Digital Dretzka

As far as I know, Pulitzer Prize-winners and presenters aren’t awarded gift baskets for showing up at the annual banquet saluting the best in the business of journalism … not yet, anyway. A handful of bloggers pay attention, but the ceremony isn't televised … except, maybe, on C-SPAN ... and no one in Las Vegas sets odds on the outcome. Even if it were shown on CBS, the ratings for the telecast would make those for the Tony Awards look like a packed house at the Rose Bowl, by comparison.

With few exceptions, newspaper writers and editors aren’t much more charismatic than the average CPA.

This isn’t to say, however, that the Pulitzer process is any less intriguing and potentially controversial than that of any other award-presenting body. That’s clear from all the heavy breathing occurring in and around Times Square over Manohla Dargis’ nomination by the New York Times in the criticism category. The biggest difference between such behind-the-back sniping in the newspaper dodge, and the gossiping that occurs prior to the Oscars, Emmys and Globes, is that the prospect of a Pulitzer is the only thing that keeps many journalists from mass suicide. Being named a finalist is a great honor – and it looks good on an obituary, if anyone remembers to mention it – but, too often, the reward for a journalist’s hard work, long hours and low pay begins and ends with consolation handshake and a one-line mention in Editor & Publisher.

The brass, of course, get mileage out of the awards in the form of hearty slaps on the back from their peers at the Chamber of Commerce and temporary bragging rights at conventions. Too many publishers, though, use the honor as evidence that budget cuts, staff purges and frozen salaries don’t necessarily result in reduced coverage, which is bollocks. (At the Los Angeles Times, the checks awarded to its many Pulitzer-winners two years ago had hardly cleared the bank before Tribune Co. started cutting costs.)

One multiple Pulitzer-winner told me recently that it’s become easier to win top honors in the investigative category simply because fewer papers are expending the money, time and staffing necessary to do it correctly. The odds-on favorites for any top prize are the papers that take investigative journalism seriously. These include the NYT, LAT, Washington Post and Wall Street Journal, but no longer the Philly Inquirer (part of a fire sale by its new owner) and ChiTribune (for which I once toiled, and whose prestige has been eclipsed by properties in its own chain).

As the Oscar and Emmy runners-up say, though, it’s a great honor simply to be nominated for a Pulitzer. It really is.

The process requires newspapers, magazines or individuals – and, yes, reporters, columnists and photographers can nominate themselves – to submit a proscribed number of examples of work (10, at most, in the criticism category) to the Pulitzer Prize Board of Columbia University, along with $50. Nominating committees of distinguished, if hand-picked journalists narrows the entries to three, and submits them to the board, which makes the final decisions.

It is at this exact point where the Pulitzer Board begins to take on all the trappings of the Kremlin and Pentagon. The judges are allowed to do almost anything they want with the suggested finalists, including ignoring them completely and denying anyone a prize in a specific category. They also can move finalists from one category to another, or throw in a dark horse. Politics, back-scratching and personal peccadilloes have come into place often enough to have encouraged nominators to leak the names of their choice of finalists, if only so deserving candidates aren’t shafted too badly.

Typically, though, so much good work is being done out there that it’s tough to argue about the eventual winners, and controversies quickly fade. That is, until some spoilsport charges a winner with plagiarism or sheer invention of facts.

The judges in the criticism category often are cited as being among the most capricious in the whole bunch. Having been assigned the duty of collecting specimens of critical work for possible submission to the board, myself (many big papers now afford full-time awards submitters), I’ve seen “shit happen,” and understand the intrigue surrounding l’affaire Dargis. Editors, like judges, play games. The work of pals and pet projects occasionally get preference over other worthy submissions, and nominations can be withheld from employees who haven’t kissed enough editorial ass or towed the company line. I’ve known writers who have nominated themselves, fearing their bosses have lied to them about being submitted (they have), and, like Hollywood’s for-your-consideration ads, some are nominated pro forma as a condition of their contracts.

If either Tony Scott or Ben Brantley has a beef, as reported, he ought to consider sidestepping his bosses, and nominating himself … or have someone else do it for them. If one somehow managed to win, he probably could handle the ensuing hissy-fit of their editors by playing the LA Times card, and threatening to move west (that’s happened, too).

The category also is more likely to reward classical music, dance, literature and architecture critics over all others. TV criticism has garned four awards, and theater only one (rock and hip-hop writers needn’t even apply). As if to prove the rule, though, they’ll occasionally throw in a ringer, such as the LAT’s fine automotive critic Dan Neil.

Only three film critics have been so honored: Roger Ebert in 1975, Stephen Hunter in 2003 and, last year, Joe Morgenstern. Twenty-eight years passed between Ebert’s and Hunter’s, but only two between Hunter’s and Morgenstern’s. Normally, this would mean that Dargis – or any other deserving film critic – would have to wait a couple of years for her turn. Given the Times’ immense clout, however, anything is possible.

Posted by Gary Dretzka at 08:30 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

“MCN columnist Gary Dretzka's report about bigger theatre seats and implied American obesity levels doesn't just raise intriguing questions -- it could serve as the starting point for a comedy skit. Dretzka wrote from Showest that "representatives of seat manufacturers confirmed [during the festival] that the width of the average chair has expanded from around 18-20 inches, to 22-24 inches. Since volume is important to exhibitors, it's logical to think that this adjustment was made necessary for reasons other than pampering their customers' rear ends." But how did this obviously major business decision (think of the revenue downscalings due to fewer seats per theatre) come to pass? Presumably theatre owners were getting complaints from their tuba-sized customers about the seats being too small, but how many (are there statistics?) and for how long a time? At precisely what point did the Jabba-sizing of America reach red-alert proportions as far as theatre seats were concerned, leaving exhibitors backed against the wall with no choice but to invest and accommodate?”

Also posted was this response from plus-size reader Roderick Durham:

"Tuba-sized customers? The Jabba-sizing of America? Funny, Jeff. I'm one of those people. Not morbidly obese, but a big guy. I've been this size for over ten years. I spend a lot of money going to the movies, and have loved doing so since I was about ten years old. I have never complained of the size of seats, but I have had to squeeze into some seats that seemed especially small. If new seats are being made for those of us who need it, what the fuck difference does it make to you? Do you really think you don't have readers and fans who aren't overweight? Please tell me you're not this insensitive a fucking prick. I'd be the first to whoop somebody's motherfucking ass if they said this kind of shit to my face."

And, here DD (a.k.a. Digital Dretzka) thought the item on Floss ‘n Toss would draw the most response.

When embarking on this journey, DD was told that keeping blog items brief was the best policy. Some of what was left out might answer Jeff’s questions.

For one thing, while incidences of obesity – and, standing alongside Jeff, most of us would appear plump – have increased, so has the girth of the average American. Apparently, though, the shift toward larger seats began at approximately the same time that exhibitors finally acknowledged – duh—that their shoebox-sized auditoriums, with small screens, paper-thin walls, sticky floors, pre-fab popcorn and crappy sightlines, actually were a major factor in the abandonment of multiplexes by discerning viewers. By the late-’80s and early-’90s, the downturn had reached crisis proportions. Something drastic had to be done, and the introduction of cup-holders would only be the start of the revolution.

Borrowing a Vietnam-era defense – “We had to destroy the village, in order to save it …” – a handful of visionary exhibitors realized that it would better to start from ground up, than attempt temporary fixes. (It was also at about this time that the Americans With Disabilities Act required that theaters not only be accessible to patrons in wheelchairs, but they also had to provide them with an equivalent viewing experience.) Stadium seating offered a way to appease everyone, and, given the statistics provided by butt-oligists and seat manufacturers, adding wider seats also made ergonomic sense.

In 1995, AMC introduced its first “megaplex” complex, in Dallas, and, along with it, the “Euro-chair” concept. The rest, as they say, is history.

Even so, many adults had permanently soured on the movie-going experience, shifting their allegiances to the local video store, instead. It took something monumental to encourage these lost customers to sample the new, improved theaters, and that something turned out to be “Titanic.” In time, “love seats,” high-back chairs and other similarly plush amenities would be added to the menu, and, now, probably are taken for granted by everyone over the age of 12 (and those who fit the physical profile of an NFL lineman).

Even considering last year’s downward blip in attendance, the economic impact has been substantial, more than making up for the number of seats sacrificed in the renovations. Record attendance and box-office hauls followed in the wake of the megaplex boom, and, even if the movies weren’t significantly better, adults were far more willing to give them a try. Now, of course, arthouse chains are following suit, providing hope for a those appalled by Hollywood fare.

One manufacturer’s rep who DD met at ShoWest said that he was asked by a client in Minnesota to install new, high-end seats in his theater, but to keep them at the old standard width of about 20 inches. Oh, and be sure to add cup holders, too. After reminding the client that his theater was in Minnesota, where people wasted little energy fretting over their girths, he pleaded with him to increase the seat size by two inches, at least. Alas, no.

Naturally, four months after the seats were installed, the client’s boss called the rep, demanding to know why he put in seats that were too narrow for his customers. The “I told you so” could be heard across three state borders.

Posted by Gary Dretzka at 09:15 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

And, speaking of Floss ‘n Toss … being of the Boomer generation, DD naturally wondered if the good folks at StaiNo LLC had attempted to get the seal of approval of the American Dental Association, which had done wonders for sales of Crest and Colgate. David Antler, the company’s president, allowed that an ADA endorsement now costs in the neighborhood of $75,000. Given that most people already understand the benefits of flossing, that money probably could be better spent elsewhere.

Kind of breaks your heart, though, doesn’t it? DD hadn’t been this disheartened since it learned that the Motion Picture Academy extorted money from companies hoping to donate goods and services to the gift baskets handed out to under-privileged Oscar nominees and presenters. And, now, it’s been revealed the IRS considers those baskets to be so valuable (see how hype can backfire?) that they constitute payment, in lieu of cash, and are therefore taxable. What is this world coming to, anyway?

Posted by Gary Dretzka at 09:13 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

A report that found its way into the Los Angeles Times’ Quick Takes column last Saturday has revealed that Americans are investing more time watching sitcoms than a dozen years ago, but fewer are getting their yucks from shows selected for them by network programmers. Magna Group’s research has discovered that 4.84 hours/week currently are being wasted – er, devoted – to the viewing of sitcoms, which is up from 3.78 hours in the 1993-94 season. In another startling revelation, the ad-buying concern announced that a mere 13 percent of viewers are watching those sitcoms on the major prime-time broadcast network, down from 56 percent.

It seems that audiences have abandoned the broadcasters for such sitcom-dominated cable services as Nick at Nite and TBS. In other day-parts, syndicated reruns also cut into original programming. Is this news?

Also on Saturday, the mailman delivered a magazine with yet another of those ludicrous cover stories on the top-10-this or best-100-that. The editors of Entertainment Weekly, which balances the wisdom of its critics with vomit-inducing puff pieces on expensive Hollywood garbage, devoted most of the current issue to the premise, “TV Is King.” In an argument DD has heard every decade since the ’50s, EW stipulates that we’re now enjoying the Golden Age of television. It goes on to find 84 “best” shows – no more, no fewer – and offers a TiVo-friendly critics’ guide to weekly viewing.

If it weren’t so quaint – employing Old Media principles to New Media technology -- EW’s prime-time grid might have been worthwhile. By assuming that TiVo users don’t use the appliance to speed through commercials, while also time-shifting, it ignores the fact that most are able to cram four hours worth of network fare into a three-hour prime-time slot, and few choices are prompted by “water-cooler” debates. Neither does it take into account those 30 weeks a year when most series are in re-run, or AWOL altogether. And, a mere 84 shows? Well, that may be true if viewers were ignorant of the bonanza of niche programming on channels as diverse as BET Jazz and the Horse Racing Network. BBC America and Oxygen offer a dozen sitcoms – and a handful of dramas -- that are better than most of the new titles on the broadcast networks (and most of the sitcoms succeed without benefit of a laugh track).

Don’t believe me? Sample O’s new “Suburban Shootout,” “Nighty Night” and “Campus Ladies,” and BBC-A’s “Footballers Wive$,” “”Mile High” and “The Vice.”

The publishers of glossy magazines labor mightily over such moronic lists and graphic devices – they’re easy to produce, perform well on newsstands and appeal to advertisers and publicists (who compete for placings) – but their writers tend not to expend much energy on them. Why waste well-considered criticism, when all that’s required is something glib and catty? The only thing that matters is the celebrity head count.

On Monday, too, the LA Times reminded us that we’re in the middle of TV’s “pilot season,” during which hopeful production studios cobble together potential hits, and broadcast executives fill holes in next season’s schedule. Hope springs eternal. Fact is, though, no one knows what’s going to click or have legs, but, by adding a celebrity to the recipe, studios know they’ll at least get their products mentioned in the newspapers and trades. (James Woods, Virginia Madsen, Jeff Goldblum and Ray Liotta, hope to make us forget Heather Graham, Matt LeBlanc and the bizarre collapse of Geena Davis’ “Commander in Chief.”)

Still, it’s difficult to find much sympathy for an industry that continues to cannibalize itself. The controversy over release “windows” is intense, but little fuss is made over the TV-to-DVD phenomenon, which requires the nearly instantaneous exploitation of inventory.

Ten years ago, a show required a run of 100 episodes to ensure a second life in syndication. Today, even short-run failures are re-packaged and sent out as if they were hits. Continuing series arrive in DVD arrive within months of the most recent sweeps period.

It doesn’t take a genius to understand the impact of TV-to-DVD on normal business channels in TV Land. What began as a cool way to give consumers another shot at enjoying vintage programming -- with commentary and bonus features – has evolved into a virtual-syndication enterprise.

Folks don’t have to subscribe to HBO and Showtime to enjoy every single moment of “The Sopranos” and “Huff.” They merely have to be patient.

Contrary to what Magna and EW’s “TV Is King” issue would lead us to believe, viewers rule the kingdom, and it’s the programmers who are scrambling to keep their heads. Consumers can own entire seasons of their favorite shows, and program them into whatever slot they damn well please, sans commercials, or they can fall back on such diverse fare as “Have Gun -- Will Travel,” “Sgt. Bilko,” “The Dick Cavett Show,” “The Merv Griffin Show,” “Doctor Who” and “The Judy Garland Show,” as well as the staples of Nick at Nite … all of which would be wasted on iPod.

And, yet, millions of people around the world continue to leave home on weekends to catch a ballgame, eat dinner or watch a movie. Go figure.

Posted by Gary Dretzka at 09:11 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Horn introduced director Wolfgang Petersen, who, in turn, rambled on about how “passionate” he was about his re-make of the 1972 disaster epic, “The Poseidon Adventure” (let’s hope someone thinks of dedicating it to the memory of Shelley Winters). If the clip didn’t appear to overwhelm folks in the audience, it probably was because they’d already seen something very much like it on NBC last fall. The ILM-rendered tidal wave looked pretty spectacular, but the B-list cast – Richard Dreyfuss, Emmy Rossum, Kurt Russell, Jacinda Barrett and Josh Logan – hardly inspired confidence. Bryan Singer’s “Superman Returns” will be the no-brainer option for July 4 viewing, and M. Night Shayamalan’s “Lady in the Water” shows promise, if only because of the estimable presence of Paul Giamatti and a spooky Bryce Dallas Howard.

It would be interesting to know if WB green-lit “Happy Feet” before or after its arthouse division picked up “March of the Penguins.” George Miller’s cute-as-button computer-animated feature has all the trappings of a fictional sequel to the wildly popular documentary. In this case, however, the Emperor penguins are less interested in marching than dancing … tap dancing. Among the voice actors are Robin Williams, Hugh Jackman, Nicole Kidman, Elijah Wood and Brittany Murphy, names the assembled exhibitors probably would have preferred to add to their marquees for “Poseidon.” Do penguins have legs? We’ll see.

Meanwhile, MGM execs showed clips from their first lineup: "Lucky Number Slevin," "Harsh Times," "I Could Never Be Your Woman," "Fragile," "Breaking and Entering," "The Flock" and "Van Wilder Deux: The Rise of Taj." Anyone feel like wagering on how long it will take for Kirk Kerkorian to buy back and then re-sell the company?

The Final Night Banquet finally provided attendees an opportunity to use their cellphone cameras. This year’s honor roll was odd, indeed, in that the committee seemed just as interested in anticipating stellar performances and box-office success, as it was in rewarding good work already in the books. For example, neither director of the year, Shayamalan, nor male star of year, Jackman, actually had a picture in release in 2005. Nor did “stars of tomorrow,” Brandon Routh or Jennifer Hudson. Laurence Fishburne is an excellent actor – better than most -- but there are plenty of others who had better decades. Other winners were Dakota Fanning, Vince Vaughn and Consumer Choice-pick “The Chronicles of Narnia.”

Posted by Gary Dretzka at 09:09 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Much of the fun for civilians attending ShoWest comes in strolling through the aisles of the exhibition hall, where the latest trends in concessions, furniture, cleaning supplies and technology are put on display. This year, there were few products that caused any kind of a stir, but one or two managed to stand out in the crowd.

The attractive soda jerks at the Coke and Pepsi booths were pushing energy drinks and flavored water, alongside staple soft drinks. Even Tab was juiced up with caffeine – and some kind of Chinese root or herb – so it could compete with the high-octane youngsters. Coke unveiled its new Black line, which combines the familiar tonic with coffee. I hated it, but it appears as if I’m in the minority.

The single most intriguing new concession item was StaiNo’s Floss ’N’ Toss, which qualifies as one of those why-didn’t-I-think-of-it ideas. The product is sold in the same vending machines that typically dispense plastic capsules filled with cheap trinkets and candy. The company simply has crammed its retail dental floss device into the bubbles, in hopes of attracting consumers who enjoy a good floss after their popcorn. Each 50-cent capsule contains four flossers, which, one hopes, will be disposed of in an empty popcorn box or napkins, instead of being thrown on the floor with the uneaten nachos. Sounds bizarre, but I think it will be a hit.

If any further proof of America’s obesity crisis were needed, representatives of seat manufacturers confirmed that the width of the average chair has expanded from around 18-20 inches, to 22-24 inches. Since volume is important to exhibitors, it’s logical to think that this adjustment was made necessary for reasons other than pampering their customers’ rear ends. They probably got tired of using shoe horns to extract patrons from their seats.

Posted by Gary Dretzka at 10:48 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Typically, Altman’s cameras bounce repeatedly from the on-stage performances to the shenanigans backstage. Keillor’s regular cast of actors and musicians is joined by a motley chorus that includes Woody Harrelson, John C. Reilly, L.Q. Jones, Meryl Streep, Lily Tomlin, Maya Rudolph and Lindsay Lohan. Kevin Kline channels both Philip Marlowe and Inspector Clouseau in his wacky portrayal of an old-fashioned shamus, Guy Noir, who becomes enchanted with an enigmatic blond stalker (Virginia Madsen). All are wonderful, including tabloid diva Lohan, whose character is the daughter and niece of singing sisters played by Streep and Tomlin.

Comparisons to “Nashville” are as inevitable as they might be welcomed by the distributors. Indeed, “Prairie Home Companion” could easily be considered a tonal sequel to that landmark film. But, all of Altman’s best films resemble each other in one way or another, and it’s difficult to imagine anyone objecting to a revisiting of that classic. Altman, who began his career as a writer of radio shows, uses the picture to remind contemporary audiences of what the medium has meant to several generations of Americans, just as Woody Allen did in “Radio Days” and, to a lesser, George Lucas in “American Graffiti.”

Berney is counting on the “Prairie Home” brand – along with positive word-of-mouth from its core audience – to push attendance for the June release. Let’s see … 4 million listeners, at $8 a ticket …

Posted by Gary Dretzka at 10:47 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Tuesday night, a mere 72 hours after the wrap party, writer-director John Lasseter introduced “Cars” to two S.R.O. crowds of exhibitors at ShoWest. As the son of an art teacher and purveyor of automotive products, he described the project as a labor of love. His obsession with cars from the grand era of fins, chrome and horsepower is palpable.

The story centers on Lightning McQueen, a cocky rookie in a NASCAR-like racing circuit – all of the characters are anthropomorphic automobiles – who, on his way to a match race in California, is sidetracked to a dusty little town on Route 66 that hasn’t recovered from the completion of the Interstate system. Finding himself among a community of vintage cars, he is forced to listen to, make friends with and learn from common folk. Naturally, Lightning falls for a sexy sports car, but not before he’s learned a few lessons in humility.

Intended to go out with a “G” rating, “Cars” must appeal to the full audience spectrum if it’s going to meet the expectations of Wall Street and Hollywood wags. While the story is consistently amusing and the animation is impeccable -- often breathtaking in its clarity of detail -- it feels long at nearly two hours. Half-way through, Lasseter applies the brakes on the fast-paced action long enough to elaborate on the story’s romantic and redemptive aspects. Whether kids will sit still during these interludes is a question that test audiences will be asked many times in the coming months.

The response from exhibitors was very positive, however, and may signal an opportunity for cross-demographic success. Lasseter wisely chose to populate the film with specimens from 100 years of automotive history, especially mid-20th Century models with distinct personalities built into their designs. Grandparents will enjoy sharing their memories of favorite cars with the young ’uns, most of whom have never seen a car that didn’t look exactly like 30 others just down the street.

Some of these same cars – borrowed from the collection at the Imperial Palace – were on display at the lavish after-party. Disney even convinced Texas Instruments to change the color scheme of the DLP HDTV racer it sponsors, to match that of Lightning McQueen for one major NASCAR contest. It’s appropriate, as “Cars” is a movie that should only be experienced on a large screen in an auditorium equipped with a digital projector.

Posted by Gary Dretzka at 10:03 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Not that anything’s changed, really. None of boogey-men that journalists claimed were responsible for last year’s “slump” -- miniscule DVD-release windows, cross-platform distribution of content, intense competition for consumer eyeballs, a mass aversion to in-theater advertising viewers who refuse to turn off their cellphones – have been eliminated as obstacles to growth. They’re lurking in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to pounce on beleaguered exhibitors.

At the Q&A session held Tuesday after their state-of-the-industry addresses to an assembly of theater owners – most of whom probably were there to get a sneak peek at “Mission Impossible 3” -- NATO president John Fithian took issue with how the slump was reported.

“We had a terrific fourth-quarter, but no one wrote about that,” he asserted. “Instead, dozens of stories were written about this tiny independent movie (Bubble) that had started a ‘revolution’ in release patterns. It made $145,000 and disappeared … but, again, nothing.

“It’s all about the stories – the movies, themselves – and, from what I’ve seen, the line-up for the next two years is excellent.”

Typically, hope springs eternal at ShoWest, where the cream of the crop is put on display in special screenings, product reels and endless displays of one-sheets. It was here, for example, that exhibitors first saw “Shrek,” “My Big Fat Greek Wedding” and “Crash,” and select scenes from “Spider-Man II,” “Episode III”and “Eyes Wide Shut.” Even such train wrecks as “Stealth.”

Monday night, exhibitors were able to sample such indie hopefuls as “Kinky Boots,” “On a Clear Day,” “Friends With Money,” “Confetti,” “Hard Candy” and “An Inconvenient Truth.” The latter title documents Al Gore’s international crusade for global-warming awareness. It could have been a deadly dull experience, but the former VP came across – on screen, and in Q&A’s that followed each showing – as poised, persuasive and charismatic … everything he wasn’t in the 2000 presidential campaign.

Davis Guggenheim’s cameras followed Gore as he traveled around the world to present his “slide show,” which makes the best possible use charts, graphs, grim statistics and scenes of disintegrating ice shelves. Even so, “An Inconvenient Truth” is neither overtly partisan nor without humor.

Gore’s announced presence clearly elevated the documentary from easy-to-ignore to must-see status. Like a Washington lobbyist, the Bill Clinton’s second-in-command presented exhibitors with a list of altruistic reasons for booking the film. It wasn’t until he mentioned that an army of volunteers would participate in an extensive grass-roots marketing campaign that the theater owners started sensing the potential for it as a sleeper hit on the order of “Fahrenheit 9/11” and “March of the Penguins.”

“How many of you saw the ‘Penguins’ movie during the first week of its release?” Gore asked, knowing full well how the audience would respond. “Now, how many of you were encouraged to see it by a friend, relative or by a newspaper or magazine article? Almost everyone …

“We’d like to see you make the same commitment to our picture … play this card! There will be a groundswell of support for ‘An Inconvenient Truth,’ as well.”

The other picture to attract a large crowd was Nicole Holofcener’s “Friends With Money,” if only because of a star-studded cast that includes Jennifer Aniston, Joan Cusack, Greg Germann, Scott Caan, Frances McDormand and Catherine Keener. Like the writer-director’s “Lovely & Amazing” and “Walking and Talking,” the hard-to-classify romance/drama/comedy might be described as a “thinking woman’s chick flick.” Whether Aniston can draw flies at the box-office remains open to question.

Tuesday morning’s opening ceremony didn’t reveal much beyond the same negative stats already distributed to the press last, in the MPAA’s pre-emptive press release. Organization chairman and CEO Dan Glickman, a former Secretary of Agriculture, announced plans for a generic promotional campaign on the order of “Pork … the Other White Meat,” “Beef … It’s What for Dinner” and “Got Milk?” He’s also supporting AFI head Jean Firstenberg in her drive to have Congress declare a week in March as “National Movie Week.” Money already has been set aside for a major survey to determine consumer attitudes about film-going, as well as more anti-piracy campaigning.

Knowing that none of these efforts will vastly improve the in-theater experience or raise attendance by more than a few degrees, Glickman also called on movie studios to produce better movies.

“The power of the story always has been and will continue to be the key to our success,” he said.

He probably was pleased by producer Paula Wagner and director J.J. Abrams’ choice of clips from “M:I-3.” In Tom Cruise will match wits with recent Oscar-winner Philip Seymour Hoffman, who plays a diabolical villain. Even as ShoWest teasers go, the presentation was exciting and likely to boost enthusiasm for a May box-office renaissance.

Immediately afterward, Lionsgate Films presented its much smaller in stature, “Akeelah and the Bee.” It tells the uplifting story of a young girl from South-Central Los Angeles, and her efforts to make the National Spelling Bee. The latest addition to the ever-growing subgenre of spelling, chess and math dramas stars Angela Bassett, Laurence Fishburne and Keke Palmer.

Tuesday night, the exhibitors were invited to preview Disney/Pixar’s highly anticipated “Cars.” Other screenings include Robert Altman’s “A Prairie Home Companion,” Paramount/DreamWorks’ “Over the Hedge,” New Line’s “Take the Lead” and a product reel from Warner Bros.

More on those, later …

Posted by Gary Dretzka at 09:04 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)