Christopher Plummer gives a black hole of a performance in Man in the Chair, which opened in New York last week and in Los Angeles this weekend. Every time he appears, he inexorably sucks attention away from anyone else on screen. Eventually, everything revolves in orbit around him, even when he's not present. Somehow, though, even as Plummer merges his soul with his character at the molecular level, he does so in a modest manner. The seams between actor and role are not readily apparent. It's a pity that the film as a whole doesn't rise to level of his magnificent performance, but he elevates the material by his grizzled presence.

Plummer plays Flash Madden, a retired gaffer with a permanent scowl etched on his face. We meet him in a darkened cinema, muttering to himself, talking back to Orson Welles in Touch of Evil, and flashing back to his moment of glory when he was fired, then instantly rehired, on the set of Citizen Kane. He's a moviegoer's worst nightmare, the annoying old guy who keeps up a running commentary while you're trying to enjoy a classic, so our sympathies run toward the man who asks him to shut up. Flash tells the man off, which amuses Cameron Kincaid (a wisely subdued Michael Angarano, who also served as associate producer), a high school senior who wants to win a film school scholarship contest.

Flash puts on a great show of being irascible and irritable, but doesn't seem to mind very much when Cameron begins stalking him. Having overhead that Flash used to work in the movies, Cameron seizes on the thought that the old guy might be able to help him make his student film. From the movie posters hanging in his room and snatches of conversation with his only friend, we get the message that Cameron loves movies. (When he decides to steal a car for a joyride, he insists that it be the same make and model as the titular automotive character in John Carpenter's Christine.) Apparently in common with many young filmmakers today, Cameron wants to make his own movies but doesn't really have anything to say.

If you haven't already, you must read Joshuah Bearman's new Wired article about the 1980 hostage rescue involving the creation of a fake sci-fi movie. Here, I'll sum it up quickly: after the CIA and two makeup artists came up with a non-existent movie (it seemed so real that it had the trades fooled), an operative named Tony Mendez traveled to Iran under the guise of the production in order to sneak out six American hostages. And yes, it worked. Well, it didn't take long for a studio to realize the now-unclassified story would make a perfect non-non-existent movie. Warner Bros. has bought the rights to the article and has tapped none other than George Clooney and Grant Heslov to write the screenplay.

The last film Clooney and Heslov wrote together was Good Night, and Good Luck, for which they received Oscar nominations. And considering the fact that Clooney has worked with CIA subject matter before, with his directorial debut, Confessions of a Dangerous Mind, and with his Oscar-winning performance in Syriana, the man seems fully qualified. Hopefully Clooney will also direct the film, which will be called Escape From Tehran, or at least appear in it. It would also be perfect if the project, labeled a dramedy, could employ the two makeup artists, but unfortunately one of them is no longer alive. John Chambers, who won an Honorary Academy Award in 1969 for his work on Planet of the Apes, died in 2001. However, his partner on the mission, Robert Sidell, who went on to do the makeup for E.T., may be able to contribute somehow.

Escape From Tehran reminds me of two other films, Wag the Dog and The Last Shot, but it will likely be good enough to make me forget both (especially the latter). The only thing I ask for is a title change. Right now it sounds like it should feature Kurt Russell as Snake Plisskin, or worse, it could confuse people if it comes out anytime close to the Escape from New York remake. Here is my suggestion, which will associate it better with Clooney's and Heslov's work: You May Proceed. Good Luck. Okay, it isn't actually a better title, but if you read the article (do it!), my idea will at least make sense.

I love when judges throw out cases that are completely ridiculous. (It always reminds me of when a judge threw out the "hit and run" charges I was facing for accidentally putting a ding in a co-worker's prized Camarro.) Not so similar, but not that dissimilar either, is the case just thrown out by a French court. Screenwriter Stephanie Vergniault was attempting to sue Warner Bros., writer-director Stephen Gaghan and Section Eight, the production company of George Clooney and Steven Soderbergh, because she claimed Gaghan's film Syriana had plagiarized her own script about the CIA and the Persian Gulf oil industry, written in 2002.

The judge called the scripts "obviously different," and declared the similarity in focus between the two "coincidental". Vergniault had absolutely no case, it seems, and couldn't even provide requested proof of her claim that she had sent the script to a Canadian company linked to Warner Bros. Let this be a lesson to you fledgling screenwriters so you don't waste precious court time and, more importantly, also make fools of yourselves: Not only did Vergniault not get her desired $2.5 million, but now she will likely never get a legitimate deal, either.

Somewhat surprisingly, Syriana is playing in the United Arab Emirates right now, and it's (mostly) intact. About two minutes of footage have been removed from Stephen Gaghan's epic tale of oil and corruption at the request of government authorities; among other things, those two minutes include "scenes showing mistreatment of Asian workers in the Gulf;" "a brief shot showing the late Saudi King Fahd in a photograph:" "a comment made by Matt Damon's character linking the business interests of the Bin Laden's family to the holy city of Mecca." The film was more carefully reviewed than most that are showed in the UAE, and was actually examined by two different government bodies before the final cuts were made.

In other censorship news, a foolishly idealistic distributor in the Middle East has scrapped plans to show Brokeback Mountain there (what with homosexuality being both illegal and morally condemned in many Middle Eastern nations). According to a representative of Italia films, when they asked various governments in the region for their feelings about releasing the movie, the consensus response was "they would rather not deal with it." Gee, that's a shock.

Uh oh. If a French screenwriter is telling the truth, Stephen Gaghan might be about to find himself in some very hot legal water. According to Stephanie Vergniault, whose case against Gaghan, Warner Brothers, and Section Eight (George Clooney and Steven Soderbergh's production company) will be heard in a Paris court on Monday, "At least 15 to 20 scenes of [Syriana] -- the characters and how they develop, creative elements, the entire structure -- [have] been lifted directly" from a screenplay she wrote and copyrighted in 2004.

The reason no one heard about this sooner is because Vergniault, who is "a specialist on geopolitics in the Middle East," has been living in Jordan, away from the latest Hollywood releases. She says she only saw the film after a friend in LA mentioned the similarities between it and her work and now, sister, she is pissed off.

Hmm. Do you think that best original screenplay nomination of Gaghan's will quietly disappear if the suit is proved to have merit?

Perhaps the only thing I love about the fact Crash won Best Picture is that it now affords us the not-so-rare chance to see the cultural classes trudge into the familiar 'circular firing squad' formation they snap into so reflexively just before cutting each other to ribbons. Depending on who you talk to, Brokeback Mountain didn't win because the Academy is a bunch of homophobes. Or, Crash won because the Academy wanted to pay attention to a film that talked about the real problems of racism as opposed to the boutique, bourgeois concern of homosexual civil rights. (Which, to digress, is why right-wing cultural commentators have it so easy: Because their potential opposition is busy fighting each other to death instead of closing ranks and challenging the dimwit, hateful, leaden screeches of well-funded idiots like Ann Coulter.)

Or, it was because Crash had showy parts for actors, who comprise the biggest part of the Academy's voting blocks, and it was set and made in L.A., and that put it over the top. Or over-hype for Brokeback poisoned the film's own chances. Or Lionsgate pulled a Miramax and, by spending $4 million dollars to send DVDs out to SAG and Academy voters, threw the vote by wielding the money stick and appealing to convenience-minded Academy voters, who could watch Crash at home without slumming among, you know, moviegoers – even as poor Jake Gyllenhaal was forced to mouth Oscar-night platitudes about how You gots to go see movies in the theater, folks! The truth may not be out there, but the weary conspiracy theories are.

So, progressively-minded culture watchers face off like the Jets and Sharks, accusing each other of ignoring homophobia or ignoring racism. Which is hi-larious to me; when asked by a friend for a quick take on Best Picture, I offered that "Well, I guess the Academy chose to honor a film that's not really about racism over a film that's not really about gay rights. ..."

Triple Oscar nominee George Clooney isn't apologizing for making a joke about lobbyist Jack Abramoff during his Golden Globe's acceptance speech.  According to a story in USA today, Abramoff's father wasn't happy about it and wrote an angry letter to The Desert Sun newspaper attacking Clooney for the off-color reference about his son, saying that Clooney's remark made his granddaughter cry. Clooney is unrepentant, however, saying on The Larry King Show that Abramoff, who has pleaded guilty to numerous fraud and bribery for providing "lavish trips, golf outings, meals", and more to politicians in exchange for political favors, is the one who has disgraced the Abramoff name. 

Clooney is nominated for Academy Awards for supporting actor for Syriana and for screenwriting and directing for Good Night, and Good Luck.

George Clooney doesn't expect to win any Oscars. Really, he doesn't. It's an honor just to be nominated, and all that jazz.  Actually, of all the guys in Hollywood, Clooney is the one guy I actually believe when he says that, which is why he's one of my secret movie star boyfriends. Whether he really is sincere, or he's just really good at acting sincere, who can say? I'm a sucker for those soulful puppydog eyesn and earnest eyebrows, I guess.

Clooney scored three Oscar noms - directing and screenplay nods for Good Night and Good Luck, and a supporting actor nom for his role in Syriana, in which he plays a CIA agent assigned to assassinate the heir to the throne in a Persian Gulf country. You'd think with three noms, he ought to have a decent shot of scoring Oscar gold on at least one.

Personally, I think the Academy needs to invent a special award for actors who put on 35 pounds in a month just to play a part, as Clooney did for Syriana. Do you know how many Twinkies, Krispy Kremes, and Fatburgers it takes to pack on 35 pounds in 30 days? It's not as easy as just slipping into a fatsuit and some latex appliances, as Gywneth Paltrow did for Shallow Hal. Clooney actually ATE to get chunky. And he was forced to grow that nappy looking beard that made him look like my drunk Uncle Louie. Surely that's worth something in the world of self-congratulatory Hollywood back-patting.

Given the success of Syriana and the ubiquity of the Middle East in the news, it's no surprise that big studios have recently acquired a pair of projects set in that region. Oddly, Ridley Scott's fingerprints (as well as those of novelist David Ignatius) are all over both of them. The first - described by Variety as "a high priority for [Paramount]" - is The Invisible World, which Scott will direct. The film is based on a treatment by Ignatius which grew into Dana Stevens' screenplay and may prove to be a bit touchy, given that its story revolves around the kidnapping of a female journalist in Iraq.

The second project is in Warner Brothers' hands, and is at a much earlier stage of development. The studio has acquired the rights to Penetration, a novel by Ignatius about "a CIA operative's attempt to track a high-ranking terrorist in Jordan." The hope at Warners is that Scott will direct the film, once a screenplay is completed.

MPAA lead man Dan Glickman had a "get me out of here" look on his face for most of Saturday afternoon's Brave New World: Entertainment and Social Change panel. And can you blame him? A sometime congressman and former Secretary of Agriculture, Glickman was nothing but humble upon his turn to speak. "I came here as the least qualified person to speak about movies," he admitted. "Here I am representing what I believe is the most powerful industry in
America ... [and] I have a lot to learn about this business." Cue poor agriculture metaphor in 3 ... 2 ... 1: "Indie film is the intellectual fertilizer of America," Glickman said. Presumably, this was his way of beslavering the assembled masses, but it hardly came off.

By that point in the panel, Glickman had already dug his own grave with an opening gaffe that pretty much stripped him of what little credibility he had as even a film fan, let alone as the enforcer o fpolitics over content. Earlier, moderator Pat Mitchell got the following all-in-fun jab in the ribs whilst introducing panelist/God of Sundance Robert Redford:

Mitchell: [Redford's] body of work includes, from the very begining ... films about so much
more than enjoying ourselves– they were about changing the world. The Candidate actually led to some people running for office –
Redford: Yeah – the wrong people.

About twenty minutes later, after his own introduction from Mitchell, Glickman tried to improv-riff on that little exchange, with the worst possible results.

Glickman mumbled, so I'm paraphrasing, but his opening statement went something like, "I may have been the wrong person to run for office, but I did it long before The Graduate." It's not just that Hollywood's most powerful government representative managed to accidentally insult the most important independent film advocate in (maybe) the world whilst enjoying said advocate's hospitality – he did it by referencing a film that then-pretty-boy Redford was famously up for the lead in, only to be passed over for Dustin Hoffman. The reaction? Darts from Redford's eyes, a murmur from the crowd, and an interruption from Mitchell: "The Graduate?"

Glickman is a convenient scapegoat in this crowd – probably everyone on the panel (which also included producer Jeff Eberts, founder of eBay and Participant Productions Jeff Skoll, and indie distribution master Bingham Ray) has had a ratings scuffle of some kind, and surely a good portion of the audience lives in fear of his determination to brutally prosecute any and all piracy that appears on his radar. But other than a few moments of minor humiliation for a guy who was probably asking for it by showing up in the first place, the panel was smoothly engaging, if not revelatory. The remainder of my notes follow, below the jump. I think, beyond Glickman, they really key stuff here comes from Jeff Skoll, who broke down exactly why his Participant Productions can justify putting out two potentially incediary George Clooney films in a single year without every worrying about using the star to turn a profit.