised Gone Baby Gone, which has a third act twist that's logically crazy and impossible in practicality, and now there's Before the Devil Knows You're Dead, a film from the aging non-master Sidney Lumet that twists its narrative into a pointless and annoying timeline-pretzel and in doing so drains every ounce of energy and motivation from the piece, only to arrive at a Greek tragedy climax that has a plot hole so large you could drive a Hummer through it. (Don't worry, I won't spoil it, but I'll just say this -- cops?) That both both films contain performances by Amy Ryan may be their saving grace -- Ryan has a lock on Best Supporting Actress this year that's as tight as Ben Foster's lock on Best Supporting Actor, but that's not enough to push Before the Devil over the line. Nor is its high-grade cast, that includes Philip Seymour Hoffman and Ethan Hawke. Even Marisa Tomei's frequently naked breasts don't get it done.

The plot: two brothers scheme to knock over their parents' jewelry store. Mom and pop will get the insurance money, they'll get the loot, and everyone's rent gets paid. Sounds pretty simple, only -- pause for effect -- something goes wrong. What goes wrong is Rosemary Harris, who re-confirms here what she proved in the Spiderman films -- she can't act worth a lick. Harris plays the boys' mother, who unexpectedly stops the thief they send in to rob her with a handgun and also gets herself shot in the process. 'Big emotion' is not something that should ever be required of Harris, and I felt a tinge of relief when she was dispatched early on in the film -- the less screen time she takes up the better. The boys' father, played by the excellent Albert Finney, sets out to make it his mission in life to find the "guy who did this." And so it begins ... or ends ... or something. The timeline in this film is so herky-jerky that for all I know, my interpretation of its events could be completely wrong.

You know what most movie trailers need? Marisa Tomei, completely topless. You know what else they need? An end tag that tells us the film is "now in post-production"! You know what else they need? Long, drawn-out clips of Philip Seymour Hoffman and Ethan Hawke, as down-on-their-luck businessmen planning to rob a mom and pop store that happens to be run by their own mom and pop. Needless to say, this trailer, for Before the Devil Knows You're Dead, is my favorite of the year so far. I didn't even know much about this film before watching, and the one drawback is probably that I now know too much. The trailer gives away so much of the plot that I think I can even figure out what the third-act is going to be all about, and that's a little too much information. This is a trailer that's popped up on a French website, so before they release it to the U.S., I would advise that they substantially trim down those final scenes with Albert Finney -- that's just more than we need to know.

I'll admit that I'm not a terribly big fan of Sidney Lumet -- I skipped Find Me Guilty, in fact. And the screenwriter is apparently a first-timer, so there's nothing to go on there. But I like all the actors here -- Ethan Hawke, especially, is always able to do some good work when he has the right material. Annoyingly, there's no U.S. release date for this film yet, even though it's opening in France in late September. If everything goes to plan, I'll be in Europe around that time this year anyway, so maybe I'll be able to see it in a French theater.