SIFF #5 - Severed heads and Hannibal Lecter

By Tuesday, I was back to work, after having a huge struggle to get out of bed in the morning. I was groggy during the whole day, and I have to admit I had decided early that I just couldn't see a two-hour SIFF movie that started at 9:45pm. I just... couldn't... do it. I felt bad because this Movie Which Shall Not Be Named got a full pie from Vickie at the Toronto Film Festival last year. I apologize, Vickie. On some days, I'm afraid, I'm just not made of The Right Stuff.

However! In the meantime I picked up a free screener ticket for a screening of Severance at 7, which played at SIFF over the weekend. It may not have been an official SIFF screening, but I'll count it. Let's just say that I was expecting a black comedy, but not a freakin' blood-splattering horror film! Luckily Moviepie Tim came with me as my +1, but even he was hiding his eyes a few times. Thankfully, Severance (6/8) DID have the dark humor, so that made the movie bearable. All I can say is that the foley editors much have had a field day figuring out how to make all of the various deliciously wet, ripping, and bone-crunching sounds that fill the movie. Blech. With Severance, 28 Days/Weeks Later, The Descent, and even Shawn of the Dead, it seems the Brits are having a bit of a horror resurgence. This is very welcome, as Hollywood filmmakers, having exhausted the Americanizing of Japanese horror, have now resorted to remakes of classics and repetitive sequels that are guaranteed to rake in big bucks.

Speaking of horror, I had a date with Hannibal Lecter on Wednesday night! A Tribute to Anthony Hopkins: SIFF Lifetime Achievement Award Recipient (6/8) had probably generated the most early excitement at SIFF, and certainly had the longest name of any event. Advanced tickets were sold out well in advance, and several of my friends were left out in the cold for not being on top of it.

Press received a note that there was going to be a "red carpet photo opportunity" between 7 and 7:30, just before the event started. I brought along my digital camera, just for the heck of it, donned my press lanyard for the first time this fest, and joined a dozen or so people milling about the front of the theater, including my friend S, who also has a press pass. S and I were praising the glories of prescription sunglasses (as it was a glorious 85-degree evening in Seattle), when we finally saw some hubbub come down the sidewalk. It was a little confusing what was going on, as a small mob of people jostled our way, and then whisked right into the theater. Uhh... what? S was poised, still holding his camera, and said, "What the F..K just happened?" I snapped a couple pics, aiming generally at the mob, and caught poor "Tony" (as he likes to be called) in the midst of... yes... an entourage. I left S cursing on the sidewalk, looking stunned and pissed, and darted into the theater.

I almost went to my seat, where the audience was milling about, clueless to the mild ruckus that just ensued at the entrance to the theater, and noticed some flashes coming from near one of the side exits. Well, there was Tony again, this time trying to look pleasant while he stood with SIFF Artistic Director Carl Spence in front of a SIFF backdrop that may have been made just for this event. He was there literally seconds, then whisked away again... but not before a fan reached out to shake Sir Tony's hand. The SIFF Secret Service panicked for a moment, then someone said about the perpetrator, "It's OK... he's a real person." Hmm. Needless to say, a couple other fans managed to say "hi" and get an autograph or two before the SS hauled him off to apparently a small closet to the side of the stage. He was apparently hidden there until, right on cue, he emerged onstage at 7:30, right after a rambling introduction by Carl Spence.

Luckily for all of us, despite all the weird chaos beforehand, Anthony Hopkins proved to be quite a charming man (and not scary at all!). He prefers to be called "Tony" especially over "Sir Anthony", and he sat in a La-Z-Boy chair on the stage, with his feet up like an amiable uncle full of stories. Alas, this style of Q&A was much more suited to a smaller, more intimate venue than the 800-seat Egyptian theater. The microphone amplification was inconsistent, probably partly because Tony like to move around and be expressive when he talked... so within a sentence it would be the level of an under-the-breath comment to a big boom of a single word hitting the mic wrong. Luckily, it seemed to get more under control as the evening went on. Tony was a great and warm storyteller, and surprisingly good at hilarious impressions of anyone from Katherine Hepburn (whom he worked with on The Lion in the Winter) to his frequent collaborator director James Ivory.

To the audience's credit, people asked him not about big hits like Silence of the Lambs, but his smaller and more obscure movies like The Edge (with Alec Baldwin), Magic (with a puppet), and his own directorial debut Slipstream, which also played at SIFF this year. I was pleased to see that during an opening montage, the only film where people burst out into applause was for the lovely and underappreciated The World's Fastest Indian, a movie that I thought was adorable. Tony, you, too, are adorable, and the audience appreciated your easygoing persona. He talked and talked, and even preferred to keep answering questions when the SIFF folks tried to wrap it up on time. After two hours, the Q&A finally wrapped up. There would be short break, then Remains of the Day (8/8), the most fabulous and melancholy repressed film by Merchant Ivory, would screen. But, once again, the idea of watching an over-two-hour movie starting at 9:45 on a school nice proved too much for me. Like many others, I opted to leave the evening at that.

COMMENT FOR SIFF: Why oh why was such a huge chunk of seating reserved for phancy pants industry folks and other important "friends"? I should have counted, but there were some 6 or 8 full rows of prime seating real estate cordoned off for the event... and at least a third of those seats remained empty for the evening. I know several people that had planned to shell out the $35 to see Sir Tony, but could not get tickets because the evening was "sold out". It's a crying shame that this event seemed catered more to pleasing the sponsors or industry folks rather than the fans. :(

SIFF #4 - Hissy fits and lustful glances

So as my nice long weekend chock full of fun--including SIFF, Lisa Gerrard-a-palooza, and my freakin' birthday--was coming to an end, I found myself a little spent, after running around and getting things done that I have been avoiding (you know, like vacuumning and washing out the cat bowls). So don't judge me for just seeing one film, Ten Canoes (6/8) on memorial day, and skipping out on another screening Which Will Not Be Named.

However! At Ten Canoes, I ran into may annual SIFF pal Z, whom I got to catch up with, hearing about what her Fool Serious self had caught so far, and I got to hear some juicy gossip. Apparently, both screenings of Paris je t'aime were pretty much sold out, including the 11am screening on Memorial Day (it's unusual for a morning screening to be sold out). So EVERYONE wanted in on this one, including a huge link of Platinum Phancy Pants Holders and regular Full Series Pass Holders. You can see this coming: They have to let in a certain amount of passholders, then everyone who bought a ticket (obviously), then more passholders, if there is room. There wasn't room, and the passholder line got cut off. Not only that, but the last man to NOT get in threw a fit. A screaming fit. A threatening everyone SIFF-related and their mother fit. Hollering and hollering how, goddammit, he had a PASS and should be let in, DAMMIT! Apparently, there was almost a fist fight. My friend Z, also turned away, simply blamed herself for not checking the early notices that said the screening was full, and was just disappointed she didn't have time to get to another theater. The great thing about all this is that the movie is being released... next week. DAMN YOU ALL TO HELL!!! ARRRGHHH!!!

So, as for Ten Canoes, I had heard that some people were catching this second screening because they liked it so much the first time around. As for me, this Australian aboriginal fable took a few minutes to get used to. An amiable narrator tells a story within a story, one ancestor learning about another... at tale of one young man lusting after his brother's youngest wife, which leads inadvertently to all hell breaking loose between tribes. The film has a certain easygoing charm, and a very deliberate pace. The narrator even tells one of his own characters to not get restless, waiting for something exciting to happen. The actors are all quite fine, despite the fact that I couldn't repeat any of the characters' names if you paid me. People who enjoyed The Gods Must Be Crazy would enjoy this one.

BUZZ: I have heard good things from several people about Fair Play, which is supposed to be rather shocking, and got a very high recommendation for Sounds of Sand.

SIFF #3 - Astronauts and skeltons

The documentary In the Shadow of the Moon was high on my list of films to see... Specifically, I wanted to take my brother, Moviepie's Tom. Contrary to popular belief, I don't think SIFF mania is necessarily a genetic thing. In fact, I don't think he had EVER been to a movie at SIFF before... but I knew that this film specifically would get his 'tocks into an (uncomfortable) seat at the Neptune.

I think I made a good decision, hauling him along. Here is an excerpt of Tom's to-be-published-later review of the film (8/8, if you haven't guessed):

Being very picky about how many pie slices I allow myself for a review, I'll have to give this one the full pie hot out of the oven. Don't even keep your fork or get a plate, since this documentary won't be sharing slices with anyone!

I think that's pretty positive! Straight from the mouth of Space Boy!

For those (like myself) who are not quite so... er... spacey, In the Shadow of the Moon is still an extremely interesting and vastly entertaining document of the Apollo space program that was the first (and so far only) series of space flights that put men on the moon. I was particularly charmed by the storytelling of Mike Collins and Alan Bean, two guys that just seemed thrilled to tell their tales - You guys are formally invited to my next barbecue! Best story (among many good stories) was Buzz Aldrin's confession about his famous moment where he paused on the last step of the ladder before jumping down to the moon's surface for the first time. Apparently he wasn't meditating on the profundity of the moment, while he stood poised, with one leg lifted off the step... he was actually filling his urine bag. (Yesssss!)

For those who think they have seen everything Apollo-related, the director told about how his crew got access to thousands of reels of film that has been sitting in vaults, collecting dust for over 30 years. My brother's mouth was in a surprised "O" during the length of the film... he said he had seen almost NONE of the footage before, and for awhile, I thought I would need to get him a bib. Space buffs will love Shadow, as will regular audiences.

My bro and his girlfriend took off, and I stayed for Werner Herzog's Rescue Dawn (5/8), starring Christian Bale as Dieter Dengler, a Navy pilot shot down over Laos during the start of the Vietnam War. He ends up in a prison camp with the skeletons of Jeremy Davies and Steve Zahn, both barely recognizable in their husk-like forms. Dieter is a strangely perky POW, constantly smiling and excited, with nice teeth and a positive outlook, even when a transition edit cuts probably 50 pounds off of Bale's frame. Dieter is crafty and has plans of his escape, and his cohorts, who also include a few Vietnamese Air America correspondents, join him... some warily, some with enthusiasm.

I had heard very good buzz about Rescue Dawn going into it, and I have to say I was mildly disappointed. Other than the fact that the main character (yes, based on a real man) wasn't a Rambo-type, this film wasn't a whole lot different than the dramatic arcs of other Vietnam-POW movies. And I have to say the final scene was downright bizarre and unbelievable, considering everything leading up to it. I can only assume that part was true as well, otherwise I would toss it as being ridiculous.

SIFF #2 - Rock Climbers and Rockin' Girls

I thought I already saw quite a few movies (at least for someone who has a full time job and takes no vacation days for SIFF, like many passholders)... but apparently I have a couple of dopplegangers (triple-gangers?) out on the town, adding numbers to my SIFF total.

Within minutes of sitting down for an 11:00am screening at the Egyptian, two women (both total strangers) came up to me and started discussing the movies that "we" saw together the night before. Apparently I was not only at the Egyptian theater, but I was also at Pacific Place, catching Romanian and Hungarian dramas, respectfully. This middle-aged woman almost started arguing with me, claiming that I was sitting right next to her at her screening, and I'd better tell her what I thought of the film, or she would deck me. I had to explain several times that I was, in fact, at the SIFF Cinema, an answer she did not like.

Anywho...

My first film was Team Everest: A Himalayan Journey (6/8), a documentary about a group of handicapped folks ascending Mt. Everest all the way to base camp at 17,500 feet. Crazy, I tell you! Unsurprising, it was an inspiring and heartwarming tale. The most interesting stories probably came from the men in wheelchairs that intermittently had to be carried (sans chairs) on the backs of sherpas, who would trade off their load every 20 minutes or so. At one point, the group is going over slippery mud on a trail that could drop you hundreds, if not thousands of feet down a cliff at one stumble. Soooo not right! There was nothing really wrong with the documentary, as the folks and the mission were admirable and impressive... but when the director later said that he had trimmed 20-minutes from the running time to make it clock in at two hours, I realized that another half-hour cut from the film would have tightened it up. You don't want to pick and choose from the "characters" in the film, but some, like paraplegic Gene, and competing young bucks Matt and Riley, were cinematically more interesting than others. Less characters and more focus would make this already interesting film much more gripping.

For the rest of the afternoon I had made a decision to skip films, and instead catch the rock showcase of the girls who were featured in the documentary Girls Rock! (a film I had to miss because of conflicting scheduling). At 1:30 on a sunny Saturday afternoon (my birthday, no less), a gaggle of girls from Portland's Rock Camp For Girls held a rock show for the entertainment of fans, parents, kids, and festival looky-loos like myself. Personally, I was sold on the poster for the show, which I spotted on a telephone pole near where I work, that showed a kewpie-doll girl with a fierce expression, holding a microphone.

I apologize to the rocker girls and their film pals in advance that I didn't take notes as to band names and particular performers that were playing, but I'll just say this: You all kick ass! Congrats to King, Blubird (two awesome 13-year olds that will give Smoosh a run for the money), Raining Jane, and Diamond Cut Diamond for entertaining me and my friend for an afternoon. I'm sure all of you who have seen the movie Girls Rock! can identify the girls involved, but I'll say I was totally impressed with a teen from Oklahoma who cheerfully announced she was performing her own song, then crunched into some deep, low, thumping sludge that was like the music of the Melvins meets the vocals of Sepultura. My pal and I were grinning from ear to ear. During the whole show, you could heard girls banging on drums and creating a heck of a bunch of noise in the adjoining room. How many ways can you say that's awesome? I kinda regret not buying one of the cool black hoodies to support the cause, but I'll be at least sending them a donation soon!

SIFF #1 - So it begins...

For me, the Seattle International Film Festival is like getting one of those Costco-sized tubs of Red Vines. You see it at the store, put it your cart, and can think of nothing else until you get it home. You pick up the tub, turn it in your hands and look at it from all sides, admiring the hundreds of treats in it. When you finally get it open, you gorge and gorge and tell yourself happily that you will never tire of Red Vines. As the tub of treats start to dwindle, so does your enthusiasm. You find yourself offering some tickets, I mean Vines to friends and co-workers. You find that over-doing it is making you feel frankly a little sick. But when you see that the tub is almost empty, and only a few remain, you force yourself to finish it off. When that tub is gone though, you find that you don't know what to do with yourself for another year. How can you live without Red Vines?

So, on Friday, I got to open my metaphorical Tub-o-Treats... FINALLY, after poring over the SIFF schedule for weeks. My first night did not disappoint...

In order to flee work early for a 4:00 screening, I got myself to work at the ass-crack of dawn (as I told others). Fortunately, as it is almost summer, it was not as bad as getting to work two hours before the sun came up, yet still I suffered. I am NOT a morning person.

A little after 3:00, I fled out the door, and decided to walk from my office on Capitol Hill down to the brand-spankin' new SIFF Cinema at McCaw Hall at the Seattle Center. Two things I didn't figure: Even though it was overcast by then, and a mild 70-ish degrees, I was covered with sweat by the time I got to the Center. And second (duh) I totally forgot that the Northwest Folklife Festival began that day. Weaving in and out of hippies, musicians, and craft hucksters was not in my plan for my shortcut through the Center. I made it with 15 minutes to spare however, and found myself basically dipping my whole face into the drinking fountain to cool off (those darn fancy faucets in the bathroom only had hot water! waahh!).

My first film was the delightful and exuberant Gypsy Caravan (7/8), a sort of Buena Vista Social Club for gypsy music. The documentary follows a US concert tour of five Romany bands from varying countries and cultures: Macedonia, Spain, Romania, and India. The bands don't know each other, have never played together, and in many cases don't share a language. But music breaks down the barrier, and the film develops into a cross-cultural road trip as the group of 30-some musicians, singers, and dancers bond over a 6-week tour. The music is, unsurprisingly, fantastic. I've been a fan of composer Goran Bregovic's music (he is known for scoring Emir Kusturica's films) for many years, and was both surprised (and not) to find myself recognizing several of the tunes played by Macedonian diva Esma and the horns-o-rific Fanfare Ciocarlia of Romania. Heck, turns out that I even knew Romanian band Taraf de Haïdouks, whose CD I picked up on a whim from a used pile a few years back. The Indian band Maharaja is full of charm and humor (wait until you see their dancer's "knee dance"), and the Spanish aunt/nephew flamenco duo is perhaps the ones that grow on you through the film, as their seeming outsider status among the others slowly changes to them joining one big happy family. Highly recommended!

My next event was also at the same cinema. I had gone to goddess Lisa Gerrard's concert the night before at The Moore, but honestly had some hesitation that the Dead Can Dance singer and frequent film composer would be very "talky" in an interview setting. The Evening with Lisa Gerrard (8/8) turned out to be fantastic. For some reason, the theater was only half full, but we were all crammed to be as close to the stage as possible (none of that aloof sitting in the back row nonsense). The audience was full of fans as Lisa floated in (as she tends to do), and sat with a Q&A with moderator Ian Hierons. Turns out that Hierons would just ask a single question (like "Tell us about how you got started in music..." and Lisa would launch into a 10 or 15-minute answer. She was a funny and thoughtful storyteller, and would go on tangents about anything from the environment to "finding your center" to trying to relearn what you were taught as a child (and told to unlearn as an adult). Oh yeah, she also talked about scoring films, elaborating on her work for films like The Insider, Gladiator, and Whale Rider. Two words that came up often: "obedience" (towards the director and his or her vision) and "self-confidence" (to believe in yourself and your craft, even if the director is constantly cutting you down). If you fail at either of these, it will break you.

When they announced that they interview would end so that they would show the documentary film Sanctuary: Lisa Gerrard (5/8), I have to admit, there was a ripple of disappointment in the audience. We were all newly converted disciples of Lisa, and could have skipped the film to let her continue. The film was fine, though its initial artiness (with staticky images of Iraq War news footage, dripping forest leaves, traffic jams, and what have you) didn't always work, and frankly the sound was crap. Dialogue had a halo of fuzz around it, and music only fared a little better. I heard later that it was the film print, and not the new theater itself. Let's hope so for SIFF Cinema's sake.

At the end of the Q&A following the film, a young woman in the front row asked Lisa if she could give her a gift. Lisa accepted, and she was handed a stick of plastic-wrapped cotton candy, and a Northwest Folklife T-shirt. Lisa was obviously delighted, saying, "Oh! We call this 'candy floss' in Australia!” and we all adored her even more.

After she mentioned that she gave singing workshops to universities in Australia and New Zealand, but had never done one in North America because she hadn't been invited, someone in the audience immediately yelled out, "You're invited!" And indeed, Lisa, if you are reading, I'm sure those few hundred folks you shared your evening with in Seattle would love to have you back... and next time they are bringing all of their friends!

Hollywood Starts Making Money... Literally!

I believe this is one of the seven signs of the apocalypse...

20TH CENTURY FOX CHALLENGES AMERICA TO SEARCH 4 $ILVER!
Limited Edition “Silver Surfer” Coin Is This Summer’s Silver Ticket


This summer, silver is the new gold standard – for movies, with the June 15 release of Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer, and for movie promotions, as Twentieth Century Fox and the Franklin Mint join forces to create an original limited collector’s edition “Silver Surfer” U.S. quarter that will challenge movie goers to Search 4 $ilver.

The collector’s “Silver Surfer” U.S. quarter will be emblazoned with the image of the legendary Marvel Comics character who takes a leading role in the movie. This legal tender coin is a 2005 California statehood commemorative quarter minted by the United States Mint and specially color-enhanced by The Franklin Mint for Twentieth Century Fox.

Fox will launch the Search 4 $ilver in grand style by sending a specially-outfitted fleet of silver armored trucks out to deliver 40,000 coins to cities all across America, in time for Memorial Day weekend.

Then begins the Search. Those who find the special coins will be directed to the film’s official website, where they can register for a chance to win a 4 day/3 night trip for 4 to the June 12th world premiere of Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer in London, England. The winner will be announced on or about June 4. Also, the first 400 people to register will be entered for a chance to receive one private screening of the film for their friends and family the night before the film surfs into theaters everywhere. In addition to the above prize opportunities, every fan is invited to visit the film’s website (www.riseofthesilversurfer.com) everyday until June 12th to flip a “virtual coin” for a chance to win instant prizes.

Suffering from Sequelitis? Our 10 Summer Movie Alternatives!

I picked up the Summer Movie Preview issue of Entertainment Weekly recently, one of my guilty pleasures that I devour cover to cover. Sure, Spider-Man 3 was on the cover--no surprise--but I was looking forward to finding out what exciting new movies would be coming out this summer. But page after page I found myself flashing back to 2005, 2003, 2001... flashing back to TV shows, to movies that sounded eerily familiar because they HAD ALREADY BEEN MADE! For example, this is just a sampling of what Summer 2007 has to offer:

Pirates of the Caribbean 3
Spider-Man 3
Shrek 3
Rush Hour 3
28 Days Later 2
Harry Potter XXXIII
Fantastic Four 2
Oceans 13
Evan Almighty (offshoot of Bruce Almighty)
Die Hard 4 (who asked for this?)
The Simpsons Movie (TV to big screen... OK, I'll actually see this one)
Hairspray (remake of a musical that remade a movie!)
The Transformers (fer cryin' out loud!)
No Reservations (remake of German film Mostly Martha)
Invasion (Invasion of the Body Snatchers remake)
Halloween (a, uh, Halloween remake by Rob Zombie)

... and on and on and on.

So, I decided to look at the summer schedule very very closely. I knew there had to be some gems for the rest of us... those of us who don't demand the same movies and characters over and over.

After careful note-taking, here I offer 10 OTHER movies that I'm looking forward to... 10 movies that I hold high hopes for, based on their descriptions or credentials. 10 movies that I encourage everyone to seek out... (that is if there are any more screens available after the sequels have belched forth!). So, in no particular order:

1) Waitress - Enthusiastically received at Sundance after the untimely murder of writer/director/costar Adrienne Shelly, Waitress stars adorable Keri Russell (Felicity), Nathan Fillon (Firefly/Serenity), and pie. Yes, PIE! I say you can't go wrong with a romantic comedy co-starring PIE! (already playing - http://www.foxsearchlight.com/waitress/)

2) Knocked Up - I'm sure this comedy will get people riled up, as it is about two mis-matched young adults deciding to have a baby conceived from a one-night stand. But it stars my latest comedic crush Seth Rogan (Undeclared, Freaks and Geeks), Katherine Heigl (Grey's Anatomy), and it was made by the folks who gave us The 40-Year-Old Virgin. Frankly, I have high hope that it's gonna be AWESOME! (opens June 1 - http://www.knockedupmovie.com/)

3) Evening - Vanessa Redgrave lies bedridden and dying, and tells her daughters (Toni Collete and Natasha Richardson) of a closely held dark secret from the days when she was a young woman in love. It co-stars Claire Danes, Patrick Wilson, Glenn Close, and... wait for it... Meryl Streep. Adapted by Michael Cunningham (The Hours), it is a much appreciated adult weepie in a season where we otherwise get to choose from watching spider super-powers and fat cartoon ogres. The freakin' trailer for this film makes me feel like sobbing! (opens June 29 - http://www.focusfeatures.com/evening/)

4) Severance - The press release calls this movie "The Office meets Deliverance". A corporate team-building event in the mountains goes horribly, bloodily awry. As someone who has been laid-off four times, I was sold on the title alone. (opens limited May 18th - http://severancefilm.com/)

5) Ratatouille - The new movie from Pixar. 'Nuff said! (Let's just hope the name doesn't confuse people into thinking it might be something dreadful and French. It's bad enough that there is a pronunciation guide under the title on the official website. Not a good sign for a movie whose target audience revers one-syllable movies like Shrek.) (opens June 29 - http://disney.go.com/disneypictures/ratatouille/)

6) 1408 - Why not a Stephen King adaptation to break up the summer cheeriness? Why not cast it with the fabulously under-appreciated John Cusack? Why not take the claustrophic horror of The Shining and cram it into one room, instead of a whole hotel? Heck, sign me up! (opens June 22 - http://www.1408-themovie.com/)

7) Talk to Me - In this 1960s period piece based on a true story, Don Cheadle plays an ex-con named Ralph Waldo “Petey” Greene Jr. who gets a radio talk show. It co-stars the lovely and excellent Chiwetel Ejiofor (Dirty Pretty Things, Kinky Boots) as his producer. I would watch those two read a phone book. Plus, according to the film stills, there is bound to be some excellent hair and walrus moustaches! (opens July 13 - http://www.focusfeatures.com/)

8) A Mighty Heart - Angeline Jolie aims to regain her acting cred with this true-story drama. Remember Daniel Pearl, the journalist who was beheaded by terrorists? This is the story of Pearl's wife, Marianne, one tough lady who gave birth to their child after her husband's grisly and public death. Apparently it is a story about rising above bitterness and hatred, a lesson that we all could use. Directed by Michael Winterbottom (Road to Guantanamo, Welcome to Sarajevo), it is bound to be interesting. (opens June 22 - http://www.amightyheartmovie.com/)

9) Fido - This blurb says it all: "Timmy Robinson's best friend in the whole wide world is a six-foot tall rotting zombie named Fido. But when FIDO eats the next-door neighbor, Mom and Dad hit the roof, and Timmy has to go to the ends of the earth to keep Fido a part of the family." The film stars creepy Dylan Baker, hee-larious Billy Connolly, and smokin-hot Carrie-Anne Moss. (opens June 15 - http://lionsgate.com/fido/)

10) Superbad - What is summer without a teen sex comedy? Co-written by Seth Rogen (see Knocked Up) the trailer for this dorks-try-to-get-laid quest made a roomful of jaded movie critics chortle. (opens August 17 - http://www.areyousuperbad.com/)

Tell me that I'm not the only one who is tired of sequels. Let me know what you are looking forward to seeing this summer!

The Pandora's Box of Sly Lovin'

I first saw First Blood when I was 8 years old. My dad's friend's daughter worked in a video store, and every once in awhile a movie would drop into our laps right out of the blue. This one was particularly welcome, as I was just coming down with chicken pox, and I remember watching every riveting second from my little nest on the couch. Never had I seen a more attractive or desperately pathetic figure as John Rambo. Those sad, droopy eyes! Those amazing muscles! I wanted to get to him immediately and save him from this cruel world. Oh, how I hated Brian Dennehy for making his life a living nightmare, and every time Richard Crenna showed up, things only seemed to get worse. Bastards! Leave my Rambo alone!

The next day was Mother's Day, and we went for a drive in the country. I was slumping feebly in my seat as we wound down sun-dappled roads, and all I could think of in my chicken-pox haze was Rambo. I must have had a fever, because the thoughts weren't very clear - just him climbing around in the woods.

After a couple of weeks, I'd almost moved on. I got my very first Cabbage Patch Doll, and my grandma let us take home her miniature slot machine, so there were plenty of exciting distractions standing between me and my new true love. But then, fate intervened. My mom seemed to realize that Sylvester and I were meant to be together, so she picked up Rhinestone at the library and brought it home.

Ah, Rhinestone- truly one of cinema's great unsung comedies. Not only did my boyfriend have the saddest eyes in town, he could sing! Great songs! Like "Drinkenstein"! I kept pumping nickles into that little slot machine, so I didn't catch the finer plot points, but when Sylvester woke up face down in the chicken yard? Comedy at its finest! Except that honestly I was kind of worried about him, and this became the basis of our relationship.

Ever the matchmaker, my mom gave me a little magazine cut-out of Sly, which I displayed proudly on my dresser. This never struck me as remotely funny, until my teenage cousin came in to say "hi" one afternoon. Her gaze immediately fell on the cut-out and she stifled laughter. "You like him?" she choked.

"Yeah!" I said defensively, staring hard at the floor and flushing pink. Why was it weird that I liked him? Some stupid reason like he was old enough to be my father?!

I quickly hid my little cut-out and took my Sly lovin' underground. Except that about this time, he was hooking up with Brigitte Nielsen, and I did not approve of that at all. I didn't feel that she was a sincere person, and anyway, give a girl a shot! It would be at least 10 years before I could make my move, and here she was stealing him out from under my nose. I had to wash my hands of him.

From then on he lurked in the department of guilty pleasures, but I refused to get emotionally involved. Angie Everhart vs. Jennifer Flavin? La la la la. I DON'T HEAR YOU. I watched Lock Up and LOVED it. I thought Oscar was actually pretty cute. Cop Land rocked my world. I must have played Rocky IV two hundred times when I worked at a video store in college. But for the most part I remained in denial. There was no way I was going to admit that I was actually a fan.

My Sly lovin' was safely under wraps, but it all came spilling out last summer when I watched First Blood for the first time in twenty-one years. Suddenly, all I wanted to watch was Sly, and I didn't care who knew it. As I unearthed gems like Over the Top and D-Tox, I was filled with regret. Why hadn't I allowed myself to enjoy these movies when they were new? Was I too embarrassed, or did I give up because loving Sly is just too depressing? One way or another, you always wind up feeling sorry for him.

Our rekindled romance went well for the first six months or so. I watched every movie I could get my hands on, broke out my advance reader's copy of Sly Moves (which I had quietly squirreled away two years earlier), and generally flew my freak flag. I was unmoved when the room erupted in laughter when I announced that I was going to see Rocky Balboa after work. Sly and I were together again.

This time around, I tried to focus on the more uplifting aspects of Mr. Stallone's long and varied career. I love that his own success as a screenwriter mirrored Rocky's success as a boxer. His is the ultimate underdog story, and he's never shy about encouraging others to pull themselves up by their bootstraps and make their dreams come true. As I approached 30 - the age Sly was when Rocky came out - I started thinking about making my own writerly dreams come true, with him as my muse. I was thinking that the moral of this story is that you should just love what you love, no matter what anyone says...and then he showed up in Australia with a plane full of illegal human growth hormone and missed his own flippin' premiere. Today he went ahead and pleaded guilty to the charges. Dang Sly, what were you thinking?

I don't think this story has a moral anymore.

Have you ever loved a celebrity who alternately depressed and embarrassed you, but who you just couldn't give up? Head on down to the comments section and give me some therapy.

Kissed by Grizzly Adams

I have spent the better part of my life hoping to meet various famous people, but every time it happens I freeze up like the proverbial deer in the headlights. Within a certain proximity to fame, I suffer a swift neurological shut-down that causes me to lose 97% of my faculties. All that remains is my ability to smile like an idiot savant and say "thank you so much, wow, thank you!" None of the witty or meaningful things I want to say will come out, and I'm powerless to ask questions of my own. I guess it's good to come across as harmless and feeble, but just once I'd like to meet a famous person with my brain in tow.

I think part of the problem is that our relationship to celebrities is completely safe and one-sided. You can watch them on TV wearing jammies and sporting bed-hair, and they won't care, because they don't even know you're alive. In fact, 9 times out of 10 you can meet them in person and get the same response. How many times have you gone to a signing or a meet-and-greet only to be herded through like cattle? You might get your picture taken and you might walk away with an autograph, but you remain one of the nameless, faceless masses. This is what I expected when Linda and I went to meet Dan Haggerty a.k.a. Grizzly Adams last week. This is not what I got.

For some reason, I pictured the whole thing taking place in large log cabin-y reception hall with a big fire burning in the fireplace. There would be so many people I'd be lucky to snap a picture. Also, Dan would be wearing that great big Grizzly Adams coat, so he'd probably be hot, uncomfortable, and anxious to leave. Imagine my shock when he walked into the room, shook our hands warmly, and said, "Hi, I'm Dan."

Already my brain was shorting out. There was no fireplace, no huge crowd, and no Grizzly coat. There would be no celebrity/fan dynamic - we were all going to be real people. Oh. My. God. Someone told him we wanted to meet him, and he plopped down on a chair between us, put his hands on our knees, and settled in to chat. What to say, what to say? Nothing I had planned would come out - not with his hand on my knee! Why were we there if we couldn't even speak? Would he understand that showing up meant we loved him? Thankfully he took charge of the conversation, and before he moved on, Linda had the good sense to ask if we could get our pictures taken with him.

Yes! Things were starting to make sense! Except there I was with my arm slung around Grizzly Adams (childhood hero), and all of a sudden he was planting a kiss on my cheek. Wait, what?! I thought I'd be the one sneaking a kiss here! He loaded us up with autographed 8x10's, all the while flirting, making jokes, and asking us questions. Linda had even teased about sitting on his lap the night before, so by the time he patted his knee so I could sit, I was just about ready to faint. It was just like a dream where everything you want to happen happens, except you can't talk. Luckily, when I woke up the next morning, the autographed pictures were still on the dining room table, right where I left them. It was real after all.

I didn't tell Dan that he was a fixture in my childhood who always made me happy, or that when I was really little, I'd ask "Is this Grizzly Adams?" whenever we watched a wildlife special. I guess every time I saw a bear, I expected (or wanted) him to show up. I didn't have the sense to ask him any good questions, like did he ever meet "Grizzly Man" Timothy Treadwell, and what did he think of that whole thing? I could kick myself for that, but at least I can die knowing that for a split second my favorite mountain man found me kissable. If anyone out there loves me, they'll make note of it on my headstone.