Note: This review originally ran during the Telluride Film Festival. It is being run again in conjunction with the film's release.

Fur: An Imaginary Portrait of Diane Arbus, is a beautiful, elegant, poem of a film, and yet, like Arbus (Nicole Kidman) herself, it's so strange it almost defies description. Arbus (whose first name is pronounced "Dee-Ann") is simultaneously one of the most celebrated and controversial photographers of our time. Arbus grew up in a wealthy Jewish family, amidst a life filled with privilege that she viewed largely as a prison. Overshadowed by her older brother, who grew up to become the famous poet Howard Nemerov, Arbus chafed against the expectations her family had for her to be an obedient, compliant child and, later, an equally socially acceptable wife and mother.

Fur is not a historical portrait of Arbus; rather, as the title suggests, it is an imagining of what might have been going on inside Arbus' mind at the time she broke free of the constraints of 1950s wife-and-motherhood to fully realize her own potential as an artist. Arbus and her husband Allan (who later became an actor, most famously playing Major Sidney Freedman on M.A.S.H.) owned a photography business, which made much of its income shooting advertising campaigns for the fur company owned by Diane's wealthy parents.

Fur: An Imaginary Portrait of Diane Arbus, is a beautiful, elegant, poem of a film, and yet, like Arbus (Nicole Kidman) herself, it's so strange it almost defies description. Arbus (whose first name is pronounced "Dee-Ann") is simultaneously one of the most celebrated and controversial photographers of our time. Arbus grew up in a wealthy Jewish family, amidst a life filled with privilege that she viewed largely as a prison. Overshadowed by her older brother, who grew up to become the famous poet Howard Nemerov, Arbus chafed against the expectations her family had for her to be an obedient, compliant child and, later, an equally socially acceptable wife and mother.

Fur is not a historical portrait of Arbus; rather, as the title suggests, it is an imagining of what might have been going on inside Arbus' mind at the time she broke free of the constraints of 1950s wife-and-motherhood to fully realize her own potential as an artist. Arbus and her husband Allan (who later became an actor, most famously playing Major Sidney Freedman on M.A.S.H.) owned a photography business, which made much of its income shooting advertising campaigns for the fur company owned by Diane's wealthy parents.

Now that the NFL season is officially underway, sparking buzz from across the country this past weekend (including some from me who was up late last night screaming at Eli Manning and the Giants), it's only right that news comes our way regarding a brand new sports-related film.

Vox3 (which sounds more like a sports drink, though it's actually the company behind the Nicole Kidman flick, Fur) has acquired the rights to Peter Alson's memoir, Confessions of an Ivy League Bookie. Alson and David Greenwald will pen the script, with the latter attached to direct. Story revolves around Alson's real-life adventures as a Harvard grad who, while down on his luck, begins to work as a bookie in New York's Greenwich Village where -- and here's the kicker -- he gets a real education. Hey, as long as its better than the abysmal Two for the Money (which, honestly, moved slower than the Giants secondary), then I'm totally game.

I posted the other day about the panel discussion led by The Hollywood Reporter's Anne Thompson on "The New Media Future: The Impact of Broadband on the Creative Process and Content Distribution." The panel included Chris Anderson, editor-in-chief of WIRED, Josh Goldman from Akimbo Systems, Yair Landau, President of Sony Pictures Digital Entertainment, director Kevin MacDonald (Touching the Void) and Dan Scheinman, SVP of Corporate Development for Cisco Systems, which sponsored the event. Cisco has the entire panel discussion up in a podcast now, for your listening pleasure. This was a great discussion with lots of interesting points of view on the impact digital and broadband will have on the future of film. If you're a geek for that kind of stuff, or you were at Telluride and didn't make it to the panel, be sure to check it out.

Today was the last day of the festival, and I was lucky to be able to catch two films that had been eluding me all weekend: Jindabyne, starring Laura Linney and Gabriel Byrne (both in top form) and Fur: An Imaginary Portrait of Diane Arbus, with Nicole Kidman and Robert Downey, Jr. I'd heard lots of good buzz around Jindabyne all week that, well, I really wanted to see it. The film is about Claire and Stewart, a couple struggling to overcome the effect on their marriage of Claire's nervous breakdown following the birth of their son several years before. The couple's marriage, their friendships, and their relationships with everyone in their small community are challenged when Stewart and three friends find the body of a dead girl in the river on a fishing trip, and decide to leave her in the river until their boys' weekend is over.

Growing up, your dreams and goals constantly change and evolve as you experience this little thing called life. I can't even count how many times I've been asked the question, "So, what do you want to be when you grow up?" From parents, to teachers ,to friends, to that weird guy who hung around the 24-hour convenient store (no, not Matthew McConaughey), we're forever on a quest to discover ourselves.

The following films all feature characters thrown into different situations in which they are forced to come to terms with who they really are. How should a Queen go about leading her country at a time of severe crisis? How can singers turn their love of performing into a lucrative career? How far can a life of crime really take a man? Oh, and why do three-day holiday weekends always seem so short? Welcome to this week's Trailer Park ...

Saturday was interesting. I was supposed to go to an early screening, but didn't sleep well (the altitude is getting to me a bit) and decided to stay in this morning to write reviews instead, while slurping down what passes for coffee here at the lodge. I'd pay serious cash for Seattle's 24/7 access to a latte right about now -- my blood-to-caffeine ratio has dipped dangerously low at this point.

Possibly because of that, I forgot to mention an interesting story in yesterday's report. On the gondola ride back to the lodge, I met a woman who had just been to the Emmys. She is a "seat filler" at the awards shows, primarily the Oscars and Emmys. She's done this for years -- she doesn't get paid for it, but she has a blast. What's a "seat filler," you ask? A seat filler sits in empty seats next to stars whose spouses or dates have gone off to the bathroom or to sneak a smoke, so that when the camera pans their way it doesn't look like they're alone.

Today was the first day of the Telluride Film Festival. I have lots of lovely pics sitting on my digital camera to show you; unfortunately, the cable I need to download the pics is in Seattle, and the closest place to buy a replacement is 40 miles from here. Telluride is beautiful, but very isolated. Never fear, though, for the charming and delightful Eugene Hernandez, one of Cinematical's pals from indieWIRE, has a cable with him that he's going to let me borrow. If we can work out the complexities of our respective viewing schedules long enough for me to download my images tomorrow, then tomorrow night's dispatch will be decidedly more visual.

So, Day One. I got in Thursday evening after a full day of travel that included a three-hour drive from Gunnison after several hours of plane travel. The drive was lovely, so it went quickly enough, but I was too tired Thursday night to do anything other than check in at the Press Office, mosey up the mountain to my lodgings, order dinner in and collapse for the night. Friday dawned bright and sunny after Thursday's menacing clouds and occasional rain, and I can honestly say I've never seen anywhere prettier than Telluride on a clear and sunny day, not even Seattle. It's just majestic. I took the gondola down to the Press Orientation, where I picked up the official bright yellow "press" lanyard that distinguishes press from everyone else with a bright yellow badge. Much like at Sundance, every is always eyeballing each other's badges to see if you're someone important -- especially the blue badges, which are for guests, many of whom are filmmakers.