Steve Jobs

Director: Danny Boyle
Starring: Michael Fassbender, Kate Winslet, Seth Rogen, Jeff Daniels, Katherine Waterston, Michael Stuhlbarg, Perla Haney-Jardine, Ripley Sobo, Makenzie Moss, Sarah Snook, John Ortiz
Running Time: 122 min.
Rating: R

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)  

During one scene in Danny Boyle's extraordinary Steve Jobs, Jobs gets into it again with Apple Computer co-founder and old friend Steve Wozniak just as he's about to reveal his new iMac to the world. As this shouting match ensues, centered around Jobs' adamant refusal to publicly or privately credit anyone other than himself, you can't help but notice a small group of young Apple employees uncomfortably looking on. They're trapped in the auditorium as these two go at each other, baring witness to twenty years of dirty laundry being aired at the worst possible time. Then you just try to imagine being one of those cringing employees in that room when this happened. Did it really happen? And if it did, how would you tell people what went down. Would anyone even believe you?

There are many such moments in the film and just as many conversations, arguments, speeches and quick witted dialogue exchanges. While loosely based on Walter Isaacson's best-selling biography, this is still an Aaron Sorkin script after all, and in case you haven't heard, Steve Jobs wasn't such a great guy. But not in the same sense that the Mark Zuckerberg character wasn't in The Social Network. He was emotionally shut off and severed important relationships to build his technology empire, but as much of that story was successfully exaggerated and even sometimes fabricated by Sorkin, there was always this fleeting glimpse of humanity in there. The final scene served as a messed up, but poignant reminder that Zuckerberg, in his own mind, did it all for a girl. At one point during this, Jobs is asked, "What's your excuse?" and it's a real treat spending all of the film's enthralling 122 minute running time trying to discover it.

Had Jobs lived to see this, he'd probably appreciate its narrative tidiness, which not only tells us everything we need to know and some things we maybe wish we didn't, but does so with laser-like precision. It focuses only on the hours preceding three product launches: The Macintosh in 1984, NeXT in 1988 and the iMac in 1998. It's a testament to how tight Sorkin's script is that anything earlier, later, or in between, isn't missed, or in most cases, is covered anyway in the conversations and confrontations taking place before he takes the stage.

Only two scenes take place outside, flashbacks are used sparingly, and yet, it never once feels like a talky stage play. If anything, it's an action movie that uses it words as weapons, the story flying by at a breakneck pace, with Boyle using a myriad of visual flourishes to make each time period look and feel different.  He brings a non-stop energy to the proceedings that stands in stark contrast from the clinical style David Fincher (who was originally attached to direct) would have likely brought to an already icy story. But for Boyle, it's the highest imaginable compliment that we're not left wondering what could have been. No matter confined and contained the setting, it always feels like the story's moving. In hindsight, he actually ended up being the ideal choice for the material.

If the ingenious structure tightens the noose on the story and its characters then it also turns the microscope on Fassbender's performance, in which every expression, line delivery and physical action seems far more important than it otherwise would. When we first see Fassbender as Jobs in 1984, it's amazing is just how little he looks like him, and then how quickly he makes us forget by so convincingly playing such a colossal asshole. Once he busts out of the gates swinging, it's clear we're in for a wild ride. An obsessed control freak who threatens and berates employees, he never admits failure or accepts blame, even when on more than a few occasions, he completely should.  And nothing represents that failure more than him cruelly denying paternity of ex-girlfriend Chrisann Brennan's (Katherine Waterston) daughter Lisa (played at different ages by Makenzie Moss, Ripley Sobo and Perla Haney-Jardine), both to their faces and in the press.

While Sorkin's script goes a certain distance in acknowledging Chrisann isn't perfect and won't soon be competing for "mother of the year," Jobs' behavior in the opening '84 section of the film still comes off as nothing less than reprehensible. And yet, the few fleeting moments he shares with the daughter he believes (or at least says) isn't his show that he's capable of being a good father only when Lisa's connecting with him at his level. That is to say on a Macintosh. For all his flaws, he at least recognizes that it would be criminal not to foster this obviously gifted girl's creativity and intelligence, causing him to open up his wallet, regardless of how much he resents her mother. We learn that education is apparently the window into Jobs' soul, or at least for most of the film, that empty void where his soul's supposed to be.

It wouldn't exactly be accurate to say Jobs' treatment of anyone necessarily "improves" throughout the course of time covered here so much as his temperament ebbs and flows unexpectedly, with Fassbender impressively sliding in and out of jerk mode on what seems like a whim. Jobs is a volatile character and he captures that, sometimes offering even the littlest tease that this guy's turned a corner or had an actual moment of self-awareness, only to slip right back into another scary meltdown.

Physically, Fassbender's resemblance to Jobs is about on par with Anthony Hopkins or Frank Langella's to Nixon, but what's strange is when we enter the infamous jeans and sneaker phase, he somehow begins looking EXACTLY like him.The complete immersion has set in, and while it's true that original choice Christian Bale would seem on paper to be the perfect choice, it's hard to envision him surpassing Fassbender's total immersion into the public idea of who Jobs is, which never approaches  imitation of any sort. He's a complicated, contradictory figure and despite two actors attempting this before him, there's still no blueprint for it, making what he accomplishes all the more remarkable.

Supporting players and events that were skimmed over, cliff notes-style, in 2013's Ashton Kutcher-starring Jobs (which took a more traditional biographical route), 1999's TNT film, The Pirates of Silicon Valley, or even in this year's acclaimed Alex Gibney documentary, Steve Jobs: The Man in the Machine, are explored in far greater detail here. More accurately, it makes everything that came before it seem like a cartoon, lacking in depth or a singular vision. Regardless of how much is confirmed to have actually happened, there is this sense (prevalent in most of Sorkin's work) that we're eavesdropping on certain conversations and incriminating backstage shenanigans that weren't intended for public consumption.

Besides pulling the curtain back on Job's dysfunctional family relationships, almost as much time is spent digging into the circumstances that led to the ousting from his own company by CEO and former Pepsi chairman, John Sculley (Jeff Daniels). Previously depicted as the out-of-touch figurehead who fired Steve Jobs in just about every version of this story put on film or in print, Sorkin's script presents an entirely different take. Played by Daniels as a wise sage with some genuine insights into both the marketing of Apple computers and its co-creator's psyche, it wouldn't a stretch to call him a father figure to Steve and the only person who understands what makes him tick.

His experience on the Newsroom making him no stranger to rattling off Sorkin's rapid-fire dialogue, Daniels elicits sympathy for Sculley and his dilemma, making us wonder if we wouldn't take the same actions if put in his shoes, contending daily with an unpredictable, insubordinate Jobs. Just the very idea of a meglomaniac like him answering to a Board of Directors is a recipe for disaster. While his ousting was the first time he ever seemed to take something personally, Sorkin squashes any notion  he was somehow humbled by this or even the subsequent failure of his own competing NeXT venture. Instead, Jobs' return to Apple is depicted as the latest frightening chapter detailing his unhealthy obsession with proving himself.

As uncompromisingly as Jobs is portrayed, there's still this undercurrent that he really did something right to have inspired such loyalty in those he frequently mistreated over the years. It comes to a point where you have to wonder whether they're just asking for it, constantly coming back for more, even long after he seems to have outgrown his use for them, and they for him. Seth Rogen plays Woz as Seth Rogen playing Woz, and for this film's mission, that actually works quite well. He's a likable schlub whose request for acknowledgment of the Apple II team's contributions by Jobs spans over a decade and falls on deaf ears. The practical engineer to Jobs' big picture designer, this was a partnership always destined to crumble, as flashbacks to the garage show us.

Original Mac team member Andy Hertzfeld (Michael Stuhlbarg) is yet another victim of that tyranny, but handles it better than just about anyone, even managing to completely turn the tables on him at one point. But it's Kate Winslet's Joanna Hoffman as Job's right-hand woman and marketing executive through the years who serves as the rock of the film. The only person capable of standing up to him and winning, she's the constant presence guiding Steve in the right direction by reigning him in and cooling him off. Whenever his raging ego careens out of control to continuously threaten everything he's created, she's there to talk him off the cliff.

The character of Joanna is so strong, and Winslet's work so economical and invisibly efficient in every scene, that by the end you're convinced she's as much responsible for his success as the man himself, by simply refusing to let him self-destruct. But even she has her limits, justifiably sickened by the one thing she can't fix on her own: His relationship with his daughter. She can push but it's up to him to do the rest. Although the last scene comes closest, there's no epiphany of eureka moment where Steve Jobs suddenly becomes a heartfelt guy or great father. Rather, there's this sense the needle maybe moved just enough, his failures making him slightly more open as a person than the monster we met in the opening scenes. That's why what Fassbender pulls off is something akin to a highwire act without a net, capturing the mercurial behavior of someone you'd find impossible to like or admire, yet still begrudgingly feel forced to respect.

Jobs has his loyal followers and gets the desired results, presenting the question of whether the same qualities that define his moral failure as a human being also qualify him as an effective leader. We're left trying to reconcile the fact that this forward-thinking genius who bettered so many lives could have also been a deadbeat dad and raging egomaniac. Do the ends justify the means? It turns out what little love he had was poured into his machines, leaving very little to the one person most deserving. His biggest design flaw may have been himself, but we were lucky enough to reap the benefits. Much like The Social Network, Steve Jobs is a perfect film, not for what it says, but how, utilizing an exciting structure to thematically capture one of the most contradictory figures of our time.
          

Labor Day

Director: Jason Reitman
Starring: Kate Winslet, Josh Brolin, Gattlin Griffith, Tobey Maguire, Dylan Minnette, Clark Gregg, Brooke Smith, James Van Der Beek, JK Simmons, Alexie Gilmore, Brighid Fleming
Running Time: 111 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★ (out of ★★★★) 

There are two scenes in Jason Reitman's stab at an Oscar-friendly period piece, Labor Day, that had me howling with laughter. No, it's not the infamous peach pie scene, in which Josh Brolin's escaped convict romantically teaches Kate Winslet's single mom how to make a peach pie. It's ridiculous for sure, but what  beats it is a long soliloquy from a manipulative teen girl that's one of the more hysterically out of place and overwritten speeches in recent cinematic memory. To say dialogue like this wouldn't come from the mouth of a girl that age isn't even doing it justice. It wouldn't come out of the mouth of any human being on the planet. Even in 1987. The boy listening to it has this dumbfounded look on his face the whole time and who can blame him? He'll later have a dream about her that's the second most ridiculous scene in the film and an embarrassingly bizarre depiction of an adolescent's first stirrings of sexuality.

Give Reitman credit for going way out of his comfort zone in adapting a Joyce Maynard novel, even if it's a place I hope he never goes again. And that's coming from someone who thought his last film, Young Adult, qualified as a darkly comic masterpiece. Apparently, enough people disagreed for him to attempt this mishmash of tones, which starts promisingly as a lurid crime drama before evolving slowly and painfully into what feels like a lightweight Nicholas Sparks adaptation. While featuring a pair of strong performances, it contains holes in logic large enough to drive a truck through, which is odd considering just how dull and formulaic the story ends up being. If this came from any other director it would probably be considered a decent if middling effort, but from a talent like Reitman, it's an unwelcome departure and an even bigger disappointment. If nothing else, we should at least give him credit for admitting it. The faster he puts this behind him, the better.

Adele Wheeler (Winslet) is a depressed single mom raising her 13-year-old son Henry (Gattlin Griffith) in a Boston suburb in 1987. After husband Gerald (Clark Gregg) left her for his secretary, it been difficult for Adele to even leave house, with young Henry stepping up to assume the responsibilities of the household. As luck would have it, the one time a month the agoraphobic Adele can bring herself to the store, bloodied fugitive and convicted murderer Frank Chambers (Brolin) takes her and Henry hostage, formulating a plan to evade police while hiding out in their home. But he gets a little too comfortable, and so do they, with Frank becoming a sort of surrogate father to Henry and the husband Adele wishes she always had. After a while, the word "hostages" hardly applies as the stoic fugitive warms up to the idea of a new family even as he's haunted by a troubled past. But police are closing in, forcing him to decide whether his freedom is worth the potential  harm that can come to this woman and her son.

The story is narrated by an adult Henry (a miscast Tobey Maguire) and is in a way presented as a coming-of-age tale centered around his journey and memories of that Labor Day weekend in 1987. Ultimately though, that portion is where the film falls shortest, taking a backseat to the dopey romance. At the risk of dating myself, there's little in the film that gives us any real sense it's taking place in 1987, or was part of anyone's childhood, save for maybe the period cars. There's also little in the way of establishing the setting which we're lead to infer is a Massachusetts suburb primarily because of Frank's Red Sox cap and little else. After the standoff start one would expect from a fugitive taking hostages, he settles into the role of cook, handyman, electrician, dance instructor, husband and father. For Henry he's a more than suitable replacement for the dad who walked out on him while Adele's sees as a potential lover rather than a dangerous criminal almost right from the start.

Many of the film's problems stem from Frank being such a great guy that there's basically no conflict at all, aside from some really nosy neighbors. Everyone in town is bothering this kid about his mom, and not of out concern for her mental health, but because they're annoying and invasive. A supermarket clerk cross examines him about his items. Townsfolk show up at their door unannounced, and in some cases, even walk right in. And yet, Frank's been cleaning gutters and fixing cars in broad daylight without anyone noticing. Ironically enough, the one time everyone should have known something was up was when Adele and Henry are first abducted at the store, and none too subtly either. You couldn't imagine two more obviously petrified people not wearing shirts that read "HOSTAGES." But there is one rewarding sequence involving the unexpected visit of a handicapped child that does create some genuine tension and suspense with Frank's identity threatened to be accidentally revealed in a surprising manner.

Interspersed with the present-day action are flashbacks to Frank's past and the murder that landed him in prison. These sequences work and are some of the more visually impressive, but we know from the start Frank is no coldblooded killer, so while the scenes are engaging, nothing about them feel revelatory. Winslet and Brolin are fine in their roles, with Brolin the clear standout. But you could probably name half a dozen or more of their performances that are better, if only because the material was. Gattlin Griffith is strong too, except when he's dragged down in scenes with the aforementioned girl (played by Brighid Fleming), which force him to react to the unreactable.

Everything completely collapses in the third act when a character figures out information they couldn't possibly know and what started as a fugitive on the run story recalling A Perfect World or The Fugitive deteriorates into The Notebook. James Van Der Beek appears as a cop, and maybe the only smart character. Too bad even he's wasted when we realize Reitman was more interested in settling into a weepie love story. Maynard's source material is just too stilted and reserved for a filmmaker of his type. He needs that contemporary humor and a satiric edge to really excel. Here, he's handcuffed, dishing out a traditional period piece as is, without the benefit of being able to explore. Labor Day starts as something important with accelerating tension but by the end it's almost completely neutered, fizzling out as it approaches its final lap. It's one of those movies that seem enjoyable enough while you're watching only to discover afterward just how much better it could have been.            
       

Revolutionary Road

Director: Sam Mendes
Starring: Leonardo DiCaprio, Kate Winslet, Michael Shannon, Kathy Bates, David Harbour, Kathryn Hahn, Dylan Baker
Running Time: 118 min.
Rating: R

★★★ 1/2 (out of ★★★★)

There's nothing worse than waking up and discovering you've turned into your parents. If you have, you consider yourself a failure while the rest of society thinks you're a success. If you haven't, you consider yourself a success while the rest of society labels you a failure. Chalk it up as a no-win. That's the dilemma facing Frank Wheeler (Leonardo DiCaprio) in Sam Mendes' trying but almost brilliant Revolutionary Road. Adapted from Richard Yates' acclaimed 1961 novel it does the unthinkable in actually bringing a different take to not only my absolute favorite genre of film, but one that's admittedly been explored to death. Just not from an angle like this.

For once we're presented with characters who are fully aware of the suburban hell they've trapped themselves in and are clawing and fighting to escape. But the harder they fight, the deeper they sink. Mendes skips the formalities with only a single scene depicting the first encounter between Frank and his future wife, April (Kate Winslet). They meet at a cocktail party and hit it off. He made her laugh. There isn't much laughing after that as minutes later we flash forward a few years and they're at each others throats. That trend continues throughout the duration of the picture, nearly suffocating us with their emotional intensity and marital discord.

Frank works in marketing at Knox Business Machines, following in the footsteps of his late father who was employed there for twenty years. He despises it. In an unforgettable shot we see him blend in amidst a sea of flannel suits and bowler hats in New York's bustling Grand Central Station. Everyone looks the same. Scratch that. They are the same. He celebrates his thirtieth birthday by sleeping with a young secretary whose primary appeal to him is that she's the only woman around naively impressed by anything he does. Frank and April, along with their two kids, have just moved into their new home on Revolutionary Road, located in a very wealthy Connecticut suburb because that's "just what you do."

While on the surface their lives resemble a Norman Rockwell painting, it's all a put-on. April comes up with a crazy idea for Frank to just quit his job so they can move to Paris where she'll support him with a high-paying government secretarial position while he gathers time to decide what he wants to do with the rest of his life. Their plan is pretty revolutionary for a time when society's expectations of gender roles in a marriage are very clearly defined. Equally important is keeping up with the Jones,' or rather the Campbells (David Harbour and Kathryn Hahn), who are sent into a tailspin by the Wheeler's news, causing them to examine issues they'd rather leave alone. The Paris move is set into motion until things are heavily complicated by a surprise pregnancy and a golden opportunity presented to Frank at work. That, and a visit from an unwelcome houseguest, causes their already shaky marriage to devastatingly fracture.

The 1950's have taken a beating in cinema as the decade of boredom, conformity and repression, leading us to ask: "Was it really THAT bad?" But the truth is that this film could have taken place during any decade and still have rang just as true. When the middling box office returns came in for this it wasn't exactly a surprise audiences weren't in the mood to hear or see a wealthy suburban couple whine and complain about their lives as we struggle through an economic recession. There's the temptation to avoid any movie that could possibly remind us of life's very problems, especially if it features characters this realistic...or even worse, "UNLIKABLE." As someone who feels Hollywood's been spoon feeding us false optimism in the past year it was a relief to see a film at least try to tackle serious life issues head-on and ask important, socially relevant questions.

You very often hear people these days utter the phrase "I'm lucky just to have a job." So true, but have you noticed it mostly seems to be uttered by people who hate their jobs? As if they feel guilty and are saying it to motivate themselves to keep going. That's Frank Wheeler. Similarly, when a woman is pregnant our first inclination is always to congratulate them but have you ever thought why? There's a tremendous amount of financial and emotional stress that comes with raising a child and some people just aren't built for it because they're too selfish or irresponsible. Maybe they're only having children because their biological clocks are ticking or all their friends are. April Wheeler falls into both categories. But what makes this couple differ from other spoiled characters who have populated cinema's suburban hell through the decades is that they know (or think they know) what's happening and are desperate to escape, completely unaware that changing everything around them won't necessarily do that.

Paris isn't a pipe dream, but April's IDEA of what moving there will do for them just might be. They come up with all the right questions but answer them all wrong by trying to alter every external detail in their lives without first working on themselves or their relationship, although any marriage that would require this much work might not be worth salvaging to begin with. This leads to the question of how much work should a marriage should take before throwing in the towel.  Unfortunately, doing that just wasn't a viable option for couples during this era. Divorce would have been even more frowned upon than just picking up and moving to Paris. When the Wheelers' gregarious Realtor friend Helen Givings (played to perfection by the great Kathy Bates) decides it would be a good experience for her mentally unstable son John (Michael Shannon), to meet the young couple I cringed, but hearing about Shannon's Oscar nominated supporting performance couldn't have really prepared me.

Shannon's John acts as kind of a bridge between the two halves of the film, popping in to call Frank and April out on their hypocrisy. A former mathematician on leave from the psychiatric hospital, he's ironically the only character who truly understands the problem and isn't afraid to say so...bluntly. When he feels betrayed by the Wheelers, he pushes them to their breaking point, leading to an electrifying confrontation that rivals the deli scene in The Wrestler as the scariest and most uncomfortable few minutes committed to film in 2008. Shannon occupies only minutes of screen time, but he's like a tornado ripping through the picture, leaving a wreckage of distress and shock that stays with the couple (and viewers) long after he departs. There's definitely no shame losing the Best Supporting Actor Oscar to Heath Ledger but the irony there is that Shannon basically comes in and plays his own twisted version of the Joker for two huge scenes. The similarities are eerie.

There's little point arguing whether Kate Winslet's Oscar winning performance in The Reader was more or less deserving of the statue than her work here. They're two completely different parts that call for entirely different performances, the former obviously being the flashier, more Academy-skewing role. It isn't difficult to see why they nominated her for that instead. Both are deserving, but I prefer her more understated, no less challenging turn here, which wouldn't have been possible without DiCaprio, who equals her in every way.

Winslet may be given more notes to hit but DiCaprio is even more impressive, inhabiting a man at war with himself, resentful of society's expectations of him, but too afraid to do anything about it. So he takes it out on his wife. For years DiCaprio has very deliberately made more mature choices as an actor but because of his youthful appearance it's been an uphill climb. None of that is due to of a lack of talent since he's given great performances each time out (with his work in The Departed and The Aviator topping the list), but rather a certain preconceived bias from audiences that he's "too young" for these types of roles. No one can say that about this, his most mature, fully realized performance. He becomes Frank Wheeler in 1950's suburban Connecticut. Just watch his face in the the scene when he returns home to find April and his kids surprising him for his birthday.

Fans of Titanic who waited over a decade to see the re-teaming of Kate and Leo will probably want to hang themselves by the time the final credits roll. This is not an epic romance, or even a romance at all. Despite the fact it was misleadingly marketed as Titanic 2, there isn't a single romantic element in it. It's closer to a horror movie. Think Pleasantville meets Rosemary's Baby with a side helping of Mad Men thrown in for good measure. I'm convinced the hate-filled scenes the two actors share wouldn't have been possible if they weren't really close friends (which they supposedly are) and a very high comfort level must have been there for them to go at each other like they do.

Director Sam Mendes explored this kind of material before with 1999's Best picture winner, American Beauty, but he isn't just repeating himself. This is a far different film, set in a different era and Justin Haythe's screenplay doesn't feel quite as calculated. That's not a knock on Beauty but rather an indictment that the two share anything other than the exploration of a crumbling marriage in the suburbs. Strangely enough, it also doesn't remind me of the most recent flag bearer for this type of movie, Todd Field's Little Children, even though they share an actress in Winslet and Field was originally attached to this project. That film seemed to have a more satirical slant and bite that this lacks, making the two different enough that this film doesn't suffer that greatly in comparison.

Technically, it's a flawless motion picture. There isn't a single wasted shot or moment. The best cinematographer working today, Roger Deakins, tops himself again by bringing the '50's to vivid life with dreamlike precision while the production and costume design is so authentic its frightening. Thomas Newman's subtle piano score comfortably fits the film like a glove. Even the film's most biggest detractors would have to concede it's a top notch production and better put together than any other recent adult drama. I'm curious if it'll hold up moving forward or go the way of just about every other supposedly great film of 2008 and lose its power on repeated viewings. It does seem like the kind of picture you respect and admire in terms of craftsmanship, but can't love because it keeps you at arm's length. We'll just have to see how time treats it and whether, like the similarly themed The Ice Storm, it experiences a critical resurgence down the line.

I understand why this movie failed commercially but am still in complete disbelief that it wasn't better received by critics or the Academy. It would seem tailor-made for them except for the fact that they made up their minds this past year that they'd rather not be challenged or pushed by mainstream entertainment. This isn't easy to watch and full appreciation requires almost full surrender into a state of total despair. Not an easy thing to do. You have to be a hardcore cynic or have a generally pessimistic view of human nature to enjoy it, and even then, I'm not sure the word "enjoy" applies. If you didn't like it, you should probably be relieved. That my favorite genre of film usually features characters who emotionally hurt one another scares me to no end, but it doesn't depress me. What really depressing is when movies insult our intelligence by chickening out.

When the film ended though I wasn't left with the feeling of hopelessness you'd expect after sitting through what's essentially less a movie than an ordeal. That's because of one well-placed, superbly performed scene before the finale hinting that maybe Frank and April finally "got it." Maybe the key for them was finding a healthy balance somewhere between the hope and despair and, at least for a brief, passing moment, they did. It may make everyone feel better about themselves to classify these these people as unlikable but the reality is more complicated. Take away the suburban setting. Place it in another decade. It doesn't really matter. The problems are universal, the story is timeless. Revolutionary Road offers up a new reason why we shouldn't turn into our parents: They may have been even more screwed up than us.

Burning Questions From The Academy Awards

Wow, they weren't kidding about changing the feel of the show were they?

Can Hugh Jackman consider it a success if the telecast runs longer than Viva Loughlin but shorter than Australia?

Not a question, but a statement: "It's Miley!"

No offense meant to him at all but when you see Judd Apatow with Leslie Mann do you think to yourself, "How did he get HER?"

And shouldn't that be inspiring to normal, funny guys everywhere?

Am I wrong to worry about his next film mixing even more dramatic elements (dying!) with the laughs?

How about the new set?

I know they were going for a more intimate feel but didn't that theater look a little crammed?

Were you worried Jackman wasn't joking when he said he was contractually obligated to mention Brad and Angelina during the show?

How hard must it have been to come up with a musical number for Frost/Nixon?

Isn't Anne Hathaway a good sport?

And who knew she was such a great singer?

But were you thinking that could be the only time she'd see the stage all night?

Did Jackman actually sing that he was going to "Frost your Nixon?"

Aren't you excited about Nicolas Cage's new thriller, Knowing (insert sounds of crickets chirping)?

Shouldn't they have just called it Next 2?

Wasn't it a great idea to have previous Oscar winners present the acting categories?

Didn't it seem like less of a good idea when you realized it would extend the show an extra 12 hours?

Whoopie Goldberg won an Oscar?

Can we have that back please?

After Penelope won did you throw all hope out the window that it would be a "night of upsets?"

Once again, how exactly is Milk an "original" screenplay?

And didn't Dustin Lance Black's speech further confirm that it's just a message movie?

Did you know how the night would go once Slumdog won best Adapted Screenplay?

Who would have guessed the camera would pan to Brad and Angelina when Aniston was presenting?

Will the media ever let that go?

Doesn't it seem like WALL-E should be winning or at least nominated for more than just Best Animated Feature?

Especially in a year like THIS?

Was that the sound of Ben Lyons screaming giddily when Benjamin Button won Best Make-Up and Art Direction?

Speaking of Lyons screaming giddily, isn't Robert Pattinson kind of scary looking?

Is Joaquin Phoenix gonna kick Stiller's ass now or what?

In just a couple of years Phoenix goes from Oscar contender to punchline?

Does a major hottie always get to host the sci-tech awards?

And are they already lining Megan Fox up for next year?

How great was it to see Pineapple Express acknowledged (at least in some way)?

Did Seth Rogen lose some weight or what?

Have you ever seen so many musical numbers?

And now that musicals are back, is it okay if they go away for a little while again?

If they had to be on the show, weren't Zac Efron and Vanessa Hudgens at least incorporated into it in the most painless, least offensive way possible?

If someone where to beat Ledger could they at least take comfort in the fact that they'd still be a more deserving winner than Cuba Gooding Jr.?

Did Cuba had to clear his busy schedule for this?

Are we human or are we dancer? (not related to show, just felt like asking)

Didn't Kevin Kline's intro perfectly encapsulate what made Ledger's performance in The Dark Knight so special?

And how awesome was it that he referenced the memorable scene with the Joker sticking his head out the car window?

Did Michael Bay edit that action movie montage?

Who's idea was it to include Indiana Jones and The Kingdom of the Crystal Skull in a montage celebrating achievements in special effects?

Were you hoping Christian Bale and Shane Hurlbut would present the Cinematography Oscar?

Wasn't that Jimmy Kimmel commercial with Tom Cruise hilarious?

Didn't the commercial breaks seem much shorter this year?

As the night progressed could The Dark Knight Best Picture and Director snubs have been more painfully obvious?

Didn't Jerry Lewis look pretty damn good considering every other week there seem to be rumors that he's dying?

Didn't it seem like Jim Carrey should have been presenting that award instead of Eddie Murphy?

Was it me or was John Legend really struggling through that song?

And considering how little time the Best Song nominees were given, didn't Peter Gabriel kind of have point not wanting to perform?

Were you hoping M.I.A. would show up?

So, should A.H. Rahman mail or hand deliver that Oscar to Bruce in Asbury Park?

Was it me or did Queen Latifah singing through the death montage not come off as tasteless as you thought it would?

Was there any doubt Paul Newman would rank highest on the applause-o-meter?

Even after Indy 4 is Spielberg still the most inspired choice to present Best Director?

After seeing Danny Boyle's reaction to his win did it make you forgive and forget all the Slumdog overexposure this past month?

Didn't the five previous winners presenting Best Actress give the moment a more personalized, less scripted feel?

And didn't Shirley MacLaine not only come across as sincere, but like she actually saw and respected Hathaway's performance?

Or is MacLaine a much better actress than we've given her credit for?

Wasn't this method a clever way to showcase (stroke the egos of) the presenters as well as the winners?

Can you believe that group that was up there?

Did you remember that Marion Cotillard won the Oscar last year?

And how about all the English she's learned since then?

Kate Winslet couldn't have possibly been surprised...right?

Wasn't De Niro's comment about Penn playing straight the line of the night?

Was anyone except Penn, his wife and Gus Van Sant NOT pulling for Mickey?

And if he hadn't mentioned him in the speech would there have been a riot?

Has Penn ever given a more eloquent speech in his life?

Didn't the Best Picture montage unintentionally highlight how much better the older films were?

Maybe just a little bit of a stretch juxtaposing Frost/Nixon with Citizen Kane?

Did you cringe thinking what Best Picture winners could possibly be interspersed with The Reader?

Were your worst fears realized when it ended up being The Graduate, American Beauty and Schindler's List?

Didn't that feel really awkward?

And does that give even more ammunition to haters of The Reader?

But didn't Frost/Nixon and Benjamin Button come off looking the best next to those classic films?

And is that a telling sign?

If Boyle winning didn't do it, when you saw those kids up there accepting the Best Picture Oscar did you then forgive and forget all the Slumdog overexposure this past month?

Am I thrilled that I nailed 20 out of 24 categories in my predictions?

Isn't it hilarious that despite all the changes the show still clocked in at 3 1/2 hours?

But didn't it at least FEEL shorter?

And couldn't you just not wait to flip over and hear Ben Lyons' analysis of the show?

Is Hugh Jackman the only host in recent years who didn't look nervous and actually seemed to be enjoying himself?

Wouldn't they be crazy not to ask him back next year?

Why did we even have comedians hosting it?

How many of those upcoming 2009 releases do you think will actually be competing for Oscars next year?

Remember this time last year when everyone thought Hamlet 2 would be the film to beat at this year's ceremony?

Didn't just that brief clip of Tarantino's Inglorious Basterds look pretty sick?

Did you crack up at their inclusion of Terminator Salvation?

Given who's in it, is it okay if I just go ahead and declare 500 Days of Summer my favorite film of 2009 already?

Shouldn't the producers get major props for actually changing things up and delivering a somewhat exciting show?

And can't you see it increasing interest in the films (well, one at least)?

The Reader

Director: Stephen Daldry
Starring: Kate Winslet, Ralph Fiennes, David Kross, Lena Olin
Running Time: 124 min.
Rating: R

*** ½ (out of ****)

SPOILER WARNING! THE FOLLOWING REVIEW REVEALS KEY DETAILS OF THE FILM'S PLOT

Jaws dropped on the morning of January 22nd when Stephen Daldry’s controversial and much maligned The Reader was announced as one of the five films set to compete for the Best Picture Oscar. It took a spot many thought should have been reserved for The Dark Knight and in doing so has been on the receiving end of what could almost be considered a smear campaign heading into the ceremony. When the film ended I needed quite a bit of time to sit and gather my thoughts on it, much less form or express an opinion on it. It’s less an emotional journey than an intellectual one and I can sympathize with those who are upset with the film’s methods or see no value in the entire experience. But I do believe those who think the film asks us to feel sorry for a Nazi war criminal simply because she’s illiterate, or even asks us to feel sorry for her at all, are way off the mark. That’s a gross oversimplification that speaks more to our uneasiness with the subject matter than anything else. Besides, the Academy would never have enough guts to nominate anything that offensive.

The film instead gets most of its mileage from the fact that it really isn’t about Holocaust, but what happens when your previously held perceptions about someone are challenged and pushed to the breaking point. It’s an interesting character study that isn’t necessarily the offensive smut fest you’ve heard it is. That said, the stodgy Academy only nominated it because it touches on the topic of the Holocaust, was produced by the late Anthony Minghella and Sydney Pollack and stars a frequently nude Kate Winslet as a pedophile Nazi guard. While a thoughtful, well-directed film, there’s little evidence to suggest it deserves to be listed as one of the top cinematic achievements of the year. Then again, the same exact statement could be made (to a greater extent) about the mediocre Milk, another Best Picture nominee this year that inexplicably earned widespread acclaim.

The film (based on Bernhard Schlink’s German novel) opens as middle-aged lawyer Michael Berg (Ralph Fiennes) reflects back on his days as a 15-year-old (Michael Kross) in 1950’s West Berlin. During that summer he meets Hanna Schmitz (Winslet) a cold, detached tram attendant in her mid-thirties who takes him in after discovering he falls ill with Scarlet Fever in front of her apartment. After he recovers he goes back to thank her and the two begin a torrid affair in which their passionate bouts of sex are preceded by him reading to her. Aside from the obvious legal issues, this isn’t exactly the healthiest of relationships. Michael, who she refers to as “kid” has to start re-prioritizing his teenage life to meet her needs and feels his own sense of self sliding away in the process. Of course the running joke here is that this kid would instead probably be running around bragging to his friends that he’s banging the hot older chick down the block who looks like Kate Winslet, which just speaks to how inherently difficult this topic is to tackle on film. Just imagine if the genders were reversed. The affair doesn’t last long as Hanna vanishes at the end of the summer. Flash forward to 1966 when Michael (now in law school) discovers her on trial for aiding in the murder of 300 Jews while serving as an SS Guard at Auschwitz.

Hannah is unrepentant, claiming she was just “doing her job,” as a horrified Michael silently looks on with his law class. She doesn’t want to defend herself against the heinous allegations, or more accurately, just can’t. The secret she’s keeping, the one she took a job at Auschwitz to hide, brings her more shame than her role in the murders. That speaks to the character’s moral shortcomings, not the film’s and isn’t Daldry’s personal endorsement that involvement in the Holocaust is somehow “less shameful,” than not knowing how to read, as some have been trying to spin it. People like this existed and probably still do. She’s horrible, her actions beyond deplorable and I didn’t feel sympathy for her at all, nor was I supposed to. And I especially wasn’t supposed to simply because she can’t read. The film gives you a choice and Daldry’s not holding a gun up to your head telling you what to feel. This kid fell in love (or in lust) with the wrong person and now must forever live with the consequences. That’s what this story is REALLY about.

There comes a point in the trial where he’s faced with the option of coming forward with the valuable information that could help her case and must wrestle with speaking up or remaining silent. The choice isn’t easy. It’s here where we’re allowed to put ourselves in his shoes while the film questions the idea of moral responsibility before trailing off in an unexpected direction entirely as the story moves into the ‘70’s and beyond. Michael carries that guilt and grief with him into his adult life, which Fiennes externalizes so well in a role that’s about ten times larger and more important than you’ve been led to believe from the ads. An encounter late in the film between Michael and a survivor (played by Lena Olin) even directly addresses our concerns about having any pity for Hanna. This is Michael’s story and his search for acceptance that his involvement with her has drastically altered his life and even impacted his relationship with his daughter. It’s perplexing how anyone could say Hanna is absolved or let off the hook for her actions given her circumstances by the end of the film. In fact, they really let her have it.

As far as Kate Winslet’s best performances go, this ranks in the top tier, which says a lot. She’s why all of this works and while the arguing rages on as to whether the film wants you to feel sympathy for her character, no one could claim her performance asks you to. Just watch what she does (and doesn’t do) in those courtroom scenes and then later on when she’s believably aged to 65. To say she deserves the Oscar for this is almost beside the point considering she’s pretty much deserved one for every role she’s played in her career. What’s interesting to note is that this part almost went to Nicole Kidman. Had she gotten it this probably would have been a completely different film. After Birth, you’d figure seducing underage kids in bathtubs would be a piece of cake for her now. Fiennes brilliantly anchors the third act but it’s David Kross as the 15-year-old Michael who shares all the major scenes with Winslet and goes miles further than just holding his own, conveying all the confusion and angst someone that age would be feeling while saying very little.

This is a defense of the film, although not a passionate one because I really believe Academy members voted for it for all the wrong reasons and it shouldn’t rank among the top five achievements last year in cinema. It was only released to line Harvey Weinstein’s pockets and rack up Oscars and that it ended up actually being intelligent was probably some kind of happy accident. At times it also feels like a homework assignment. But that doesn’t mean we should just stop making movies about difficult, challenging subjects because it makes us uncomfortable. Or that all characters in these types of films should be portrayed as inhuman monsters who cackle and twirl their Hitler mustaches while sending innocent people to die because it makes us feel better about what happened. Many of them were probably a lot like this woman.

The tough issues covered here couldn’t have been handled any more sensitively and the tone couldn’t have been balanced any better yet everyone still seems to find it inappropriate. At least this inspires thought and discussion. Something like Milk just inspired for the sake of inspiring. And reducing a daring political figure’s life to standard TV movie of the week fodder is more offensive to me than anything in this. At least this took risks. Sorry, but nothing about the film is average, from its writing, to its direction, to the performances. And I do sincerely apologize for that because I really wanted to hate this film more than you know. It ends giving you a lot to think about, which is what good art should do. That The Reader has sparked such controversy and outrage is a credit to its power, but also a disturbing sign that the notoriously out-of-touch Academy may have actually struck a nerve.

Little Children

Director: Todd Field

Starring: Kate Winslet, Patrick Wilson, Jennifer Connelly, Jackie Earle Haley, Noah Emmerich, Phyllis Sommerville, Gregg Edelman

Running Time: 130 min.
Rating: R

**** (out of ****)
In 2001 Todd Field released In The Bedroom, which earned an Oscar nomination for Best Picture and was hailed by many critics as a masterpiece. It wasn't. Little Children is. What was the first thing I did after I finished watching this film? I sat and thought about it for a long, long time. And then...I watched it again. It's not an easy movie to sit through emotionally but it really requires at least two viewings to fully appreciate all the subtle nuances and tiny details that hide between the cracks of the film, in both the directing and the performances. It's so observant and intelligent about life that you might not even notice all the ground it covers at first. I know I didn't. After the first viewing I was taken aback and not quite sure what to make of it because it's so different from anything that's out there right now. It's very dense, methodically paced, isn't easily accessible and plays like a sprawling novel.

Based on Tom Perrotta's 2004 bestseller of the same name, Field co-wrote the script with author, going on record as saying they had no interest in simply just translating the material onto the screen, but adding a different dimension to it. Having not read the book I can't compare the two, but I have a feeling this is one of those rare adaptations where the integrity of the original work was not only preserved, but enhanced. Kubrickian in its execution, the film features a visionary style, sterile quality, and dark sense of humor the late director would have surely appreciated. It even contains a Barry Lydon-style voiceover narration. There's a throwback feel to it, from the creepy opening title sequence to the score and pacing all the way to it's ambiguous but ambitious ending. It could hold its own with some of the best from the 60's and 70's. The kind of movie they don't make anymore.

I thought Kubrick comparison may have been unfair until I remembered that Todd Field was an actor before he was a director and had a small role in Kubrick's last and most underrated film, Eyes Wide Shut. It looks like someone took notes. Many filmmakers have attempted to employ Kubrick's style over the years but none have come close to succeeding technically or effectively harnessing the spirit of them. Field has.

The film perfectly capturing those lazy summer afternoons in suburbia where the "desperate housewives" sit idly on the park bench gossiping while their children play. Playground politics are on full display in this small Massachusetts suburb and Field keeps digging deeper and deeper into the hypocrisy that surrounds its inhabitants. Someone who wants no part of this hypocrisy and is truthful to herself to a fault is Sarah Pierce (Oscar nominated Kate Winslet). A free spirited woman who was once a dissertation away from her Master's degree in English and is now a mother who couldn't possibly be more unfit for motherhood. Her only enjoyment in life comes from her evening walk around the neighborhood facilitated by her husband Richard's (Gregg Edelman) return from work, where he stays late masturbating to internet porn.

Sarah finds herself amidst three shallow housewives who have set their sights on a man they've dubbed the "Prom King," who has returned to the playground with his son after a long absence. This is Brad Adamson (Patrick Wilson) a stay-at-home dad whose beautiful wife, Kathy (Jennifer Connelly) is a successful PBS documentary filmmaker and family breadwinner. That she's a documentary filmmaker is a neat touch since the uncredited voice that narrates this film belongs to Will Lyman of PBS Frontline fame. Screenwriting coach Robert McKee will probably yell at me for saying this but I'm a sucker for voice over narration. If used well it can add a lot to and this is possibly the best use of it ever in a film. The narrator here is smart, eloquent and often very humorous, popping up at just the right moment (like a tense dinner scene) to add rather than detract from the story. His voice is as much a character as anyone else's in the film.

Brad spends his days entertaining his son and his nights pretending to study for the bar exam, which he's failed more times than JFK Jr. He doesn't want to be a lawyer, or really much of anything for that matter. Time that could be spent studying is used watching kids skateboard in the park in an attempt to recapture the teenage years that eluded him, even though the kids don't even notice he's there. The housewives in the playground are too scared to talk to him, or maybe simply too lazy, but Sarah isn't and on a dare strikes up a conversation. As a joke they share a kiss in front of the shocked and horrified mothers resulting in a very funny scene. That eventually leads to summer afternoons at the pool with the kids and a deep friendship. It soon turns into a torrid affair.

Meanwhile the entire neighborhood has a bigger problem with the release of convicted child molester Ronnie J. McGorvey (Oscar nominated Jackie Earle Haley) from jail after serving a 2-year sentence. He comes home to live with his aging mother (the wonderful Phyllis Somerville) and their scenes together are maybe the most touching, and at the same time strangely pathetic, of the film. She's trying to prepare him for life when she's gone despite the distraction of the town breathing down their necks. When he shows up for a swim at the public pool the parents grab their kids and flee like they've seen Jaws. Leading the charge is Larry Hedges (a completely unrecognizable Noah Emmerich), a "retired" neighborhood cop who leads a group called "The Committee for Concerned Parents" who makes it their mission to rid the town of this pedophile. He organizes a weekly touch football game with the guys and recruits Brad to be their quarterback. He has a secret of his own. From the opening scene of the film, with figurines rattling on a shelf as the sound of an oncoming train approaches, we're prepared for tragedy as these characters' lives threaten to intersect in the worst possible way for over two tension-filled hours.

Rarely does a film get so many little details right and hide such small treasures for the viewer to discover. Like the jester hat Brad's son wears all day but takes off the second his mother comes through the door, as if playtime is over. The real parent is home. No use for silly costumes. Or Sarah forgetting the rice cakes for her daughter and her frazzled reaction to it. Has anyone ever been more ill equipped for parenthood? The narrator at times mirrors the thoughts of the audience as he wonders how Brad can possibly cheat on his seemingly "perfect" wife with Sarah but we actually do know why and so does he. Sarah understands him and for Brad that means an awful lot right now. His wife would rather share the bed with their infant son.

The movie tries to convince us that Sarah is even physically wrong for Brad with her "boyish figure," and does an admirable job dressing her in baggy clothes to make her look as unflattering as possible. Of course we know Kate Winslet is far from ugly and having a "boyish figure," but if the narrator and wardrobe do not completely convince you, her performance will. She digs deep into this sad and negligent mother to deliver the finest work of her career. Some may find her scene with the book club discussing Madame Bovary a little too on the nose and in the hands of a lesser director it would have been. Field knows just the right way to handle it and Winslet is captivating.

On the surface Jennifer Connelly's Kathy seems like just a ball and chain plot device for Brad and Sarah to get together and an underdeveloped character. Look closer though. Watch how Connelly effectively portrays a nagging wife without ever once nagging. She'll give a look or say something just a certain way that gets under Brad's skin. When he announces he's thinking of buying a cell phone her response is so simple and matter of fact that it's actually devastating. How about when Brad comes home and finds a list of magazines he's subscribed to on the table with a note attached: "Do You Really Need These?" Finally a movie portrays marital strife with something a spouse would actually do! People don't always scream and yell at each other. These are the things that hurt more.

Over the past two weeks, between this and the indie drama Hard Candy, I've been able to see two movies starring Patrick Wilson, who I had never really seen or heard of before then. Both of these films are among the best I've seen in years and I think the reason neither performance garnered nominations (perhaps aside from the uncomfortable subject matter) is that he has such a natural screen presence that it appears he isn't doing anything. He's the best kind of actor. He doesn't force anything and can slip into a character without you noticing he's inhabiting it. With his blank expression and regular everyman looks you don't even notice he's giving a performance. Of course it wouldn't be up for any awards. It's too subtly brilliant and never draws any attention to itself. It's what he doesn't do that makes him so effective.

Much has made of Jackie Earle Haley's huge comeback and return to Hollywood's good graces thirty years after his role in The Bad News Bears. The strange thing about his performance as Ronnie is that it doesn't pull you in immediately, but rather sneaks up on you and slowly builds throughout the film until it finally explodes, or more accurately, implodes. His blind date is painful to watch. It seems like it's going well until we realize this man is simply not capable of having any kind of normal social interaction with anyone. The date ends the only way it can: in disaster.

Recently there has been some forward progression in how pedophiles have been portrayed onscreen. Between this film, The Woodsman and Hard Candy we're seeing pedophiles portrayed not as nameless, faceless monsters but as real people who are seriously ill and need help. Their behavior may be monsterous but it doesn't mean they're not human. It may be easier for us to pretend they're not, but if we do we're no closer to understanding what causes it. If we don't understand that, how can we prevent it? It's a reminder movies can educate as well as entertain. A lot of people are going to be uncomfortable with a movie that presents a pedophile in a sympathetic light, but I don't think this does that. It presents him as a sick human. Haley's performance is what earns our sympathy. Your heart breaks for the guy.

As good Haley's performance is, it's not the best in the film. I think that honor belongs to Noah Emmerich as the neighbor who makes it his life goal to harass the hell out of Ronnie and his mother. I can't tell you how many neighborhood parents I knew growing up who were exactly like ex-cop Larry Hedges. I could swear I knew the man. Emmerich gets every detail just right. It's so spot on it's scary. Loud, lonely, obnoxious, opinionated and self-centered he's the guy in the neighborhood you're nice to because you feel you have to be. Not a bad guy mind you, just annoying. You always have that feeling that he's harmless though, as he hides behind his mask of insecurity. For good reason. Everyone has a past. Especially guys like Larry. When you live in a small town you really have no choice but to be nice to him because you're going to have to deal with him every day. I loved it when Kathy had to remind Brad that he doesn't even like Larry Hedges. How true that often we get so caught up in our routines we're not even sure how we really feel about anyone, or even if we care anymore.

Emmerich, a fine character actor best known for his "best friend" supporting roles in films like The Truman Show and Frequency finally has an opportunity to play a character that's three dimensional and complex, and he sinks his teeth into it. How committed was he to this performance? Let's just say when he first appeared on screen I had no idea who he was. He looks like he lost all the weight DeNiro gained for Raging Bull. You can tell he underwent both a physical and emotional transformation to become this neurotic, obsessed man. It's the great overlooked performance of the film because it weaves so seamlessly and realistically into the story that it's almost impossible to notice how powerful his work is upon an initial viewing. His character is at the heart and soul of this film and that's never clearer than at the end. I think it's my favorite performance, supporting or otherwise, of the past year and Emmerich deserved a nomination.

Everyone has their favorite genre of film. Some like horror, others action/adventure, and some prefer suspense films. I always get strange looks when I tell people my favorite type of films are suburban nightmares. There's something about real people put in real situations with the volume turned way up that I respond to. Since I grew up in a small town a lot like this one (minus the public pool) and hated it it's always interesting for me to see these types of films exposing the hypocrisy of the residents, yet still showing them as human beings who make mistakes. The title of the film is cruelly ironic as it's the parents who are really the "little children." They need to be protected…from themselves. There's something about the truthful way it exposes how people think and act that we can learn from. I would rank this film alongside American Beauty, The Ice Storm and The Swimmer as the greatest in this genre.

I went into this film with the highest expectations imaginable and they were exceeded tenfold. In a year that's seen films like Children of Men and Notes on a Scandal come with incredible hype only to fall short for me I went in with great trepidation as well as optimism. As the film's finale approached I worried Field would force all these characters into a contrived collision course of melodrama. Just the opposite occurred. Instead the film ended quietly, introspectively and intelligently. At first I was surprised how abrupt the ending was and the lack of closure. But sometimes in life, that's how it is.

You have to wonder what would have happened had New Line gotten behind this film and pushed it like all the mindless sequels and remakes we've been seeing in theaters lately. That it was only nominated for 3 (albeit very well deserved) Academy Awards is shameful. It should have been a lock for a Best Picture nomination. How Field's first feature In the Bedroom, a great film but inferior on every single level, earned one in 2001 is perplexing. I think mismarketing is to blame and it's carried over into the DVD release as well. The cover art makes the film look like a romantic comedy and doesn't even hint at the emotional heft and complexity of this story.

Interestingly, the DVD doesn't come with a single special feature (not even a trailer) and there are no plans for a special edition in the future. You know what? I'm glad. Any special feature accompanying a film like this would seem gratuitous. Supplemental material, which in most cases is still a good idea, has devolved into a tool for filmmakers to hide the fact their movie sucks. I really don't need to hear George Lucas talk about the catering crew on the Star Wars Episode III DVD. This movie can stand on it's own and it's fitting there isn't a feature on here because this movie doesn't even seem like it belongs in the DVD era at all. That this is only Todd Field's second film can mean one of two things: He's peaked, or more frighteningly, his best work is yet to come. Either way, Little Children is one of those rare motion pictures that stay with you.