As the end of yet another movie cycle draws to a close and all our attentions are focused on which flicks are "Oscar-worthy," we get an article from Time Magazine's Richard Corliss that ponders the question: What are film critics thinking? The piece, entitled (flatteringly enough) "Do Film Critics Know Anything?", wonders if there's an actual point to all this year-end glad-handing in which all the film critics and award-giving bodies fall all over each other to tell you how this arthouse film (that made $156,349) is better than this Lithuanian documentary about the wicker industry.

Here's a good section: "You will be forgiven if, like my friends at TIME, you are scratching your head and feigning interest, hoping I'll get quickly to the sexy stuff, like best non-fiction feature (the Iraq docs No End in Sight and Body of War and Michael Moore's Sicko) and distinguished achievement in production design (Jack Fisk, There Will Be Blood, L.A.) . Gee, you're wondering, did The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, the French story of a man totally immobilized by a stroke, beat out the German spy drama The Lives of Others? (Three out of five critics groups say yes.) If you're getting restless, movie lovers, too bad. You'll be hearing the same obscure names at the Golden Globes and on Oscar night." (Full article here.)

After reading through the article twice (and with all due respect to Mr. Corliss, an accomplished film critic if ever there was one), my response is this: Must everything be whittled down to the lowest common denominator? Have even the words "best" and "finest" been annexed by the committee that decides which DVDs get the biggest Walmart shelf? Obviously, "film critic" is a pretty excellent job, all things considered. But let the professional movie-watchers have their brief moment to spout off, praise some obscurities, and make their lists. If we're asked to muddle through eleven months of remakes, sequels, video game flicks, comic book movies, mindless action explosions, crotch-centric teen comedies ... why wouldn't you want a month in which OTHER movies earn the spotlight?

So if Sally Secretary has never heard of Persepolis or No Country for Old Men or The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, and the critics' year-end group-stroke for quality filmmaking actually turns her on to something more challenging than, say, Hairspray -- then what's the problem? Corliss closes his piece thusly: "...critics fighting over which hardly seen movie they want to call the best of the year." Hmph. Perhaps Mr. Corliss would like the Academy to institute something called Oscars 2, and everyone can vote in on how Night at the Museum is so much better than Meet the Fockers. (I call copyright on that idea!) I have no idea how "hardly seen" my favorite film of the year will be; it doesn't come out for a few weeks. Unfortunately for my reputation as a useful film critic, the film happens to be in Spanish. Darn.

So to offer just one lowly film critic's response to the query posed in the article's title: Yeah, film critics know a lot. Like how if Hollywood concentrated on making better movies, you'd see a lot more "popular" fare on a lot more nomination lists.

Though she co-starred in one of the biggest (and most enjoyable) films of the year -- in a role that catapulted her from that chick on Grey's Anatomy to mega movie star -- Katherine Heigl has decided to turn around and take a giant dump on the film that "made" her. In a new interview with Vanity Fair (via Us Magazine), the actress called Knocked Up "a little sexist" and adds: "It paints women as shrews, as humorless and uptight, and it paints the men as goofy, fun-loving guys. It was hard for me to love the movie." And your point is? First up, has Heigl ever watched a romantic comedy before? Doesn't she know that not all the characters can play freaks and geeks -- that some have to play it straight in order to up the conflict, the tension and the comedy? And what's wrong with being goofy and fun-loving? Isn't that the whole point of the film -- that Heigl plays a career gal on her way to a great promotion when she gets "knocked up" by a moron?

Seriously now, if she wants to go that route, then Rogen and Rudd could easily comment and say the film portrays all men as morons; as guys who don't want to commit, who hate their lives and who have no clear goals at all. If anything, Heigl and Leslie Mann are the most level-headed out of the whole lot. I don't see that as being "uptight," I see that as being stressed out that you just received a promotion only to find out that your idiotic one-night-stand knocked you up. I mean, what was her character supposed to do in that situation? Smoke a joint and play Nintendo? Reality check for Heigl: Guys obsess over sex. The website they wanted to create is a real website that exists in the real world. These characters were based, in some ways, on real people. I hate it when these actors and actresses trash a film they were in without saying what they would've done to correct the situation. Katherine Heigl thinks Knocked Up was sexist? Well I think 27 Dresses looks like absolute sh*t. Prove me wrong.

If you're a regular reader of this website, then you might have noticed a little something missing over the last two weeks. That missing something is ... me. So my apologies to all (five) of you who look forward to my movie reviews, horror news, and random blather -- but I'll be back in full force next week! Still, after the cinematic experience I had last night, I just had to take a break from my UK vacation and share this anecdote:

Thanks to some contacts here in England, I was able to wrangle an invite to a BAFTA screening of Robert Zemeckis' Beowulf -- and since I was assigned that title for Cinematical review, I figured it was a smart move to go see the flick now. But then I looked a little closer at the invitation: The screenings were being held the BFI London IMAX Cinema! In Hi-Def 3-D! Whoa! (Special thanks to Mr. Alan Jones and Warner UK for the invitation!)

Now, before I continue, I think it's important to share some of my opinions on filmmaker Robert Zemeckis: I think the guy's a great filmmaker, but also that his last few films (particularly The Polar Express) were more interested in technology than storytelling. But it's pretty tough to hold a grudge against the guy who gave us Used Cars, Roger Rabbit and the Back to the Future trilogy, plus I was really curious to see what screenwriters Neil Gaiman and Roger Avary were going to do with the classic Beowulf story, so off we went to the cinema: Myself, UK FrightFest co-honcho Paul McEvoy, Severance screenwriter James Moran, and Guardian film critic Phellim O'Neal. We climbed inside the stunningly massive IMAX theater, the lights went down, and ...

Wow.

My full review will arrive on Tuesday, but if you've never trusted me before, you simply must trust me on this: If you plan to go see Beowulf, you MUST see it in IMAX 3-D. Suffice to say that, for me, it was a cinematic experience on par with the first time I saw Star Wars. I felt like I was just being introduced to the future of movies -- and it was staggering to behold.

Plus the flick's pretty darn good.

Just the other day I wrote a little piece called The Best Horror Movies You Haven't Seen Yet (and I have a Part 2 and a Part 3 coming!), but one of our loyal readers made a simple request: Hey, why not offer a list of smaller-ish horror films that are on DVD that we probably haven't seen yet? And to that I say ... fair enough. But a warning to the serious horror fans before we go on: Odds are you've not only seen these movies already, but you also probably own the DVD and are listening to the director's commentary right now. I'm just tossing out a few of my oft-mentioned "under the radar" horror flicks to those who might need 'em. Which means we start with...

May (2002) -- I've probably written more about May than Stephen King has written about Castle Rock -- but every once in a while a "little" movie shows up out of nowhere and kicks you in the chin with some unexpected awesomeness. And even after multiple viewings, this deliciously off-kilter horror flick still packs a helluva punch. Great script, great cast, great ending, and a wonderfully strange lead performance by the willowy Angela Bettis. Rent Purchase this DVD. (Ack, and how could I forget Lucky McKee's follow-up, The Woods? '70s-style slow-burn chiller all the way, but I really liked it.)

Session 9 (2001) -- The number of people who've seen this flick is probably pretty small, but the number of those people who actually disliked the movie is extra-super-small. Brad Anderson's tale of ghosts, guilt and asbestos is one of the most quietly chilling haunted house film in quite some time. It's one of the few movies of the past decade that actually gave me chills, and I'm not ashamed to admit it. This mini-masterpiece is anchored by a powerfully good performance by Peter Mullan ... and the DVD is stocked with great extras. (Unfortunately I do believe that DVD is now out-of-print. Maybe I should track down a spare.)

Frailty (2001) -- Rare is the gore-free horror flick that inspires such aversion. No lie, I've spoken to at least a dozen grown-ups who dislike this movie because it just creeped them out that much. Call me nuts, but if I were the director I'd consider that a huge compliment. Bill Paxton does a fantastic job in front of (and behind) the camera, and the two kid actors are quite excellent -- but I'd contend that the star of Frailty is Brett Hanley's dark and deliciously twisted screenplay. (And I see copies of this swimming through Walmart's 5-dollar bin, so you have no excuse, people!)

Here it is: I'm sick of this Hollywood strike. I'm sick of hearing about it, I'm sick of writing about it, I'm sick of thinking about how many films could potentially suffer because they're being rushed into production faster than folks have time do dry the ink on their screenplays. It's ridiculous. I'm sick of reading quotes and analysis -- I'm sick of the words "new media" -- and I'm sick over the fact that, amidst all this, I haven't heard one person mention the average moviegoer. The person who's taking their wallet on a Saturday night, and shoveling out an absurd amount of money (if we're to include their hungry dates and/or children) to help pay the salaries of those who want to walk off the job.

"Oh, but the writers! It's the writers that are being shafted!" Yeah, talk to me when they're not making high six-figures on a script. I'm sure not all the writers are making that kind of money, but none of them are making minimum wage, busting their ass to put food on the table, living paycheck to paycheck while their significant other works three jobs. Perhaps there are working writers who don't make a fortune, but I doubt the extra "new media" dollars will help them get off welfare. I'm not exactly sure what the actors (SAG) and directors (DGA) are looking for (enough money to stop waitressing at Outback Steakhouse?), but how about we settle these damn disputes already. Is it really that hard? Do human beings exist out in Hollywood, or are they all designed to bleed absurd amounts of money out their ass?

Here's what I suggest: How about WE strike. What are WE getting? I didn't see a studio executive standing outside my screening of The Brothers Solomon with a coupon for a free tub of popcorn and a "Thank You" note after I spent 10 bucks on a ticket and another five on a small soda that gave me more gas than a 24-hour Taco Bell binge. They're threatening to walk off the job on June 1st -- how about WE stop seeing their films when that happens? There are plenty of things I could spend my money on (whatever little I make doing this -- yup, I don't have the luxury of being in a guild) -- perhaps I'll read a book. There's a friggin' thought! I'd like to know what Hollywood is giving us. You don't hear much about that, do you? Best case scenario: There's no strike and we continue to get crummy movies. Worse case scenario: There is a strike, we have to read about it twelve times a day, and we still get crummy movies. Man, do I wish us moviegoers had our own guild. Then we could threaten to strike, demand that with every fifth movie ticket we buy, we get two free. Demand that those so-called "value meals" inside theaters actually live up to what they're preaching, instead of raping the word for all its worth. What value? 13 bucks for a soda and a popcorn is a value? On what f**king planet?

So let's band together and strike on June 1st. While the actors, writers and directors fight over how many bags of money they get to stick under their pillows at night, we'll just do something else. Like read a book. Or take our loved ones out for dinner. Maybe then -- get this -- someone will actually appreciate us.

Many people don't transition well between careers, but Jason Lee smoothly slid from professional skateboarder -- with his own pair of Airwalks -- to slacker actor with no problem at all. Mallrats might not be a stellar example of comedic cinema, but it's an incredibly fun flick worth repeated viewings just to see Lee's Brodie Bruce talk about 'looking forward,' rant about escalator etiquette, rave about superhero sex, and drink out of a Dixie cup. Since then, he's acted in a number of films, but am I the only one who thinks that he solidly stink-palmed his own career?

After appearing in Kevin Smith's first studio feature, he followed the director to Chasing Amy, once again wooing us with the short-tempered tracer Banky Edwards. That follow-up was all Lee needed to form a loyal fanbase -- one that was helped by his continual involvement in Smith's films, as well as stints in others like Enemy of the State and Almost Famous. It was also a fanbase that allowed him to also take on some movies-for-money like Stealing Harvard and A Guy Thing without chastising him too much. So of course, he's been in crap, but the old crap ain't nothin' like the new crap.

Here's my impersonation of a conversation that goes down 294 times a day in video stores' horror sections around the country:

Gorehound #1: "Hey, let's get this: Wrong Turn 2: Dead End!"

Splatfreak #2: "No. I never heard of it. Did that even play in theaters?"

GH: "Um, I don't think so. But is that your basis for quality? If so we could rent ... this."

SF: "Turistas? Dude. Stop."

GH: "OK then. How about An American Haunting or Stay Alive or See No Evil or The Covenant or Blood and C..."

SF: "Stop! Dang, I think my ears are bleeding."

GH: "Heck, all these remakes get theatrical play. Let's do a triple feature of The Hitcher, The Fog and House of W ... Ow! Why'd you hit me?"

SF: "Because you're shattering my world! I was raised to believe that quality horror films get theatrical releases, while only the lamest cack imaginable goes straight to video!"

GH: "Yeah, well. Where'd you first see Dog Soldiers? And Behind the Mask? And May?"

SF: "On DVD."

Ta-da. Point made. Now, let's make one thing clear. If I said to you "Fox is releasing a DVD called Wrong Turn 2: Dead End next month," I'd completely understand if you rolled your eyes, audibly scoffed and muttered something like "life's too short, nerd" before sitting down to watch, I dunno, Meet the Fockers. Well first off that would be very rude. Second, you'd be missing out on a surprisingly entertaining little horror flick! I know, I was shocked too! First came a rather positive review from Fangoria (and they're not an outfit to suffer lame sequels lightly) and then I got a chance to review the flick for FEARnet, plus Jette will be giving it a spin at next month's Fantastic Fest. Yes, that's right: A "direct-to-video horror sequel" is getting a true-blue (theatrical!) world premiere at one of the coolest genre fests in the country. Fox probably had to strike ONE print just for this festival!

Yes, it's a movie made mainly for the old-school splatter fans, and no, it's not some revolutionary piece of genre cinema -- but when a DVD sequel turns out to be more entertaining than 75% of the theatrically-released horror movies, I figure that's worthy of a Fan Rant. So stop back after you've seen the flick, mutant fans, and tell me I'm not nuts and just starved for ONE half-decent horror flick.

And while you're at it, give the original Wrong Turn another shot. It's a basic, solid terror flick.

I don't have any children of my own -- but I have a lot of old friends who are precisely my age. And they ALL have kids. Big bunches of sticky, adorable, smart, loud, wonderful, moody kids. Once in a while I'll get an amusing little phone call that sounds a lot like this: "Hi Uncle Scott it's Robby do you wanna eet at Bugger King and get some Smimmpsons toys?" Now, when your seven-year-old godson asks you a question like that -- you really can't say no. (Truth be told I'd just eaten half a pizza, but I love this kid almost as much as I love The Simpsons.)

So off we go to Burger King and the three kids (Robby, 5-year-old Matty and 3-year-old Ms. Natalie) are on their extra-best behavior because ... they want the Simpsons Movie toys! So when we return to the table with a tray full of char-broiled meat and crusty chicken parts, the kiddies dive straight into their bags for their their plastic pals from Springfield. Robby finds a Spongebob keychain. Matty finds a mini Holly Hobbie doll. Natalie gets a Tonka Truck.

Screaming ensues.

Now, I know this sounds pretty stupid to the mature grown-ups of the world, but the phrases "while supplies last" and "we don't have any left" mean very little to children under the age of seven. They were getting Burger King as a special treat, the TV promised them a Simpsons toy for their troubles -- and they got rooked. So yes, crying did ensue. Weeping, bawling, monumental pouting, you name it. When I politely asked the counter-gal if they had any Simpsons toys in the back, she semi-rolled her eyes and said "No, we ran out yesterday morning" -- which I found really strange since I'd been there the night before and bought a Homer Simpson figure along with a large vanilla milk shake. (Yeah, I collect 'em too. Even I have my weaknesses.)

Sometimes you find yourself pulling for an actor like you would for a favorite athlete or politician. (Hey, it could happen.) You know the drill, movie fans: You discover a performer in an early role, you take notice, and you then chart the course of that career as time goes by. Sometimes you're thrilled (like when my beloved Jennifer Connelly won an Oscar) and sometimes you're bummed (like when Jason Lee signs on for not only Underdog, but Alvin and the Chipmunks, too, for cryin' out loud) -- and sometimes you're left wondering just what the hell is going on...

Such is my perspective on Canadian actor Nathan Fillion. The way I see it, the guy could (with just a little help) become the next Harrison Ford (or OK, maybe Kurt Russell). On the other side, he could become the next Bruce Campbell -- which wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing. Mr. Campbell has always resided on just this side of "the mainstream," seemingly more than content to dole out his genre-style goodies for the established fans who love the stuff while occasionally popping up in Hollywood flicks. And it's not like Bruce Campbell is having trouble keeping his bills paid.

But with only a handful of TV series and just a fistful of noteworthy movie roles, Mr. Fillion's career seems to be at an impasse: In one direction lies box office superstar. In the other ... legions of adoring fans who'll always make Fillion the most popular guy at the comics convention. Not a bad gig either way, but here's how we've arrived at this point: