"Undefeated" is Unquestionably Moving

Look, "Undefeated" shouldn't have won the Oscar for Best Documentary of 2011. I'd have to really think it through to decide what film should've won, but I know it would be between "Bill Cunningham New York," "Project Nim," "Senna" and "Buck."

Even though I begrudge the film its Academy Award, I still cheer it on to victory in theaters. It's inspiring, poignant and heartbreaking. It's about how good coaching -- mentorship, really -- can change a kid's life. It certainly did for mine. And how can you not root for a movie that keeps you in a constant state of tears (happy and sad) the entire time -- BOTH times you watched it?

Of all the interviews I've done to date, talking to Coach Bill Courtney was the most thrilling. Not just because he is a hoot to listen to (he is exactly the same as he comes across on film), but that he so eloquently explains just how fundamentally his experience coaching the kids at Manassas High School changed his views on America's supposed "level playing field." Whether he meant to go there or not, he makes a truly authentic and refreshing political statement.

Here's my review of "Undefeated" and my interview with Coach Courtney. Hope you all go see the film and hope every man who has the time joins up with a mentorship program for at-risk boys. You are needed.

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Annual Oscar Complaint and Predictions

I have a serious love/hate relationship with the Academy Awards. As a television viewing event, it's by far my favorite -- even when it's torturously long, cheezy or just plain infuriating. Ripping on it is just as enjoyable as the rare moments of spontaneous elation (Cuba Gooding Jr.'s "Jerry Maguire" glee still probably tops it).

I never really had friends who enjoyed watching the telecast, which was fine  because it's really a tradition reserved for my mom and me. We both know when it's acceptable to talk during the broadcast, when to keep our mouths shut and, most importantly, we've actually seen most of the movies.

And now, the hate. The entire premise that the Academy Awards have anything to do with the "best" films of a particular year is beyond bunk. It's politics, pure and simple, covered with the same depth and perspective as the horse race primary coverage for the Republican presidential nomination. None of it has to do with the actual quality of the candidate, but how much money he has in the bank and how many commercials he can put on the air. It's a competition, yes. But one of marketing savvy, not filmmaking (just ask the Weinsteins).

And even if it was a legitimate competition between films, what's the point of that? Can you REALLY fairly compare "Tree of Life" to "Hugo?" And why would you want to in the first place? Ranking art (or at least attempts at art) is a premise that completely undermines the idea of art in the first place.

And if that argument doesn't convince you how silly it all is, then this one should: "War Horse" was nominated for Best Picture. Yes, "Extremeley Loud and Incredibly Close" is also an injustifiable inclusion in the category, but at least I could sit through the entire thing. I found "War Horse" to be so tedious and predicatable that I actually got up and left half-way through, something I've never done before. (And this from a girl who has a slight equine obsession.)

It wasn't until I became a professional film critic that any of this really bothered me because it suddenly became part of my job to participate in the ranking, or at least comment on it. Don't get me wrong, I'm excited to watch the Oscars tonight. I'll be with my mom, with Billy Crystal on-screen, just like the good old days. But when so-and-so's name is announced as the winner, I won't be thinking that anyone really "won."

So now that I've taken all the joy and relevance out of the Oscars, here are my picks for the winners. Please keep in mind that politics really isn't my beat, but I did a fair amount of research -- and made a few Hail Mary picks of faith--so this really is my best effort. Let me know how you fared!

Alison Gang's Oscar Picks

84th Academy Awards 2012

You can read my justifications for the first six categories here.

• Best Picture: "The Artist"
• Best Director: Michel Hazanavicius, "The Artist"
• Best Actor: Jean Dujardin, "The Artist" (but Clooney is almost as likely a winner)
• Best Actress: Viola Davis, "The Help"
• Best Supporting actor: Christopher Plummer, "Beginners"
• Best Supporting Actress: Octavia Spencer, "The Help"
• Best Animated Feature Film: "Rango"
• Best Foreign Film: "A Separation"
• Best Original Screenplay: "Midnight in Paris"
• Best Adapted Screenplay: "The Descendants"
• Best Art Direction: "Hugo"
• Best Costume Design: "The Artist"
• Best Cinematography: "The Tree of Life" (this is one of the few picks I'm making out of sheer hope, because Malick's film should be recognized for something and this would be the most fitting category)
• Best Film Editing: "The Artist"
• Best Makeup: "The Iron Lady" (though I really want to be wrong. I'm pulling for "Potter." If "Albert Nobbs" wins, I might jump out a window.)
• Best Sound Editing: "Hugo"
• Best Sound Mixing: "Hugo"
• Best Visual Effects: "Rise of the Planet of the Apes" (really, how could anything else win?)
• Best Original Song: "Man or Muppet" 
• Best Original Score: "The Artist"
• Best Documentary: "Undefeated" (but I'm rooting hard for "Pina")
• Best Documentary Short: "God is the Bigger Elvis" (admission: haven't seen any films in this category, but this sounds like a promising pick)
• Best Animated Short: "The Fantastic Flying Books for Mr. Morris Lessmore"
• Best Live Action Short: "The Shore" 

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Saint "Senna"

My head is spinning after watching "Senna" on Netflix Instant. I can't decide which revelation to begin with so, rather than trying to finesse it, I'm going to take full advantage of the blog format and just spill it as it comes.

Before watching the documentary about Brazilian Formula One driver Ayrton Senna, I noted how my two favorite documentaries of the year --"Buck" and "Bill Cunningham New York"-- introduced me to two humble, inspirational men.  First it was Buck Brannaman, the real-life "horse whisperer" who found healing and remarkable inner peace through rehabilitating horses and their owners. Then came New York Times fashion photographer Bill Cunningham, who quietly recorded the changing times from the seat of his bicycle. Both films made me want to pack a bag and show up on either of their doorsteps, asking for them to adopt me.

And now there's Ayrton Senna. I can assure you that I wouldn't be asking him to adopt me if I showed up on his doorstep (he is a simply stunning man), but my level of admiration for his honesty, humility and nearly inhuman determination would be unmatched. When it comes to the best documentaries of 2011, let's call it a trifecta of admirable men.

Then there's director Asif Kapadia's choice to use only archival video from news coverage, team footage, home movies, and POV footage from inside Senna's car as it weaves so tightly through the narrow track that you can't help but hold your breath the entire time. There are no cutaways to in-studio interviews of the players (only the frugal use of voiceover narration from a select group of insiders). There's no sense that time has passed since Senna's prime in the late 80s through the mid-90s. You are on this ride with Senna and you are given no option to get off as the tension builds.

Kapadia is able to pull this off because Senna's career coincided with the rise of video culture. He didn't have just one or two news clips to choose from for each significant event, as might have been the case had Senna been a star of an earlier era. No, the director had a veritable smorgasbord of options as everyone and their brother seemed to be sporting a video camera during this time period.

We get different angles of the same event. Close-ups of Senna in anguish over another driver's crash. Press conference footage showing the awkward tension between the rising star and his threatened World Champion teammate, Alain Prost. Who needs a carefully scripted dramatization of one man's personal quest for victory and redemption, say "Moneyball," when you can piece it together using the real players, in the real moment?

It's almost uncanny how well Kapadia assembled it all together. It's also a little frightening when you think about how the lives of today's legends in the making --or any of us average joes--could, twenty years from now, be reassembled, edited, beautifully scored (as "Senna" was by Antonio Pinto ) and retold to a public that was on the verge of forgetting.

But the film also made me feel manipulated. I fell in love with the handsome, driven young man with a heart of gold. How could you not the way he's portrayed in the film? I'm not exaggerating when I say Senna comes off as Christlike. He's devoted to his family. His faith in God never wavers. He never brags. He never accuses. He drives with intelligence, not bravado. He rarely loses, and when he does or (gasp) makes a mistake, he always acknowledges the lesson learned. He values life outside the track, dedicating resources to help poor children in his homeland and pondering where life will take him once his driving career inevitably winds down. Senna's entire nation, crippled by poverty and political oppression, rested its hopes on his bronzed shoulders.

If the man had a flaw, Kapadia doesn't show it. Even his sex life, which one must presume was robust, is merely winked at. We get no sense of Senna as a boyfriend, friend, lover. Even his familial relationships are mostly unexplored. Believe me, I wanted to go along with the "Senna as Saint" storyline. Everyone wants a hero. All the better if he actually existed. For my own enjoyment, I was willing to buy in. That was, until this prominent credit popped up at the film's conclusion:

Made with the cooperation of Institute Ayrton Senna

This is the charitable organization established by Senna's sister after his death.

All of a sudden it felt like I'd been taken in by a highly produced tribute video made by the Senna family in honor of their beloved Ayrton.  That doesn't make him any less captivating, nor does it mean I'm no longer moved by the film. In fact, I can't get it out of my head. It just has an asterisk beside it now.

But I'd say Kapadia's most impressive accomplishment is his ability to weave in to the story a sort of "Formula One 101." I knew nothing of the sport other than what Sacha Baron Cohen showed me in "Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby." At the close of "Senna," I understood the basics of the Grand Prix competition, both on the track and throughout the season. I got a feel for the politics and money that brought the sport to the relatively corrupt level of almost all professional sports. I even came to appreciate the immense skill the sport requires and why someone might find the thrill of being behind the wheel enough of a reason to put their life on the line.

So add an asterisk to my 2011 Best Of list and consider "Senna" to be on it.

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Obligatory Best of 2011 List

Well, here we are again. That time of year when I tell you how wrong it feels to whittle down an entire year's worth of films into a handy Best Of list. How does Terrence Malick's "The Tree of Life" stack up against Paul Feig's "Bridesmaids?" Do I opt for the silent glory of "The Artist" or the uncanny primates in "Rise of the Planet of the Apes?"

Film isn't just one thing -- a "movie." It's everything: art, entertainment, music, story, experimentation, hope, death, revolution, joy, sleaze, divinity, despair. To rank them on the same scale seems entirely unfair.

What I can do is offer an unranked list of titles that left an impression on me in 2011, whether for pure entertainment value, a breathtaking performance or a show of artistry that took a few viewings to fully appreciate. So here you have it, my list of notable films of 2011.

My top 5 (really 6) list appears in today's Union-Tribune. I've listed them here but click the link for a brief justification for each.

"The Artist"

"Buck" and "Bill Cunningham New York"

"Drive"

"Of Gods and Men"

"Hugo"

If I'd chosen my top five on another day, I could just have easily substituted one of these three films for "Hugo" (the other films are solidly in place).

"The Descendants"

While I was immediately blown away by Shailene Woodley's performance, it took two viewings of Alexander Payne's family dramedy to really draw me in -- but it was well worth it.

"Midnight in Paris"

With the exception of Rachel McAdams' shrill character, Woody Allen's Parisian fantasy was pure joy.

"The Tree of Life"

A visual poem that envelops you in memory, light, existence...until Sean Penn's mug drags you back to an unwelcome reality.

A few more films worthy of honorable mention:

"Certified Copy"

Having seen it only once, director Abbas Kiarostami's film is a puzzle that I've only half solved. I can't wait to give it another viewing and see what other pieces of this indeterminate relationship I can piece together. Either way,  it's impossible not be be taken in by Juliette Binoche.

"Last Lions" and "Project Nim"

I admit it, I'm a sucker for documentaries about animals, especially when they take out your heart and stomp it to bits. In "The Last Lions," the circle of life is to blame for one lioness' struggles. But chimpanzee Nim can point the finger at a few too many despicable humans.

"Like Crazy"

The level of intimacy director Drake Doremus can create through this mostly improvised film is sometimes more effective than you're prepared for. And actress Felicity Jones declares herself to be the Jessica Chastain of 2012 (I hope).

"Moneyball"
I was happy to see a movie about baseball with very little baseball in it (others saw this is a negative), but Brad Pitt's performance as Oakland A's general manager Billy Beane was the film's greatest accomplishment.

"Rise of the Planet of the Apes"

I went in thinking Franco could do no wrong. I walked out thinking, "Franco, who?" This prequel was the most enjoyable surprise of the year.

"Take Shelter"
If you don't know Michael Shannon's name by now, his performance as a husband and father battling apocalyptic visions is the perfect introduction. You most certainly know Jessica Chastain's name after this year, and you'll see why yet again here.

"Weekend"

A gem of a little film about a weekend-long romantic encounter between two young men that transforms them both in subtle, unexpected ways. 

Thanks to everyone who's joined me on this journey through the films of 2011. Here's to a 2012 full of good film, great friends and lots of love.

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"The Artist," and I'm sticking to it.

Jean Dujardin as George Valentin and
 Berenice Bejo as Peppy Miller in "The Artist."
AP Photo/The Weinstein Company

With my 4-star review of "The Artist," I give away one of my top picks of 2011 (the official list runs December 30). After winning a slew of awards from critics groups and festivals (including the San Diego Film Critics Society, which voted it Best Film, my vote included), this black and white silent film is now suffering through something of a backlash with accusations that its story is too slight, the content is low-brow, and its style is merely a "technical exercise" in filmmaking. Obviously I don't agree, though I can see some of what they're saying -- but I loved the film anyway. You can read why in my review.

I was thrilled to get the chance to interview the film's director, Michel Hazanavicius (a name I will forever know how to spell after fixing it in spell check dozens of times), a Frenchman who dazzled me with his ability to articulate the essence of American storytelling during our conversation and in the film itself. You can read the story here.

You also might want to check out Mike Ryan's (Moviefone.com) astute and entertaining explanation of why "It's OK to Like 'The Artist,'" in which he somehow manages to compare the film to the 90s band The Gin Blossoms -- and have it not be an insult.

A friend recently asked me what holiday movies are a must-see for her family, which includes a husband and two college-age sons. When I recommended "The Artist" she scrunched her face up and said with disbelief, "Really? Isn't that the silent movie?" as if that meant it was far too artsy-fartsy for her family's taste. My response was that this is a very mainstream film (hence the backlash, critics are supposed to hate anything mainstream, don't you know) that is perfect for the holidays because it just makes you feel good. 

The way things are going these days, I'll take it where I can get it.

Happy holidays to all! I'll post my top picks of 2011 next week.

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This post will not be about movies.

This post will not be about movies. I feel I deserve a short break from thinking about them after the tornado of screenings, screeners, think lists, nominations and voting I just experienced. (You can read how our critics group voted here and stay tuned later this week for my personal Best of 2011 list.)

Today I want to talk about another important part of my life -- my dog Luna, a border collie mix rescued in Baja after someone found her next to a litter of puppies that had been put into a garbage bag and thrown in the trash.  My (now ex) boyfriend and I adopted her 3 1/2 years ago from The Barking Lot, a phenomenal rescue group that's worth your support.

From the moment we met, I knew she was a sweet old soul. When she first approached me, she stood up on her hind legs up and gently placed her paws on my waist. I loathe dogs that jump on me (sorry labs) but this was different. After she jumped up, she every so gently pulled me in for a hug. I swear, I am not exaggerating.

She was a shedder with white fur - two of my supposed deal breakers right there. We didn't know how old she was and could see that her teeth were a total disaster. It was love at first sight.

Once we got her home it quickly became apparent that I was her go-to human. She was fine with my boyfriend, but only if I was nearby. If I left the room, the house, the dog park, she would go in to what we came to refer to as her "dogatonic" state -- on her back, stiff as a board, totally refusing to move or react, even if she ended up being carried home (she weighs over 40 pounds).

She soon got comfortable with my boyfriend and, eventually, most men. (I try not to imagine what happened to make her so fearful of men.) But she still hung on to a general anxiousness that took a lot longer to dissipate. In fact, I can recall the moment it happened.

It was just a typical early evening walk. All bathroom business before figuring out what's for dinner. On the way home I glanced down and saw my newly transformed dog. Her normally flattened out, suspicious ears were perked up high on her head with eager curiosity. Her normally tucked tail was raised parallel to the sidewalk and swishing side to side in all its bushy glory. Her fear was lifted. She was a confident, happy dog.

I know plenty of people, usually parents, who dismiss a devoted dog owner's love for their pet. Yes, I can admit that my dog (or my cat, who I've been gaga over since 1999) is not the same thing as a human being. I can't speak for the people who spend thousands of dollars on a pure-bred puppy shipped in from Oklahoma, but when I saw my abused, beaten-down rescue dog finally become so comfortable in the life I'd given her that her entire body language changed, well, that feels really damn good.

Since then, I've made it my mission to do whatever possible to keep her ears and tail at an upward angle. Lucky for me, what she required turned out to be exactly what I needed to keep me well-adjusted and (mostly) happy: regular walks through fresh air and pretty scenery, socializing with dog-walking neighbors and, particularly now that I'm single again, a living being who is so happy to see me at the end of the day that I rush home from work excited for the moment I open the door. So, basically, we're a good match.

Though Luna seemed as happy as one animal with emotional baggage could possibly be, a friend, who is also a veterinarian, recently noticed that her teeth looked pretty bad and were likely causing her pain. This was upsetting not just because of her suffering but because my bank account had already suffered $800 worth of dental bills the year prior to have her teeth cleaned and four pulled (like I said, her bad teeth were no secret to us when we adopted her).

To hear that the original vet had barely even dinged the problem was upsetting to say the least. Forget the money. It's the almost two years since then that piss me off. During that time, her infections worsened (as did her breath) and her life was just a little less perky perfect -- all for something we could've got right the first time if only we'd been told that her dental problems were too severe for this general practitioner's skill set.

Luckily, this vet friend told us about the best animal dentist in Southern California, Dr. Brook Neimiec at Dog Beach Dentistry. It wasn't cheap (cough, cough) but after an unspeakable number of extractions, two root canals and gum surgery to root out several infections that the experienced doctor described as "pretty nasty," she's on the road to being an even happier dog.

But first she needed to do a little more suffering post-surgery. This pathetically cute picture pretty much says it all.

Unlike humans, dogs pretty much put the bad experiences behind them almost as fast as they happened. By the end of day two, she was trying to get me to rough-play with her and leaping for joy when I gave her a treat (with a pill surreptitiously packed inside).

It also seems that, since her infections started clearing up, her sense of smell has improved dramatically. On our walks she is uncharacteristically stubborn, insisting that she sniff every blade of grass, branch and fire hydrant on our normal route. The same grass, branches and fire hydrants she has showed no interest in for the six months I've lived here. This passive (non-dogatonic) resistance is way out of character and actually really annoying. But once I figured out the likely cause, I got that same surge of grateful pride. Giving a dog back her sense of smell is like getting a paraplegic to walk again.

Her ears are perked. Her tail is lifted. She is happy again and better than ever (minus 11 teeth, that is). Mission accomplished.

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Scorsese for Kids

Asa Butterfield (left) plays Hugo Cabret and Chloe Grace Moretz
plays Isabelle in HUGO, from Paramount Pictures and GK Films.

Watching Martin Scorsese chatting it up on The Daily Show last week was a revelation. Or maybe it was just a good sales pitch. Either way, his easygoing, lighthearted interview was a far cry from the tightly wound, uber-serious director we've come to know over the decades. Considering his latest film, "Hugo," is aimed at children, I'd say that's a good thing.

I've had my own first-hand experiences with Scorsese over the course of my career -- first as an intern in his small New York production office, and later while working on an American Movie Classics event with his Film Foundation. While I walked away from these jobs with some darn good anecdotes (most notably the time his mother Catherine - you know her as the mother of Joe Pesci's character in "Goodfellas"- nervously pumped me for information about her overworked son when I went to her apartment to pick up a homemade calzone),  I also cite both experiences as the reasons why I opted out of the entertainment business as a career. Or at least the star-pleasing side of the business that requires one to jump at every command, scurry around in a hushed panic, and suppress the ballooning urge to scream, "DID YOU FORGET WHERE YOU CAME FROM?!"  Clearly this was not my cup of tea.

Now that I'm happily ensconced on the outside of that nonsensical hysteria, I don't have to think about what kind of plates the great director requires for his take-out pizza or what pants his tailor needs to alter. I can shove that stuff in the gossip bin where it belongs and enjoy the results of his lifelong dedication to filmmaking, which he puts on display in "Hugo" (read my review here).

That being said, I still like to spill an anecdote or two when the mood strikes.

Happy Thanksgiving!

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