The Little Things

Director: John Lee Hancock
Starring: Denzel Washington, Rami Malek, Jared Leto, Chris Bauer, Michael Hyatt, Terry Kinney, Natalie Morales
Running Time: 128 min.
Rating: R

★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

For much of its running length, John Lee Hancock's crime thriller The Little Things seems as if it isn't going anywhere, before excitingly arriving at a last act that pretty much confirms it went nowhere. Set in the early '90's, it attempts to channel the spirit and aesthetic of period-specific thrillers like Se7en or Copycat, but eventually settles on what resembles a poor man's Zodiac. With a basic plot best described as "textbook movie murder" it lacks the hook of those two former efforts and while a gripping opening attempts to invoke that latter masterpiece, it rarely delivers on its early promise Moody, atmospheric, and anchored by three performances in search of better material, the film technically has a lot going for it, which only enhances the disappointment as the narrative plainly plays out. 

Before revealing itself as a dark, somewhat messy character study about a pair of mismatched detectives, the case(s) that monopolize the majority of the picture couldn't be any less involving. While it's possible we've just been so burned out by the proliferation of streaming true crime documentaries that any fictionalized account would fall short, this seems especially problematic by any standard. It's almost as if Hancock cherry picked the least intriguing elements of every murder that's occurred in the Los Angeles area during the 80's and 90's and  recycled it on screen. The Night Stalker is explicitly mentioned and will inevitably be the case to which this fictional one is compared, but the gruesome crime scenes here are a Cliffs Notes version of that, without any meaningful context or insight into the psychology behind it.

It's 1990 and Kern County deputy sheriff Joe "Deke" Deacon (Denzel Washington) is called into the L.A. Sheriff's Department to collect evidence when he encounters lead detective Jim Baxter (Rami Malek), who's spearheading an investigation into a string of new murders resembling the serial killings an obsessed Deacon couldn't solve when he held that position. After a rocky introduction, Jim asks Deacon to stick around and lend his expertise, initially unaware of the tumultuous circumstances that led to his departure from the department five years prior. 

When more victims are found and a female jogger is reported missing, a series of clues lead Deacon to creepy, eccentric repair store employee Albert Sparma (Jared Leto). As the similarties between his unsolved killings and this case pile up, so again do Deacon's obsessions and mental fragility, with the two detectives certain they've found their guy. Crime officionado Sparma knows it, tangling both in his twisted web and taunting them to make a move in hopes it will lead to their self-destruction. And given their obsession with exposing him, he just may end up being right.  

If detectives with wildly differing personalities teamed to investigate murders is a painfully familiar trope, it's still one that can be very effective when properly executed. If nothing else, the script goes all out with Washington's Deacon having been transferred, demoted, divorced, already suffered a major health crisis, and experiencing traumatic flashbacks due to a mystery event that's eventually revealed.  Just about the only thing he isn't is an alcoholic a day away from retirement, though we can't be completely sure. All of it seems carefully piled on to make him seem more interesting and sympathetic than he actually is, when it's essentially just another take on the many law enforcement roles Washington's played over the past decade plus. Take your pick. 

Washington's character may brings little new to the table, but at least Malek's initially presents itself as something different. His Jim Baxter comes across as the type of "emotional vampire" Bret Easton Ellis could have written about in 1990, giving off vibes vibes of a sociopathic predator rather than a detective. Our suspicion this has more to do with Malek's performance than the writing is confirmed when that's abandoned and he settles into a much more recognizable cop role when Deacon starts riding with him. Aside from some early tension, there's not a lot of push-pull in this relationship, as they rarely challenge each other in philosophies, morality or criminology in any way as they search for clues to nail this guy. 

The film's title, as the characters take great pains in repeatedly telling us, refers to the little details detectives have to look for that lead them to the perpetrator. You know, like where their car was serviced or what kind of sandwiched they had for lunch. Well, no kidding. Watching this, you can't help but be reminded of Netflix's great, now cancelled series, Mindhunter, which provided the deepest of dives into the minds of serial killers through the men who were investigating them. That and the aforementioned Night Stalker case both featured dueling partners, and while's there's a deliberate, occasionally successful attempt at capturing the mood of both, the screenplay just never gets there, instead coming closer to James Patterson's latest Alex Cross installment. 

From his introductory interrogation scene on, Jared Leto leaves a sinister imprint as the suspected killer, infusing the proceeedings with a dose of much needed intrigue and psychology, as the detectives not only attempt to prove he's behind this, but what exactly makes him tick. It's probably the closest the this gets to becoming what it strives for, but even as delightfully skeevy and off-kilter as Leto's performance is (complete with greasy hair and a middle-age paunch), I couldn't help but wish it existed in a film with better ideas of what to do with it. 

The finale heads in a truly exhilarating, even unexpected direction until you realize that it hinges on a major character letting his guard down in a way that stretches believability based upon what we know about him. It also doesn't really amount to all that much, aside from drawing unfavorable comparisons to the infinitely superior Se7en. Despite that, you can still appreciate the intention of presenting a kind of contagious obsession between homocide cops and their cases. The extent to which any of it clicks can be attributed to Washington and Malek's performances, as it's hard not to be impressed by these two top talents bouncing off each another, regardless of what they have to work with. Even more noteworthy is composer Thomas Newman's elgiac score, which is pretty much head and shoulders above any other aspect of the film and arguably nomination-worthy under better circumstances.

Having written one of my all-time favorites in Clint Eastwood's A Perfect World and recently directed the underrated The Founder, Hancock is one of the more reliable mainstream filmmakers around, but this isn't a genre he's ever dipped into. So while it at least gives me some joy to report this is about as well directed as can be from a lacking script, he also wrote it, which makes the results a bit tougher to stomach. The Little Things is almost shockingly derivative of so many other works of crime fiction that you almost expect to see a head in a box before the closing credits arrive. Even its ending, arguably the film's strongest stretch, is undone in hindsight by the fact that it makes the whole enterprise feel like a waste of time, sending us right back to where we started, waiting for something more important to reveal itself.   

The Founder

Director: John Lee Hancock
Starring: Michael Keaton, Nick Offerman, John Carroll Lynch, Linda Cardellini, Patrick Wilson, B.J. Novak, Laura Dern
Running Time: 115 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

When we first meet Ray Kroc, a failed traveling salesman in his early fifties from Illinois, he's peddling industrial milkshake mixers to uninterested restaurant owners. That is until he meets the McDonald brothers, the only two guys crazy enough to buy from him. What happens when Ray goes out to their San Bernadino, California diner in 1954 is not only one of the most memorable sequences in John Lee Hancock's The Founder and the story's catalyst, but a love letter to the power of creativity and amazement. If it was hard to grasp just how revolutionary the concept of McDonald's was at the time, Ray's reaction to getting his burger in 30 seconds in disposable wrapping as families enjoy their meals next to him, tells you all there is to know. You can see and feel exactly why he's so bowled over by it, and watching the scene, you'd be forgiven for thinking it's the greatest idea that ever was. At the time, and even today, there's a lot of truth in that. But an idea is just that until it becomes something more. Something bigger. Ray Kroc liked to think big and after years of hawking bad products, he knew a sure bet when he saw it. What he lacked in creativity he made up for ten times over in persistence and business savvy. A visionary who saw the limitless potential in someone else's concept, he ran with it in a way they couldn't, morality and consequences be damned.

At its core, The Founder really boils down to one question: At what point does an idea become so great that it needs to be shared with the world? And once it is, what's the cost? The answer to that casts a shadow over the film that completely reframes Ray's aforementioned visit to McDonald's Burgers in San Bernardino and his contagious enthusiasm. He was right to do whatever it took to push this through just as the McDonald brothers were in fighting to preserve the integrity of their creation every step of the way. And just as he was wrong to screw them out of what was rightfully theirs, an equally strong case can be made for their inflexibility and resistance to change. And yet the man we see at the end, as ethically compromised as he is, still strangely remains very much the same one we met at the beginning. That's the true genius in Michael Keaton's complicated, unfairly overlooked performance, which already seems destined to go down as one of the most underappreciated of his career.

The arrival of Ray Kroc (Keaton) at McDonald's Burgers represents for Dick (Nick Offerman) and Mac (John Carroll Lynch) and Mac McDonald to correct an opportunity they let slip through their fingers once before. An unsuccessful previous attempt to franchise out their revolutionary fast food burger joint was marred by the challenge of maintaining the same high level of customer service and food quality throughout the chain. Enter Kroc. The brothers are approached, and actually somewhat stalked, by the Prince Castle salesman who's so impressed with their unique business model emphasizing a speedy food delivery service that keeps costs down, he wants to hear their story. And it's a pretty amazing one, as they tell him how they started out in the movie industry before eventually landing in the food service business, which they thought was in serious need of some tweaking. Chalk diagrams on a tennis court provided the blueprints for what would become McDonald's kitchen, with each station serving a specific function in getting quality food to the customer as quickly as possible. No more waiting at drive-ins.

While Dick's heavily skeptical of Ray's interest from the onset, Mac's convinced they finally found the guy that understands their product and can help them fulfill their dreams of expansion. After appealing to their sense of patriotism, envisioning the golden arches side by side with American flags and church steeples across the nation, they reluctantly agree to a deal.  And while it initially does seem to be the perfect match for all involved and Ray makes some smart decisions, the brothers' traditional approach soon clashes with his towering ambition. Mortgaging his home while sacrificing his marriage to wife Ethel (Laura Dern), he continues expansion at a rapid rate, soon realizing this will never work unless he hires the right people and gets out from under the thumb of the brothers, who have him locked in a contract mandating them final say on any new idea he has. In order to succeed Ray will have to get creative, even if the morally questionable moves he makes in the name of business could forever taint his claim as the true "founder" of McDonald's.  

If Ray sees dollar signs the first time he lays eyes on the brothers' establishment, there's also a certain admiration and respect for what they created, as well as a desire to prove to everyone he isn't the failure they believe him to be by shepherding it to greater success. While he likes the brothers, he also knows they're gullible and not businessmen, which could explain why they were presumably taken for a ride in their last attempt to franchise. They need him just as much as he needs them if there's any desire in the brothers to build on their creation. And Ray isn't kidding himself on his own prospects either. He's at an age where this is clearly his last shot and he's already looked at as a joke by he and his wife's country club contemporaries, who can't wait to get in on the action when they realize his latest dream could actually bare financial fruit.

Ray's complete rejection of these rich, retired country clubbers' investment in this franchising when he recognizes their laziness and lack of commitment is probably his finest hour. Seeing him outside the restaurant on his hand and knees cleaning up the trash, more determined than ever to hire those who work and care about quality is the strongest case to be made for him as a decent human being. That, and his willingness to hire anyone from any walk of life (sometimes right off the street) he feels will do a good job is another feather in his cap. And yet Ray is also one of the worst candidates to accumulate such success and wealth at this rapid a rate because he's been beaten down so long. With a chip on his shoulder and something to prove, he's like a kid in a candy store when given just a taste of it. Not only does he roll over the McDonald brothers, he basically discards Ethel at the first sight of Joan (Linda Cardellini), the captivating wife of a franchisee (Patrick Wilson).

Despite knowing the terms when he signed, you could see how the brothers' dismissal of every one of Ray's ideas as crass commercialism or off-brand send him over the deep end. Ray definitely doesn't play fair and surely doesn't care, but while even his more Machiavellian methods could be defended as necessary to getting McDonald's where it needs to go, it doesn't explain the lack of credit or compensation for them once it gets there. He'd explain it away by saying it was business but you can't help but think back to Dick's statement that they "let a wolf in the hen house." Toward the third act of the picture it becomes clear that they may have actually franchised out their company and lives to someone whose business ethics are more closely aligned with Daniel Plainview's from There Will Be a Blood.

The casting of Keaton as Kroc is nothing short of a masterstroke. He's so inherently likable as a scrappy underdog that it could seem incomprehensible he'd take the actions he does later if not for the fact that this is an actor equally skilled at going to those darker, unlikable places. John Lee Hancock (director of The Blind Side and writer of 1993's A Perfect World) hasn't necessarily made a dark film here, but against the bright, nostalgic hue of 1950's America gorgeously photographed by cinematographer John Schwartzman and memorably scored by Carter Burwell, is this undercurrent of greed and avarice. Most of that is provided by Keaton, who has to simultaneously juggle multiple balls in the air playing someone who could have easily been categorized as one-note meglomaniacal businessman in the hands of a lesser performer. We don't sense your typical "transformation," because what happens is exactly what Ray wanted to have happen the second he saw McDonald's Burgers.

That gleam in Keaton's eye was there when he stepped on the lot and it's up to audiences to reconcile that with what comes later. While a specifically memorable shot in the film directly references a key moment in Citizen Kane and while it shares similar themes, a better comparison might be The Social Network, as a rejected outcast finally gets the opportunity to prove himself, hurting those around him on his way to the top. This is Keaton's movie, as it should completely be, but Nick Offerman really shines in his best big screen role to date as the doubting Dick McDonald, who ends up getting sucked into this anyway despite all his initial misgivings about how it could adversely affect his brother's health.

Released with such little promotion and fanfare that few knew it existed at all, it almost seems fitting that the studio behind The Founder is embroiled in a lawsuit over how mismanaged its release actually was, potentially costing Keaton another shot at an Oscar, this time for a performance that certainly would have otherwise gotten awards attention. Someone dropped the ball, which is a shame considering it's exactly the kind of film we need right now, and one of a select few this year that says as much about the times we live in now as the seemingly bygone era during which it took place. Hate or love Ray Kroc, there's no denying that what he did worked and had a serious effect on consumerism and branding all over the world, with its ripples still very much being felt today. How he did it should continue to be fodder for debate. You could say he drank the McDonald brothers' milkshake. And as an added insult, he used powdered milk.
                        

The Blind Side

Director: John Lee Hancock
Starring: Sandra Bullock, Quinton Aaron, Tim McGraw, Kathy Bates, Lily Collins, Jae Head, Ray McKinnon
Running Time: 128 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

When the 82nd annual Academy Award nominations were announced on February 2nd, there was an obvious eruption of giggles, gasps, and applause when the feel-good, audience pleasing sports drama The Blind Side was read among the expanded list of ten Best Picture contenders. And you'd really have to go way back in the Oscar history books to find a nomination in this category as shocking. It's been heralded as a major comeback vehicle for its star, Sandra Bullock, who's poised to take home the statue for Best Actress after making a string of career decisions so awful they'd make Kate Hudson jealous. In fact, they've been so bad that not too long ago I included her on my list of Actors/Actresses Who Need a New Agent (Badly!). In a way, I regret the negative connotation that article's title carried because in truth I really like all those talented performers, which could help explain why I'm so reasonably disappointed in them.

When I first saw that commercial for The Blind Side, with Bullock strutting across the football field in skin tight Erin Brockovich-style clothing and a blond wig, slapping the coach's butt (you can't say "ass" in this movie) and declaring in a laughable southern accent, "You can thank me later," I no longer thought she needed a new agent. I thought her career was over. But when the film was released something very weird happened: A project that at first glance looked to represent the absolute worst of Bullock's cinematic offerings somehow resonated deeply with moviegoers. With a marketing campaign aimed squarely at church going, red state Americans and extremely strong word-of-mouth (despite middling reviews) the film went on to gross over $200 million dollars to become the highest grossing sports drama of all-time. It's a statistic sure to irk fans of Rocky, Rudy and Hoosiers since this actually has very little to do with sports, or more specifically football, in any real sense. Consider it "Friday Night Lite."

The Academy's desire to reach out to the mainstream and increase viewership for the big show has brought this picture to where it is now. I've made many jokes at the film's expense over the past few months but they were all in good fun and never mean-spirited even as online attacks from others against it were growing increasingly venomous, I really do think it's fantastic that a personal human drama with a positive message is succeeding. And while you could argue it's continuing a recent trend in diminishing audience standards (true to an extent) and that they're just filling the Best Picture slot with a moneymaker (again true) I'd much rather it be this than junk like the latest Twilight or Transformers sequel. I can at least comprehend what the appeal is here.

The last time ten films were nominated for Best Picture was 1943, which is important to note since the most under-reported and bizarre detail about The Blind Side is how it wouldn't seem at all out of place as a nominee in that year. It's a throwback to a classic era when films were much simpler and the characters in them far kinder. It may be wimpy in its syrupy Hollywoodization of a social issue but it's gutsy in how sincerely honest and good-hearted it is about those intentions. To call it manipulative would be inaccurate because it's completely upfront and unapologetic about what it's trying to do and never takes itself too seriously. Labeling it a Lifetime or Hallmark movie of the week would also be inaccurate since even those usually contain some kind of dramatic conflict...or so I've heard. This doesn't.

What director John Lee Hancock accomplishes is actually an impressive feat because for over 2 hours he manages to sustain an entertaining movie that not only lacks conflict, but one where every character is happy and there are no problems in life. Laughable in theory, but difficult to execute on screen. Filming a story featuring only nice people doing the right thing and still have it be exciting isn't easy. He should be known as Norman Rockwell instead of John Hancock and entering the alternate trouble-free universe he creates requires the acceptance of a few basic principles. Everyone goes to church. No one curses. There is no crime. 9/11 never happened. People are either rich or poor. Black or white. Democrat or Republican. They either live in fancy homes or in the "bad side" of town. Life is simple. It's as if the events that occurred in the fictional 1950's sitcom setting of the film Pleasantville were played straight in an earnest drama without so much as a hint of irony. And the 'PG-13' rating this carries from the MPAA feels like a mistake since aside from a few isolated instances of very mild violence and language, this is essentially a 'G' rated picture. That's not surprising since Hancock's previous inspirational sports drama, the Disney produced The Rookie, was actually rated that.

Based on the true story of Baltimore Ravens offensive lineman, Michael Oher, the film was adapted from Michael Lewis' 2006 book, "The Blind Side: The Evolution of the Game," and that sub-title is excised for a reason. Anyone approaching this movie expecting to get any kind of insight into the technical aspects of the game of football should refer to the aforementioned scene of Bullock strutting across the field and listen to the strategic advice she gives if you want a good laugh. That, an opening that will enrage Redskins fans and the appearance of several former and current NCAA coaches, is the full extent of the football's presence in the film. What this story is really about is the bond between this mother and her adopted son, and on that level it succeeds, albeit in a traditionally simplistic way we're not used to.

Newcomer Quinton Aaron plays Oher (AKA "Big Mike"), who arrives off the street at the Wingate Christian School in Tennessee illiterate and a borderline mute. It isn't until he's taken in by feisty decorator Leigh Anne Tuohy (Bullock) and her husband Sean (Tim McGraw who's actually very good in this) that Mike begins to discover a love for football and family and turn his life around, transforming Leigh Ann's and her family's in the process. Yep, that's all there is to it. And there's hardly an obstacle in the way of him doing it besides him. It's very strange. These are the nicest, most tolerant people on Earth. I'd say they're the kind of people you could only see in a movie but that would be wrong because we don't even see them in movies anymore.

Without hesitance Leigh Anne takes this total stranger into her home. Her husband seems completely fine with the idea. Her precocious son, S.J. (Jae Head) flat-out loves it. But most bizarrely, her 18-year-old daughter, Collins (Lily Collins) isn't some rebellious teenager getting ready to use Mike's arrival as an excuse to lash out, but an understanding girl who befriends him. Those criticizing the film for this approach may want to decide whether they want this or the manufactured bush league screenwriting conflicts and contrivances we usually have to suffer through. The husband as an abusive alcoholic? The teenage daughter doing drugs and sleeping around? A shootout in the projects? The neighbors spray painting "the 'N' word" on the side of their car? How about "the big game?" This may also mark the first time conservative Republicans in a movie have been portrayed as anything other than gun-toting racists or corrupt government officials. They're just good, hard-working people and it may come as a surprise that even in movies it is possible for people like this to exist regardless of their political affiliation. It's funny the film has come under attack for making the opposite choices every picture in this genre is routinely blasted for.

More controversial is Hancock's idea of what constitutes conflict in this story because even the moments where he comes close to depicting it are undercut by the Utopian, danger-free atmosphere the characters inhabit. Even Leigh Anne's encounter with a gang member is just one huge set-up for a punch line that emphasizes the character's sassiness. Of course, we know if a woman dressed like that that really were to enter a neighborhood that dangerous the situation would have a far less desirable outcome, possibly threatening the film's G-rated PG-13. But why would we want to see that anyway? It's just not that kind of movie and going in that direction would have been completely inappropriate for the material.

When meeting Mike's crack addicted biological mother, the one confrontation you'd figure would be sure to set off fireworks, Hancock plays it surprisingly low-key and with little tension. Even she thinks what Leigh Ann's doing is admirable. Against all odds, the scene works anyway and somehow feels authentic in no small part due to Bullock. The only mild dissenters in the story are Leigh Ann's rich, white girlfriends who ironically question if she's harboring the same "white guilt" the film has been accused of pedaling. But entering this expecting any kind of serious examination of race relations is missing the point. This isn't trying to be Precious, a far different type of dramatic picture that beats you into submission with its harsh reality and emotionally raw performances.

This movie isn't pretending to be anymore than a feel-good fairy tale, but that doesn't make it racist or imply that black people need the help of whites to survive in society or something silly like that. To say that this has any serious agenda concerning race is giving it more credit than it deserves. The biggest stab at conflict comes late in the form of an NCAA scandal of sorts that brings the focus back to Mike calls into question the saintly family's motives as well as our own doubts that the film could possibly be as sweetly sincere as it is. Then enter Kathy Bates in a small role as Miss Sue, a tutor who shows up to help get Mike's grades up to graduation level.

As big a joke as it seems to many that this is an Oscar contender, there are three areas where you could reasonably argue it's deserving, two of which are the editing and musical score. The movie is nearly 130 minutes long and the time just flies by with everything going down as easy as children's cough medicine. That this is all just mainstream fluff is a factor in that but the film still has to be cut well and it's especially difficult to do that when there's so little happening dramatic fireworks. It's so effortless to sit through I'd actually watch it again, which is more than I can say for many depressing releases this year that were superior in quality. Carter Burwell's score perfectly matches the homey, down-to-Earth small town southern feel Hancock creates. It's the small touches like Leigh Anne calling the coach (Ray McKinnon) on her cell from the stands to scream at him during a game or Mike bench-pressing S.J. that help make the movie feel authentic without ever crossing that thin line separating it from maudlin sap.

It seems everyone's is happy for Sandra Bullock AS A PERSON, despite not being much of a fan of her work AS AN ACTRESS, and that goodwill should carry her to the Oscar whether or not the performance itself is deserving. I'll confess my appreciation of her talents peaked sometime in the mid '90's and have been in a steady decline since. The past decade or so she's really had it rough career-wise and that she'll likely be collecting a Razzie Award for Worst Actress (for All About Steve) the same year she could take home the Oscar indicates just how bad it's really been. But only over the past couple of months has it become painfully obvious just how much audiences like her and how badly they've wanted her to come back, grasping at every last straw to make that happen, even as her critics continue slamming her every step. She's someone viewers like spending two hours with even if they don't always agree with her choices.

What's most interesting about this role for her is just how much it resembles all the terrible parts she's played over the years and how it should have tanked like the rest of them. But this was the one questionable choice that somehow hit, and as shocking as it is to admit, that's largely because she does some of her best work. She's still dealing with problematic material but this is the first time she rises above it and shows up onscreen with more motivation and energy than we've seen in years. This isn't a deep or complex role, and the character she's playing is essentially a saint with just a tiny bit of an edge, but it cleverly plays to all of her strengths as a performer. Had the script been more dramatic I'm not too sure she'd be capable enough to go darker so it comes as a relief that she doesn't need to. There's just enough wiggle room that there's some of her own star personality mixed in there with this real-life woman and the combination proves to be really enjoyable, carrying the movie.

The comparison to Julia Roberts' Oscar-winning turn in Erin Brockovich a decade ago is right on the money in that both roles push the actress' looks and personalities to the forefront as part of the character rather than obscuring them like we're so used to seeing in these types of roles. Ironically, Roberts passed on the part before Bullock snatched it up and I'm not sure she could have done as well with it. In a stronger year you may have been be able to argue this performance isn't worthy of consideration, but still not having seen all the nominees, her inclusion, and even potential win, is far from the travesty it's been made out to be. To Sandra's credit, she at least comes off as someone who enjoys this and wants to do good work, but unfortunately hit a series of speed bumps along the way. I'd rather have someone like this be rewarded than, say, Eddie Murphy, who just enjoys cashing checks. While it's a great performance, she lucked out here and likely knows it. I hope moving forward she uses this success as a springboard to make more creatively fulfilling choices.

For a change, this film's nomination is actually important, not necessarily because it could represent the public's lowering standards over the past year (true to an extent), but because it really opens the floodgates in terms of what pictures and performances could potentially qualify as "Oscar worthy." You have to wonder if this policy of ten nominees were instituted a few years earlier whether similarly themed sports dramas like Remember the Titans or Miracle would have slipped in for Best Picture. Would Matthew McConaughey be preparing his acceptance speech for We Are Marshall? Unlikely (I hope), but you get the point. It's official: Now ANYONE or ANYTHING can win an Oscar. Let that scary thought sink in.

There's a lesson in what's happened with The Blind Side that might be more interesting than anything in the actual movie. Many critics (myself included) can get so caught up in analyzing the ins and outs of film that they sometimes lose touch with reality. That reality being that with the state the country's in right now audiences just aren't interested in seeing the same wrist-slitting movies that they are. Most just want to be entertained. They may not want to see obese, HIV positive teenagers physically and emotionally abused by their mothers, people getting fired, jumping off bridges, being dumped by their girlfriends or anything having to do with the Iraq war. And can you really blame them? When even a Pixar film features a traumatic death in the opening minutes and the most upbeat cinematic experience of the year is a Holocaust movie, it's no wonder audiences are burnt out and need to come up for air.

I can't exactly shower praise on the film with a straight face because it's just so goofy, but at least the intentions are sincere and it doesn't have the same inflated sense of self-importance as other award comntending films this year. Is it an atrocity that this was nominated in a strong year when clearly more deserving titles were passed over ? Of course, but at least it's a fun atrocity. A film with characters named "Miss Sue" and "Coach Cotton" doesn't exactly beg to be taken seriously as social commentary so it shouldn't be. Full of down home charm, The Blind Side is mindless, feel-good entertainment released at a time of year when sending viewers home happy is considered a criminal offense.