Caught in the Filter

Now on newsstands, the new issue of FILTER magazine. Yours truly has several pieces in the magazine, including a feature on Jesca Hoop, whose excellent second album, "Hunting My Dress," is as gratifyingly unusual as it is full of great hooks and melodies. I also penned the issue's lead album review on Midlake's "Courage of Others" as well as a review of Shearwater's "The Golden Archipelago" (though flawed, it's my favorite album of the year from one of my very favorite bands). Also in the issue: interviews with Beck and Charlotte Gainsbourg, Jeff Bridges, She & Him, and The Besnard Lakes (the Montreal band's "And the Night Roared" is my second fave album of 2010 so far).

There's no business like snow business

The best male and female screen performance of the past 12 months? Sorry, Meryl and Jeff, it's neither of you. The winners in this category are easily Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir, the Canadian skating pair who won gold medals last night in Ice Dancing at the Olympics. For good measure, they ought to take home little gold statuettes as a bonus.

I'll return to the duo's remarkable thespian abilities in a bit. But first let's recap just how many great performances (of the non-acting kind) we've already seen at the Vancouver games.

• Memorably, Shaun White showcased a move called the McTwist in which he rode his snowboard up a rip curl of ice and catapulted himself into a void in the night sky where even Icarus wouldn't dare take wing. White somehow defied the very laws of space and time because, in less than three seconds, the red head contorted himself and his board through a mathematically impossible combination of twists, corkscrews, and horizontal and vertical rotations. Then he tapped into his inner Capt. Sullenberger to pull off a miraculous switch-side landing. If NBC had affixed a camera to the bottom of his board, your television would likely have keeled over from the vertigo.

• Even more impressive: The aerial skiers who briefly turn into human helicopters, their upended skis twirling in futility as the grappling hooks of gravity take hold. The skeleton crews who hurtle, head first, around icy chicanes at 90 mph fall into the same bracket of life-insurance premiums and are just as entertaining. I also marveled at the downhill skiers who careen off the edge of a precipice and somehow manage a semblance of flight that a Dodo would envy.

• Best James Bond tribute: Even the skiing biathletes who shoot targets with rifles weren't as showstopping as the 007-inspired short program by Korea's Kim Yu-Na. She ended her record-score routine by pointing her fingers like a gun. But her real firepower came from a triple lutz-triple toe loop that made one look to ceiling to see if there wasn't a puppeteer pulling marionette strings. (Scott Hamilton's squeal triggered an avalanche in Whistler.)

• Bode Miller, whose threatened to become known as Miller lite after his hard-partying lifestyle led to a dismal showing at the Torino games, notched several medals at the games, including one gold. On the podium, the natural-born skier displayed a humility and inner calm few would have imagined him capable of.

• Lindsey Vonn, the famous swimsuit model and occasional downhill racer, had sports writers churning out stories about her injured shin threatened her Olympic participation. Silly rabbits. This is a girl who was evacuated by helicopter after a crash in the Torino Olympics and still checked herself out of hospital to compete the next day with a bruised hip. Was there any serious doubt that she wouldn't compete? Girl's got grit. Her triumph was hard won and an early highlight of the games.

• America's Evan Lysacek wasn't favored to beat Adrian Brody lookalike Yevgeny Pluschenko. The Russian gold medalist seemed superhuman. Who else, after all, could pull of a quadruple toe loop. But Lysacek won out thanks to rigorous training, finer artistry, and the canny tactic of accumulating points by executing several jumping passes in the second half of the program.

If I seem overly US-centric in my list of highlights, forgive me. It's NBC's fault. The coverage is heavily skewed toward American competitors. Anchor Bob Costas shows off a chart of the medal count so regularly that you'd think we still lived in the mercantile era rather than one of globalization. Props to Steven Colbert for pin-pricking the balloon of jingoism with his "Defeat the World" mantra.
Which brings us back to the Canadian skaters, Virtue and Moir. As brilliant sports writer Mark Sappenfield observes in The Christian Science Monitor, their routine was so winning that, "For a night, it seemed, the 48th parallel disappeared and we were not two brotherly nations, but brothers." (If you missed the duo's events over the past three nights, watch them here and here.)

Indeed, their performances over the past three nights were transcendent. Not just because of their inspired choreography, perfect synchronicity, surprise moves, and agile athletic ability. The duo's second dance was distinguished by a red-hot passion that threatened to turn the icy stage beneath their skates to slush. It was there in the deeply affectionate glances between the two as they held hands during a turn around the arena prior to the most important skate of their lives. And it was there in the tender embrace concluded their elegant routine, a ballet on ice in which the swan-like skaters seemed to fall in love while millions watched. The duo could have performed in an arena filled with fans of UFC extreme cage fighting and there wouldn't have been a dry eye in the audience.

Which is why it was heartbreaking to discover that Scott Moir and Tessa Virtue (who resembles a young Kate Beckinsale) aren't romantically involved. Theirs is not a tale of love off the ice, like Torvill & Dean, Jamie Salé and David Pelletier, or even Moira Kelly and that hockey player in "The Cutting Edge." They’re just great friends. Indeed, Moir is dating another prominent skater. All of which underscores how powerful the duo’s performance was. Like actors in a great romance movie, they made us believe in a great love story. In the process, they created the single defining moment of these games.

How the Oscars got boring

Just about every year, weary journalists and pop-culture pundits trot out opinions on how to save The Academy Awards because the Oscars no longer draw big viewership figures. In 1970, the televised ceremony had a 43.4% share in the ratings. Today, it's less of an event. Last year's show -- which was up 6% on 2008 -- boasted an "American Idol"-scale audience. Which is pretty good, but hardly phenomenal in this era of long-tail media fragmentation.

Typically, suggestions on boosting numbers tend to go like this:

• If you can't get Billy Crystal as emcee, how about Jay & Conan as co-hosts?
  
• If you can't bring back Björk and her egg-laying swan dress, how about inviting Lady Gaga (with Cher as her stylist).
• If you can't get star power like Brangelina on the red carpet, how about Snooki and The Situation?
• How about inviting Steve Jobs to the podium to unveil a new Apple product?
• Or how about just awarding Best Picture to "Twilight" for that all-important 13-18 demographic? (Bonus idea: Have Justin Bieber hand over the statuette.)
  

Such cosmetic changes will move the needle some. But our culture has fundamentally changed since Oscar's heyday. For starters, Hollywood movie stars aren't as important anymore. In part, it's because there's less mystery and less golden-era glamor.

There was a time, long ago, when stars weren't over-exposed. Apart from the occasional appearance on Johnny Carson or a Jerry Lewis telethon, your only opportunity of seeing actors outside of the movies was tuning into the Oscars. Nowadays, you can watch Clooney picking his nose on TMZ. In the old days celebrities were largely presented in publicist-controlled puff pieces in "Life" magazine. Now, you can read about Brangelina's sex life in US Weekly right after you've flipped past pictures of J.Lo pumping gas in the "Stars: They're Just Like Us!" feature.

More fundamentally, stars no longer have the currency they once did. Studios now rely on well-branded properties and high-concept stories, rather than big-name actors, to pack theaters. That's true of nearly all 2009's top-grossing films: "Avatar," "Star Trek," "Transformers," "Harry Potter," "Twilight," "Alvin & The Chipmunks," "The Hangover," "X-Men: Origins," "2012."

There are one or two exceptions to that hardening rule: Robert Downey Jr. helped sell the "Sherlock Holmes" brand name with the capital he gained from starring in "Iron Man 2." Sandra Bullock and Meryl Streep can reliably draw a crowd in the right project. And Will Smith could probably star in a sequel to "Howard the Duck" and still notch a big opening weekend. But can they turn the awards telecast into a "must see"? Nah.

So, if celebrity is no longer a significant draw for the Academy Awards, how about the movies? The gambit of expanding the Best Picture nominees to 10 films will likely improve audience numbers as the category isn't just limited to middlebrow fare. The 9 nominations for "Avatar" will be a cause for celebration for the Academy and ABC because the last time America gave a damn about the Oscars was the year of "Titanic." The studios will cheer, too, since the awards are primarily about selling movies (and flattering egos).

Problem is, the Academy awards are all over before they've even begun. The awards season is oversaturated with award shows, many of them televized, ranging from The Golden Globes to the Spirit Awards. Moreover, each of Hollywood's major guilds -- Actors, Producers, Directors -- hold their own ceremonies and the big winners in each category tend to be a safe prediction of who will win in the corresponding Oscar category. We now know that Jeff Bridges will win for Best Actor, Sandra Bullock for Best Actress, Kathryn Bigelow for Best Director, and The Hurt Locker for Best Picture.

All of this happens before the Academy Award nominations have even been announced. In fact, the only surprises today in the widely predicted nominees was the inclusion of "The Blind Side" for Best Picture and "In the Loop" for Best Adapted Screenplay.

Simply, there's no element of suspense anymore.

A few thoughts on the Grammys

Last night, Taylor Swift's narrow-slitted eyelids popped into Katy Perry-like wide-eyed surprise. Her numerous wins, including the top prize of Album of the Year, left me googly-eyed, too. Swift's off-key warbling during a duet with Stevie Nicks woulda got her kicked off "American Idol" in round one. At that moment, I blessed the inventor of the mute button.

Other performers opted for autotune, though worst offenders Jamie Foxx/T.Pain/Slash still managed to sound outtatune during their messy medley.

That unwieldy collaboration typified the Grammy approach: Cram as many star names onto a stage at once. As usual, the Grammys were all about selling product first and foremost. As Jon Pareles of the New York Times noted,

"The Grammys have found the right balance of performance and award — which is to say, the awards are strictly a sideshow. A recording business desperate for sales wants to expose as many items as possible, and most performers were introduced along with their song titles in case anybody wanted to download them immediately. Medleys were the rule, squeezing in more songs per minute, and as usual the Grammys featured generation-crossing duets."

Most bizarrely, Andrea Bocelli and Mary J. Blige shuffled around a duet of "What Child Is This?" It's the worst idea for a collaboration since McCain/Palin. When Eminem, Lil' Wayne and Drake appeared on stage, it seemed like the most exciting showdown since the gunfight at the O.K. Corral. It was hard to tell since CBS's censors used the mute button for large portions of the song (if only they'd done that for Taylor Swift). The Eminem, Lil' Wayne, Drake performance should have included mash-up of "Pants on the Ground." Someone please buy Lil' Wayne a belt.

Lady Gaga, meanwhile, achieved the impossible: She was more flamboyant than even Elton John during their medley of "Speechless/Your Song." Gaga was the easy winner in the most interesting race of the night: most bizarre dress. Other nominees included Imogen Heap, Pink, Katy Perry. Gaga seems to have stuck to her New Year's Resolution to dress less conservatively this year. (Ok, I made that up.) But at this point, the only way she can top herself is to arrive at an awards ceremony on a pair of stilts while wearing Big Bird's costume. At any rate, she'll never top last week's weirder than weird awards outfit worn by the infinitely more talented Fever Ray. The ever-kooky Imogen Heap, whose excellent "Ellipse" deserved more than just a win for "Best Engineer," wore a tech thingy that transmitted live photos taken by fans.

Of all the performances last night, my favorite was watching Jeff Beck playing a Les Paul (the guitarist has barely touched anything other than a Strat since the early 1970s) during a tribute to the instrument's creator. His solos during "How High the Moon" were elegant and gorgeous.

I was also surprised how much I enjoyed the Usher/Carrie Underwood/Jennifer Hudson/Celine Dion take on Michael Jackson's "Earth Song." Collectively, they deployed more melisma than an entire season of "American Idol," but it worked great and reminded one how good Jackson's pop can be.

Beyoncé, too, showed off her range. The golden goddess's medley was pure Sasha Fierce -- particularly as she channeled angry Alanis for the "You Oughta Know" segment -- with almost as much crotch crabbing as Eminem. Bizarrely, and for no apparent reason, she was surrounded by a phalanx of men dressed like a SWAT team. The only other time you'll see that many paramilitary troopers on TV is when Hugo Chavez clamps down on a protest rally on CNN. Or an in-store signing session by Justin Bieber. In a rare television appearance (cough), The Black Eyed Peas tried to outdo Beyoncé by dressing Fergie like "Tron" and surrounding themselves with a troupe of dancing robots.

Like so much of the mainstream pop on display last night, the Black Eyed Peas offered up '80s-influenced soulless plastic dressed up in substance-less style. The worst offender yet, Ke$ha's "Tik Tok," mercifully wasn't released in time for a nomination this round. But it'll no doubt be in contention for Record of the Year in 2011.

I'll have the mute button at the ready.

The curious case of Che chic

On Tuesday, Criterion released Steven Soderbergh's "Che" on DVD. Originally released to cinemas in two parts, the Criterion Collection edition is one complete film. But I think you'll learn more about Che Guevara, Che chic, and Hollywood's baffling love affair with the revolutionary icon by watching this entertaining video (below) than sitting through all four hours of Soderbergh's biopic.

My fave films of the decade

No movies from 2009 in my list of my 10 fave films of the decade, though The Hurt Locker and Avatar came very close....

Also bubbling under: Sideways, Pan's Labyrinth, Man on Wire, No Country for Old Men, Wall-E, Millions, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Borat, Spirited Away, Mystic River, Slumdog Millionaire, Up in the Air, A History of Violence, Adaptation, Kill Bill, The Lives of Others, Yi Yi (A One and a Two), Wall-E, Before Sunset, Vitus, The Pianist, Million Dollar Baby, School of Rock, Michael Clayton, Elf, Casino Royale, Minority Report, Traffic.

Below are 10 movies that proved to be transcendent experiences at the cinema over the past 10 years.

10) The Pianist
9) Letters from Iwo Jima
8) Munich
7) Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon
6) Mulholland Drive
5) The Incredibles
4) Almost Famous
3) Amelie
2) Lord of the Rings (ok, technically three movies but I'll cheat as it's all one story)
1) Children of Men

"Children of Men" was one of the most powerful movie experiences of my life. For two hours, I wasn't aware that I was in a cinema at all. I was crouching, ducking, and weaving through Alfonso Cuarón's nightmarish depiction of a future in which the human race is dying out because incapacitated women are unable to bear children. "Children of Men" has many marvels not the least of which are two astonishing sequences filmed in unbroken camera movements (you're so wrapped up in the tension of the scenes that it's only afterward that you realize how complex those shots were to orchestrate).

Cuarón's bleak, yet wholly remarkable, film borrows imagery inspired by warfare in Baghdad, the July 7 London Tube bombings, the Holocaust, Abu Ghraib, and Guantánamo to create an allegory about how the brotherhood of man has been fractured into divisions of race, religion, nationality, and gender. Yet, the movie's theme and message is so subtle that it's only after the film is over that one parses its meaning.

Sadly, the movie studio didn't seem to understand what it had in its hands. It was ditched in movie theaters with scant thought as to its Oscar chances and the trailers made it look as if it was a trashy sci-fi thriller. Once the critical plaudits started to mount, it seemed as if the studio was taken by surprise. But without an Oscar campaign, the film was ignored during awards season. No matter. The film's reputation has only increased over time and several film critics have included the film in their "Best of the decade" lists.

My favorite albums of the decade

In trying to compile my favorite albums of the decade, I initially tried to compile a top 10 list. I hated the exercise. How do you squeeze 10 years of albums into 10 slots? When you compile a roster of the very greatest albums of the 'OOs, how do you distinguish whether one masterpiece is worthy of the #6 slot rather than the #5 slot ?

So, I resolved instead to just list some of the albums that have remained special to me, throughout the decade. I've sorted them alphabetically by artist and, as you'll see, some bands and artists have more multiple albums listed next to their names. Some artists, such as Steven Wilson (Porcupine Tree, No-Man, Blackfield), have had such an outstanding decade that I've included every release over the past 10 years. With others, I've tried to hone in on their best work.

I'll put an asterisk* next to a select couple of records that I have played over and over and over again and would carry out first in the event of a fire. (I've also marked out some of those very favorites with pictures of album covers.) I've also added hyperlinks, where possible, to my reviews of some of these records.

Justin Adam & Juldeh Camara -- Soul Science/Tell No Lies
Ryan Adams -- Cold Roses
Air -- Talkie Walkie

Amadou & Mariam -- Dimanche A Bamako

Joseph Arthur -- Come to Where I'm From*/Redemption's Son*/Our Shadows Will Remain*/Nuclear Daydream*
David Baerwald -- The New Folk Underground*

Richard Barbieri -- Things Buried/Stranger Inside
Bat for Lashes -- Fur and Gold/Two Suns

The Beta Band -- From Heroes to Zeroes

Bjork -- Vespertine*
Blackfield -- Blackfield/Blackfield II

The Black Keys -- Attack & Release

Blonde Redhead -- 23

Blue Nile -- High

Boards of Canada -- The Campfire Headphase

Bon Iver -- For Emma, Forever Ago

David Bowie -- Heathen*/Reality
Jack Bruce -- Shadows in the Air
Kate Bush -- Aerial*

Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds -- Abbatoir Blues + The Lyre of Orpheus/Dig Lazarus Digg!!!
Coldplay -- Rush of Blood to the Head/Viva La Vida

Shawn Colvin -- Whole New You
Crowded House -- Time on Earth
The Cure -- 4:13 Dream

Dirty Projectors -- Bitte Orca
Drive By Truckers -- Brighter than Creation's Dark

Bob Dylan -- Love and Theft/Modern Times
Doves -- Lost Souls*/The Last Broadcast/Some Cities/Kingdom of Rust
Elbow -- Asleep in the Back/Cast of Thousands/Leaders of the Free World*/Seldom Seen Kid

Engineers -- Three Fact Fader

Donald Fagen -- Morph the Cat

The Flaming Lips -- Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots

Fleet Foxes -- Fleet Foxes

Neil Finn -- One All

Frou Frou -- Details
Goldfrapp -- Seventh Tree
Grizzly Bear -- Yellow House/Veckatimest
Imogen Heap -- Ellipse
John Hammond -- Wicked Grin
PJ Harvey -- Stories from the City, Stories from the Sea*/Uh Huh Her/White Chalk*
Jesca Hoop -- Kismet*
The Invisible -- The Invisible

Iron & Wine --The Shepherd's Dog
Keane -- Under the Iron Sea
Sonny Landreth -- From the Reach

LCD Soundsystem -- Sounds of Silver
Marillion -- Anoraknophobia/ Marbles* /Happiness is the Road*

The Mars Volta -- Deloused in the Comatarium/Octahedron
Scott Matthews -- Passing Strangers

Natalie Merchant -- Motherland

Midlake -- The Trials of Von Occupanther
Joni Mitchell -- Shine
Gary Moore -- Close As You Get
The Mummers -- Tale to Tell, Pt. 1

My Morning Jacket -- It Still Moves

No-Man -- Returning Jesus*/Together We're Stranger*/Schoolyard Ghosts*

Opeth -- Blackwater Park/Ghost Reveries

Pineapple Thief -- Variations on a Dream
Robert Plant -- Dreamland*/Mighty Rearranger*/Raising Sand* (with Alison Krauss)Porcupine Tree -- In Absentia*/Deadwing*/Fear of a Blank Planet*/The Incident*

Radiohead -- Kid A*/In Rainbows* (two-disc edition)

Red Hot Chili Peppers -- Stadium Arcadium
Rush -- Vapor Trails

Shearwater -- Palo Santo*/Rook*

Steely Dan -- Everything Must Go
Otis Taylor -- Definition of a Circle

Tinariwen -- Imidiwen: Companions
Rokia Traoré -- Tchamantché
TV on the Radio -- Return to Cookie Mountain/Dear Science
Sigur Rós - Með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust
Suzanne Vega -- Songs in Red and Gray
Steven Wilson -- Insurgentes*


The White Stripes -- Elephant

World Party -- Dumbing Up
Thom Yorke -- The Eraser

With 'Avatar,' Cameron is king of all worlds

Cancel whatever plans you have this weekend. Go find yourself the biggest screen showing "Avatar" in 3-D. It's utterly astonishing. Not the story so much, which is "Dancing with Wolves" or "Ferngully" all over again, but James Cameron's feat of visual imagination is as astonishing as watching Jesus walk on water. As Steven Spielberg put it, "The last time I came out of a movie feeling that way it was the first time I saw Star Wars."

Truth is, my faith in James Cameron had waned. He was, after George Lucas and Steven Spielberg, my first real movie director hero. I remember the day vividly. At age 14, my parents dropped me off at a cinema and I opted to see "Aliens." Didn't know a thing about it. Had never even heard of "Alien" at that point. The movie poster of a sweaty Sigourney Weaver even looked oddly like Michael Jackson. But I knew it was sci-fi and that was enough for me. I was one of four people in the movie theater for a matinee screening and that sense of isolation only enhanced what became one of the most intense cinematic experiences of my life. "Aliens" is a masterpiece. An action-suspense film that clamps down on your heart because Cameron spends a lot of time developing characters you care about.

From that day I was a fan. I was entranced by both "Terminator" movies as well as the tongue-in-cheek homage to James Bond, "True Lies." I particularly loved "The Abyss" (well, apart from the "ET" ending) because the scuba diver in me has always been fascinated by the deep. Has there ever been a more heart-stopping moment in cinema when the Ed Harris character tries to revive his wife, played by Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio?

Alas, "Titanic" shook my faith in Cameron. The movie has numerous incredible scenes and the third-act sinking of the boat is utterly indelible. But the characters of Jack and Rose were too cartoonish and Cameron's depiction of the social mores of 1912 seemed far too modern in sensibility to be believable. Kate and Leo may have had a natural chemistry but the crass storytelling and risible dialogue kept me at arm's length from fully embracing the film, much as I wanted to. Don't even get me started about the silliness of Billy Zane's character chasing after Leonardo with a gun even as the ship is sinking...

"Avatar" reminded me why I loved James Cameron in the first place. You may already know the story which, according to some, is a rip off of a Poul Anderson's short story, "Call Me Joe."

"Avatar" is set in the year 2157. A distant planet, "Pandora," holds vast repositories of a precious ore that Earth badly desires. But the planet is inhabited by the N'Avi, primitive, blue-skinned alien beings who resemble a cross between Andrew Lloyd Weber's cat people, giraffes, and the smurfs. A group of American marines led by Colonel Miles Quaritch (Stephen Lang) draws up plans to forcibly remove the N'Avi even as a peacenik scientific research team led by Grace Augustine (Sigourney Weaver) tries to integrate itself into the native tribe through bio-engineered Avatars that resemble the N'Avi. The hero of the story, a paraplegic Marine named Jake Sully (Sam Worthington), finds a new lease on life inside his Avatar since he's able to walk once again using this new body. During his first visit to the jungle -- an environment by turns wondrous and dangerous -- he meets Neytiri (Zoe Saldana), a fetching, yet fierce, N'Avi warrior. Jake starts living with the N'Avi and it gives nothing away to report that, in the process, he goes native.

So far, so predictable, right? Well, the story may not hold any narrative surprises but the characters are effectively embodied by the cast. Sam Worthington is solid, though hardly revelatory. Stephen Lang's top-brass Marine is so bad-ass that he'd reduce the likes of Colonel Kilgore and Lee Ermey to warming his toilet seat for him.

As with all James Cameron movies, it's the women who get the richest and most rewarding roles. Sigourney Weaver is all guts and gumption but, in a performance that echoes her Ellen Ripley character in "Aliens," she gradually softens to reveal a maternal side, too.

Zoe Saldana, who played Uhura in the recent "Star Trek," is particularly effective. She's the one actress we never actually see because her whole performance is rendered with pixels. Yet her body posture and facial expressions are particularly expressive. That's because Cameron devised unique technology to digitally capture the motions and emotions of his actors. The cast weren't just rigged in motion-capture suits. They were also fitted with helmets with small cameras that could capture everything from a cheek twitch to the movement of the tongue. (To read more about the technology behind "Avatar," here's a story I wrote on it.)

Naysayers figured that the N'Avi characters would be a folly on a par with Jar Jar Binks, but Cameron's photo-realistic technology allows for surprising depth of performance. Until now, computer-generated characters have been hobbled by a fatal flaw: Their eyes look as dead as those of a Great White shark. But the N'Avi's pupils have been animated with the crucial spark of life that makes them well, almost human. If we didn't connect emotionally with these computer-rendered extra-terrestrial beings, the movie would be a failure.

Technologically, this film truly is a gamechanger. Of course, all the tech would just be a bunch of flashy pixels without the steady hand of a gifted filmmaker. The pacing, the action, the core emotion, the visual imagination of every frame makes one realize what hacks most Hollywood action directors are. "Avatar" is also an effective love story and, instead of serving up a de rigeur action sequence every couple of minutes, Cameron lets the middle part of the movie breathe serene quiet as we get to explore "Pandora" and understand its natives. It doesn't flag for a minute, even at nearly 3 hours.

There are things one could quibble about in terms of the story's message and its cliches about noble savages tamed by the white man. (The first dialogue exchange between Jake Sully and Neytiri is uncomfortably "Me Tarzan, You Jane.") The film also floats the notion that a primitive tribal existence is akin to living in Eden. It's a powerful and romantic notion when, in fact, such an existence would be painful and difficult -- truly Hobbesian. Tribal cultures have often trafficked in cannibalism and human sacrifice and war. It's the reason mankind progressed beyond a hunter gatherer mode. A more interesting picture might have explored whether Pandora's native tribes couldn't have benefitted from education and technology at the expense of tradition. The film's anti-technology/ back-to-nature theme is a bit rich when the filmmaking itself is a technological marvel. But the movie's magic trumps such flaws while you're watching it.

As film critic Peter Rainer notes, "Avatar" is the most expensive Cowboys and Indians film ever made. (Also, you know you're watching science fiction when a 22nd-Century America is still the world's super power, rather than India or China.)

James Cameron stated that he aimed to make a film that would make people go to the cinema again. Indeed, watching this in 3-D is to be immersed in virtual reality. It's like spending three hours on a distant planet envisaged by Roger Dean, the artist who created all the Yes album covers. (See the movie, then compare the art direction to these album Roger Dean album covers with ribcage rock formations and floating rocks.)

Where the film truly triumphs in originality its imagination of a rich extraterrestrial ecosystem where dinosaur-like creatures coexist with Jellyfish-like sprites that float like dandelions. Many of the creatures were clearly inspired by Cameron's excursions to the deepest part of the oceans.

Movie critic Ty Burr sums it up best when he writes, "I could go on about the depth of field in the rapturous 3-D landscapes, how cleanly each individual leaf and insect is realized, how fully visualized the critters, but words start to fail. “Avatar’’ is an entertainment to be not just seen but absorbed on a molecular level; it’s as close to a full-body experience as we’ll get until they invent the holo-suits."

Truly, this is one film experience that won't translate to DVD and a TV screen. Let alone an iPod.

I saw the film at Fox studios and the star, Sam Worthington, did an engaging Q&A afterward. He said that Cameron's intial cut of the movie was 5 hours long and so they cut out several subplots and opted for narrative shortcuts. It also sounds as if Cameron has mellowed as a person. Worthington mentioned that he'd heard horror stories about Cameron as a dictator on the set of "Titanic" but Worthington said that the director tried to get people on board with him to realize his vision and so he couldn't afford to alienate his crew.

Worthington also said that Cameron already has the story for the sequel mapped out but it all depends on whether the movie -- the most expensive ever made -- is a hit or not. Prior to seeing the film, I thought that "Sherlock Holmes" would be this winter's big hit. But once word of mouth gets around, "Avatar" will play for months and months as moviegoers queue up for repeat trips to the wondrous world of "Pandora." With "Avatar," James Cameron isn't just "King of the World." He's king of all the other worlds, too.

'Up in the Air' earns its high praise

Douglas Adams begins his book "The Long, Dark Tea-time of the Soul" with the following hilarious observation:

"It can hardly be a coincidence that no language on earth has ever produced the phrase, 'as pretty as an airport.' Airports are ugly. Some are very ugly. Some attain a degree of ugliness that can only be the result of a special effort. This ugliness arises because airports are full of people who are tired, cross, and have just discovered that their language has just landed in Murmansk. (Murmansk airport is the only known exception to this otherwise infallible rule)..."

Indeed, an airport terminal is nobody's favorite place to spend several hours. Except, for Ryan Bingham, that is. In "Up in the Air," Bingham (played by George Clooney) feels entirely at home in the gray purgatory of departure lounges across the continental United States. Good thing, too, since Bingham's business keeps him on the road more days per year than BB King. It's when he returns home to his apartment, which is more spartan than a jail cell, that he feels mordantly uneasy about his solitary existence. While he's on the road, surrounded by a constant bustle of fellow travelers, he's able to stave off any feelings of existential angst.

Ironically, this loner has one expertise in life: people skills. He travels across to firms across the country to lay off people by using his furrowed brow of concern and well-practiced conciliatory patter to dampen the slap of the pink slip. Unlike the devastated former employees he leaves in his wake, he gets a good night's sleep thanks to the bonus points he racks up in well-appointed hotel rooms. He also flies business class, clocking frequent flier air miles as a hobby of sorts (he's counting down the number of flights until he reaches a golden number attained by only 7 other passengers).

Then, one day, his cozy existence is upended by news that his job is about to become automated. A new hire at the firm -- a young upstart fresh out of business school named Natalie Keener -- has devised a system that allows one to fire people via online teleconferencing. Bingham is devastated since it means that his days on the road will soon be over. Fortunately, he convinces his boss (a smarmy Jason Bateman) that Natalie sorely needs to experience the interpersonal dynamics of laying off people in person. So he takes her out on the road with him. Also complicating Bingham's routine: A fling with Alex (Vera Farmiga), a business woman he meets at a hotel lounge.

Won't say much more about the plot of this tremendous movie, which is based on a novel by Walter Kirn. Suffice to say that "Up in the Air" is one of 2009's finest films and that's because it had the Reitman for the job. That would be Jason Reitman -- sorry, couldn't resist the pun -- who previously helmed "Thank You for Smoking" and "Juno." He's a director with exquisite taste for material that is dramatic, funny, moving, and thoughtful. And, in this movie, incredibly sexy. The smoldering scenes between Clooney and Farmiga spark with such intensity that someone may yell "Fire" in a crowded theater.

This is Clooney's finest role to date. I wish that the actor's familiar, well-oiled charm was rustier in this role but he allows one to see the shadows inside the creases on his face and, slowly, we see what a sad a figure lies beneath the character's polished veneer.

"Up in the Air" is a blessing for Farmiga who, in the movie's best scene, delivers a great speech that, in hindsight, casts a shadow. The actress should have gone on to big things after her role in "The Departed" and an LA Film Critics award for her harrowing performance in "Down to the Bone." Instead she found herself languishing in two thankless horror movies about deadly adopted orphans ("Joshua" and "Orphan"). Farmiga should now be able to knock on the door marked "A-list."

Anna Kendrick, to date renowned as "the best friend" in the Twilight series, offers much needed levity as Natalie, the tightly wound Type-A who learns life lessons out on the road. It's a showy role that ought to earn Kendrick a Best Supporting Actress nomination at the Oscars.

Another thing I appreciated: Reitman doesn't try to vilify companies or make some lofty anti-capitalism statement. In newscasts, one frequently sees stories about people losing their jobs because of plants shutting down or companies downsizing or outsourcing. But what is never seen, or captured by the media, is how these painful adjustments in the economy play out in the long run. How resources are reallocated (to use cold econo-speak) in more productive ways and how people adjust to their circumstances. Indeed, there's a great scene in which one laid-off employee wonders what he's going to do now. The Bingham character makes him realize that he has a particular talent that he's never utilized and could result in a far more satisfying new career.

Moreover, the movie hones in on what jobs and career mean to us, and just how much meaning we invest in our work. It certainly reminded me how much of my identity has been tied up in a job in the past. When people are let go, it's emotionally devastating and the movie doesn't flinch at depicting that. The authenticity of such scenes isn't accidental. Reitman posted ads inviting recently fired people to be interviewed on film. Those scenes with non actors pack a punch that, fortunately, the fictional drama is able to match.

"Up in the Air" is, as the movie tagline advertises, is "a story of a man about to make a connection." But its not a predictable story and it'll stay with you. Even the open credit sequence lingers...

I hope "Up in the Air" puts bums in seats. The prospect of spending so much screen time inside an airport terminals may not be an easy sell when the theater next door is transporting "Avatar" viewers to the 3-D planet of Pandora. Moreover, the trailers for "Up in the Air" may trigger unfortunate flashbacks to Tom Hanks in "The Terminal." But trust me on this. "Up in the Air" has stayed with me since I saw it a couple of weeks ago. It's the sort of classy, star-driven, middlebrow movie that Hollywood seems to reluctant to finance anymore.

Recent upscale, middlebrow fare such as "Michael Clayton," "State of Play," "Duplicity," "Charlie Wilson's War," "Public Enemies," and "The International" haven't exactly troubled the folks who crunch numbers over at Box Office Mojo.

Unfortunately, too many stars have insisted on big salaries for such movies, making it more difficult to recoup costs. Star power isn't the commodity it used to be. Films such as "Juno" and "Slumdog Millionaire" prove that a great story without marquee names can still draw an audience.

Poor marketing may be to blame for the failure of some of the afore-mentioned movies, according to the ever-astute Anne Thompson. The success of "Julie & Julia" demonstrates that adult dramas can pull in older punters. Well that, and Meryl Streep.

Nonetheless, studios seem more interested in stories geared at 13-year-olds (or the 13-year-old in you). Certainly, films such as "Transformers" and "2012" carry far less risk than the types of adult-oriented dramas the studios used to make in the 1970s. To that end, the big studios have closed down specialty divisions (Paramount Vantage + Warner Independent + Vantage). Moreover, the indie sector has collapsed as a result of the credit crunch and, let's face it, such contraction was inevitable after a period of over-expansion in which just about anybody could get financing for a movie. Even the Weinstein Brothers are rumored to be in serious financial trouble (though "Inglorious Basterds" may have offered a stay of execution for their company).

So I hope "Up in the Air" is a success at the ticket counter and at the Oscar podium. It may encourage Hollywood to continue making movies that focus on people rather than pixels.