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In the midst of the Toronto Film Festival this past week, I couldn't help but notice that Whip It! fever was in full swing in my home town. Everywhere I went, I would catch glimpses of young girls in that signature plaid with Whip It! buttons on their bags, or I would see posters for the comedy lining the walls of university notice boards, and I have to tell you, it does my little feminist heart proud. If movies are a big part of your life, then you know how much they can change who you are, and I can't help but notice a lack of truly cool role models for girls. Seriously, there is only so much Megan Fox we can take, and that's why it makes me happy to see girls getting into the image of a young woman defying expectations and trading in her pageant sash for the rough and tumble sisterhood of Roller Derby.

As any movie geek of the female persuasion can tell you, it isn't easy finding films they can relate to that don't reside in the 'rom-com ghetto'. Just because you are a girl doesn't mean that you don't want the same kind of escapism that boys do -- I mean, who doesn't want to save the world? But sometimes I crave a movie that's not straight out of the fan boy factory of hot chicks with guns, but can still make me fly my girl flag high. Because when I watch that kind of movie, it's a rare chance to watch a woman on screen do something other than run from a monster or into the hero's arms. So in honor of us girls, I've put together a list of five flicks that I like to watch when my girl-power reservoirs run a little low.

After the jump; they are women, hear them roar...

Spike TV may not be the default go-to for critical cinematic analysis, but if there is one thing the guy-tailored network knows, it's hicks and hillbillies. And that makes them perfectly qualified to hammer out a list of the Top 10 White Trash Heroes of Cinema, a list that admirably goes looking in the "the trailer parks for succor, refuge, and justice."

It's actually a pretty fun list with some great picks on it. I'm particularly fond of Russel Casse from Independence Day, Valentine and Earl from Tremors, and H.I. McDunnough from Raising Arizona, but it's Luke Skywalker at number one that puts a big 'ole smile on my face. And it's hard to argue with Spike's rationale:

- He lives on a patch of dirt in the middle of nowhere.
- He has lots of beat-up vehicles in his front yard.
- He's a greasemonkey.
- He likes to make out with his sister.
- He lives with his aunt and uncle 'cause his dad killed his mom.

Read the rest at SciFi Squad

Over at the blog Edward Copeland on Film, Mr. Copeland has compiled the results of a project he started a few months ago, with film writers -- bloggers, critics, professors, and so on -- voting on the 100 best movies ever made in a language other than English. He had a nominating committee of 51 people (including Cinematical's Kim Voynar) determine the list of nominees, and then the voting was open. There were a few stipulations: Documentaries, shorts, silent films, and movies newer than 2002 weren't eligible.

A total of 174 ballots were entered. The top 10 is as follows. (See the entire top 100 here.)

1. The Rules of the Game, Jean Renoir, French
2. The Seven Samurai, Akira Kurosawa, Japanese
3. M, Fritz Lang, German
4. 8 1/2, Federico Fellini, Italian
5. Bicycle Thieves (more commonly -- and erroneously -- known as The Bicycle Thief), Vittorio de Sica, Italian
6. Persona, Ingmar Bergman, Swedish
7. Grand Illusion, Jean Renoir, French
8. Aguirre, the Wrath of God, Werner Herzog, German
9. The Battle of Algiers, Gillo Pontecorvo, French & Arabic
10. The 400 Blows, Francois Truffaut, French

No huge surprises there, except maybe that I'd have thought Bergman's Seventh Seal (#15) would be higher than his Persona. In the top 100 list, the names are the ones you'd expect: Kurosawa (7 times), Bergman (7), Fellini (5), Truffaut (4), Godard (5), etc. Renoir makes it just twice -- but they're both in the top 10!

As far as languages go, French is by far the most heavily represented, with 35 films (by my count) on the list. Italian is next (15), followed by Japanese (13). Russian, German, Spanish, Japanese, Chinese, Polish, and Swedish are all represented a few times each, the latter two thanks entirely to Krzysztof Kieslowski and Ingmar Bergman, respectively. Danish shows up twice in the works of Carl Dreyer. Hungarian and Portuguese appear just once each, in Satantango (#97) and City of God (#26).

Any languages you're surprised not to see represented? (What, no Korean? No Middle Eastern languages except for the Arabic parts of The Battle of Algiers?) Which specific films do you think got left off? (I'm a sucker for Life Is Beautiful.) Discuss, discuss!

Well, I know what I'll be doing tonight! The American Film Institute is announcing its new "100 Years...100 Movies" list this evening, and as much as I tend to disagree with their annual lists, I can't wait. The special airs at 8PM on CBS, and will be hosted by...you guessed it, Morgan Freeman. Yes, they already did this list once before, in 1998. Tonight's special marks the 10th anniversary, and there was an entirely new vote conducted this time out. The previous list caused quite a controversy because of what it included (British films on an American list?) and what it left off, specifically films by black or female directors (the snub of Do the Right Thing still stings). 1998's top ten were as follows: 10) Singin' in the Rain, 9) Schindler's List, 8) On the Waterfront, 7) The Graduate, 6) The Wizard of Oz, 5) Lawrence of Arabia, 4) Gone with the Wind, 3) The Godfather, 2) Casablanca, 1) Citizen Kane. It's hard to imagine tonight's top ten list will change drastically, although I'd expect Schindler's List to drop a few spots.

As limited in scope as these lists can be, I eagerly look forward to every one. I can recall excitedly printing out the 1998 list and seeking out the few I hadn't seen. The lil' film fans of today need this sort of thing to know where to start with an appreciation of American film. The AFI intends to "refresh" the list once a decade -- 43 newer movies are in contention this time that weren't last time around, including The Lord of the Rings trilogy, Finding Nemo, L.A. Confidential, Fight Club, Spider-Man 2, Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Brokeback Mountain, Chicago (Oh please), Crash (Oh please!), and Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl (Oh, puh-leeeeease!!!). Over at AFI.com, you can watch videos of stars talking about their favorite movies, as well as download a ballot for yourself, select your favorite 100, and see how well you match up tonight.

Dwight Silverman, technology reporter for the Houston Chronicle, has listed his top 15 "Geek Movies to See Before You Die." The scary thing is that I've seen -- and like -- all 15 movies on the list, which includes three Terry Gilliam movies (Monty Python and the Holy Grail, Brazil and 12 Monkeys), two "Star Trek" movies (Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan and Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home) and two Sam Raimi movies (Darkman and Army of Darkness).

But I'm not sure I like the term "geek movies," which seems a more distilled and insulting form of "cult" movies. It implies a certain uncool element to the movies, whereas "cult" implies a club to which you might want to belong. Certainly not all "cult" movies are "geek" movies (Eraserhead, for example, is not exactly a "geek" movie). But I think all "geek" movies are "cult" movies. Silverman links to a second blog about "geek" movies that even further blurs the line. I don't know: maybe it's the simple act of listing these movies that makes one a geek. Regardless, what is Silverman thinking by listing Army of Darkness and not Evil Dead II?

It has been on newsstands for a month or so already, but it has taken me awhile to ponder Paul Schrader's new article that tries to define a film canon (titled "Canon Fodder") in the September/October issue of Film Comment magazine. The editorial page brags that it's the longest article ever published by the magazine (except a 1973 two-issue essay on King Vidor). In it, former film critic, and current screenwriter and director Schrader was challenged to create the movie equivalent of Harold Bloom's The Western Canon. He began writing a book, but eventually stopped short with this long article. His reasoning is not optimistic; he claims that cinema, and especially the idea of finding aesthetic art therein, is mostly dead, a relic of the 20th century. He calls cinema a "broken down horse" and says that, if he were just starting out today, he would not turn to films for personal expression.

Nevertheless, he chooses 60 films for his canon, and I take exception with only a couple of them (All That Jazz and A Place in the Sun, if you must know). If those of us who still have hope for the form ignore the tone of the article, there is much joy and greatness to be found below. Currently, readers have responded exclusively online with their list of the most important, omitted directors, and Schrader responds to the readers (and, yes, the omission of Rossellini was an error).

Gold

1. The Rules of the Game (1939, Jean Renoir)
2. Tokyo Story (1953, Yasujiro Ozu)
3. City Lights (1931, Charles Chaplin)
4. Pickpocket (1959, Robert Bresson)
5. Metropolis (1927, Fritz Lang)
6. Citizen Kane (1941, Orson Welles)
7. Orphée (1950, Jean Cocteau)
8. Masculin-Feminin (1966, Jean-Luc Godard)
9. Persona (1966, Ingmar Bergman)
10. Vertigo (1958, Alfred Hitchcock)
11. Sunrise (1927, F.W. Murnau)
12. The Searchers (1956, John Ford)
13. The Lady Eve (1941, Preston Sturges)
14. The Conformist (1970, Bernardo Bertolucci)
15. 8 ½ (1963, Federico Fellini)
16. The Godfather (1972, Francis Ford Coppola)
17. In the Mood for Love (2000, Wong Kar-wai)
18. The Third Man (1949, Carol Reed)
19. Performance (1970, Donald Cammell/Nicholas Roeg)
20. La Notte (1961, Michelangelo Antonioni)

There is just something about a 'best of' list, isn't there? We can't help ourselves I guess; I mean, how many AFI specials are we up to now, anyway? The Independent has compiled the best and worst film lines of all time, so automatically I started to think about my favorites and not so favorites. I have to admit, they've got a pretty good list: The usual candidates are there, but there are also a few surprises. I wholeheartedly agree that "As far back as I can remember, I've always wanted to be a gangster. ... " from Goodfellas, is possibly one of the great movie intros of all time.

Now, the ones on my list? I'm a sucker for a one liner so, some of my favorites would be Glenn Close in Dangerous Liaisons; "Like most intellectuals he's intensely stupid." And George Sanders in All About Eve :"You're maudlin and full of self pity, you're magnificent." And my worst list would be pretty much any line from Showgirls -- do I have to pick just one? So now it's your turn ...what would you're best and worst list look like?

[via Independent ]

Yay for Valentine's Day! If you're like me, you woke up this morning, threw open the closet and dusted off that crusty old red sweater you save solely for this day. Your day. You shine in your red sweater and, even though most of the people you talk to despise this semi-holiday, you love it...if only because everyone else hates it so much.

There's that one girl who wears all black in an attempt to protest the commercialism of chocolate covered flowers, so you make sure to wish her a happy V-Day a good 20 times throughout the day. That's right, you're the kind of person who sends flowers to your mailman's granddaughter because it's just so sweet. That's you - Captain Valentine!

Now, for those that actually have real dates (ie: human beings) tonight and are thinking about vegging on the couch with a groovy flick in the DVD player, I must warn you that only certain films are acceptable for Valentine's Day viewing. The following are a few movies that, no matter how great the night is going, you must keep far, far away from your Valentine today...

You surely disagree with *something* on this list – so comment away, and stay tuned for our Worst Of, coming tomorrow.

1.  Match Point

Match Point has the conventions of an easy-to-follow thriller - a busty seductress, a suspicious wife, a scheming husband and an act of murder - but what it lacks is what makes it special. The film is a post-religious parable, with no overriding moral authority at the center. "Faith is the path of least resistance," one character scoffs at a dinner party. In other words, the only meaningful struggle with moral choice is the one that we are willing to have internally. Is the main character - an ambitious, social-climbing young tennis coach - willing to have that struggle? The signs aren't promising. He reads a Penguin edition of Crime and Punishment with the attention you would give US Weekly, and morally-loaded Verdi operas inspire nothing more from him than a blank stare. On the other hand, he has the self-preservation instincts and the dumb luck of a Patricia Highsmith fox. Watching him operate will keep you on the edge of your seat for the full two hours. The year's best film. – Ryan Stewart



2. A History of Violence

A History of Violence is a rare thing: a genre hybrid film that actually works. On one level, it's an effective thriller about a mild-tempered Midwesterner who may or may not be a stone killer masking his identity; on another level, it's a schlock horror film with make-up effects that would be appropriate for a Friday the 13th film, circa 1987. A lot of bullets fly, but when they do, people aren't simply knocked down or off-screen - they are disfigured, maimed or reduced to chunks of sputtering flesh. It's as if an EMT was present on set as an advisor, and piped in with "no, no...a shotgun blast at that range would do much more damage..." The result is that the audience's ho-hum desensitization to violence is briefly circumvented and the central question about the main character – why is he so at home with blood and gore? – is brought into sharp relief. Director David Cronenberg is asking the same question of the audience. – RS



3. Pride & Prejudice

Pride & Prejudice is, in some ways, a perfect film. Director Joe Wright follows the much-worshipped source material closely and never steps wrong with character, music or scenery. When we think of Austen, our first thought is not wild animals roaming through the Bennett house, but little details like that seem to have some historical grounding, and it adds to the realism. The screenplay also modernizes and clips Austen's language in the most surgically careful ways, so that only those who pay their Austen Society dues a year in advance will notice the seams. Keira Knightley, though certainly more athletic and forcefully feminist than anything Austen could have imagined for her Elizabeth Bennett, somehow owns the role like no one before her. Austen characters famously speak in unbroken paragraphs, expounding themselves purple in the face, but Knightley handles the language and the meaning behind it as easily as slipping into a warm bath, and the other characters fall into line behind her. – RS



4.  The New World

Don't be fooled by New Line's last-ditch efforts to recoup their investment in Terrence Malick's latest: The New World is not a de-Disneyfied tale of pilgrims and indians and a snow-crushed first Thanksgiving full of pious pumpkin eyes; it is not a battle-heavy, voodoo-tinged culture-clash adventure; it is not, by any means, a Colin Farrell film. Sure, Farrell is stunning as Captain John Smith, the borderline-infidel who is spared from execution just in time to meet and fall powerlessly in love with a 12-year-old native princess. But this is The Pocahontas Story, and from its opening frames of still-water reflection to its near-hallucinogenic final sequences, The New World  reimagines a historical footnote known to most six year olds as a fairy tale rich enough to seduce most adults. Drunk, in grand Malick fashion, on sunlight and internal monologue, The New World will irk those who want their historical epics to function as freeze-dried educational substitutes. The rest of us will stare slack-jawed at Q'orianka Kilcher, as she and Farrell and Malick recast the silliest of American myths as a swirling tale of obsession and longing on the order of Lolita. – Karina Longworth