New Reviews: A Gay Double Feature: Adam & Steve, Surge of Power

OK, folks, here are reviews of two new gay flicks that are just now, um, "coming out." Enjoy!

ADAM & STEVE
(TLA Releasing, rated R, 99 min.)

Actor-writer-director Craig Chester’s gay romantic comedy Adam & Steve is not a perfect film, but at least it avoids the stale clichés that often litter most of today’s self-consciously gay-themed entertainment. In this light and breezy romp through (what else?) the trials of the heart, Chester (Swoon, Grief) stars as Adam, a single man who, when we first meet him, is a Robert Smith-idolizing Goth with the requisite bad hair and eye makeup who spends most of his time hanging out in clubs with the requisitely overweight fag hag Rhonda (Parker Posey in a hysterical fat suit). When he meets go-go boy Steve (Malcolm Gets, looking much buffer than I remember him on Caroline in the City), the encounter – which includes copious amounts of coke laced, um, with baby laxatives – inevitably ends in disaster, and the two part ways never to see each other again. Or so they think. Cut to 17 years later, when Adam and Steve unexpectedly reunite after Adam almost kills his dog (don’t ask) and rushes the poor pooch into the hospital where Steve, now a successful doctor, works. Not recognizing each other from their previous encounter, they eventually wind up in a relationship that is, of course, doomed by the inevitable realization that is to come. It’s a clever setup, and one that is informed by Chester’s obvious fondness for the romantic comedy genre, even if his somewhat lackadaisical style as a director occasionally clashes with the more outrageous tone of his slapstick-inspired script. Still, it’s a fun ride. Buoyed by the engaging performances of the ensemble cast (SNL vet Chris Kattan is particularly riotous as Steve’s straight roommate Michael) and benefiting from Chester’s confident, no-guilt approach to an otherwise formulaic genre, Adam & Steve may not be the ultimate date movie, but that’s certainly no reason not to embrace a film that is this un-self-conscious about being exactly what it is. That’s not a bad lesson for the entire gay community, come to think of it. Grade: B. --Originally published in IN Los Angeles Magazine.

SURGE OF POWER
(Company, not rated, 98 min.)

For those who’d always fantasized that Spider-man had been bitten by a radioactive spider that was part of an experiment on, say, the origins of sexual orientation, Mike Donahue’s decidedly kitschy gay superhero flick Surge of Power just might be the movie for you. Or not. As a bona fide superhero fan myself (I’m a sucker for a man in a codpiece and colorful tights), I’d like to report that Donahue’s indie comedy redefines action hero stories for a contemporary gay audience. But, rather than send up the genre (as one might have hoped any creative queen with a camera might do), Donahue merely tweaks it to include a surprisingly outdated gay sensibility. Working with a woefully limited budget and a cast of “actors” (I use the term very loosely) who appear to have never even heard of acting class, Donahue gleefully follows all the conventions of superhero origins without giving them a truly fresh spin: Comic book fanatic Gavin (Vincent J. Roth, who also wrote, produced, and designed costumes for the film) acquires odd electrical powers after an egomaniacal science queen named Hector (John T. Venturini) with delusions of grandeur and an overly gym-pumped body causes an explosion in a scientist’s laboratory, then sets about saving the world while romancing the pants off the badly dressed circuit queen he saved from a potential fag bashing. The script is supposed to be witty (a la Scream, characters frequently comment upon the superhero conventions applied throughout the film; Surge’s one superhero weakness is—wait for it—dance music), but the dialogue is so embarrassingly cringe-worthy (“Wait’ll the city gets a load of my magnetic personality!” seethes the magnetically powered Hector) and the acting so awkward (honestly, I’ve seen better work in porn flicks) that most of the “jokes” just fall flat with a resounding Pow! Even a series of D-grade celebrity cameos (hey, there’s Lou Ferrigno ordering a copy of a gay comic book!) can’t buoy the film’s spirits. Still, I wouldn’t be surprised if this so-bad-it’s-actually-unintentionally-hysterical stinker wound up becoming a gay cult classic. At least the midnight costume screenings would be a riot! Grade: D. -- Originally published in IN Los Angeles Magazine.

New Reviews: Summer Storm & V for Vendetta

Summer Storm
(Bavaria Film International, rated R, 98 min.)

If any genre of filmmaking is overdone, it’s the gay coming-of-age drama. Between the heavy-handed dramatics and sermonizing populating the likes of Beautiful Thing, Edge of Seventeen, The Incredibly True Adventures of Two Girls in Love, Dorian Blues and the myriad of what seems like hundreds of others, the genre has become ridiculously precious. A few of these movies have actually gotten it right; Beautiful Thing, for instance, told its story of young gay love with tongue planted firmly in cheek, while Two Girls in Love captured the aching of adolescent puppy love with surprising authenticity. But too often gay filmmakers attempting to revisit their youths revert to tired clichés and childish theatrics to get their points across. So when I heard that Marco Kreuzpaintner’s film Summer Storm was yet another gay coming-out flick, my first thought was, “It’s probably going to suck.” The pleasant surprise, however, is that it doesn’t. In fact, it’s quite good, and I dare say that it’s the first film of its kind to actually get it almost 100 percent right. Tobi (German superstar Robert Stradlober) is a teenager with a big secret: He’s got a serious crush on his best bud and rowing teammate Achim (Kostja Ullmann), but he’s pretty sure that Achim is straight, even though the two boys like to wrestle around together with erections before masturbating side by side. Things get complicated, however, when Achim starts dating Sandra (Miriam Morgenstern) and Sandra’s girlfriend Anke (Alicja Bachleda-Curus) takes a liking to Tobi. When the boys’ rowing team again travels to participate in an annual cup championship – this time against an all-gay team of athletic rowers – things really get confusing for Tobi as he faces serious questions of identity. Based in part on Kreuzpaintner’s own teenage experiences (he, too, was an athlete in love with his hetero buddy), the movie nails the pangs of first love and adolescent awkwardness with surprising authenticity. What makes Kreuzpaintner’s film so entertaining is its lack of melodramatic histrionics and sentimentality. Instead, the action unfolds in a somewhat languid pacing that allows for each scene to let true emotion come through in the uniformly strong performances. What’s more, though the film is about a gay teen (and yes, there is a very tastefully shot sex scene), almost anyone could relate to its tale of adolescent longing and confusion. Grade: B+

V for Vendetta
(Warner Bros., rated R, 132 min.)

Although James McTeigue’s film version of V for Vendetta is a visually spellbinding piece of movie spectacle that is sure to delight many comic book fans around the world, those wishing to see a more faithful rendering of the graphic novel by Alan Moore and David Lloyd may be woefully disappointed. Written and produced by the team of Andy and Larry Wachowski (they of The Matrix trilogy and the lesbian heist flick Bound), the film is a relatively ham-handed but surprisingly entertaining film that explores issues of dictatorial politicians, personal freedom and ultimately just good old fashioned good versus evil. After cable TV intern Evey (a radiant Natalie Portman) is saved from a couple of lecherous policemen by the mysteriously masked terrorist/hero V (Hugo Weaving), she finds herself drawn unwillingly into his morally ambiguous vigilante ways; as a result, she is forced to question her own values and dedication to personal freedom. Set in the not-so-distant future after Britain has essentially taken control of the world and all the freedoms of its inhabitants, the movie attempts to make some not-so-subtle comparisons to the Bush administration and its controversial Patriot Act. Yet, while John Hurt has a rollicking good time pumping his fists and carrying on as seething Nazi-esque ruler Chancellor Sutler (gotta love that red-on-black art direction), the film lacks a true sense of menace, failing to paint a convincing portrait of a world stripped of its freedom. Which leaves McTeigue to settle for thrilling theatrics instead of any authentic emotional depth. V’s actions – as heroic as they are intended to be – seem designed more to thrill comic book fans and sci-fi geeks looking for blood and gore than for serious-minded movie-going audiences hoping for some real meat to gnaw on. Still, the film wears its inherent superficiality like a badge of honor, and it’s hard not to get caught up in the story as it unfolds. Weaving’s V is a delightfully droll creature – part Phantom of the Opera, part Musketeer, part slasher hero. The actor plays the role so gamely that his wit becomes infectious – even if the film chickens out in presenting his character in the questionable light he was originally written with. Portman, for her part, does the best she can with a role that essentially reduces her character to that of a bystander. The film’s biggest flaw, however, is the absence of its creator, Alan Moore, who so disagreed with the Wachowski boys’ vision of his story that he had his name removed from the credits. And why not? At nearly every turn, the film strips its source material of its more sinister overtones. Evey is essentially just Keanu Reeves’ Neo character as a woman with a Sinead O’Connor hairdo, and the Wachowskis’ version of Britain is really just the Matrix in real time and in color. That’s good news for Matrix fans, not-so-good news for comic book purists. Grade: B+

A Belated Oscar Night Post

So, it's been a couple weeks since the Oscar Awards came and went. Now that the smoke has cleared and the dust settled, though, I think that many are still left wondering: What the hell happened? Of course, I'm speaking of the night's major upset, the out-of-nowhere win for Best Picture usurped by Crash that should have gone -- by almost all accounts -- to Brokeback Mountain.

Almost as soon as the event was over, pundits began speculating over the reasons for the upset: Since most Oscar voters live in and around Los Angeles, a movie that specifically addressed the "L.A. experience" like Crash spoke to them more than one that dealt with rural life. Or perhaps people felt that Brokeback's widespread critical acclaim and the momentum it had gained in mainstream society was getting out of hand, and they rebelled against conventional widsom. Or maybe the movie just turned off too man older male voters who were not yet ready to see two cowboys getting it on at their local movie house. (Of course, an aggressive Oscar campaign that included DVD copies of the film being sent to every single voter didn't hurt.)

Personally, I think that there is something to be said for all of these reasons, and I think all of them had a hand in the Oscar upset. And I'm pretty pissed off about it, too. To me, it feels like a rather blatant slap in the face, especially since Brokeback had won the top honor at virtually every other awards ceremony leading up to the Oscars. And to give the film major Oscars for Best Adapted Screenplay and Best Director, then deny it the big award just seemed like a big, fat, resounding kick in the nuts. What angers me most of all is that if you look at the critical response to Brokeback and Crash, Ang Lee's film had the advantage. It was, in fact, the best-reviewed film of 2005. By contrast, Crash, with its ridiculously convenient coincidences and obvious superiority complex ("Look how enlightened we are for talking about racism! Oh, by the way, you should all be ashamed of yourselves, you bunch of racists!"), was received tepidly by critics, with mixed reviews keeping it from winning all the adulation that went to Brokeback.

Look, I liked Crash. When I first saw it, in fact, I loved it. It made me feel. It made me think. I saw the world differently when I left the theater. I felt as if I, too, had been in a crash of some kind. I usually dig that kind of experience. But the more I thought about the movie, the more its many flaws began to reveal themselves to me. I realized that I had mistaken spectacle for depth, and it was then that I figured out that I had been manipulated into feeling an emotion that the film didn't earn on its own merits. It didn't tell a story; it forced one upon us. True, the acting in the film is nearly flawless on all accounts (it's a crime that Thandie Newton was not nominated for Best Supporting Actress), and that scene where Matt Dillon pulls Newton out of the overturned car is one of the most riveting I've ever sat through. But what bothers me about the movie now are all the little coincidences that populate it. Everything was too easy. Everything worked out just right at just the right time. "Oh, look how all these characters are interconnected and how they come into each other's lives at just the right moment. Amazing, huh? It really is a small world, isn't it?" (Actually, not so much.)

On the opposite end of the spectrum was Brokeback, a film of such serene gentleness that its profound impact got lost on viewers bowled over by Crash's heavy-handed histrionics. "Brokeback was too slow," people keep saying. "The middle section of it was dull." As a screenwriter, it saddens me to see that people can be so restless, so enslaved by the ADD that Hollywood has inflicted upon them with too many action films. Apparently movies have to have high-speed car chases, things blowing up and bank robberies in order to be judged entertaining. Simple films, eloquent films, true-to-life films about everyday ordinariness are deemed to be "boring" and "pretentious." (I can't tell you how many otherwise intelligent people dismiss Sofia Coppola's brilliant Lost in Translation as nothing more than arthouse dreck, or the legions of Sideways-haters who couldn't connect to that film's many radiant charms.) Brokeback, with its understated performanes and languid pacing, delivered a message just as profound as that featured in Crash, but it did it without the heavy-handed ironies and the chest-thumping..

The Golden Globes got it right when they snubbed Crash, failing to give it even a nomination. And yet it still snuck up on Brokeback and stole the Best Picture Oscar right out from under it. And I'm mad. I'm mad that Oscar voters thumbed their noses at the chance to make what could honestly have been a move for change. Brokeback, being the "big fat chick flick" that many are dismissing it as, may not be the most original movie ever made (yes, we've all seen the tragic love story before), but what it has going for it was its willingness to tell an authentic story of societal oppression's squelching of true love. Forget all the criticsm that the movie's tragic ending perpetuates the notion that gay love leads to unhappiness (such ridiculously reductive sentiments are usually only made by those who are all too happy playing the victim, it must be said); Brokeback showed those open enough to listen that love is something to be seized and celebrated, and it did it without being obvious about it. Its subtlety (like its simple, "boring" narrative) was its most powerful asset.

So what's next for gay and lesbian films? Well, we've got a surprisingly poignant German coming-out story (Summer Storm) hitting theaters March 24, and March 31 brings Craig Chester's amusing romantic comedy Adam & Steve. Sadly, both of these films will probably be relegated to quick arthouse releases, and it could be years before another film of Brokeback's magnitude is able to "break through" to the mainstream again. If the Oscars taught us anything, thought, it's that perhaps the world is simply not ready for such subject matter to be displayed on movie screens all over the country. And, far more than Brokeback's ending, that is a profoundly sad statement about society to be made.

XOXO,
Hollywood Ken

P.S: Don't forget to check out my brand new TV blog by clicking here!

New Reviews: Ask the Dust, Battle in Heaven, Hard Candy & The Zodiac

Hey, folks, I'm back with some new film reviews. In this installment are write-ups for four new films: Ask the Dust, Battle in Heaven, Hard Candy and The Zodiac. Read on, and don't forget to post your comments.

ASK THE DUST
(Paramount Classics, rated R, # min.)

Colin Farrell is one of those talented actors that inevitably becomes more famous for their off-screen actions than for their performances in movies. No matter how good they are on the big screen, they simply cannot overcome the prejudice of audience perception. Witness the recent public shaming of the once-adored Russell Crowe, who, in addition to being unfairly overlooked by the Oscars for his riveting turn in Cinderella Man, now seems to have become the whipping boy for a media and viewing public hell-bent on tearing down the very idols we create. The difference between Crowe and Farrell, however, is that, while movie-going audiences may be distracted by Farrell’s “bad boy” antics off-screen, his non-Hollywood life is forgiven as being simply par for the course for young actors. So what if he likes to booze it up, swear like a fookin’ sailor and film himself while having sex with porn starlets? At least he’s not punching anyone out or throwing telephones at motel clerks. In his first post-X-rated performance following the release of that naughty videotape, Farrell again gets naked for the cameras (although audiences hoping for another full-frontal shot will have to settle for a well-lit close-up of his bottom) while playing very much to type as “bad boy” Italian-American writer Arturo Bandini in the film adaptation of John Fante’s semi-autobiographical novel Ask the Dust. It’s a studied performance, notably absent of Farrell’s trademark Irish accent, and one that reveals that he knows how to tone it down when the time calls for it. Unfortunately, this was not that time. The film, gently directed by Chinatowne screenwriter Robert Towne, tracks the often volatile relationship between Bandini, a scrappy young writer who dreams of becoming a writer and marrying a beautiful blonde, and Camilla (Selma Hayek), a fiery young Mexican who hopes to snag herself a WASP. Set in the racially-divided Los Angeles of the 1930s, the film is beautifully art directed and photographed (the city becomes its own character), but ultimately suffers from an overly grandiose script (characters frequently talk as if they are lifting dialogue directly from one of Fante’s novels) and Farrell’s surprisingly stiff performance. As Bandini, Farrell often speaks in such laboriously studied speech that his words come off as expressionless. And that’s too bad. Having seen his most recent, er, “indie work,” we all know he’s capable of a much more rowdy performance than this. GRADE: C+--Originally published in IN Los Angeles Magazine

BATTLE IN HEAVEN
(Tartan Films, not rated, # min.)

Upon leaving the screening room where we had just watched Mexican filmmaker Carlos Reygadas’ latest film, Battle in Heaven, my friend Mike turned to me and said, “Wow, that was disturbing on so many levels.” Indeed, Reygadas’ film is like a nightmare of sorts, dragging you through a series of horrific events that lead up to a dreadfully depressing conclusion. The movie tells the story of Marcos (Marcos Hernandez), a driver for the Mexican general, whose morality is tested after he and his wife (Bertha Ruiz) kidnap a baby that dies in their custody. As he struggles with the ramifications of his actions, Marcos wanders through the next few days in a sort of daze, coming out of his shell only to confess to (and have sex with) the general’s disaffected daughter Ana (Anapola Mushkadiz, a lovely and talented young newcomer), who also has a secret of her own. A good bit of unnecessarily gratuitous fornication (complete with close-ups of erections, vaginas and breasts—-oh my!), violence, apathetic dialogue, and seemingly eternal silences follow, until Marcos finally decides to seek redemption from a higher power. If it sounds depressing, it’s because it is. Reygadas, for his part, does little to combat this, choosing instead to let his camera linger on images of mountains, sweat dripping from a T-shirt, or crowds walking in a pacing that could only be described as frustratingly slooooooow. Like many indie films, the film is gratingly self-conscious, wearing its (supposed) naturalism on its sleeve like a badge of honor. The irony is that, for all the film’s emphasis on minimalist emotion and lack of narrative (one of Reygadas’ staples), it feels laboriously forced. You get the sense that Reygadas is, frankly, trying to be natural, and the movie just feels too arty for its own good. I suppose there will be those who applaud such minimalism, but I, for one, am not one of them. I just kept praying for a big Hollywood car chase to come and lift me out of all the misery. GRADE: D-—-Originally published in IN Los Angeles Magazine

HARD CANDY
(Lion’s Gate, rated R, 103 min.)

If there’s one thing that can be said about former music video director David Slade’s sadistic revenge thriller Hard Candy, it’s that it certainly accomplishes what it sets out to do. Slade’s second feature (following 2004’s relatively obscure Do Geese See God?) is a profoundly disturbing story that frequently pushes its situations (including pedophilia, murder and, um, castration) to the extreme and explores the dark abscesses of desire. Jeff (Angels in America’s Patrick Wilson, nicely redeeming himself after The Phantom of the Opera) is a seemingly mild-mannered photographer who agrees via the Internet to meet up with a wise-beyond-her-years schoolgirl (newcomer Ellen Page, in a mesmerizing debut), who says she likes to read Zadie Smith, talks like a professional hooker, and wants to model for Jeff. What ensues after they get back to his house is a thrill-ride of suspense and comeuppance that plunges its audience straight-on into the depths of the twisted human psyche. The teenager turns out to be a modern-day Lolita, “seducing” Jeff into giving her the upper hand before she reveals her shocking hidden motives. It’s a somewhat far-fetched scenario (for a 14-year-old, Page’s Hayley is a little too wise beyond her years), and there are times when watching the film becomes a test of one’s endurance for sadomasochism. But it is to Slade’s credit that throughout the extremely talky, mostly two-character encounter, the suspense never lets up, while audience allegiance continually shifts back and forth between the two leads as the drama unfolds. Just be prepared to squirm and plan on not getting much sleep that night. GRADE: B+--Originally published in Frontiers Newsmagazine.

THE ZODIAK
(Blackwater Films, not yet rated, 98 min.)

Suspense yarns built around serial killers are a dime a dozen these days. Ever since The Silence of the Lambs set the bar extremely high for tales about mentally deranged psychopaths with a knack for creative killing, the crime thriller genre has become the hot market to over-saturate. What sets Alexander Bulkley’s The Zodiac apart, however, is not only its modestly indie production values and budget, but its emphasis on the characters’ reactions to the evil that invades their sleepy Northern California town. Would that all the effort paid off. Based on the infamously unsolved murders that occurred in and around the town of Vallejo during the late 60s, the movie depicts with vivid brutality the killing themselves (often to the point of—I’ll say it—overkill), then shifts the focus to the young detective (Grey’s Anatomy’s hunky Justin Chambers) assigned to the case. Under pressure from an insistent police chief (Philip Baker Hall) intent on saving face and his increasingly paranoid wife (Robin Tunney), Chambers' Lt. Matt Parish slowly begins to crumble, eventually taking his anger out on his loved ones as he realizes that things are beyond his control. It’s mostly good stuff, yet even when it works, the movie falls just short of compelling. Perhaps because director Bulkley himself grew up in the Napa Valley area where the film is shot (and where the murders took place), he took it for granted that viewers will immediately connect to the movie's characters. Yet, for all the film’s focus on a more “intimate” narrative, The Zodiac feels surprisingly cold and detached. An effectively sinister tone pervades the script (penned by Bulkley and his older brother/producing partner Kelly), but it is often marred by Bulkley’s insistence on turning the story into a steamy “potboiler” populated by too many cinematic clichés (a reporter bangs away on his typewriter while a lighted cigarette dangles from his mouth, the killer prepares his weapons while playing--groan!--opera music) and an abruptly anticlimactic ending. Though Bulkley deserves credit for attempting something different with a tired genre, the horoscope for this Zodiac is, unfortunately, pretty grim. GRADE: B-—-Originally published in IN Los Angeles Magazine

Oscar This!: My 2006 Academy Award Predictions!

Hello again. Dang, it's been so long since my last post. What a bad, bad blogger I've been lately, huh? I'll post another update soon (promise), but for now, I want to get on to something very important... Oscar Predictions! Yep, folks, since it's just about that time again. Time when film fanatics get antsy, offices hold Oscar pools and Hollywood pats itself on the back for all the good work they've done (and hey, why not?). This year's Oscars promise to be one of the more interesting races in recent years, especially with the depth of talent that is nominated. Indie films seem to be the most represented of the nominees, with nods to Brokeback Mountain (Focus Features), Capote (Sony Pictures Classics), Crash (Lion's Gate) and Good Night, and Good Luck (Warner Independent Films). And with gay or gay-themed films represented in all the top categories, the 2006 Oscars could be a major victory for the gay community. I'm placing my bets on the following nominees to walk off the winners. See if any of these match your picks, and post your comments. Looking forward to seeing what you have to say.

Without further ado, here we go...

KEN'S 2006 OSCAR PREDICTIONS

BEST PICTURE: BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN

Having seen all the picture nominees, and having liked all of them to
some degree, I have to go with Brokeback Mountain, not only b/cuz it is, at the moment, possibly the most culturally significant of the bunch (after that landslide defeat of gay marriage initiatives in those 2004 elections, an old-fashioned Hollywood love story about two men whose love for each other is devastated by homophobia is a subtle but powerful way to give the finger to bigots across the country), but b/cuz it is the most understated, eloquent and simply beautiful of the bunch. Good Night, And Good Luck was, to me, too sparse, too simple, too small. Capote was more of an actor's movie than it was a story movie. Munich was good, but just didn't hit all the right notes. And Crash, as much as I loved it and its message, was just a tad bit overwrought for my tastes in its well-intended but often manipulative depiction of race relations in the big city, and I think that might work against its chances. Brokeback, on the other hand, with its simple, elegiac narrative and uniformly understated performances, was the most haunting--and also the most profound--of the nominees. Add to that the wealth of critical accolades being tossed at the movie, and I think it's a safe bet to say that, this year, Hollywood is "going gay." (And really, it's about f#cking time. Haha)

BEST DIRECTOR: ANG LEE

Though I thought Steven Spielberg did a superb job with Munich (I love the very 1970s feel the movie had, not only in the costumes and settings, but in the film's relatively languid pacing, which reminded me of The China Syndrome and All the President's Men), I don't think Munich is showy enough for him to win the Oscar. That leaves Paul Haggis, Bennett Miller, George Clooney and Ang Lee. Good Night, And Good Luck will most likely be shut out of all the categories it is nominated in (i's just too small a film by Academy-standards to win an Oscar for anything major), and Capote isn't as lofty as most Oscar-winning films usually are. In another year, Paul Haggis might have walked off for managing several interweaving storylines in Crash, but there is simply no beating Ang Lee, who not only delivered the year's most genuinely heartbreaking love story, but he wrestled the finest performances of the year out of his cast.

BEST ACTOR: PHILIP SEYMOUR HOFFMAN

My personal favorite is Heath Ledger, not only b/cuz his portrayal of a straight cowboy (truly, I don't think his character is really "gay") in love with another man is a show-stopping marvel of explosive longing, but also b/cuz he's one of only 2 men nominated in this category that created a role out of scratch. But the Academy loves anything showy, which means that Philip Seymour Hoffman's tour de force as Truman Capote will walk away the winner. Which means that Terrence Howard (a wonder in the brilliant Hustle & Flow), Joaquin Phoenix (damn good, but the movie was just so-so) and David Strathairn (exceptionally good, but Good Night's smallness is working against him) will have to be content just clapping along with Ledger as Hoffman makes another acceptance speech. On the bright side, this means that 3 out of 4 of the awards in the top categories will go to a gay-themed project.

BEST ACTRESS: REESE WITHERSPOON

OK, let's talk the losers. Keira Knightley is luminescent in Pride & Prejudice, but at 20, she will have plenty of chances ahead of her. Apart from that, she's up against some powerhouse talent, namely Judi Dench (who, many have said, simply "phoned it in" for Mrs. Henderson Presents), Charlize Theron (who already won for her other ugly-woman role in Monster), and front-runners Felicity Huffman and Reese Witherspoon. Though Huffman deserves the award for not only her woman-as-a-man-becoming-a-woman tour de force in Transamerica but also for all the years this brilliant actress has been overlooked by TV and movies, I think that Witherspoon will be the lone major win for Walk the Line. Let's face it: she's American's Sweetheart (aka box office gold) right now, and the Academy just may feel compelled to make sure they hand out a statuette to at least one movie nominated in the major categories that was a bona-fide hit.

BEST SUPPORTING ACTOR: GEORGE CLOONEY

I have to say, I was very glad to see Jake Gyllenhaal recognized in this category. Though much of the acting praise for Brokeback has been heaped upon Heath Ledger, Gyllenhaal is really the glue that holds the movie together. His puppy-dog-in-love performance simply wreaks of vulnerability and ruffian charm, but I think he will be dismissed as just playing "second fiddle" to his co-star. That leaves Matt Dillon, Paul Giamatti, William Hurt and George Clooney. Though Dillon deserves major kudos for once again playing against type as the sadistic cop in Crash, he's not the type of actor that usually finds himself up for Oscar awards. And as unfair as this might be to say, I think that will work against him. He's Matt Dillon, the guy from Little Darlings and The Outsiders. Teen hunk getting older. I don't know that people take him that seriously. William Hurt, on the other hand, is an Oscar vet, having won for Kiss of the Spider Woman and been nominated two other times. But his work in A History of Violence amounts to just 10 minutes of screen time. Paul Giamatti has finally been recognized by the Academy, after having been shut out the last two years in a row. But this year, he'll just have to be happy that they thought of him at all. Which means that George Clooney, who actually put on lots of weight and got himself admitted to the hospital for his role in Syriana, will hopefully be keeping us in stitches with another hilarious acceptance speech. If he can top the one he gave at the Globes, I'd be all too happy.

BEST SUPPORTING ACTRESS: RACHEL WEISZ

This is one of the times where the phrase "Yeah, but she won the Golden Globe" comes in handy. I would love to see Michelle Williams awarded for her stunning, implosive performance as a wife wronged in Brokeback Mountain, but people may still hold Dawson's Creek against her. Amy Adams was a surprise nomination, and she gave a delightful performance, but Junebug was a difficult and loopy movie that not many people saw. Catherine Keener, I felt was just a little dull as Harper Lee in Capote, which brushed her aside far too often in favor of Hoffman. Frances McDormand was great (as always) in North Country, but I think that the role was actually too small, not to mention the fact that she was, um, mining familiar territory (a la Fargo), and I doubt she'll be awarded for doing so this time around. Which means that Rachel Weisz, who won the Globe for her turn as a daring activist in The Constant Gardener (and whose character's death ignited that film with much of its suspsene) will probably have another speech to deliver come Oscar night.

BEST ADAPTED SCREENPLAY: BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN

Quickly, b/cuz I'm starting to get tired of typing and I've got things to do: While The Constant Gardener and A History of Violence both broke free of the page-to-screen stereotypes that often plague adaptations of books, I don't see them as being weighty enough to snag this award. Munich was, in my opinion, simply too old-fashioned for today's times, and Capote was more of a character study than it was a truly great story. Which leaves Brokeback. And let's face it: Turning a 53-page novella into a powerhouse love story that clocks in at over 2 hours is the very definition of adaptation.

BEST ORIGINAL SCREEPLAY: CRASH

The Squid and the Whale: brilliant movie (I loved it), but far too small by Oscar standards. Good Night, And Good Luck: Apart from Ben Affleck and Matt Damon, how often do actors (in this case, George Clooney) win Oscar awards for writing? Match Point: Woody Allen's best in years, but the story is more like a BBC mystery than the feature film it was turned into (and, to me, it shows in the finished product). Syriana: Perhaps a bit too bogged down in politics. Which means that Paul Haggis' Crash, which works several storylines into one mammoth whole, should be the winner among this lot.

OTHER RACES:

BEST ART DIRECTION: MEMOIRS OF A GEISHA
Please, did you see how beautiful this movie looked?

BEST CINEMATOGRAPHY: BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN
Geisha is too easy a win. Besides, it's all costumes and art
direction for that one. Brokeback is the most luminously beautiful
of the bunch.

BEST FILM EDITING: CRASH
Sorry, gotta go with the one with the most storylines tied together.
I never once got lost during the film.

BEST ORIGINAL SCORE: MEMOIRS OF A GEISHA
Sure, I love the music in Brokeback, but John Williams is an Oscar
giant. With two nods this year, I think he'll score (har! har!) for
the authentic Geisha score.

BEST ORIGINAL SONG: "IN THE DEEP" FROM CRASH
I want Dolly Parton to win, and I loved "It's Hard Out Here for a
Pimp," but Eminem's win for "Lose It" from 8 Mile may have been a fluke for rap songs, and Parton's tune might be a bit too simplistic for the academy. In the Deep is the kind of emotionally rousing show-stopper of the bunch.

BEST VISUAL EFFECTS: KING KONG
As if there were any other choice.

BEST SOUND EDITING: KING KONG
Ditto.

BEST SOUND MIXING: KING KONG
Though Ray won in this category last year, I'm sticking with Kong
in a two-for-two win in the sound categories.

BEST COSTUME DESIGN: MEMOIRS OF A GEISHA
Charlie & the Chocolate Factory was a joy to look at, but Colleen
Atwood is already a winner (for Chicago), and Hollywood is a sucker
for Asian design, so I'm going with Geisha to, er, wear the pants in
this family of nominees.

BEST MAKEUP: CHRONICLES OF NARNIA
Cinderella Man doesn't stand a chance in this one. So it's
between Star Wars Episode 3: The Revenge of the Sith and The
Chronicles of Narnia. Though most are predicting that Narnia will
be the winner in this category, I would't be surprised if the Academy gave the the Lord of the Rings/"end of the trilogy" award to Sith.

BEST FOREIGN LANGUAGE FILM: TOTSI
It's the only one I know anything about. :)

BEST ANIMATED FEATURE: WALLACE & GROMIT: CURSE OF THE WERE-RABBIT
With 3 prior wins for their W&G shorts, expect Nick Park to snag a
fourth for their feature film debut. Besides, it was a true treat for
all.

BEST ANIMATED SHORT: 9
Some might think that Pixar will again dominate (for One Man Band),
but I'm thiking that 9 might take it for being the most interesting
of the bunch. A suspense yarn as a kids' tale? I'm down with that!

BEST DOCUMENTARY FEATURE: MARCH OF THE PENGUINS
When all else fails, go with the Box Office winner! :)

BEST DOCUMENTARY SHORT: GOD SLEEPS IN RWANDA
Some have predicted The Death of Kevin Carter to be the winner
here, but I must admit: I love the title of God Sleeps in Rwanda. I
mean, it just sounds like an Oscar winner, doesn't it? :)

BEST LIVE ACTION SHORT: AUSREISSER
It's German, it's pretty out there, and it's about a creepy kid. It's
got my vote.

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OK, folks, there you have it. My votes for this year's Oscar wins.
Coincidentally, they are very much in line with the predictions
in Entertainment Weekly this year. Hey, I think I might just be on
to something! :)