At the Movies

by Pa Rock
Popcorn Connoisseur

Last night while the rest of the world was watching the Grammy's or playing World of Warcraft, I was tuned into the annual awards show presented by the British Academy of Film and Television Arts, also known as the BAFTA's. The Golden Globe Awards and the BAFTA's are two indicators of where the Oscar's may be heading later this month. My objective in watching the Brit awards was to see whether my unflinching enthusiasm for Kate Winslet's performance in The Reader was on-the-mark or not.

There was quite a bit of correlation between the Golden Globe winners and those who took home BAFTA awards. Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie were so ignored by both award shows that I was embarrassed for them. Heath Ledger was selected by both groups as Best Supporting Actor for his quirky portrayal of the Joker in The Dark Knight. Both groups also selected Mickey "old piece of meat" Rourke as Best Actor. Mickey looked slightly less stoned last night than he had been at the Golden Globes, and this time he was able to make it up the steps to receive the award without tripping.

Slumdog Millionaire won the Golden Globe and BAFTA for Best Original Musical Score, Best Director, and Best Picture. It was clearly the crowd favorite at the BAFTA Awards, eliciting screaming and yelling each time that it was announced as a nominee.

And Miss Winslet? She won Best Supporting Actress at the Golden Globes for her role in The Reader, something that I don't fully understand because she was clearly the star. That was possibly due to the fact that she was nominated for Best Actress for her role in Revolutionary Road, and the Globes did not want to put her in the tacky position of running against herself. She won both of those awards, by the way. The BAFTA's had no compunction against having Miss Winslet compete against herself (and Angelina Jolie, Kristin Scott Thomas, and Meryl Streep) for their Best Actress award - and she won - this time for The Reader.

At that point I realized that I knew just as much about good drama as a room full of stuffy Brits!

I have now seen three of the five nominees for the Oscar for Best Picture: Slumdog Millionaire, Milk, and The Reader. All three are outstanding. The other two are The Curious Case of Benjamin Button and Frost / Nixon. I have been trying to forget about Nixon for decades, and will not be paying good money to bring back the bad old days. I also chose not to see "W" for essentially the same reason. I may try to see The Curious Case of Benjamin Button if time permits, but if the Golden Globes and BAFTA's are reliable indicators, Brad and Angelina might as well stay home and play with the kids because Oscar ain't gonna go home with either of them.

I guess that's what happens when you dump on a Friend!

The Reader

by Pa Rock
Film Critic

I am old enough to have seen some amazing movies on the big screen. Dr. Zhivago, The Graduate, and Cabaret leap to mind. Each of those delivered sucker punches to the gut that left me struggling to focus on the "real world" upon exiting the theater. This afternoon I saw The Reader, a darkly moving cinematic event under the direction of Stephen Daldry. The reviews let me know that I would enjoy (if that is the right word) The Reader a great deal, but I had no idea the extent to which I would be drawn into the experience and come away with concern and genuine feelings for the characters who lived out this tale.

The story focuses on a German lawyer who is looking back on his life and trying to understand the aloofness that he exhibits toward others, particularly his grown daughter. He thinks back to his first love, a strongly sexual affair that he had with a trolley-matron who was in her mid-thirties. He was an inexperienced lad of fifteen when they first met, but by the time she disappears from his life three months later he has become a seasoned lover. A central part of their love-making is her desire for him to read to her.

While it is often steamy, The Reader, is certainly no skin flick. It encompasses the horrors of the holocaust, the boundaries of love, and the relevance of ethics in a complicated world.

If you want more than that, go see the movie.

The ads, posters, and even the marquee credit Kate Winslet and Ralph Fiennes as being the stars of this movie. Perhaps, but that is with Fiennes doing so to a much lesser degree than Winslet. The film belongs to Kate Winslet: beginning, middle, and end. She is astounding in what truly is the role of a lifetime. Fiennes is good, very good, but while he necessarily plays second fiddle to Winslet, he is also seriously out-acted by newcomer David Kross who plays Finnes's character as a young man. The 18-year-old Kross and the 33-year-old Winslet drive themselves seamlessly through bouts of sexual passion, anger, despair, and renewal.

The Reader is an emotionally draining experience, but it is also very damned good!