Anticipating "Thank You for Smoking" and the art of satire

Great news for those of us stuck in wide-release world: After it cracked the top 10 on a limited number of screens, "Thank You for Smoking" has been deemed worthy of gracing our theaters.

It won't be here until Friday, and only at the AmStar here in Macon, but early word from bloggers is positive. I'm hopeful that, for once, the satire will be sharp and no one will be spared.

The New York Times has posted the trailer and four very funny clips here, so click and judge for yourself.

In honor of this welcome change of pace, here, in order, are my favorite political satire movies (and one TV show, it's my list after all.)

10. "Dr. Strangelove or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb": What could be funnier than the end of the world? You'll see Peter Sellers' name on this list more than any other, and his multiple roles were all great in this one, but even better was George C. Scott as Gen. Buck Turgidson. Pure madness from the mind of Stanley Kubrick.

9. "The Mouse that Roared": How could a little movie made way back in 1959 be so silly and yet still so relevant? Sellers again in multiple roles in the tale of a small European country that declares war on the U.S. in hopes of reaping the benefits of losing. How sad that since the end of the Cold War things have only gotten worse.

8. "Citizen Ruth": Long before he wowed the world with "Sideways," Alexander Payne brought us this too broad but often deadly look at the war over abortion. This one is almost worth it just for the cast, especially Laura Dern as our glue-sniffing "heroine" and Burt Reynolds in full bluster as an appropriately ridiculous right-to-life crusader.


7. "Duck Soup": The best Marx Brothers movie is so funny I almost forgot how political it is. Watching Groucho woo and then go to war for Mrs. Teasdale reminds us that American humor has always been as lowbrow as it is now, it just used to be a lot more funny.

6. "Clockwork Orange": Kubrick again in a movie that disturbed me too much to enjoy it the first two times I saw it. After you get over the shock, however, Anthony Burgess' novel about a futuristic Britain and what means it employs to control crime makes a nearly perfect movie.

5. "Bob Roberts": These days it's hard to believe that Tim Robbins was once a very funny guy. Witness "Tapeheads" with John Cusack, and later this skewering of right wingers. Roberts is scary enough as the candidate himself, but I especially liked Giancarlo Esposito as the quite-possibly-crazy journalist who, of course, knows the truth.

4. "South Park": Like I said, it's my list, so TV counts too, especially when it's this good. I think one episode sums up its power perfectly, the one where the late Christopher Reeve not only gains the power to walk again but even superpowers, all from sucking the blood from discarded fetuses. It's hard to watch, as the sharpest satire should be.


3. "Being There": Sellers again, in my favorite of all his roles, Chance the gardener, aka Chauncey Gardiner, who ascends from his servant's role to the presidency spouting lines he garners from TV. At the time it could have been seen as a mockery of President Carter's homespun wisdom, but it fits even better with the White House's current resident.

2. "Mash": Not my favorite Robert Altman movie, which would be "Nashville", but damn close. I admit I didn't see this until well into the TV show's run, near the end when Alan Alda had turned it into a preachy mess. It was so refreshing then, and still is, to see how easily Donald Sutherland and Elliott Gould made the only real Hawkeye and Trapper John come to life in the Chaos that was Korea.

1. "Election": The second Payne flick is easily one of my favorite movies of all time. A war between arguably the two most adorable people in America - Reese Witherspoon and Matthew Broderick - in the hell that is high school. Witherspoon's Tracy Flick is pure evil, and the screenplay based on Tom Perrotta's novel is deadly. Rent it now.

All right, enough from me. Now go see "Thank You for Smoking" this weekend so we can keep more good movies flowing into wide-release world.

Terry Schiavo and other, better news

If that name means nothing to you, count yourself lucky, I guess. Though I tried my best to ignore the whole unfortunate situation involving Mrs. Schiavo, it was virtually impossible.

Now comes news that can only make things worse. Apparently her husband, whose name I never need to know, wrote a book called "Terri: The Truth," which has been optioned for a movie by former Tarantino producer Lawrence Bender and Mike Farrell.

I can't see anything but a TV movie for this one, and I haven't watched one of those in many, many years. However, there are two - albeit remote - ways this just might not suck.

Flash back with me, if you will, to Pedro Almodovar's "Talk to Her," a touching, at times funny movie about, well, women in comas. It can be done, but probably not twice.

Even better would be a look at the hypocrisy of the Washington politicians who rallied to keep her alive or advocated pulling the plug - though they had no actual connection to the situation. If I'm not mistaken, even Jesse Jackson was involved somehow by the end. Now that would be fascinating, but it probably won't happen.

In the end, we don't know yet what we'll get, but I just can't see it being anything good.

"Arrested" alumni update


This pretty good nugget of news comes courtesy of the Hollywood Reporter.

Following in the footsteps of Jeffrey Tambor, Will Arnett has made plans for his immediate post-"Arrested Development" career. DreamWorks and Paramount have picked up "The Ambassador," a movie pitch by Arnett and Michael Schur.

The story centers on a former U.S. vice president's privileged son (Arnett), who is assigned an ambassadorship in Europe, where he quickly becomes the quintessential ugly American. This sounds to me a lot like Gob Bluth takes on the world, which would by default have to be funny. Schur is a writer for the American "Office," a surprisingly funny and skewed offering, so these two should make a good match.

Chandrasekhar update

With "Beerfest" wrapped, Broken Lizard's Jay Chandrasekhar also has a new project, but maybe one without his comedy troupe mates.

According to the always reliable Ain't It Cool News, he is going to direct a flick called "Ambulance Chasers" for Warner Bros under the Broken Lizard production company. It's about two rather unreputable lawyers who fight over clients.

Good premise, good director, so why any worry? Well, first of all, this isn't a Broken Lizard movie. Jon Zack, whose few writing credits include a movie called "Perfect Score" about cheating on the SATs, has been hired to write the script instead. Somehow, even with the promise of Scarlett Johansson, I managed to miss that one.

The last time Chandrasekhar ventured out on his own we got, well, "The Dukes of Hazzard." He has nowhere to go but up.

Beerfest

This may not be news to anyone but me, but it made my morning.

Broken Lizard, the comedy troupe behind the very funny "Super Troopers" and somewhat less funny "Club Dread," have just finished filming their next movie, "Beerfest."

With a title like that just about anything is possible, but here is the summary available on the IMDB: "Two brothers travel to Germany for Oktoberfest, only to stumble upon secret, centuries-old competition described as a "Fight Club" with beer games."

If you don't think that could be funny, move on. Personally, I was laughing already as I read it. "Super Troopers" is, for me, a cathartic kind of movie, one I can watch at the end of a long day and just laugh from start to finish. If this comes even close, I'll be happy.

Here's a little from the guys posted a little while ago at Myspace:

"We're about a week away from finishing shooting Beerfest. Great stuff so far. Everyone is sick and exhausted. Looking forward to being done.

Warner Bros. has set a release date of Aug. 25. So you won't have to wait long before you see our latest epic saga of mirth and vomiting. Of course, these dates can change, so don't start camping out for tickets yet. Ah, fuck it. If you want to camp out for 6 months, who are we to stop you?

We're trying to get brokenlizard.com up and running again, so keep checking back. And we've got a deep bin of unread messages, so we apologize for not being great pen pals.

Rock and Roll."

An epic saga of mirth and vomiting? Bring it on. The Broken Lizard guys - Erik Stolhanske, Jay Chandrasekhar, Steve Lemme, Kevin Heffernan and Paul Soter - just seem like the kind of guys you'd want to drink a lot of beer with.

In a parallel move, my brother and I, accompanied by at least five members of his army of Minnesota soccer geeks, will be travelling to Germany ourselves for the World Cup. I don't anticipate joining in any "Fight Club" beer-drinking activities, but I'll let you know if I find any.

Georgia Bulldogs at G-Day

I know, I know, this is supposed to be a blog about movies.

Well, looking at my options this morning, I decided there was nothing new at my multiplex that I could with a good conscience pay to see. That really left only one option: G-day in Athens.

For those of you unfamiliar with the rituals of the Bulldog Nation, G-Day is the culmination of spring practice, a fairly hands-on scrimmage for the fans.

Although coach Mark Richt went to great lengths this morning to tell us in the Telegraph that you can't learn much from spring, I made the drive anyway and joined a fairly large crowd of curious fans in Sanford Stadium.

OK, to get right to what everyone wants to know: Matt Stafford, on his first play from scrimmage with the second-team offense, through a 64-yard TD bomb to Mikey Henderson. That's 64 yards in the air, mind you ... just amazing to watch. Dead accurate, and best of all, Henderson, unlike many of last year's options, CAUGHT THE BALL. You'll be hearing his name a lot this fall.

As for Stafford, he looked comfortable in the pocket and is obviously fundamentally sound, executing play-action smoothly. He just looked as game ready as you can expect an incoming freshman to be. He didn't play much (if at all) in the second half due to the QB rotation, but he made his mark.

And starter-for-the-moment Joe Tereshinski. I felt bad for him because he made some fairly accurate throws into tight spots and had his receivers drop the ball. Tight end Martrez Milner, in particular, has a LONG way to go to be a top-shelf TE. That said, Tereshinski didn't seem to be thinking fast enough, and he clearly would have been leveled several times by Hawkinsville's own Charles Johnson if he wasn't wearing that no-contact jersey.

Redshirt sophomore Joe Cox, though, probably, had the most time at QB and he looked, well, acceptable. None of them were able to lead a genuine drive down the field, but that is to be expected this time of year: the defense is always further along.

The verdict: I think Joe T will be on a very, very short leash, and will probably lose his starting job by, if not before, the South Carolina game. However, thankfully for everyone involved, I'm not the coach.

Oh yeah, before I forget, the red team (starters) won, 14-10.

Other thoughts: There were two pick-sixes, Ramarcus Brown and Asher Allen. Brown, in particular, is a speed demon on defense, and Allen was all over the field. As I mentioned, Charles Johnson also had a great day, breaking into the offensive backfield seemingly at will. He and Quentin Moses will be monsters on the D-Line in the fall.

We didn't see too much of ringer receiver Mohammed Massaquoi, but the aformentioned Henderson, recently converted from defense, and T.J. Gartrell both should be solid second options this fall. Tripp Chandler had a lot of balls thrown his way on the second team, but only caught about half. Milner, as stated earlier, was simply atrocious.

At running back, Kregg Lumpkin was fun to watch, showing all the speed and power we expected when he arrived in Athens. And a vision of the future: youngster Jason Johnson ran like his britches were on fire with the second team, and looked fearless. The stable will never be empty.

These, of course, are only my observations, not those of an actual sports reporter. For that, turn to Josh Kendall in tomorrow's Telegraph.

One further note, I've forgotten the young lady's name, but UGA apparently has a baton twirler who is representing the U.S. at some kind of world championship. During halftime Saturday, she twirled four batons at once. I had planned to just read the paper at halftime, but she was much more entertaining to watch.

Tomorrow, it's back to movies, sort of: I plan to go to the Tubman African American Museum to see their blaxploitation movie poster exhibit.

Steven Spielberg gets real?

Maybe he just really needed the money.

For whatever reason, what I keep hoping beyond hope is a dying TV genre got a big boost today when It was announced that Steven Spielberg will team up with Mark Burnett for "The Lot," a reality series for Fox aimed at discovering the next big Hollywood director.

It's due to premiere next winter or spring, with 16 finalists competing for the big prize: a development deal with DreamWorks.

I, and I know I'm far from alone here, consider Spielberg the reigning master at storytelling that builds suspense to its height, with his worthy successor being Peter Jackson. To see the master pimp himself out like this is as shameful as it is just downright depressing.

Maybe I would watch more reality TV if it was about reality. Go to McDonald's and hold a competition to see who can deep-fry the most taters without splattering themselves with scalding hot oil. Or, even better, a grave-digging competition in which the losers all have to be buried alive. And go ahead and make Paris Hilton one of them.

I won't even get into this as a method for discovering new directors because, it's early, and I can't get that depressed before a busy Friday.


In much better news, Kris Benson was stellar in his debut for the Orioles Thursday night, even though they lost 2-0 to the Devil Rays. Despite his on-again-off-again marital problems, Benson kept his head in the game long enough to yield just four hits in seven innings. If that continues, expect him to win a lot more than 10 games this year with that lineup behind him.

Tonight, young Daniel Cabrera takes the mound against Matt Clement and the Boston Red Sox in a battle of teams tied for first place in the AL East. Man, does that sound good to me.

Blaxploitation and Macon Film Fest

It's a big weekend for movie lovers in Macon, having nothing to do with the sludge that hits the multiplexes this weekend.

First, kicking off with an opening reception Friday night, is an exhibit featuring great posters from the height of blaxploitation cinema in America, organized by Separate Cinema and on display at Macon's Tubman African American Museum.

I readily admit I haven't supported the Tubman like I should. I enjoyed the Black Panthers exhibit several years ago, though captions on the photos would have gone a long way to educate this gringo, and went to see a good exhibit of giant portraits by a photographer whose name escapes me. I will definitely be there though, probably more than once, for this one.

I haven't seen all these movies, but love the ones I have, especially "Shaft" (of course) and just about anything featuring Pam Grier, particularly "Coffy" and "Foxy Brown." What makes them the most appealing, at least to me, is that they dramatized what was in the '70s a simmering rage and still managed, for the most part, to be tremendously entertaining.

Granted, there were missteps. Though I love listening to Rudy Ray Moore's recordings, especially his battle with Big Daddy Kane, "Dolemite" is just pure garbage. Not nearly as funny as many people claim, and for long stretches just plain stupid.

That said, this exhibit will showcase the vibrant posters from many great movies, some I've seen and more I will now rent. The only thing that would make this better would be to have some of the great music piped into the museum, maybe Marvin Gaye's "Trouble Man" or "Man Enough" by The Four Tops, but that's probably too much to ask.

No matter what, if you live anywhere near Macon, check this one out for sure.

Macon Film Fest

Also, starting tonight, is the Macon Georgia Film and Video Festival. If you can get past that rather ponderous name, you'll get three days of short films in competition and special screenings of movies related to Georgia or the South.

It all takes place at the still-fairly-newly renovated Capitol Theatre, which has given cinema in Macon a shot in the arm with its weekly indie night and weekend double features.

Here are some of the special screenings you can enjoy:

Tonight at 8, the Oscar-winning short film "The Accountant," and then at 9, "29th and Gay," the directorial debut of former Maconite and actress Carrie Preston which is about a man struggling to reconcile his homosexuality with his Hispanic heritage.

Friday night starting at 7 p.m. there will be films by Laurel and Hardy and Buster Keaton, with screenings of some of the 40 short films in competition in between. The nightcap comes at 10:30 with a screening of "Deliverance," for those of you who can take it.


Saturday will be a day of short films beginning at 2 p.m., followed by a screening of "Searching for the Wrong-Eyed Jesus," which follows alt-country oddball Jim White on a road trip through the South's back roads. Don't miss this one at 7:30 p.m.

Sunday, after a 5 p.m. awards ceremony, will be the real highlight, a 7 p.m. screening of John Huston's "Wise Blood," filmed right here in the Mactown. I first had to watch this one in a class at Catholic University, and it has stuck with me since. It's creepy, at times funny, and very entertaining.

Ticket prices vary depending on how many days you want to attend. For details, consult this morning's Telegraph or tomorrow's Out & About, or visit the film fest's Web site here.

Please, please, please support this new addition to our downtown. It's a great start, and the organizers have promised bigger and better things if it's a success. We owe them at least that much.

50 Cent goes to "The Dance"

Would you pay to watch 50 Cent get hit in the face a lot? Maybe. But, the more important question is, has Hollywood just completely run out of new ideas?

The latest disturbing trend is taking perfectly good documentaries and remaking them as fictional works. It didn't work with "Lords of Dogtown," which butchered the fun of out of "Dogtown and Z-Boys." This weekend, Antonio Banderas conspires to suck the life out of the vibrant "Mad Hot Ballroom" as he teaches misguided youths all they need is dance in "Take the Lead." A wretched idea from the start.

Now Nicolas Cage and 50 are linked to "The Dance," which was once a little-seen 2003 documentary about former prize fighter BIlly "the Kid" Roth, who volunteered his time coaching boxing in Louisiana's toughest prisons. 50 will play a lifer who Roth (Cage) thinks has the chops to be a champ.

I haven't seen "The Dance," but I love boxing movies. And if you ever thought it might be fun to spend a little time in prison in Louisiana, Netflix "The Farm," a look at life inside Angola thats as compelling as it is terrifying.

So why does this leave me cold? Not so much for this specific project. 50 is a surprisingly good actor, and I can take Cage in moderate doses. This could be great.

It's just the idea of taking great documentaries and, seeing how well they worked, simply stealing not just the idea, but the whole story. I'm sure a fictional take on "Murderball," possibly featuring Tom Cruise's return to a wheelchair, is in the works somewhere. "March of the Penguins" is most likely bound to become an animated tale featuring smart-alec penguins voiced by John Leguizamo and Chris Rock. I'm gonna stop now before I get queasy.

In much better news, all hail the mighty Lady Terrapins, pictured celebrating above as a conquered Dukie hangs her head in shame. I love it anytime Maryland beats Duke in anything, but to come from 13 down to win the title? Fear - and cheer - the Turtle, indeed.

Young Kristi Toliver is already a better clutch shooter than JJ Redick, and could definitely whip him in a boxing match. Man, would that be fun to watch.

And finally, Erik Bedard takes to the mound tonight against the Tampa Bay Devil Rays in a bid to keep the Orioles in first place for at least one more day. Keep hope alive.

James McAvoy, Keira Knightley, Joe Wright and "Atonement"

Though this was pegged as news about James McAvoy by the Hollywood Reporter, it will always be Keira Knightley's name that catches my eye. I just can't help it.

Either way, this is great news all around. McAvoy, aka Mr. Tumnus with those crazy legs in "The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe," has signed up to co-star with Knightley in an adaptation of Ian McEwan's "Atonement." Even better, director Joe Wright is back in charge. None of this even comes close to sucking.

I admit I haven't read many McEwan novels, and don't read as much of anything besides newspapers and magazines as I should, but I have read "Atonement," and it is great.

Scot McAvoy will play Robbie Turner, accused of raping a 16-year-old in 1930's Britain. Knightley will play one of the alleged victim's sisters, Briony, who makes the accusation, or Cecilia, as an adult. If I'm getting any of these details wrong, forgive me .. it's been a while since I read the book.

The best thing about all this is what Wright brought out of Knightley in his directing debut, "Pride & Prejudice," one of my five favorite movies of 2005. Under his guidance, the adorable girl from "Bend it Like Beckham" became an actress who should have won an Academy Award. Can't wait to see what they do next.

In even better news, to me at least, my Orioles remain in first place for at least one more day. After a rocky start by Rodrigo Lopez, the bullpen held and the O's got homers from Luis Matos, Melvin Mora, Miguel Tejada and Jeff Conine to beat the Devil Rays 9-6. And now we have a day off, for some reason. But the Lady Terrapins will wipe the floor with Duke tonight to win the national championship, so it's all good.

"Simpsons" movie

Some of you who went to see "Ice Age: The Meltdown" this weekend (and I'm pretty sure, looking at the box office numbers, I'm the only one in America who didn't) got big news about "The Simpsons" movie.

It's been rumored for years,and Harry Shearer recently let loose some tidbits about working on it, but the teaser trailer attached to some prints of "Meltdown" finally confirms it will be released July 7, 2007. It was shown again during sunday night's episode, and you can see it by clicking on "The Simpsons" above.

I've been wary of this project because, although I love "The Simpsons" (and my DVD collection can prove it), I'm just not sure there's just enough juice in the tank to fill a two-hour movie. This season, it often seems they can't come up with an idea good enough to sustain a half hour (though it was great to see Ricky Gervais recently.)

For the moment, though, I'm just pretty geeked up about the whole thing, just as I am about opening day for my beloved Orioles.


Here's a synopsis for the one other person who might have missed it: Playing off the hype for "Superman Returns," we slowly zoom in on a giant S, eventually finding out its on Homer's T-shirt. Sitting in his familiar spot on the couch, he says "I forgot what I was supposed to say," then the narrator intones "'The Simpsons Movie,' coming to the screen, July 27, 2007."

"Uh, oh," said Homer, "we better get started."

Indeed. Nothing too revealing except the date, but pretty funny stuff. Though I'm rapidly exceeding the target demographic for animated TV shows, like most white males, I just can't get enough of them. My current fav is the reincarnated "Family Guy," but I'll always have love for "The Simpsons." Let's just hope they don't somehow screw this up.

In slightly tangential news, my brother, a devoted Maakies fan as we all should be, reported (well, it was news to me, anyway) that Tony Millionaire is working on bringing Drinky Crow and his other creations to TV's "Adult Swim."

Maakies is just about the funniest thing I've ever seen in a comic strip, but far too profane to share in this site which is linked from a family newspaper like The Telegraph. But, if your sensibility can take it, click here and enjoy.

And, remember, Baltimore kicks off the season today at 1 p.m. with Rodrigo Lopez facing the Tampa Bay Devil Rays. Play ball.

Slither

Nathan Fillion is at a crossroads, but whichever way he turns should be great.

Known to Joss Whedon fans everywhere first as Caleb on "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and later used much better as Capt. Mal Reynolds on "Firefly" and in "Serenity," he has the chops to play the lead in first-rate science fiction. And now, in the blissfully gross and almost always funny "Slither," he proves he has the facial expressions down for a Bruce Campbell quality B-movie career.

Either way, he's reached the point now where I'll go see just about anything with his name attached to it.

As for "Slither," knowing that it was directed by James Gunn, who perfected his ability to make you squirm and laugh at the same time while helping create gems like "Sgt. Kabukiman" and "Citizen Toxie" for Troma, I had high hopes going in. And, this time at least, I wasn't the least bit disappointed.

The plot is fairly standard B-movie fare: A meteor crashes to Earth, unleashing a being that, instead of procreating in any standard sense, breaks up into little slug-like creatures that infect most of the people they encounter, and impregnate a few to keep the creatures spreading. If you're not laughing already, this probably isn't for you, but it certainly was for me.

What sets "Slither" apart is the stars and the dialogue. It starts with Fillion, who as the sheriff of the Southern town of Wheelsy (actually Vancouver, Canada, apparently) manages to look like he's in on the joke from the beginning as things fall apart rapidly around him. Cutie Elizabeth Banks is also great as the requisite leading lady who, when forced to, can hold her own against an army of mutants, always a good skill to have in situations like this.

In the supporting cast, you'll find many familiar faces, starting with longtime heavy Michael Rooker. Ever since he played "Henry the Serial Killer," he's always been able to mine the darkly comic side of evil, and I knew right away he would be the first one infected. Jack MacReady, known to "Gilmore Girls" fans as Mitchum Huntzberger, is also hilarious, and uses more f-bombs and other assorted vulgarities than I've heard used so well in a very long time.

It wasn't until about halfway into this crazy mess, when the uninfected have formed a posse to track down Rooker and his mutants, that it hit me just how profane the script is. I said hit me, mind you, not offend me. How would you react if creepy sluglike creatures were infecting everyone you know? Well, I would probably let a profanity or three fly.

The very funny dialogue at first reminded me of Kevin Smith, but then Roddy Doyle back from his "Barrytown Trilogy" days. His characters used the f-word freely and naturally in discourse, as the characters in "Slither" do.

It's the humor that makes the grossness (and believe me, you will squirm) go down a lot easier. It's what missing from the spate of slasher flicks that have invaded movie houses lately, and it's what worked best for me.

I give "Slither" a solid B in every sense, a letter Gunn, Fillion and all their co-conspirators can wear with pride.

ATL

How is T.I.'s rap career gonna survive when the world finds out he's just a big softie?

When the records sound as great as his (though I haven't purchased "King" yet), he's probably built enough of a rep to thrive despite this only mildy disappointing flick.

For anyone who doesn't know, he plays Rashad, supposedly a 17-year-old high school student forced to look out for his little brother after their parents died in a car crash. Strike 1: Despite his small stature, T.I., at 25 or so in real life, makes Luke Perry's turn on "Beverly Hills 90210" look hyperrealistic. It just doesn't work.

Strike 2: Director Chris Robinson just can't decide what story he wants to tell here. Keep up if you can. There's the aforementioned story of Rashad trying to keep his little brother Ant (Evan Ross) from becoming a dope boy; Rashad's romance with "New New" (Lauren London), a rich girl who's slumming on the other side of town; Rashad's friend Esquire (Jackie Long), who is struggling to reconcile his desire to go to an Ivy League college without abandoning the hood; and finally what should have been the main focus, four friends growing up together in Atlanta's Mechanicsville hood and hanging out at the Cascade roller rink. Take a second to catch your breath, then we'll continue.

Had Robinson and screenwriters Antwone Fisher and Tina Gordon Chism chosen to stick to this last story, I think I would have been more interested. The roller rink scenes are the most electric in the movie, full of colorful characters and sleek camera work that fit Robinson's strengths as a music video director. I know we saw that before in "Roll Bounce" (which I enjoyed more than this one), but it was the most interesting story line in "ATL."

The story of Ant's flirtation with the streets and working for drug-dealing heavy Antwan "Big Boi" Patton is also fairly well told, though even surrounded by his own pitbulls, Patton just isn't all that menacing. Still, it has an urgency to it that is lacking in other parts of the movie.

Where it really drags is when T.I. and London are on screen together. Bottom line, neither of them can act very well at all, especially T.I. The trademark of his burgeoning career as a thespian thus far seems to be squinting, his not-so-subtle way of telling the audience he is either angry, sad, or just annoyed, much as I was as the movie started to drag in the middle.

As this remarkably boring story line unfolded, I couldn't help but think about the memo sent out by the company General Growth, which owns several Atlanta malls, warning theater operators that the movie may cause "behavioral problems" in audience members. I had to stop from laughing out loud as stretches of "ATL" that were milder than the most vanilla romantic comedy unfolded in front of me. For the record, none of the 10 or so people in attendance Saturday at noon down here in Macon appeared to be acting up, though one person did forget to turn off the cell phone.

In the end, I was disappointed with "ATL" mostly for what it could have been with a little more focus and better stars.

To their credit, they gave Atlanta more soul than I've been able to find in it. Ever since I moved down here, I've complained that I can't get a feel for Atlanta because everyone there (like me) is from somewhere else. Maybe I never will, but I'm gonna try.

As for T.I., please, please, please don't quit your day job. As I've said here before, your "Urban Legend" album is one of my favorites, so please just stick what to you do best.

Jeffrey Tambor's new gig

I guess you could call this the first "Arrested Development" alumni update.

Just after that series got what seems to be its final order to cease and desist, Jeffrey Tambor has been cast in the NBC comedy pilot "Twenty Good Years," according to the always-reliable Hollywood Reporter.

Tambor will co-star with John Lithgow in the project about two men in their 50s who experience personal epiphanies and decide to make the most of their next 20 years. The comedy was penned by Michael Leeson, who is executive producing the pilot along with Tom Werner, Eric Gold, Jimmy Miller and Mike Clements.

I don't watch much sitcom TV these days beyond "My Name is Earl" and "Everybody Hates Chris," but this sounds like it could be fun. I've loved Tambor's deadpan delivery ever since his run on "The Larry Sanders Show," and Lithgow is solid. It will be interesting to see how they play off each other.

Though the ages are different, this reminds me of the great BBC sitcom "Waiting for God." It used to run on PBS' British night, and starred Stephanie Cole and Graham Crowden as nursing home residents struggling to keep their spirits up. Sounds like a bit of a drag, I know, but trust me, it's wickedly funny.

Plus, on a tangent, there's just three days until opening day! If you want some enjoyable reading, check out new Oriole Kevin Millar's diary. Among the latest gems is that, having already convinced pitching coach Leo Mazzone to get a tattoo, manager Sam Perlozzo is next on his list. I sure do like him a lot more than Sammy Sosa.

R.I.P "Arrested Development"?

There are few current TV shows I love more than "Arrested Development."

"The Sopranos"? Sure, when they bother to make new shows. "Gilmore Girls"? Definitely.

But there's something about "Arrested Development" that I just loved, which makes this news just painful.

For months there were rumors that Showtime was going to rescue the show after Fox pulled the plug, but Wednesday, creator Mitchell Hurwitz said he would no longer continue with the series. This likely means the end is here.

This is all the more frustrating because Twentieth Century Fox and Showtime were set to announce a deal for 26 episodes to run on the cable network starting next year.

News like this makes me angry in many ways, but not at Hurwitz. The way he was jerked around by Fox, with the show being preempted by baseball, football and anything else the network could find. was inexcusable. I can't blame him for being fed up.

"The fans have been so ardent in their devotion and in return ... I've given everything I can to the show in order to try to live up to their expectations," Hurwitz told Daily Variety on Monday. "I finally reached a point where I felt I couldn't continue to deliver that on a weekly basis."

A sad day indeed.

Why do I love "Arrested Development" so much? For many reasons, from the great cast and deadly funny writing, to the pacing that kept us unsure what would happen next. But most of all, I think I saw in the Bluths the dark side of all of us, how we would behave if we could finally get rid of our pesky consciences for good and do exactly what we wanted to all the time.

There is one small glimmer of hope. Hurwitz has said he will hold off on a final decision to let Fox and Showtime negotiate the final details. Keep your fingers crossed, fans.

And remember, next week brings the start of another baseball season, meaning that for at least one day and by sheer benefit of alphabetical order, my beloved Orioles will be in first place.

Just say no to "Gnomeo"

We knew there would be casualties when Disney acquired Pixar, but who imagined the first one would be Sir Elton John.

John, who with Tim Rice penned the great music for Disney's "Lion King," had pitched what can generously be called an oddity to the giant mouse, and was well on his way to production until the rodent apparently spit it up.

His creation, entitled "Gnomeo & Juliet," was to be an animated musical based - of course - on the bard's tragic romance and featuring - of course -little animated people in the main roles. Sound bizarre? Well, I thought so too until I read about a musical version of "Lord of the Rings" being staged in Toronto. Good grief.

On Monday, Disney abruptly announced that "Gnomeo" is no longer in production at the studio. This even after Sir Elton appeared at the Walt Disney Studios Showcase in September to promote the film and marked the occasion by playing "Crocodile Rock" on a trademark red piano.

All of this info, by the way, comes from the Hollywood Reporter via Entertainment Weekly.

On my end, I can't say this is anything but good news. Though I have loved many Disney animated films over the years, my favorites being "Pete's Dragon" and "Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs," Pixar is clearly miles ahead of the curve in both creativity and technical prowess.

Logically, the more Disney backs Pixar's projects, the more often we will get them. Coming soon is "Cars," which looks fairly promising. Even better is the news that "Incredibles" director has been recruited to direct the upcoming "Ratatouille," a trippy-sounding tale about a mouse who wants to be a gourmet chef, I believe. All good stuff.

As for Sir Elton, well, I think his pocket book can take the hit.

Tom Hanks and Starbucks vs. America

This caught my eye today as possibly the worst idea for a movie ever. And believe me, there has been plenty of competition.

According to the always reliable Hollywood Reporter, Tom Hanks is attached to star in "How Starbucks Saved My Life," a fiction book proposal by Michael Gates Gill that was sold to Universal. Gus Van Sant is in negotiations to direct.

The story centers on an older ad exec who loses his job and family and has to go to work at Starbucks to pay the bills. He befriends the young manager and learns about life and love.

As I read this early this morning, I had the same reaction as that adorable Christine Taylor when she tells hubby Ben Stiller, in "Dodgeball," that she just threw up in her own mouth.

Although the contrarian in me has always rooted against Tom Hanks, I used to have loads of love for Gus Van Sant. His "Elephant," an elegaic look at a Columbine-type situation with sparse but very effective dialogue, is close to a masterpiece. But he's also capable of making garbage like "Finding Forrester" and that inexcusable shot-for-shot remake of "Psycho".

As for Hanks, I really can't explain it. Maybe it was when people started calling him the next Jimmy Stewart. I love Jimmy Stewart, so why would I want to replace him? The only movies I can recall unconditionally liking Hanks in were "Big" and "Toy Story." But don't get me started on "Forrest Gump" ...

As an aside, I had long ago decided not to see the "Da Vinci Code," but have recently started to waver. I've never been one in favor of boycotting movies, even one with a premise as revolting as this one. And I just have unconditional love for Audrey Tautou and Jean Reno.

As for "Starbucks," someone explain to me why anyone would want to see this. To be told by genius-turned-hack Van Sant that there are life secrets to learn from ditching your chosen career path to toil for peanuts in a coffee shop? To see this formerly great director make, what will have to be, essentially a two-hour advertisement for the corporation least likely to need one?

Maybe its just me. I'm already a fairly cynical person, and I just get grumpier when I write early in the morning. That said, this just sounds plain awful, no matter what time it is.

Anticipating "ATL"

I was really excited about this one until I saw that rather ridiculous three-letter title. Let's hope the movie itself, opening Friday, delivers a lot more.

From looking at the trailer, I think it can. With rapper T.I. as its primary star, it appears to be boys in a different hood, which might be a good thing.

You can say many things about T.I., but you can't say he's not sure of himself. His modestly titled "Urban Legend," along with being one of the best rap albums of the last five years, is an exemplary exercise in ego. I'll be interested to see if he can take that dynamism onto the big screen.

According to the press release sent to Telegraph entertainment writer Maggie Large last year, T.I. was filming a "hip-hop and roller skating" movie. Well, in reading the synopsis on the Warner Bros. site and watching the trailer, it seems writer Antwone Fisher and director Chris Robinson have since decided to toughen things up.

In a nutshell, the plot centers on T.I.'s Rashad, a 17-year-old who is head of the household and trying to keep his younger brother Ant (Evan Ross) from joining the local drug trade. Trying to lure our young lad to the dark side is Antwan "Big Boi" Patton, who apparently brought along some of his own pit bulls to add menace to his presence. Patton and Outkast partner Andre Benjamin will finally see their own movie, "Idlewild," released this summer (assuming there are no further delays.)

Tacked on to this rather familiar plot is a Romeo and Juliet-style romance with foxy newcomer Lauren London, who crosses over from the right side of the tracks to slum with her new man T.I., much to the chagrin of her father.

I'm not sure why, but I'm really holding out hope for this one. I guess it's mostly because since moving down here, I've fallen hard for Southern hip-hop, and though Scarface and UGK are still the kings in my mind, T.I. is definitely rising fast.

Anyways, check out the trailer and decide for yourself here.

Inside Man

I never thought I would see the day that Spike Lee, of all people, would take NYC for granted.

I suppose we should thank him for actually shooting in the city instead of, as they did with the even worse "16 Blocks," shoot in Montreal and then insult us by calling it New York.

But that's about all I can give him credit for with "Inside Man." From there it's an empty flick from start to finish, bereft of any of the potent issues that drove his best films or any of the dramatic tension needed to sustain a good heist flick.

In case you've somehow missed the commercials, here's what setup there is: Clive Owen and co-conspirators holdup a crowded bank in downtown New York, taking all the customers and employees and customers hostage. Denzel Washington and his partner Chiwetel Ejiofor are assigned the task of bringing this to an end without any bloodshed.

A promising enough premise, I guess, but the first thing we see is Clive Owen talking into the camera to tell us how fiendishly clever his plan is. Without revealing what it is, I'll just tell you they're in the bank within 5 minutes. No planning, no scheming, nothing that I like to see in a great heist flick. If you want to see one, Netflix "The Great Train Robbery."

On top of this enters Jodie Foster to do, well, I'm still not sure what. It turns out that bank bigwig Christopher Plummer, a welcome sight even in fare as slight as this, has something he doesn't want anyone to find out about, and he hires her to keep it secret. And, it is a serious issue, the kind Spike used to enjoy exploring instead of, as he does here, just letting it hang there, an unexamined, seemingly tacked on plot point. Worse, the plot makes next to no sense at all.

What made it worse for me was that, throughout, there were signs of the old Spike I know and still love. The bank customers and beat cops look and talk like the kind of people you might actually meet in New York, and there is some choice humor in their encounters.

One other scene that struck me was when Owen takes a break from trying to be menacing to talk to his youngest captive, a youngblood of about 10 who already talks like he's 20. As the kid's talking tough, Owen takes a look at the game on his PSP, an ultraviolent street shoot-em-up. As our young friend explains that you get points for selling crack and jacking cars, we see, on the game screen, someone's head being blown off and the phrase "Take dat, nigga" written on top.

It's jarring and more than a little uncomfortable. It's also the kind of thought-provoking scene Spike used to deliver with regularity.

Maybe this was just the wrong week for me to see any Hollywood movie that's supposedly about cops, given what happened this week in the real world of Macon, Ga.

In an early-morning drug raid on a house a couple of miles from mine, a sheriff's deputy was fatally shot. In the aftermath, two young men, among five arrested, have been charged as the trigger men, and may now face the death penalty.

It's the kind of situation where nobody can possibly win, the kind where only a director like Spike Lee would even try to look for answers. Or at least he used to, before he lost his nerve and decided to sell us garbage like "Inside Man."

The Sons of Buena Vista

There are few documentaries I have enjoyed more than "Buena Vista Social Club," Wim Wenders' welcome journey into the world of Cuban music.

Along with great songs, what really made it work was the cast of colorful characters, including Ibrahim Ferrer, Compay Segundo and Eliades Ochoa, who were more interesting than most fictional creations we see on the big screen.

One of these musical giants, composer and performer Pio Leyva, shown above, is back as the tour guide for an upcoming sequel of sorts, "The Sons of Buena Vista." Described as a docudrama, it introduces us to the next generation of Cuban musicians on the rise.

Though Wenders is along this time as a producer, the movie will be directed by German Kral, an Argentinian whose IMDB credits feature movies I had never heard of. "Sons" has been picked up for North American distribution by Cinema Libre Studio, which plans to release it sometime this summer.

On a sad note, I just discovered Leyva died yesterday of a heart attack, so take this promising flick as a sort of parting gift from him to music and movie lovers everywhere.

Rap Sheet: Hip-hop and the Cops

This promises to be one of the least objective, but possibly most entertaining, doco features in years. And, given the subject matter, one that's almost certainly going straight to DVD.

Tyro documaker Don Sikorski has completed "Rap Sheet: Hip-hop and the Cops," which shows that law enforcement has been compiling secret dossiers on hundreds of hip-hop artists and execs for years.

Duh, you say? Of course the cops hate on rap artists, and many rap artists bring on that hate through their actions, but it's a vicious circle worth investigating anyway.

To give credit where it's due, much of this comes from Variety.

The film will feature interviews with artists including Russell Simmons, Kanye West, Busta Rhymes, Ja Rule, Snoop Dogg and Damon Dash about the so-called hip-hop cops. There also are performances by Eminem, Fat Joe, Jadakiss and Lloyd Banks of G-Unit, among others, in case the interviews start to drag. Not a marquee lineup, especially since Banks, in my opinion, just sucks.

It features NYPD surveillance footage obtained by Sikorski, who received his first break in researching the film when Miami police responded to a request he made through the Freedom of Information Act, a tool I never managed to master in my brief career as an actual reporter.

Other law-enforcement authorities involved in the surveillance activities include the FBI and LAPD, along with a nationwide task force set up by the Drug Enforcement Agency, according to the film.

I love conspiracies because, as I'm sure this film will once again prove, they usually turn out to be true.

And while we're at it, if there are such things as "Hip-hop cops," shouldn't their first order of business be finding out who killed Tupac and Biggie?

Pedro Almodovar back in a big way

In typical Hollywood hyperbole, about a year ago Sony Pictures Classics announced that 2006 would be the "year of Almodovar." While that probably won't happen, what will should be a blast.

Almodovar's upcoming movie, "Volver," due for a June release in America, will very likely be added to the competition roster for the Cannes Film Festival.

While his recent movies have been more serious and, it must be said, very gay, this looks like a return to the form of his earlier "female comedies" such as "Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown." I can't wait.

It will also bring back two of Almodovar's best leading ladies, the always stunning Penelope Cruz and his best discovery, comic genius Carmen Maura.

Set in Madrid's working class neighborhoods, the movie is described by SPC as the story of "three generations of women who survive wind, fire and even death, thanks to audacity, goodness and a limitless vitality." The film will be a "meeting of 'Mildred Pierce' (Michael Curtiz) and 'Arsenic and Old Lace' (Frank Capra), combined with the surrealistic naturalism of Almodovar's fourth film, '¿Qué he hecho yo para merecer esto!!' (What Have I Done to Deserve This?)."

Not one word of this is bad news. When he wants to be, Almodovar can be a very funny guy, and for a very gay guy he knows a lot about women and how to write and direct for them. While I enjoyed "Bad Education," a return to comedies like "Women on the Verge" will be welcome.

And it just keeps getting better. If you live in one of our bigger cities, you will, come April, be treated to an Almodovar retrospective, featuring new and improved prints of the following eight films: "Law of Desire," "Matador," "Women on the Verge," "Flower of My Secret," "Live Flesh," "All About My Mother," "Talk to Her" and "Bad Education." I like all of these, and absolutely adore "Matador" and "Live Flesh."

What better way could there be to spend a spring day then watching a great Almodovar film then an Atlanta Braves game? For me, there certainly aren't many.

From "Murderball" to "The Every Boy"

I'd have to list "Murderball" as my nicest movie surprise of 2005.

My dad and I were in Atlanta with nothing else to do, so we decided to check out this engaging documentary about quad rugby. I had no idea that quadraplegics played anything resembling rugby, or that their story could be so compelling.

The reason it works so well is a refreshing lack of sentimentality and a built-in, real-life "Rocky"esque saga about the summer paralympic games. If you haven't seen it yet, I'd recommend renting the DVD, for both the movie and the laugh-out-loud extra featuring the movie's stars taking on the "Jackass" crew in a rugby game.

Now comes news about one of the directors of "Murderball" that just makes me smile.

According to Variety, Dana Adam Shapiro has signed with Paramount to adapt and direct "The Every Boy," based on his debut novel of the same name, and set it up with Brad Pitt's company Plan B to produce.

I was unfamiliar with the book, so I peeped this summation at publisher Houghton-Mifflin:

"A fifteen-year-old boy dies mysteriously, leaving behind a secret ledger filled with his darkly comic confessions. Whether fantasizing about being a minority, breaking into his neighbors’ homes, or gunning down an exotic bird, Henry Every’s wayward quest for betterment sometimes bordered on the criminal. Alone now in their suburban house, his father pores over the ledger in a final attempt to connect with the boy he never really knew - and, more urgently, to figure out how he died. As Harlan Every learns the truth about his son’s many misadventures and transgressions, he also discovers the part he unwittingly played in Henry’s tragic death and the real reason his wife walked out years ago. The story grows into two parallel love stories - one past, one present - with drastically different outcomes.

Whew. Sounds like a very ambitious first novel, but a great idea for a story. I love movies about the power of imagination, like "Big Fish" and "Everything is Illuminated," so this sounds right up my alley. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got some reading to do.

Paul Mooney

Of all the great things Dave Chappelle has accomplished (and yes, there is more than one), bringing Paul Mooney to the world may have been the greatest one.

If you watched "Chappelle's Show," you know that Mooney appeared in two incarnations: first as himself, in the great "Ask Paul Mooney" segments, and later in the even better sketches as Negrodamus.

When I first saw him I had never heard of him, but I was instantly intrigued. Then, while shopping at the fabulous Agora in Athens, I found a used copy of his album "Race" on cassette. It's not the kind of thing you want to listen to on a crowded street, but as long there aren't a lot of easily offended people within earshot, Mooney's standup is fearless, very foul and often very funny.

Think of how far Chappelle pushed the envelope on his show, and then just keep going, going and going. Eventually, if you go far enough, you'll reach the end of the fringe and meet Mr. Mooney. And he'll probably have something insulting to say to you.

Mooney has been observing the role of race in America for more than 30 years now both on stage and as a writer for Richard Pryor and others. Remember how Pryor shocked the world with his liberal use of the "n-word" on stage? Mooney is 10 times more in your face and, in my opinion, even funnier.

The comedian I would most closely associate him with is the late Bill Hicks, as they both spared noone and nothing in their monologues.

If your sensibility can take it, Mooney's "Analyzing White America," a standup performance, is out Tuesday on DVD and is available for only $9.99 at Amazon. Check it out.

V for Vendetta

Is it OK to laugh as you're watching the British Parliament building being blown to smithereens? It's been about a half hour or so since I did (on screen, of course), and I still can't decide.

In my mind, at least, that's what the Wachowski brothers, in cahoots with first-time director James McTeigue, must have been going for with "V for Vendetta." A beautifully constructed movie that, if you think about it too much, can be deeply disturbing, but still immensely entertaining.

"V" was originally a graphic novel by Alan Moore written during the days of Margaret Thatcher. Moore, as many Britons at the time, must have been a very angry, yet creative, young man. Instead of blowing up the Parliament building or anything quite that dramatic, he created a fantasy world and a fantastic hero to deliver vengeance for him.

As it was a fantasy, he took the worst impulses of Thatcher's regime and played them to the hilt, creating a fascist nightmare that holds the people in an iron fist.

It's always tempting to read too much into what is essentially a big ball of popcorn, albeit one peppered with powerful ideas. I'd advise against it as you go into "V." While our current leader definitely is more than a tad power-mad, he is not a fascist, and if you really thought the Wachowskis were trying to paint him as one, you must have, somewhere deep inside, thought that yourself already. Besides, as fascists go, John Hurt as the high chancellor Sutler is just scary as hell.

But enough on that; how's the movie? For one where you're asked to identify with a hero who is a terrorist, remarkably good. It flows along smoothly as we learn why the masked man played by "Matrix" alum Hugo Weaving is so angry at his government, and as he manipulates young Evy Hammond, a fierce Natalie Portman, in his plot.

Portman is solid, but it's Weaving that manages to sell us on this oddity, spouting often ludicrous lines like "ideas are bulletproof" with a Shakespearean ease. You get the impression he must have been smirking under that mask the whole time, but we never get to find out.

What keeps things running smoothly is that the Wachowskis and McTeigue held back on much of the theatrics that marred the second and third "Matrix" movies. After we're introduced to V and his reluctant partner, it develops into what's almost a police procedural in a parallel universe, with the always reliable Stephen Rea in pursuit of V and his growing army of anarchists.

In the end, "V" accomplished what a lot of the best pop art does - create an outlet for our darkest urges so we don't act on them ourselves. It's why I fell in love with punk music and, now, rap music, genres in arms that let you feel you're acting out while you're actually just being entertained. What more can you ask for?

Big news on Tyler Perry

How can Howard Stern call himself the king of all media with a straight face? Especially when compared to the seemingly omnipotent and still rising Tyler Perry.

Today from Lionsgate comes word on Perry's next big-screen project, "Daddy's Little Girl." It's described as a reverse Cinderella ("Cinderfella") tale about a young, beautiful, successful female attorney who falls in love with a janitor and single father of three daughters. Despite strong objections from the attorney's father, love, of course, triumphs in the end.

Without the presence of Perry himself I'd run screaming from such a story, but with him in control I'll keep the faith. Even though, horror of all horrors, pistol-packing grannie Madea apparently won't be making an appearance in this new flick.

The film has been fast-tracked for a June start and like "Madea's Family Reunion" and "Diary of a Mad Black Woman" is set for a February release.

Never one to stop and smell the roses, Perry is also busy on other fronts. Next month, he will release his first book, "Don't Make a Black Woman Take Off Her Earrings: Madea's Uninhibited Commentaries on Life and Love." Brace for the requisite Oprah onslaught, but at least this should be one she shouldn't have to apologize for.

Perry has also recently inked a deal to distribute his TV series "House of Payne" in first-run syndication.

Whew. I get tired just thinking about all that, but it should be fun.

Lionsgate is enjoying a well-deserved payoff from its realization that black people don't always have to play pushers and hos. Coming at the end of April is "Akeelah and the Bee," starring the much-missed Laurence Fishburne as a teacher who inspires a promising young girl to compete in the National Spelling Bee.

I love the drama of a good spelling bee, and the trailer for this one looks pretty good to me. Decide for yourself here.

Paul Haggis and George Bush

Is Paul Haggis intent on becoming the next Michael Moore? Unfortunately, it certainly appears so.

Where Haggis once had his Hilary, he just might now have his Hillary. And just as Moore took on George W. Bush for the war on terror, Haggis is set to travel down this same tired path.

According to my favorite daily newspaper, The Hollywood Reporter, Haggis is in final negotiations to direct and produce "Against All Enemies" for Columbia Pictures.

To quote THR, “Based on Richard A. Clarke's best-selling memoir, "Enemies" chronicles how the Bush administration handled the al-Qaida threat before and after the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks. Clarke, a former U.S. terrorism czar, offers the ultimate insider's account into the nation's security apparatus, featuring a cast of power brokers that includes President Bush, Condoleezza Rice, Donald Rumsfeld and Clarke.”

So why does this news leave me at least a little bit queasy? First of all, because Haggis is a heavy-handed director who enjoys preaching much more than entertaining. He almost managed to drain the life out of "Million Dollar Baby," based on a short story by the great boxing writer F.X.Toole, and he managed to render "Crash" unwatchable.

Second, when has Hollywood ever had a positive impact on a presidential election? Michael Moore couldn't do it in 2004, and Warren Beatty certainly couldn't do it when he tried to foist George McGovern on the world. Ironically, the only president truly driven to the White House through Hollywood was Ronald Reagan, a man most of these high-minded cineastes reviled.

About the only fun in this is speculating who might get to play the power players. Timothy Bottoms of "The Last Picture Show" would make a great Bush, as he already did on the short-lived but very funny Comedy Central show "That's My Bush."

Sam Neill would do fine as the crusading Clarke, but even more fun would be seeing Paul Giamatti transform himself into Dick Cheney or maybe Thandie Newton minxing things up as Condy Rice.

You see, if you try hard enough, you can find a silver lining in anything.

The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada

After having his mummified corpse dragged through the desert by a seriously sadistic Tommy Lee Jones, it looks like Melquiades Estrada will have a short life on Middle Georgia movie screens.

I'm not certain since I like to sit in about the fifth row and didn't look behind me, but I think I was the only person who had to sit through this cinematic version of water torture Sunday at noon at the AmStar.

Tommy Lee Jones could have learned something about elementary filmmaking from the recent Hollywood issue of Vanity Fair. Along with Keira Knightley and Scarlett Johannson in the buff on the cover, a definite plus, there's an article inside about the making of "Reds," Warren Beatty's great ode to Communism.

After recruiting historian Trevor Griffiths to help with the script, Beatty rejected his first draft as being "humorless," a sensation I felt watching "Three Burials."

Granted, it's a fairly somber story, that of cowboy Jones, whose mexican compadre on the range is accidentally killed by border guard Barry Pepper. We find out that Pepper is the bad guy because, of course, he enjoys beating up people trying to cross the border illegally. Through it all, the only time I laughed was at that joke about the old blind guy, which is, of course, in the trailer.

It doesn't help that much of the story involves Jones dragging Pepper's character and his dead buddy through the desert to his burial site - for what seemed like at least five hours. In all this time, you would think maybe he was teaching Pepper something, but as far as I could tell he just wanted to torture him and us.

After about 45 minutes of the three of them traveling through the desert, my mind began to drift like Skip Caray's in about the sixth inning or so of a lopsided Braves game.

I thought how nice it was to see Melissa Leo again (as a waitress of rather loose morals,) and how she had starred in my two favorite, back-to-back episodes of "Homicide": the one where she goes home to the Eastern Shore only to find a waterman she knows involved in a killing, and the one where Pembleton (the great Andre Braugher) says as a Catholic he can't attend the funeral of a comrade who committed suicide. Simply two of the best hours of television ever made.

I also thought how it was nice to hear that cheatin' hotel song by Hank Jr. about a half hour earlier, and how I should listen to that album tonight. I wondered why, if all Barry Pepper's character wanted to do was beat up on people of color, he couldn't have just stayed in his hometown of Cincinnati and become a cop.

And I thought that Pepper, who was great in Spike Lee's underrated "25th Hour," deserves much, much better than this fairly awful movie.

Tristram Shandy: A Cock and Bull Story

Is Gillian Anderson that one from "Baywatch"?
- One of Steve Coogan's agents in "Tristram Shandy"

Is there such a thing as a sophisticated dick joke? Thankfully, Michael Winterbottom and his co-conspirators on this little oddity think there are several, most of them very, very funny.

Before I go any further, let me say that this is being shown Sunday, April 9, by the Macon Film Guild, a real coup since it is still in theaters in Atlanta.

I swore off the conceit at the center of "Tristram Shandy," the idea of a movie about the making of a movie, five years ago after suffering through the usually reliable David Mamet's horrible "State and Main." I'm glad I finally came back.

What makes "Tristram" work so much better than that ensemble disaster is Steve Coogan, who is all misguided ego played just to, but not over, the top. I would have hated him if I weren't laughing so hard.

The fictional production here is a movie of the novel "The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy" by Laurence Sterne, described in the flick as "unfilmable" and "postmodern before there was even any modernism." Jeremy Northam stands in for Winterbottom as the fictional director, and look out for great cameos from Gillian Anderson, Stephen Fry and a host of other British actors I'm not sophisticated enough to identify.

Best of all, though, is the dynamic between Coogan and his "co-lead" in the production, played gamely by Rob Brydon. The interplay between the two of them as it slowly dawns on Coogan that he has the title role but the much smaller part is simply sublime. The best is a running gag about the height of Coogan's heels so he can appear higher in "stature" than Brydon.

If you saw Coogan's vignette with Alfred Molina in Jim Jarmusch's "Coffee and Cigarettes," you know how good he is at playing the jerk. That was just a sample of this blusterous buffet.

As I warned, some of the humor is fairly crude, but it's all ribald rather than blue (I guarantee you'll gasp early on when a young man has a rather unfortunate encounter with a falling window.)

Looking at Winterbottom's filmography on IMDB reveals he likes to move from genre to genre, and I'm ashamed to say the only other of his films I have seen is "24 Hour Party People." Also starring Coogan and, I believe, Brydon, it's an electric look at Manchester's brief moment at the center of the musical universe. I've already rearranged my Netflix queue to see some more of his work.

I'll close with a plea for peace. We at The Telegraph couldn't help but notice, as I'm sure many other people did, that the Capitol Theatre scooped the Film Guild by a couple of weeks in showing "The Squid and the Whale," easily one of my favorite films of 2005.

In the vein of Best Picture winner "Crash," a movie I more than mildly detested, can't we all just get along?

There's more than enough good movies to go around. Peace out.

Mos Def, Sophie Okonedo and the Black Panthers

Halfway through the rather wretched "16 Blocks," I couldn't help but start thinking how great it would be if Mos Def got to play the lead role in a good movie. Apparently, I've finally mastered the fine art of mind control.

Word comes today from the Hollywood Reporter that Mos Def and the simply stunning Sophie Okonedo from "Hotel Rwanda" are in final negotiations to co-star in the indie period drama "Stringbean and Marcus," which was written and will be directed by first-time feature helmer Tanya Hamilton.

The film takes place in 1978 and focuses on the broken love affair between two former Black Panther Party members (Mos Def and Okonedo) and is told through the eyes of an adolescent girl. "It's not so much about the idea of race," Hamilton said. "I just wanted to show this world of ordinary people living under extraordinary circumstances, trying to outrun this past they all have."

That's about all we know right now, but I'm still jazzed. The Panthers have been popping up in the news a lot lately, mostly thanks to Fred Hampton Jr. He had the only truly dischordant moment in "Dave Chappelle's Block Party" when he took the stage to rant about political prisoners, and then the New York Times featured a story about his efforts to get a Chicago street named for his father, slain Panther leader Chairman Fred Hampton.

Politics aside, it's a fascinating subject with two top-tier actors attached. I've loved Mos ever since seeing him in Suzan-Lori Parks' disappointing play "Top Dog/Underdog," and Okonedo burned up the screen in "Dirty Pretty Things".

Good news indeed

Hairspray

News like this just makes my heart sink.

Being a devoted lover of what was once known as Charm City, I also almost always adore John Waters. Though it's far from his grossest or most spirited work, "Hairspray" has remained my favorite of his films. But even I have to wonder, how many lives can it have?

Along with the classic movie, there is the megahit musical, which I had the pleasure of seeing on Broadway. No one will ever be able to replace Divine, but Harvey Feirstein did a fine job standing in as Edna Turnblad.

Now, however, in the vein of "The Producers," "Hairspray" is getting a third life, as a movie version of the musical (is your head spinning too, or is it just me?)

The bad, no, I mean horrendous, news is that, according to Variety, John Travolta is set to play our beloved Edna. Why is this so bad? Tell me one time in the last 20 years or so that John Travolta has been remotely funny. I don't even count "Get Shorty," which I found to be mildly amusing at best.

Even worse is the news that additional singing and dancing scenes will be added to beef up Travolta's character. Heresy. My view of the world may be warped, but I consider Waters' vision of "Hairspray" to be a small classic, not to be tampered with by charlatans. I just hope he got a fat check for all this.

The news from Variety, however, wasn't all bad. Queen Latifah has apparently signed on to play Motor Mouth Maybelle, the dance show host turned civil rights activist played in the movie by Ruth Brown. Latifah was great in "Chicago," and she has just the right spirit to pull this off.

Even better is that Marc Shaiman and Scott Wittman, who wrote the music and lyrics for the musical, are on board and will write some new songs for the movie. And, at least part of the movie will be filmed in beautiful Baltimore. It is scheduled for release in summer 2007.

Still to be determined is who will play our heroine, young Tracy Turnblad. She may be too old by now, and who knows if she can sing or not, but I would see Thora Birch as the perfect choice, or even better, Marissa Jaret Winokur from Broadway.

Now, if someone would just take out Mr. Travolta ... I'm not a wealthy man by any means, and I'm planning to blow most of what I have going to the World Cup with my brother, but you will have my undying gratitude. That and 50 cents, as they say, can still buy you a copy of The Telegraph.

16 Blocks

Aging Hollywood starlets must just hate Bruce Willis. As he gets older and more bloated, they just write it into his parts, trying to find some kind of nobility in playing the same alcoholic, way-over-the-hill cop time after time.

His part in "16 Blocks" is much the same as his part in the vastly superior "Sin City." Except for this time, we're supposed to believe he finds redemption in the form of Mos Def, acting way beyond the meager bites he's given here.

This movie left so little of an impression on me that it's almost hard to write about it, but I will trudge on.

It's at its best when there's just Bruce and Mos, brought together because Bruce's cop has to get Mos to the courthouse over the titular 16 blocks to testify against some crooked cops who, not terribly surprisingly, don't want him to get there. You can see where this is going, but it doesn't even come close. It just meanders through a series of routine action sequences under a hail of bullets and even deadlier cliches.

There are elements of two much better Pacino cop dramas at work here. When our duo are on the run, they manage to hijack and crash a city bus, giving this movie what little tension it musters in the vein of "Dog Day Afternoon." As our supposed hero Bruce takes on his fellow cops, there's also a very dim shade of "Serpico."

But after borrowing (a nicer way to say stealing) these two motifs, director Richard Donner adds nothing else to "16 Blocks."

Mos and Bruce fight hard to get through this unscarred, and they mostly succeed. Mos is a first-rate actor who will, I'm certain, get to play the lead in a good movie very soon. But here he sinks under the weight of tedious dialogue that almost drowns him.

It's hard to pick out the worst example, but I'll try. When Mos returns to the bus to help out his embattled buddy, he says something about how Chuck Berry and Barry White committed crimes early in their lives, but they changed, so why can't he? Well, I don't know about Barry White, but I have it on pretty good authority that Chuck Berry is just of much of an asshole now as he's ever been.

How do I know? Because Chuck Leavell, keyboardist for the Rolling Stones among many other accomplishments, wrote an entire memoir in which he pretty much had kind words to say about every person he ever met. Every single person in the world of rock was just as kind as could be, except Chuck Berry, who even Leavell had to concede is a royal jerk.

Why bring this up? Because, if a movie is going to try to teach us lessons, it should at least have some clue about what it's talking about.

But, I've wasted enough energy on this truly mediocre flick. Spend your money at Dave Chappelle's big party, or just keep it for yourself.

Dave Chappelle's Block Party

Every couple of years or so, I see a movie that I'm convinced was made just for me.

They usually center around music, like "Almost Famous" and "O Brother Where Art Thou?," or geeks like me, such as "Napoleon Dynamite." It happened again this weekend with "Dave Chappelle's Block Party."

Especially in the beginning, as we see Dave at home in Ohio, where one white woman invited to the hip-hop street party Dave is staging in Brooklyn actually remarks that she'll have to buy a thong, the movie is very, very funny. My personal favorite joke was Dave on the mic, after asking if there are any Mexicans in the audience, doing his Mexican Lil Jon: Que? Like he did on his show, he trades in stereotypes by proving that, while they're almost always wrong, pointing that out can be hilarious.

A word of warning: As for the music, if you don't like hip-hop, you will be bored for long stretches.

About a week ago in the Telegraph, we ran a headline in the sports section that, unfortunately, both Jay Leno and Dave Chappelle would have found very funny. After the first woman, who had a role in the negro leagues that preceded the integration of Major League Baseball, was inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame, we referred to it in the headline as the "Negro Hall of Fame."

Seeing Dave beaming on stage with so many people he clearly admires, I had to smile myself as I thought he probably would laugh out loud if you called his block party just that. With hip-hop now 30 years old, this first concert movie from the genre to play in theaters everywhere felt like a much-deserved coronation, albeit strictly with a New York accent.

Most critics have hailed Lauryn Hill's crooning "Killing Me Softly" reunited with Pras and Wyclef as the musical highlight, but I beg to differ. For me, the reunion of Mos Def and Talib Kweli as Blackstar topped the bill, barely edging out a clearly amped-up Dead Prez. As he does almost everywhere, Kanye West just made a jerk of himself, but luckily he was gone early.

With the exception of Kanye, the music is great, and Michel Gondry films it all as the loose affair that it was, letting you feel the party vibe throughout.

As it was all coming to an end, I flashed back to that scene in "Amelie" where Audrey Tautou turns around in a packed movie theater to look at the people's faces.

If anyone had done that Saturday afternoon, they would have seen a goofy white guy with a big grin on his face, bobbing his head in the white man's version of dancing and loving every minute of it.

Thanks for the invite, Dave. Now, please settle your differences with Comedy Central and get back on TV as soon as possible. We all need you.

Zach Braff and Gael Garcia Bernal

Before I go any further, allow me to give full credit for both these news nuggets to The Hollywood Reporter. That said, they're both pretty cool to me.

I've never really been able to embrace romantic comedies, except for the rare exception like "Say Anything" or "Garden State."

The latter, from Zach Braff, ranks among my favorites for many reasons: Natalie Portman as cute as she's ever been, Peter Sarsgaard as funny as he's ever been and Braff as a surprisingly sure-handed director, writer and actor.

According to THR, Braff will take time off from "Scrubs" to follow this up with "Open Hearts," a remake of a Danish film, for Paramount Pictures.

The story is about a man who is paralysed in a car accident and his fiance who ends up having an affair with a doctor in the hospital where he's recovering. To complicate matters, the doctor's wife is the one responsible for the accident which paralysed the man.

Given what Braff has been able to do with the hospital setting in writing and directing for "Scrubs," I'd be amazed if this turned out bad. It will also, according to THR, be a return to New Jersey, for which Braff showed such an innate empathy and understanding in "Garden State." All-around goodness here.

Garcia Bernal directing first film

THR also reports that Mexican actor Gael Garcia Bernal will make his directorial debut with a low-budget feature film that focuses on class differences in Mexico.

Upstart shingle Canana Films, run by Garcia Bernal, his "Y Tu Mama Tambien" co-star Diego Luna and producer Pablo Cruz, will produce the drama, which remains untitled. Garcia Bernal will star alongside Camila Sodi, Luz Cipriota and Tenoch Huerta.

The story is an adaptation of an episode of "Rute 32," a series that Canana has been developing for television, which stars Garcia Bernal. Kyzza Terrazas, who directed a short titled "Birdkillers," penned the script.

"It has been quite an organic experience to start directing," Garcia Bernal said in an interview. "I'm discovering a new world."

All that is from THR, but this short note is from me. I don't buy nearly as many movies as I used to, but one I'm glad I did spring for was "Y Tu Mama Tambien."

Along with being a great road movie filled with humor and humanity, it's a knowledgable indictment of the current state of Mexican society. If Bernal can take what he learned from that for this new work, it should be great. We'll see.