With the writer's strike in full swing, I thought I'd pay tribute to a few of the writers who currently have films in theaters. Quite frankly, you really have to admire some of them. Take Allison Burnett, who adapted Feast of Love (2 screens) as well as this year's earlier Resurrecting the Champ. Burnett received very little love for either movie, but consider how hard it must have been to cut down a novel and expand a newspaper article at the same time? It makes my head spin. It's also quite impressive that Burnett was able to work again after his earlier script was turned into the universally panned film Autumn in New York (2000). But the thing that impressed me most of all about Burnett is his first produced script, Bloodfist III: Forced to Fight (1992), a vehicle for "Z" level action star Don 'The Dragon' Wilson. This is from a guy who studied playwriting and has published a novel. I can only imagine what it must be like to sit down and actually write something like that. Do you tape the paycheck on the wall next to your desk and keep staring at it? Good for Burnett that he made it out of that hole.

Then there's The Simpsons Movie (96 screens), which has at least eleven credited writers, and possibly more who added material without credit. Among them we have David Mirkin, who directed one of my all-time favorite guilty pleasures, Heartbreakers (2001), and James L. Brooks, who won an armload of Oscars for Terms of Endearment (1983). Most of the others are from TV, and I'd like to think they wrote this movie the way they might have written a half-hour episode: by sitting around a big table and throwing out ideas and laughing a lot. Those writer rooms are usually decorated with stuffed animals and novelty items, as well as plates of donuts and other snacks -- perhaps some kind of air freshener as well. It makes me all warm just thinking about it.

Director Sidney Lumet turned 83 this year, and his debut feature, 12 Angry Men (1957) turned 50. Most film buffs count that film among the great debut films in history, and Lumet has certainly gone on to make many more classic films: Serpico (1973), Dog Day Afternoon (1975), Network (1976), The Verdict (1982) and Running on Empty (1988), among others. However, most film buffs also agree that, despite his notable debut, Lumet is more of a superior craftsman than an artist and that his long filmography -- more than 50 movies and TV shows -- contains just as many clunkers as it does hits. But here's the good news about a craftsman: he usually learns from his mistakes and gets better and better. And Lumet's two most recent films, last year's Find Me Guilty and the new Before the Devil Knows You're Dead, are among his best.

The bad news is that when Hollywood people and moviegoers hear the thing about Lumet being 83 years old, they'll probably stay away from the new film, as they stayed away from Find Me Guilty a year ago. Lumet has also made the commercial mistake of telling a jewel heist story and telling it straight, without any of the jokey, self-referential stuff that drives most post-Tarantino crime movies. Lumet's movie is about people rather than jewels or guns. And, at 83, he knows a thing or two about people.

Part of me loves attending the New York Film Festival every year, and part of me doesn't. Since it's a pain in the ass to get from Queens to Lincoln Center on the Upper West Side of Manhattan, the part of me that hates to use up five hours of my time to see one film is always nagging in my ear: "Skip it this year, man. It takes up too much time. And you're lazy." Then again, when on your first day of screenings you get to watch an exceptional new film from Sidney Lumet, Before the Devil Knows You're Dead, and then get to stick around for a Q&A with the legendary director, the part of me that loves attending NYFF ultimately wins out.

Since I've only seen one film so far (mainly because, this year, time just doesn't allow me to snort up every little piece of filmmaking), instead of writing a dispatch I thought I'd place my initial thoughts here. NYFF is a strange festival, because the press screenings begin a good week before the fest officially opens, and they're fairly spread out across four weeks. Since the fest also takes place within the confines of, say, a block or so, that summer camp, community aspect is not really there. You see a press screening, stick around to chat with another NYC-based writer about Marisa Tomei naked (more on that in a bit), and then you go home to write about it. That pretty much sums it up. All the NYC regulars are there, there's always some old smelly guy sitting either next to me, in front of me or behind me, and no matter when I go to the bathroom, I always wind up standing next to someone I know at the urinal. Last year it was actor Patrick Wilson, and this year it was Andrew Grant (aka Filmbrain). Thus, I'm thinking about starting a urinal interview series for folks I run into -- if, ya know, they don't think that's awkward.