The Steve McQueen Blog-a-thon

The Steve McQueen Blog-a-thon has ended. Many thanks to the event's contributors. There's lots of great reading here. Enjoy!

Day 4

The Blob (1958)
By Doniphon - The Long Voyage Home
Steve stutters, making up nonsense, eventually trailing off and laughing. But as he looks at the officer his dying laugh becomes something else, and even as Steve the character sets out to tell the aw shucks officer he'll never do "it" again, Steve the icon practically sneers. Those (goddamn soulful) eyes look out, that vein in his forehead we know emerges, and he seems to say, "I don't deserve this." It becomes clear; McQueen the star was McQueen the star long before he ever was one, and he ain't going to be doing this bullshit forever.

Bullitt Points on Steve McQueen
By Jason Bellamy - The Cooler
I expressed most of my Steve McQueen thoughts in my two previous submissions to the Steve McQueen Blog-a-thon: the “5 for the Day” piece at The House Next Door and the video essay “Steve McQueen: King of the Close-Up.” But here are a few more ruminations and ramblings related to the King of Cool.

Le Mans
By Tony Dayoub - Cinema Viewfinder
What's amazing about Le Mans, a film which was branded as McQueen's Folly even as it was being made, is how well it still holds up today. Racing films always seem so full of cinematic potential, speed being the most attractive factor. Yet with rare exception does it ever pan out. I'm speaking strictly from a cinephilic perspective since I am not qualified to render even the most basic opinion about auto racing or even cars (so this is your opportunity to take me to task in the comments section if you have a stronger argument). But contemporary auto racing films like Days of Thunder (1990), Driven (2001), even Pixar's Cars (2006) seem to place a priority on artificially raising tension through camera placement; if one's point-of-view resides amongst the vehicles jockeying for position, then one should get the feel for what it's like to be a driver in one of these competitions. It's just a bunch of horseshit, if you ask me.

The Sand Pebbles (1966) - Part 2 - The River Battle Sequence
By Hokahey - Little Worlds
Especially during the 1960s, the heyday of the widescreen historical epic, battle scenes were everywhere. But this one stands out. I like how it uses extreme long shots to establish the setting and the situation the San Pablo is in, and when it comes to the battle, close-ups are used sparingly for dramatic effect, and loosely framed medium to long shots capture the hand-to-hand combat, making the action clearer, unlike the claustrophobic, in-your-face framing of much of the battle action in films these days.

Day 3

For Steve
By Jay C. - Funny Farm
There's always this discussion on what people are actors and what people are stars. I'm no movie critic and McQueen's acting skills can be debated maybe, I don't know, I live in Holland and I can't remember him getting any big awards like an Oscar or anything at the time. Not that it matters, to me he is the real meaning of the word actor, more so than the word star, although he was that too, a big one.

The Kid's Break
By Jamie Yates - Chicago Ex-Patriate
When notes or conversations arise about Steve McQueen's beginnings, the first two names that understandably come up are The Blob and the television show Wanted: Dead or Alive. Further fame would come with his more memorable roles in the 1960s and 1970s, but a little-discussed aspect of his start is his first teaming with John Sturges in 1959's Never So Few. Perhaps the fact that this film doesn't garner much attention is because it's a movie weighed down with limitations and a generally poor script.

The McQueen Persona, Part II: The Imprisoned Free Spirit (The Great Escape & Papillon)
By Steven Santos - The Fine Cut
In Part 1 of this series (see Day 1), I discussed the one aspect of the McQueen Persona, the Righteous Rebel, in two of his films, Bullitt and An Enemy of the People. I had admitted that both films were both rather flawed films that were elevated by McQueen's performances, but never quite pushed him as far enough in challenging that aspect of his persona. As we take a look at a different aspect of the McQueen Persona, The Imprisoned Free Spirit, not only are both films much stronger, one of which I consider a genuine classic, but they do quite an effective job at building McQueen's image while almost cutting him back down to size in a way that few parts designed for movie stars rarely do these days.

Seeing The Great Escape (1963)
By Hokahey - Little Worlds
I was 11 years old, living in San Mateo, California, in a suburban home that had a small backyard with a lawn and a wooden shack used as a garden shed. The shack had a door, windows with glass, and a concrete floor with a hole in it. My two brothers and I, along with a couple of neighbor kids, pulled away more pieces of concrete and started digging straight down. Then we tunneled out under the foundation and the front wall. Surreptitiously, we dispersed the dirt in the backyard garden beds, sometimes holding handfuls in our hands, walking through the garden, and dropping them as we walked. A neighbor friend made a wooden tray that we filled with dirt and placed over the mouth of the tunnel to conceal it. Our secrecy fooled the German “guard” who sometimes looked over us from the kitchen window over the sink. (Well, she was my mother – but she really was German.)

Day 2

The Cincinnati Kid (1965)
By Adam Zanzie - Icebox Movies
Before Jewison came onboard, the end result was destined to be something completely different from what it is now. Peckinpah's original vision for The Cincinnati Kid was to shoot the film in black-and-white, and fill the story (in typical Peckinpah fashion) with visceral sequences of sex and violence. But Hollywood was not yet ready for Peckinpah's “fascists works of art” (as dubbed by Pauline Kael in her Straw Dogs review), and with Jewison replacing Peckinpah as director, Steve McQueen's next anti-heroic vehicle was about to become something more passive, less aggressive. Arguably, it ultimately became a better film.

Regarding The Getaway
By Steve Saragossi - The Screen Lounge
The Getaway is first and foremost an action thriller. That is what all concerned were endeavouring to produce and, on the basis of its box-office receipts and Steve McQueen’s return to the top of the superstar tree, they succeeded. But a closer examination of the text reveals subtleties not usually at work in such a genre-piece.

Day 1 - Essays:

5 for the Day: Steve McQueen
By Jason Bellamy - The House Next Door
McQueen's was a career that started too late — in 1958's The Blob, his first starring role on the big screen, the already-developing wrinkles in McQueen's forehead give away that he isn't the high schooler he's pretending to be — and that ended too soon. ... What follows here is a list of what I consider to be McQueen's five most essential performances.

The Getaway
By J.D. - Radiator Heaven
Steve McQueen brings his trademark cool and intensity to the role of Doc and is not afraid to play a relatively unlikable character. We don’t know what Doc was like before his prison stretch, only how he behaves once he gets out. McQueen plays him as someone who doesn’t suffer fools gladly. I find it interesting that two of his strongest performances came from back-to-back Peckinpah films: Junior Bonner and The Getaway. The former featured a very nuanced, introspective performance from McQueen, while this one is all on the surface as he plays an irredeemable criminal.

The Getaway
By Bryce Wilson – Things That Don’t Suck
The Getaway’s a strange movie to write about, a star at the height of his iconoclasm, a director in full possession of his incendiary talent, scripted by another badass filmmaker I’m quite fond of, coming from what is arguably the greatest novel from the greatest hardboiled novelist of all time. It’s a movie I wouldn’t hesitate to call a classic. And yet on some level I can’t help but find it unfulfilling.

Junior Bonner (1972)
By Kevin J. Olson - Decisions at Sundown
McQueen exudes cool throughout the film as Bonner (sunglasses and a cowboy hat have never looked so good on someone), a man who has spent his best years on the rodeo circuit, immersed in the ways of the Old West, but now that he has returned home he sees modernism and the counter culture of America in the 70's starting to creep into his home. He's a dying breed, and much like the way Faulkner wrote about Modernism penetrating the old South in "The Bear," so too does Peckinpah seem enamored with this theme of things never being the same.

Le Mans (1971)
By Vuk Radic - SeeItWith.Me
Steve McQueen's vision was simple: Create the best, most realistic movie about motorsports ever made. It was a story that began years before filming took place during the summer of 1970, and its aftermath impacted McQueen for the rest of his life. Le Mans was a huge project; 20,000 props, 26 high-performance racing cars with 52 drivers from seven countries, along with 350,000 French-speaking extras. And no finished script. There were few lines, even for a McQueen film, and no intelligible structure. "Cars," he told everyone. "We film the fucking cars." And from the very inception of the idea it was riddled with problems.

McQueen, Gleason, and a Couple of Guys Who Had It Coming
By Bill R. - The Kind of Face You Hate
There are a couple of things that happen during this fight that are a bit hard to swallow, but they gain a certain level of verisimilitude due to the clumsy brutality of everything else. It's strange to watch this moody little comedy, and then find yourself smack in the middle of a terrific, bone-crunching beatdown -- these guys are pounding the shit out of each other, and it makes them tired.

The McQueen Persona, Part 1: The Righteous Rebel (Bullitt & An Enemy of the People)
By Steven Santos – The Fine Cut
I never considered Steve McQueen the greatest actor, as much as I considered him a great presence. One has to look at today's "movie stars" to truly appreciate what McQueen brought to movies that were, for the most part, mostly memorable due to him. He seemed to have a mature, been around the block quality even in his early thirties, while many present-day actors are more pretty and boyish even when some of them are approaching forty. He may have been considered too cool, and, by turn, too unemotional by some, but he still represents to me more how men really are or perhaps should be. Maybe, these days, pop psychology has infected male characterizations so much that I prefer some of the mystery that McQueen's opaque performance style offers.

Non-Expressionism: The Gift of Steve McQueen
By Greg - Cinema Styles
I started going to the movies in the seventies and Steve McQueen was one of the first stars I got to know in current releases. When I saw his last film in the theatre, The Hunter, on opening weekend no less, so excited was I to see it, I felt I knew him well. I didn't. Even though I loved movies like The Blob, The Great Escape, Bullitt, Papillon and, yes, The Hunter, mediocre as it may be, I didn't fully understand Steve McQueen as an actor. I liked him and his movies but never felt he was doing the job I thought others were doing when it came to big screen acting. I certainly didn't think he was bad, I just never gave him much thought as an actor overall. But then, very recently in fact, I had a revelation.

The Sand Pebbles (1966) - Part 1
By Hokahey - Little Worlds
McQueen well deserved his nomination for his portrayal of Holman. He creates a simple soul who just wants to be left alone. In one scene straight from the wonderful novel by Richard McKenna, Holman actually talks to the ship’s engine he loves to work with. When he first arrives on the boat, he lovingly adjusts valves, wipes pipes, and declares. “Hello, engine. I’m Jake Holman.” This might be the type of language that works in a novel but should probably be left out of the film version, but McQueen puts touching believability into his delivery and it works.

Steve McQueen, an acting racer or a racing actor? Whatever ... He loved cars
By Vuk Radic - SeeItWith.Me
Steve McQueen really did have it all. He was supposedly smoking insane amounts of marijuana every day, wasn’t a stranger to mounds of cocaine, he was married three times and died at 50. Which takes on an ironical twist to another racing quote of his: “Racing is the most exciting thing there is. But unlike drugs, you get high with dignity.”

Steve McQueen and the Evolution of the Action Hero
By Clarence Ewing – GLI Press
McQueen’s heyday was mainly in the 1960s and '70s and he had all the tools to succeed in the era of Technicolor – the looks, the screen presence, and the persona. I don’t think I’m going out on a limb to declare that McQueen wasn’t the most spectacular thespian in the world, but neither were hundreds of other actors who came along before or after him. His screen presence was something that comes along a few times a decade, and his directors made full use of it.

Steve McQueen: King of the Close-Up (Video Essay)
By Jason Bellamy – The Cooler
Not quite 30 years removed from his death, McQueen tends to be remembered for his role in two of cinema’s most famous action sequences, in The Great Escape and Bullitt, and for his blazing blue eyes, his physical grace and his effortless swagger, which were the substance of several of his films. These were the ingredients that helped McQueen earn the honorary title “The King of Cool,” and rightfully so. But to come to the conclusion that McQueen’s success was simply the result of a handsome, athletic and naturally suave guy playing too-cool-for-school characters is to miss McQueen’s true cinematic gift: He was devastating in a close-up.

Day 1 - Photos:

Behind the Scenes With My Favorite Actors: Steve McQueen in Bullitt
By Jeremy Richey – Moon In The Gutter

Steve McQueen: 20 Never-Before-Seen Photos*
Photos by John Dominis - Life Magazine
(*Not technically a submission to the blog-a-thon, though LIFE was kind enough to email the link. Very cool!)

Steve McQueen's Women
By Vuk Radic - SeeItWith.Me

Steve McQueen Film Posters
By Vuk Radic - SeeItWith.Me

Steve McQueen's Cars
By Vuk Radic - SeeItWith.Me

Preamble:

The following isn’t an official contribution to the blog-a-thon, but it’s a wonderful place to start. Back in May 2009, Matt Zoller Seitz created the following video essay, which calls into question McQueen’s credentials as a leading man. If you’re a fan of McQueen, you might not agree with Seitz’s conclusion, but his arguments are almost impossible to refute. It's essential viewing.

Too Cool (Video Essay)
By Matt Zoller Seitz – L Magazine
This self-willed aura of confidence is the source of my own early admiration for McQueen. He was everything I wasn't — everything almost no one is; as much a cinematic demigod as Burt Lancaster, but humbler, more human scaled. Nevertheless, at some point second thoughts on McQueen took root in my mind and made it difficult to adore him uncritically, and made even his most acclaimed star turns feel unsatisfying. And at the risk of inviting a flood of angry email from dudes with subject headers along the lines of "Dear McQueen-hating pansy," I'll attempt to explain why.

Bullitt Points on Steve McQueen

I expressed most of my Steve McQueen thoughts in my two previous submissions to the Steve McQueen Blog-a-thon: the “5 for the Day” piece at The House Next Door and the video essay “Steve McQueen: King of the Close-Up.” But here are a few more ruminations and ramblings related to the King of Cool.

When The Great Escape Got Greater
The first Steve McQueen movie I ever saw was either The Great Escape or The Magnificent Seven. I saw both when I was about 10 or 11 and I loved them immediately. Although The Great Escape didn’t inspire me to dig a tunnel of my own, it opened up my mind to the possibility that “old movies” could be just as exciting as those made during my own lifetime (a novel concept at that age). Soon, I owned The Great Escape on VHS, and I spent my middle school, high school and even college years excitedly showing it to friends, many of whom hadn’t heard of the movie or McQueen. (It almost goes without saying that the movie was always a hit.) By the time I was 21, I must have seen The Great Escape two dozen times. Or so I thought.

It was around then that I got my first DVD player, and of course The Great Escape was among my initial DVDs. One afternoon I settled in to watch a movie I thought I knew by heart, only to find it thrillingly new. Until then, you see, I’d only seen The Great Escape in the standard pan-and-scan format of VHS. My DVD copy presented the film in its full (2.35:1) widescreen glory. What a difference it made! Now shots of Hilts speeding toward the Alps near the film’s conclusion were panoramically breathtaking. Now shots of the prisoners arriving at the camp in the film’s opening revealed more than a half-dozen trucks in a row instead of two or three. Most importantly, now, for the very first time, I knew the size of Hilts’ familiar cell in the cooler.

Stop reading. Look at the image that makes for the masthead here at The Cooler. That shot? I’ve only known that shot for a little over a decade. In pan-and-scan, we never saw Hilts’ entire cell in one shot. Instead, when Hilts tosses his baseball against the floor and walls of his cell, we’d get a shot of Hilts throwing the ball, then a cut to the ball hitting the wall, then a cut to Hilts catching the ball. Over and over again. Rinse and repeat. Consequentially, I always assumed that the cell was at least two times bigger than it actually is. The DVD-inspired renaissance of widescreen restored The Great Escape to its original glory. For me, there’s no better example of the ills of pan-and-scan than its perversion of Hilts in the cooler. Widescreen has never delighted me more.



Misspelled, With a Bullit
As I type this, I’m facing a poster for Bullitt, which is one of two Steve McQueen images among the five framed posters in my apartment (the other one shows McQueen as Virgil Hilts in The Great Escape). I bought the Bullitt poster at an outdoor sale when I was a student at Washington State University, and so I’ve had it for more than 12 years. But it was only about 10 years ago that I realized the poster’s flaw: Though the bold print atop the poster correctly touts “Steve McQueen as ‘Bullitt,’” the blurb underneath reads thusly: “Not many freaky cops like BULLIT around. You look at the Italian shoes and the turtleneck and you have to wonder. You listen to the official beefs about ‘personal misconduct,’ ‘disruptive influence,’ you figure he’s got to be up for trade. But when some rare Chicago blood starts spilling in San Francisco, they give BULLIT the mop. They weren’t exactly doing him a favor. But they’ve done a great big one for you.” OK, first of all: How cool is that blurb?! But, back to the point, how on earth did someone manage to drop a ‘T’ in Bullitt without anyone noticing? Oops.



Portrait of a Kung Fu Wannabe
In preparation for the blog-a-thon, I dusted off my copy of Marshall Terrill’s 1993 biography, Steve McQueen: Portrait of an American Rebel, which until recently had been boxed up with some other books I hadn’t touched since college. It’s a good book – personal and revelatory without seeming sensationalistic – and the process of rereading it reintroduced me to bits of trivia that I had forgotten. Perhaps my favorite forgotten factoid was this tidbit: McQueen was a pallbearer at Bruce Lee’s funeral. Surprised? So was I. The two (eventual) stars became connected when McQueen met Nikita Knatz, one of Lee’s training partners, on the set of The Thomas Crown Affair and asked (er, nagged) to get some martial arts training of his own. Soon, McQueen and Lee became companions. “Both men had what the other wanted,” James Coburn says in Terrill’s book. “It was two giant egos vying for something: stardom for Lee and street-fighting technique for McQueen.” When Lee got his first movie deal, he called himself the “Oriental Steve McQueen.” Lee then bragged to McQueen that he’d have a more worldwide audience. In response, McQueen sent an 8x10 glossy to Lee signed, “To Bruce, my favorite fan.” The two weren’t friendly rivals so much as rivals pretending to be friends. And although McQueen’s influence on Lee is difficult to pinpoint, Lee’s influence on McQueen is easy to spot. If you’ve ever wondered why Doc McCoy finishes off a butt-kicking in The Getaway with a rather goofy karate chop, now you know.



He Coulda Been a Defectah
There are several films that McQueen turned down because of a lack of interest or problematic preproduction, among them Dirty Harry, The French Connection, First Blood and even Close Encounters of the Third Kind. The one that’s most intriguing, though, is Apocalypse Now, given how easily it could have been a reality. McQueen was first offered the role of Willard, and then, after turning that down, the role of Kurtz. But McQueen intentionally priced himself out of the running, not wanting to spend so much time shooting in a foreign country, having already had a healthy dose of that for The Sand Pebbles. Francis Ford Coppola clearly wanted McQueen, and the project started roughly on time (though it famously didn’t finish that way). So had McQueen been more interested, he’d have been in that picture. The mind boggles trying to imagine if McQueen would have elevated the film’s twisted greatness, morphed it or neutralized it. McQueen as Kurtz is a strange but potentially interesting twist. It’s hard to picture, but not impossible. On the other hand, one doesn’t have to try very hard to imagine McQueen in The Bodyguard, which was originally conceived for him and Diana Ross.



The Remake I’d Endorse
There are only two McQueen films that I consider sacred and untouchable as far as remakes are concerned: The Great Escape and The Magnificent Seven. Those films have a distinctive magic that I don’t think can be adequately duplicated or reimagined (so let's not try, Hollywood, OK?). On the other hand, the remake I would love to see would be Bullitt by Michael Mann. Mann certainly has the resume for it. He seems to be evoking Bullitt in Heat, both in terms of the way Vincent Hanna (Al Pacino), like Frank Bullitt, is losing himself to the darkness of his work and in regard to the film’s climactic shootout in and around airport runways. Also, in Miami Vice, Mann created a film that niftily blends high-caliber action with a sort of romantic-cool mood that takes precedence over a muddled and somewhat inconsequential plot. Sounds like Bullitt. I’m not sure who would star in the picture. Daniel Craig might have been perfect, but now he’s Bond. Matt Damon could have worked, but now he’s Bourne. So maybe one of the Miami Vice stars: Colin Farrell or Jamie Foxx. Or maybe a redefining role for Michael Fassbender, Ryan Gosling or Jeremy Renner. Damn. Heath Ledger might have worked, too.

Steve McQueen: King of the Close-Up

[I’m pleased to debut The Cooler’s first video essay as my contribution to the Steve McQueen Blog-a-thon. As usual, the video plays best if you let it completely buffer before watching. Click here to see it on Vimeo's site in a slightly larger, but not too large, size. A transcript of the narration is below.]

In his first starring role, on TV’s Wanted: Dead or Alive in 1958, and in his last starring role, in 1980’s The Hunter, Steve McQueen played bounty hunters. In between, McQueen played a host of characters who were on the run or behind bars – guys who had been to prison or seemed to be heading there. He played lawmen, too, and leaders, thrill-seekers and risk-takers. He played men of action – guys who always seemed to be cocked and ready. Not muscle men so much as tough guys. Not brave men, because they often seemed immune to fear, but determined ones. With rare exception, McQueen’s characters were strong, silent types, either intentionally or inevitably. Quiet strength was McQueen’s default setting.

Not quite 30 years removed from his death, McQueen tends to be remembered for his role in two of cinema’s most famous action sequences, in The Great Escape and Bullitt, and for his blazing blue eyes, his physical grace and his effortless swagger, which were the substance of several his films. These were the ingredients that helped McQueen earn the honorary title of “The King of Cool,” and rightfully so. But to come to the conclusion that McQueen’s success was simply the result of a handsome, athletic and naturally suave guy playing too-cool-for-school characters is to miss McQueen’s true cinematic gift: He was devastating in a close-up.

Of course, that wasn’t the extent of McQueen’s talent. McQueen was terrific behind the wheel of anything with four tires and he was even better on the seat of a motorcycle. He didn’t do all of his own stunts, of course, but his vehicular abilities allowed directors to get some magical shots that stuntmen couldn’t provide – shots that made action intimate. McQueen was also good on a horse – a skill that wouldn’t be worth much today – and he was terrific with props of all shapes and sizes. Guns. Food. Whatever. Even the engine of a ship. Give McQueen something to do and he was quietly captivating.

In other situations, McQueen seemed painfully out of his element. Thomas Crown Affair screenwriter Alan Trustman noted in Marshall Terrill’s 1993 biography Steve McQueen: Portrait of an American Rebel that when McQueen was uncomfortable “you could squirm watching him.” This is undoubtedly true. Many of McQueen’s particularly squirm-worthy moments came when the actor attempted to wear his heart on his sleeve. But that’s oversimplifying things. Given that McQueen was most comfortable when driving, manipulating a prop, or acting from the shoulders up, it should come as no surprise that he seemed least comfortable when forced to act with his entire body and with nothing in his hands. An apt example would be this scene from Nevada Smith, which Matt Zoller Seitz used to underscore McQueen’s limitations in his cogent 2009 video essay “Too Cool.” As McQueen squats down and looks at his character’s home in flames, he comes off less like a man distraught over the murder of his parents than like an actor who feels naked from the neck down and at a loss for what to do with his hands. It might be the most cringe-inducing moment in McQueen’s career. I mean, other than this one.

McQueen’s biggest fault as an actor wasn’t so much that he couldn’t play emotion but that he couldn’t play his emotions to the back row. McQueen needed the camera to get close enough that he could emote with his face, subtly but intensely, charismatically, powerfully. Some filmmakers had no trouble identifying the money shot and put McQueen’s face to good use, particularly Norman Jewison, who directed McQueen in The Cincinnati Kid, the poker flick full of tight close-ups, and The Thomas Crown Affair, in which McQueen and Faye Dunaway turned a game of chess into steamy foreplay. Other directors used McQueen’s best angle as a tease, intentionally thwarting our ability to look directly into his eyes in order to enhance the emotional unease of the characters. A good example is this scene from Sam Peckinpah’s mostly macho The Getaway, in which McQueen’s Doc McCoy is intimidated by intimacy after years of imprisonment. Also of note is this scene from Baby, the Rain Must Fall, in which McQueen’s Henry Thomas, also recently out of the big house, and now trying to figure out how to support his wife and child, realizes his dreams of being a country music star are just that: dreams.

To call McQueen a limited actor is accurate, but to suggest that his silence is evidence of emptiness is to imply that emotions must be verbally articulated to be deep. Beyond Hollywood’s frustrating habit of bestowing awards to those who act most instead of best, even hardcore cinephiles fall into the trap of praising acting in situations when the screenwriting deserves the lion’s share of acclaim, confusing amazing roles with amazing performances. This is unavoidable, of course. At some point the two cannot be separated. And just like great talkers need great dialogue, great physical actors, like McQueen, need a director with enough sense to point a camera where the action is. Still, one of the reasons that McQueen is thought of as a purely physical actor is because so few screenwriters gave him anything interesting to say. The most quotable line of McQueen’s career might be this one from The Magnificent Seven: “We deal in lead, friend.” Trouble is, McQueen’s would-be catchphrase is merely the punctuation on a conversation between Yul Brynner and Eli Wallach. It’s the first of only two lines for McQueen in a 10-minute span. Given the film’s wealth of heroes, it’s all to easy to come away remembering the line but not the cowboy who said it. “We deal in lead, friend” is a cool line, sure. But what it isn’t as this: “Yippie-ki-yay, motherfucker” – an instant classic.

And that leads us here. Perhaps the most remarkable thing about McQueen is that he’s entirely inimitable – not in the general, “Oh, there’ll never be another one like him” kind of way, but in the sense that he’s truly impossible to impersonate. Given the right props, sure, you could mimic his actions, but other than that you couldn’t “do McQueen,” the way someone could do Jimmy Stewart, Marlon Brando or Humphrey Bogart. McQueen didn’t have a distinctive voice or an unforgettable line. Some actors had both. For this, McQueen deserves a share of the blame. Woefully uneducated, McQueen found dialogue a physical challenge and cut it wherever he could. On the set of The Towering Inferno, he regularly complained that the dialogue was “shit,” but when the screenwriter pressed him for a specific example McQueen confessed that there was nothing wrong with the dialogue itself, he just couldn’t say it. It was because of this, as much as anything, that on the set of The Getaway, McQueen would read the script and say, “Too many words, too many words. I’ll give you a close-up that’ll say a thousand words.”

You have to hand it to McQueen: his arithmetic was usually correct. But sometimes McQueen took silence to the extreme. In Le Mans, the racing film that was the actor’s passion project, McQueen doesn’t utter anything resembling traditional dialogue for more than 37 minutes. Upon the film’s release, Jay Cocks of Time Magazine wrote that McQueen didn’t play a part, he just posed for it. He was right. Then again, there were also instances when McQueen’s terse approach wound up making an otherwise forgettable line of dialogue surprisingly potent. One such instance comes late in The Towering Inferno, when McQueen’s fire chief learns that the only hope for extinguishing the blaze is for him to be airlifted to the top of the skyscraper to blow up some rooftop water tanks with plastic explosives. In that scene, and so many others, McQueen’s magic was the expansiveness of his minimalism. Few actors ever conveyed so much without saying anything at all. McQueen’s physical acting was so efficient, in fact, that in the rare case one of his characters verbally articulated his thoughts, the dialogue usually seemed unnecessarily redundant.

In a way, it’s silly to criticize McQueen for so often playing to his strengths, but there’s at least one film that suggests he didn’t have to be quite so narrow, 1962’s often overlooked The War Lover, in which McQueen plays a womanizing hotshot pilot in World War II. In so many ways, it’s still the typical McQueen role: cocky, intense and tough. But in The Water Lover, McQueen is a little more emotionally vulnerable than normal, even when his character is on the attack. This is the film to recommend to anyone who insists that McQueen could only pose. And yet it’s impossible to overlook the way McQueen dazzles most in a close-up, his blue eyes blazing, even in black-and-white, flashing that visceral coiled intensity that’s so rarely duplicated.

Most actors who try to be as super-cool as McQueen come off like frauds. Every now and then, though, someone recaptures the silent swagger that was the essence of McQueen. Jeremy Renner’s Oscar-nominated portrayal in The Hurt Locker is evidence that McQueen’s brand of acting can be as potent as ever. Two of the film’s most powerful scenes are ones in which Renner doesn’t say a word. But just because McQueen’s acting style has endured doesn’t mean that it would have aged well with him as his star faded and he moved on to smaller supporting roles. Alas, we we’ll never know. McQueen was a top-of-the-marquee star until he died, all too soon, in 1980 at the age of 50 from complications due to cancer.

In a career just over two decades long, McQueen produced a collection of exhilarating films and performances, many of which are still cherished three decades after his death. And though it’s true that the most memorable thing that a McQueen character ever did was something McQueen didn’t do himself – stuntman Bud Ekin’s famous motorcycle jump in The Great Escape – it’s also true that McQueen thoroughly dominated the screen in a way that few other actors have before or since. He was “The King of Cool,” the king of the close-up, and his honorary reign continues.

Human Bondage: Casino Royale

[Apropos of nothing, except maybe that Greg at Cinema Styles mentioned James Bond earlier this week, The Cooler offers the following review, written upon the film’s release in the author’s pre-blog era.]

Casino Royale is the 21st James Bond movie, starring the sixth James Bond: the blond-haired, blue-eyed Daniel Craig. Whether it’s the best Bond movie depends entirely on what you expect from these films. Packed with exhaustive action sequences, yet free of Q’s trademark gadgetry (and free of Q, for that matter), Casino Royale has infused the Bond series with grit and brute force while removing some of the lighthearted shtick in an effort to modernize it for these adrenaline-addicted times.

Trouble is, in ensuring that Bond is tough enough to stand shoulder to shoulder with another popular J.B., 24’s Jack Bauer, he loses a little of his Bondness, at least for those who swear by the Sean Connery years best remembered for the character’s swagger and finesse (Goldfinger, perhaps the most celebrated Bond film, includes an extensive golf sequence, for crying out loud). But since traditional Bond enthusiasts probably will never get over the Connery era, there’s a strong argument to be made for a live-or-let-die effort to capture a new audience before the whole series gets lost in an Octopussy’s garden of tired retreads.

Yet the crucial question remains: without the gadgets, without the babes with sexually suggestive names and without dark hair and dark eyes, can Bond still be Bond? The answer provided by Casino Royale is yes. I think. Because even without the aforementioned trademarks, we still have the tailored suits, and we still have the babes (Eva Green and Caterina Murino) and in Craig we have something far more reminiscent of Connery’s Bond than dark hair and dark eyes: effortless cool.

Craig is a brilliant Bond, his blue eyes piercing the night, his chiseled frame packing a wallop; it’s enough to make this Steve McQueen fan wish that Craig had been tagged for a Bullitt remake. Craig’s initial selection drew controversy, but there’s no question that producers landed the proper man for the job. Pierce Brosnan, the previous Bond, looked and talked the part all too well. He was as plastic as a Ken doll. Craig plays the role like someone with a chip on his shoulder, a “fuck you” to his gait. And for the first time since…since…well, maybe just for the first time, Bond feels kind of like a guy with real human emotions.

Never fear, Bond fanatics, there’s still plenty of disbelief to suspend: punishing fistfights that could have ended in seconds if one of the men used his gun; machinegun-riddled sequences in which Bond dances through the bullets; double-crosses ad nauseam; and a stylish though senseless brawl on a crane that demonstrates 007 doesn’t understand what it means to have someone cornered.

But who cares. The locales are exotic, the chemistry between Craig and Green is steamy and the attitude is pissed off. The pacing is irregular (at 144 minutes it’s overlong and still rushes the final act almost beyond comprehension) but the mood is right. And so finally there’s reason to be optimistic about the Bond series’ future – not because we can’t imagine it getting worse, but because Casino Royale makes Bond worth watching again.

The Eyes of March (2010)

This is my second Eyes of March post. Below you'll find 11 unedited eye-shots from 11 different films. Some you'll recognize immediately. Others are harder. How many can you name? Place your answers in the comments section. I'll come along with the correct answers in a day or so.

Numbers correspond to the image below them.

(1)


(2)


(3)


(4)


(5)


(6)


(7)


(8)


(9)


(10)


(11)
.

Until the Skinny Guy Sings: Winning Time

The last time I watched a full NBA game on TV was June 19, 2000. That was also the last time I watched half of an NBA game – maybe even the last time I watched a full quarter. On that night, the Los Angeles Lakers closed out the Indiana Pacers, 116-111, in the sixth game of NBA Finals. The win gave the Lakers their first league title since 1988, while the loss effectively ended the Pacers’ championship hopes in the Reggie Miller era. Miller, the charismatic sharpshooter and team captain, would play five more seasons before retiring, but he and the Pacers only once made it past the first round of the playoffs; over the previous six seasons, the Pacers had gone to the Eastern Conference finals four times. In Miller’s prime, the Pacers were always on the doorstep of an NBA Championship, but they never got through the door.

I mention all of this on my way to reviewing Winning Time: Reggie Miller vs. the New York Knicks, the latest in ESPN Films’ “30 for 30” series, in the spirit of full disclosure. I am no longer an NBA fan. I couldn’t name a single starting five or maybe even five players on a single team. I hear the Lakers are still great in the West and the Cleveland Cavaliers are favorites in the East, but I haven’t seen it with my own eyes. Today the NBA is as foreign to me as Jupiter. But back when I did follow the NBA – and I followed it passionately, though not quite devoutly – I was a monogamous Indiana Pacers fan, and I was a Pacers fan because I was a Reggie Miller fan. All of that said, perhaps you should be skeptical when I tell you that the best word to describe Winning Time is “joyous.” I am, of course, inclined to enjoy any film that flatters Miller and highlights the suffering of the Knicks. But I don’t think that’s the extent of this documentary’s charms. Far from it. Winning Time isn’t so much about glorifying Miller but about celebrating those moments when sports provide great theater.

Director Dan Klores sets this mood from the outset. Before we see a single frame of basketball footage, as the opening titles appear in white text over a black background, we hear, of all things, opera. From there, Klores cuts to a montage of some of his narrative’s major players – Patrick Ewing, Pat Riley, John Starks and, of course, Miller – that culminates in Starks’ gentle head butt and Miller’s resulting melodramatic sideways stagger, performed in this case to the sound of Luciano Pavarotti belting out “Nessun Dorma.” Starks’ famous forehead bump occurred in the first round of the 1993 playoffs, and, despite all the media hype it inspired, that act managed to be a mere overture for what was to come. Winning Time’s core drama is constructed from the still-memorable Pacers-Knicks postseason match-ups in the 1994 Eastern Conference finals and the 1995 semifinals – “blood battles” that saw Knicks superfan Spike Lee become part of the action, that saw Miller score 25 fourth-quarter points for a come-from-behind win, that saw the Knicks choke, that saw Miller gag, that saw Starks be both a hero and a goat, that saw Miller score 6 points in less than 6 seconds and that enjoyed trashtalk so sensational that the New York tabloids struggled to embellish it.

This isn’t all that Winning Time covers. The film reverse pivots to remind us how Ewing came to the Knicks with great expectations and how Miller’s underdog mentality and need to break out on a big stage was shaped by a childhood spent in the figurative and literal shadow of his sister Cheryl, one of the most dominant female basketball players of all time. But Klores’ documentary is less about obsessing over detail than about basking in the power of Miller’s show-stopping arias – magnificent athletic performances that were enhanced by Miller’s all-eyes-on-me love of the spotlight. How appropriate it is that Miller’s top individual rival wasn’t Ewing or even Starks so much as it was Lee, the man of Hollywood, who was often in a jersey and was sometimes on the court but who was never officially “in” the game – at least not until Miller made him part of it, staring down Lee so frequently that you halfway expected the loquacious filmmaker to get whistled for 3 seconds in the key. At one point in Winning Time, Lee shows off a wall covered in framed newspapers with headlines blaming him for inciting Miller, and in that moment we remember that the Miller-Lee rivalry wasn’t only a sideshow but was sometimes the main act. Even no-nonsense sports fans had to concede that the frequent TV cutaways to Lee, chirping from his courtside seat, were as intrinsic to the action as following the ball. That is, if you believe Lee helped to motivate Miller. Winning Time includes a clip from a 1994 on-court interview in which Lee tries to shed responsibility for Miller’s 25-point outburst, but though Lee says his role was “blown out of proportion,” his tone is that of a man who knows he lost an arm by dangling meat in front of a lion. He’s hardly convincing.

Lee also isn’t so convincing in some of the film’s recent footage in which he claims he never joined the chorus at Madison Square Garden that taunted Miller with “Cheryl” chants. But that’s part of the fun of Winning Time. Even in their talking-head interviews (filmed separately), Miller and Lee are still playfully at odds, spinning their own legends and doing everything short of conducting the orchestra. These are men who understand drama. It’s a tribute to Klores that most of the key players return to relive these events. Even Starks is there, wearing a smile that suggests he’s at peace with the past. Ewing is interviewed, too, and he’s as polite as ever, though the bags under his eyes suggest the weight of never having won a championship. Talking-head interviews are often a bore in documentaries, but in Winning Time they become almost musical, as in the sequence when a handful of interviewees praise Miller’s “presence of mind” on his famous steal-and-3 play in 1995. Winning Time is expertly edited from start to finish, lingering in just the right places (Miller’s 6 points in 6 sections and Ewing’s Game 7 miss) and never overstaying its welcome, with the possible exception of giving us a little too much Cheryl Miller near the end. The film’s only significant fault is its title, spun out of something Ahmad Rashad says about clutch players, which is curiously applied to video of Miller sinking two pressure free throws just minutes after we watch Miller choke at the charity stripe in a similar situation. But this is a minor error.

Otherwise the documentary is close to flawless, thriving on the way that Miller, with his big ears and skinny frame – “Mr. Potato Head on a stick,” he gets called in the film – didn’t seem to fit in the era of physical basketball in which he was a star (though not a superstar). Add Miller’s charisma to the mix, and he’s a guy that even non-sports fans will find fun to watch – a guy who seems to take sports too seriously and not seriously at all. Miller was an on-court assassin, a showman and a clown. On that note, just as opera is the perfect way to open Winning Time, Klores makes another inspired musical selection to send us to the closing credits. As Paul Simon plays “Loves Me Like a Rock,” Klores provides footage of Miller embracing Starks and then Lee, brief scenes that are surprisingly touching and altogether important reminders of the ultimate frivolity of these rivalries. On the court, these men were foes. When it came to entertaining us with great drama, they were partners.

Winning Time premieres tonight on ESPN at 9 pm ET, and will rerun frequently thereafter. The Cooler will be reviewing each film in the “30 for 30” series upon its release. The next "30 for 30" picture won't be released until April 3.

82nd Academy Awards Live Blog

(All times Eastern | Remember to refresh often)

12:02: That's all, folks. I'm happy The Hurt Locker took the prize. Thanks to everyone who stopped by and left comments or just followed along. This blogger has to be up in five hours, so I'm off to bed. But keep leaving your thoughts in the comments section.

12:00: Kathryn Bigelow is losing her mind on stage right now.

11:59: Wait, are there two Mark Boals on stage?

11:58: Holy fuck! Tom Hanks walks on stage, says "The Hurt Locker" and it's over. Just like that.

11:58: And she made it through her acceptance speech without some obligatory thank you to James Cameron! Awesome!

11:57: The best tribute to Bigelow isn't the award. It's that Mark Boal had tears running down his face after her win and not his own. That says something.

11:55: Kathryn Bigelow wins Best Director and gets felt up by Barbara Streisand.

11:54: And we're back!

11:53: Best Director time ... and my TV just cut out!

11:52: The performance that got Sandra Bullock an Oscar wasn't all that special. But the acceptance speech was. For a moment, I just forgot I had to endure Oprah tonight.

11:49: "Did I really earn this or did I just wear you all down?" Wow. That felt painfully honest.

11:49: And heeeeeeeeeeeere's Sandy.

11:47: What was Sean Penn just babbling about?

11:45: In “our” movie Precious. Right, Oprah. You had nothing to do with that film until it was over. Barf.

11:44: Fucking Oprah.

11:40: OK. Fantasy over. Time for Sandypalooza.

11:40: Carey Mulligan rocks. I’m going to close my eyes for 2 seconds and pretend she’s about to win.

11:38: Wait, so if they’re going to do the actor-to-actor tributes for the ladies, who is going down memory lane about Gabourey Sidibe?

11:37: I think Jeff Bridges got possessed by The Dude halfway through his acceptance speech, but his comments about his parents were nice, man.

11:33: Jeff Bridges, it’s your moment. Enjoy it.

11:31: Those actor-to-actor tributes had their rough spots, but they ripped tonight’s broadcast out of its boring formula. For the first time tonight, I’m happy to be watching. And Kate Winslet is on stage. That doesn't suck.

11:29: Tim Robbins comes up with an (obviously fictional) anecdote that's 10 times funnier than anything the hosts came up with tonight in his tribute to Morgan Freeman. Good stuff.

11:26: Seeing Jeff Bridges’ eyes getting just a little misty during Michelle Pfeiffer’s tribute was the highlight of the night so far.

11:20: OK, so in many ways this Academy Awards is just like any other, but I have the distinct feeling that everyone thinks tonight's Oscar night is especially sucky. So what’s the reason? Poor hosts? A reflection of the films? A reflection of the fact that we all feel we’ve known the winners for the past two months? A lack of magic moments? Something else? All of the above?

11:17: Crap. I just missed which film won Best Foreign Film. I suck. I blame the fact that the grocery store didn’t have double chocolate milanos. I’m off my game. Sorry. I just know it wasn't The White Ribbon, which I still plan to review at some point.

11:15: Best Foreign Film time. Quentin Tarantino just said "France" like “Fronce” – you know, Alex Trebek style. You’d almost think he was cultured, until you remember that he has the Pussy Wagon parked at his house.

11:14: It pains me that Steve Martin is so not funny tonight.

11:10: Keanu Reeves announces the Best Picture montage for The Hurt Locker. If you could go back to about 1992, wouldn’t you bet that Reeves, and not John Cusack, would someday star in a movie called Hot Tub Time Machine? What happened?

11:07: Best Editing goes to The Hurt Locker. The guy seems to be doing his impersonation of Skippy from Family Ties.

11:05: When Tyler Perry said his name will probably never be mentioned again at the Oscars, did he think the joke was on the Academy?

11:01: Best Documentary goes to one of the two nominees I've seen, The Cove (the other being Food, Inc). I always intended to review that movie and never got around to it. There are some really exhilarating cinematic moments in there, which is pretty impressive considering that many were shot on hidden cameras.

10:55: Avatar wins Best Special Effects. This seems as good a time as any to make this observation: One line of reasoning says that Avatar will win Best Picture tonight because it’ll further validate the 3D craze that’s pumping money into a supposedly struggling movie industry. (See: Alice in Wonderland’s $210 million opening weekend.) That makes sense (and cents). But there’s nothing good about James Cameron winning Best Director, right? Unless the Academy is trying to validate blowhards, I mean.

10:53: The winner for Best Score just stole a story out of Steven Spielberg's biography for his acceptance speech.

10:51: I’m not the only one who used the interpretive dance portion to go to the bathroom, right?

10:47: Seriously, Jenny hasn't been on the block this much since 2002. What's with all the J-Lo love tonight? Halle Berry (you know, the Oscar winner) needs a new agent.

10:45: OK. I really hate it when a film’s success is held against it. But, honestly, when’s the last time you’ve thought about Slumdog Millionaire?

10:41: Oscar learns from last year’s mistake and only shows us the performer, James Taylor, to open and close the In Memoriam portion. Of course, that does nothing for Patrick Swayze fans, who had to squint to see his tribute.

10:40: Michael Jackson? Come on!

10:37: How can I ogle Demi Moore when she’s brought on to announce the In Memoriam section? Not cool.

10:35: Sandra Bullock goes through the Best Cinematography nominees like she’s driving the bus on Speed. Avatar wins, of course. Another guy in a tux thanks James Cameron.

10:29: Elizabeth Banks does the “Let’s get this over with as quickly as possible” recognition of the technical awards banquet. This banquet is always hosted by a pretty, young actress, probably because it’s a sausage fest. Next year I think they should hire Zac Efron just to show the nerds who’s boss.

10:28: Some other guy wins Best Sound Mixing for The Hurt Locker. And 95 percent of viewers still don’t understand the difference between the last two categories.

10:25: A guy who looks like a combination of Karl in Die Hard and Scotty in Boogie Nights wins Best Sound Editing for The Hurt Locker. Good for him.

10:23: So a year later the Oscars are still trying to appease fans of The Dark Knight with a making-of featurette on sound editing and mixing. Curious.

10:20: Honestly, I promise you that every audience gasped more frequently during Precious than during Silence of the Lambs. So I guess that means it's horror, according to this montage.

10:19: Thanks to the horror movie montage for inadvertently plugging the Steve McQueen Blog-a-thon with shots from The Blob.

10:18: OK. The Paranormal Activity riff was pretty funny. Maybe Martin and Baldwin should have prerecorded their entire hosting gig.

10:12: Thousands of people add Precious to their Netflix queues after its Best Picture montage somehow manages to include every uplifting moment in the film. Suckers.

10:11: Wow. The winner of Best Costume Design is so bored of winning Oscars that she’s practically ready to drop off hers at Goodwill tonight. I like the idea of not taking these awards too seriously, but that was almost offensively dismissive, wasn't it?

10:06: Best Art Direction time. I like this category. Avatar wins. Somewhere Jim Emerson is weeping. But I gotta say: Pandora in 3D was spectacular.

10:01: I’m glad that black actors and actresses are finally getting Oscar recognition; deservingly so. But Hollywood underlines its whiteness each year when the Oscar broadcast inevitably goes hunting for dark skinned faces and only finds a few. It’s like a Republican National Convention in there.

9:59: As I said in my review, Mo’Nique delivered a performance to remember in the film I’d love to forget. Very deserving win.

9:56: Best Supporting Actress time. Ro’bin Will’iams comes on to read the names of the nominees, including heavily favored Mo’Nique.

9:52: Queen Latifah is charming and all, but she’s also a sign of the many decades that went by without any decent roles for black women. She gets treated like she’s the female Sidney Poitier or something. It’s embarrassing.

9:50: Best Adapted Screenplay time. And Precious wins. Good lord. I’m so upset. I feel like I’m obese and illiterate and my dad raped me and now I’ve just found out I have AIDS. How should I channel this disappointment? Oh! I remember! “Write! Write!”

9:46: Time for a mini-rant: Look, the whole celebrity worship thing is totally out of whack in this country. But the Coens do their “we don’t give a damn” shtick to an equally immature degree, if you ask me. Face it, guys. You're in the game. Play it.

9:44: Just saw a clip from A Serious Man. Am I correct that only Ethan Coen has bothered to show up tonight? Does Joel have a good excuse? Or did I just miss him?

9:41: After some goofy fun with Ben Stiller dressed as one of the Na’vi, the crew from Star Trek wins Best Makeup. Exactly how much makeup was in that movie, other than Spock’s ears?

9:37: The acceptance speech for Best Live Short goes to two guys who simultaneously win the award for Most Uncomfortable on Stage.

9:35: So a possibly poignant acceptance speech for Documentary Short gets interrupted by a woman who scolds the man for talking while overlooking her own poor etiquette. She acts like a party crasher but isn't, I guess. That was unfortunate.

9:34: Best Documentary Short goes to Music by Prudence. And what the fuck is going on …?

9:30: Best Animated Short time. I’ve seen exactly none of these, except an excerpt from Logorama, which wins as predicted. Nice gimmick, I guess.

9:25: I hate to go here, but was anyone else thinking about Macaulay Culkin’s childhood friendship with Michael Jackson as he was driving the point home about how John Hughes respected him?

9:23: I think Dr. Drew just saw all those John Hughes alums on stage and got an idea for a new reality show.

9:20: I can’t decide if that montage of John Hughes movies makes me grateful I’ll never have to be a teenager again or suicidal that I’m now a soulless adult.

9:17: Molly Ringwald takes the stage. Must be time to pay tribute to her dead career. Oops. Wrong again. It’s time for a John Hughes tribute.

9:16: And Jason Reitman wins Best Original Screenplay. Oops. Nope. That’s Mark Boal. This is a big win for everyone hoping that Avatar won’t win Best Picture tonight.

9:15: Could Inglourious Basterds get some love here? Pretty please.

9:13: Tina Fey and Robert Downey, Jr., provide the first genuine laughs of the night before reading the nominees for Best Original Screenplay. J-Lo covers her mouth laughing … but I think that’s her continued amazement that she’s sitting so close to the stage.

9:11: The Academy Awards … providing courtesy laughs from A-listers!

9:09: By the way: One of the Best Original Song winners said he loves his wife “more than rainbows.” No word on if she loves him more than unicorns. But I sure hope so.

9:05: “There are a lot of secrets in District 9.” One of them is that after a promising start, the film is reduced to a mindless action flick.

9:04: You knew Crazy Heart would bring home a Best Song statuette. And it does. Great music. Good film.

9:02: In the montage for the Best Song category, I lose 10 more seconds of my life to Nine. Damn.

9:00: Miley Cyrus insists that both she and Amanda Seyfried are nervous, but only Hannah Montanta is stumbling over herself.

8:58: Best Animated Feature Film goes to Up. Doug the dog rules! And Wes Anderson fans everywhere are smashing their monogrammed luggage.

8:52: So as they went to commercial, I think I caught a shot of Demi Moore sitting next to an obvious seat-filler. It looked like a new trailer for the cougar version of She’s Out of My League.

8:50: Classy acceptance speech for Waltz. I am content. Let the shit break loose.

8:49: Christoph wins! “Uber-bingo!” Yes!

8:48: OK, that Hans Landa montage makes me want to turn off the Academy Awards and watch Inglourious Basterds right now. But …

8:47: Best Supporting Actor time. It should be Christoph Waltz. It will be Christoph Waltz. If it isn’t Christoph Waltz I’m quitting the live blog. This is the only award tonight to which I’m emotionally attached.

8:44: Wow. I never thought I’d say this: Bring back Whoopi Goldberg. That was a rough opening.

8:40: Sam Worthington is not laughing. Sadly, I’m not either.

8:38: OK. So basically the producers of the Academy Awards said, “You know how the banter between awards presenters is always forced and lame?” Let’s play that up by having two hosts! Genius!

8:35: Wow. I saw that first joke coming from 3,000 miles away. Not a promising start.

8:34: Steve Martin and Alec Baldwin, ladies and gents. I’m excited about the first part.

8:31: And it’s Neil Patrick Harris. Cue up a musical number.

8:30: Here we go!

8:27: Bye, Kathy. I’ll miss you. Next stop ... the Academy Awards.

8:22: Can Kathy Ireland ask questions all night? She’s really entertaining.

8:16: Sarah Jessica Parker is in her Queen Amidala gown with a Matthew Broderick handbag. Huh? What? That’s actually Matthew Broderick? Oh.

8:14: Jennifer Lopez says Precious was a tough movie to watch “at times.” If by “at times” she meant from the opening credits to the closing credits, she nailed it.

8:12: There’s Morgan Freeman. If he waves to the crowd tonight will people think he’s playing Nelson Mandela again? Oscar! Oscar!

8:10: At what point does it become unacceptable to find Helen Mirren sexy? She’s amazing. And Vincent Price looks good, too. Oh, wait. That’s Christopher Plummer. My bad.

8:09: This just in: Kathy Ireland is going to replace Michael Phelps as the next spokesperson for Rosetta Stone. It’s how she learned English, apparently.

8:08: Winner for Best Over-Enunciation … Kathy Ireland, ladies and gentlemen.

8:04: Kathy Ireland “can’t wait” for Prince of Persia. Well, there’s one person.

8:02: Somewhere Pedro Almodovar is pissed that Penelope Cruz isn’t showing gratuitous cleavage tonight. (OK, so he’s not the only one.)

7:53: Ryan Seacrest figures that Crazy Heart was in Jeff Bridges’ “comfort zone” because he’s a musician. That makes sense. And then there’s the fact that Bridges is an actor. That might have helped.

7:50: My favorite red carpet moment so far was when Ryan Seacrest asked Sigourney Weaver about her initial thoughts reading the Avatar screenplay. Weaver said they were, “Wow!” and “Unreal!” I presume her next thought was, “I can’t believe my career has gotten to the point that I’m considering playing a character with such pitiful dialogue.”

7:48: By the way, if you’ve been taking a drink each time Sandra Bullock has been referred to as “Sandy” tonight, you are absolutely wasted. I wonder if she’s seated near Marty Scorsese and Bob Redford?

7:45: Quick takes on what I’ve seen from the red carpet so far: Faith Hill is dressed like she’s working a brothel in a Western movie; Sarah Jessica Parker appears to be wearing a dress designed by Queen Amidala; Amanda Seyfried looks fantastic; George Clooney amazingly doesn’t look totally perfect (what’s with the hair?).

7:00: Welcome to the live blog of the 82nd Academy Awards. Allison’s Red Carpet Live Blog is still going strong, so open up another browser window and multitask, people. I'll be back later.

Red Carpet Live Blog (2010)

This live blog is by Allison Morris of the wildly entertaining Tales From LaLa Land. The following unedited, uncensored views aren’t necessarily those of The Cooler – which doesn’t mean they aren’t accurate, or hilarious. Enjoy!

(All times Eastern.)

8:30: That wraps the Red Carpet Live Blog. Here's Jason.

8:25: Miley's eye makeup looks stunning. Too bad I am sidetracked by the fact that one of her front two teeth is three inches shorter than the other.

8:20: Sarah Jessica Parker looks terrible. Terrible makeup. She's not aging gracefully at all. It wouldn't hurt her to put a few pounds on her frame. Her husband constantly looks bored and disgusted by all this, but you can tell she loves it. I don't blame her. It would be fun to wear a Chanel dress on loan. Cameron Diaz obviously practiced the same answer: Something about this being an opportunity to catch up with people she hasn't seen since working with them. It's an odd answer, but I guess it helps her justify being there. She looks extremely tired. Or drunk. Or stoned.

8:12: Helen Mirren is so pretty. She looks beautiful. Part of that has to do with the fact that she doesn't look like she's had 47 botox injections. Also, ABC must have worked tirelessly to build this cover for the red carpet. It's very, very windy here today, but we're not seeing any of that. Everyone seems warm and there are no flyaways.

8:08: Because of this live-blog, my husband just went to the store for Sunday night grocery shopping. I won't even describe my level of anxiety, but here's to hoping we aren't eating Oreos for dinner.

8:07: I love the supporting actress category. It's a cool feature to see them all standing next to each other. There's been a lot of rumors that Maggie G. got plastic surgery on her face. I was trying to see what it would be, but she looks the same to me. After the supporting actress group interview, we are thrown to Maggies brother, Jake G., being interviewed by the world's most annoying interviewer.

8:00: Cameron Diaz is not wearing red. And she looks baked out of her mind. This is the end of the E! coverage so I am switching to ABC now.

7:55: It's so tacky for Ryan to constantly push nominees. Why would he ask, "Are you ready for your speech?" Sure, there are frontrunners, but what does he expect them to say? And when he's asking Sandra about her speech, what is he supposed to say to Meryl Streep? It's in poor taste, Ryan.

7:45: I am a huge Robert Downey, Jr., fan. Huge. Please, please, please don't let him fall off the wagon. His life is better when he's off the bad shit. He's great for movies. He's hot. His wife runs his shit. He's a good man. I am pulling for him. One of my favorite movies ever is Less Than Zero, but I sometimes wonder if it lead to bad things for him. He's one of those very serious actors who dives into his roles, so I do not condone him playing Ozzy Osborne in a movie. Ever.

7:42: Keanu Reeves needs to shave that shit off his face. Wow. Just saw Kristen Stewart. She looks really good. She's smiling, and doesn't seem miserable. Why does Ryan insist on introducing people on the red carpet. It really creates awkward moments. However, I really loved that Gabourey Sidibe fist-bumped Keanu. However, I don't follow the porn comment.

7:35: I would really like to drink with George Clooney for one night. I hate his hair tonight, but he's tipsy, happy, and really funny. He doesn't take himself to seriously, and really doesn't seem affected by any of this. Good for him. Clooney and company are followed by Meryl Streep her just OWNED Ryan. Also, I will take back my snark on J-Lo because she seemed really sweet when talking to Ryan.

7:30: Matt Damon does not play. He's not being rude to Ryan, but you can tell that he thinks the questions are bullshit (or by this point he's sick of answering the same questions), and that he doesn't want to waste his time doing this. At least he was nicer than Angelina Jolie last year. Just got a glimpse of Jason Bateman. He is yummy. Also just got a glimpse of J-Lo, and I'm wondering why she is there. She never met a red carpet she didn't love. I know that her ass is her best feature, but that dress makes her look even wider than usual.

7:23: How adorable is Stanley Tucci? I love him. What. The. Fuck. is Charlize Theron wearing? She should have laid off the apple pipe when she picked out her dress. It's unfortunate because she's beautiful. But, no one will be looking at her face. They'll be looking at her boobs. I guess that's probably how it usually for most girls anyway.

7:17: I am not even going to touch Miley and her mom. If my mom had those back tattoos, she would not be with me at the Oscars in a backless dress. Anyway, I almost feel like I shouldn't even discuss what Kathryn Bigelow is wearing. The fact that she could potentially become the first female to win an Oscar for directing makes me want to talk about her work instead of her look. Unfortunately, I haven't seen the movie, so I don't know if she truly deserves the nod, but it's 2010 and I think it's about time that a woman wins for directing. Not to mention, she would be edging out her ex-husband, James Cameron. I don't care if the divorce was amicable or not - that would probably feel damn good. Especially considering The Hurt Locker cost 1/20 of what Avatar cost. You go girl!

7:10:Tim McGraw is drunk. Or something. Faith Hill is a very pretty lady, but she doesn't look that stunning tonight. I don't like her makeup. Also, is Ryan the shortest person on the red carpet? Come on, Miley Cyrus. Quit channeling your inner Kristen Stewart and stand up straight. Act like you belong there. Even though you don't.

7:03: I'm pretty sure Tyler Perry (or TP if you're Ryan Seacrest) just gave a shout out to my blog.

7:00: I definitely like when people take risks with their fashion, but I'm on the fence about Diane Kruger's dress. The detail is impressive, and it's very feminine, but I don't like the black thing around her neck. I think I like the dress from the waste down. By the way, Sandra said "poo poo" on the red carpet.

6:55: EEEK! Sandra looks GORGEOUS. She looks like an Oscar winner! Her body is flawless - she looks fit. There's a difference between fit and anorexic. Fit people eat and workout. Anyway, her hair looks beautiful and the dress looks fantastic. She's the frontrunner for Best Actress, and she certainly looks the part.

6:45: Could there be two opposite ends of the Hollywood spectrum standing side by side than James Cameron and Maggie Gyllenhaal? The box office giant and the little Indie star. She looks really pretty. Her dress is different. It fits her nice. I'm still deciding if I love it.

6:40: Ryan and Ryan are totally acting like Sandra Bullock has a dick! WTF. I feel your pain, Sandy! (And, I'd love to have a brother/sister relationship with Ryan Reynolds. It would be called incest).

6:35: I wish I could get back the two minutes of my life that I spent watching Nicole Richie be interviewed on the red carpet. Her best known role: Paris Hilton's sidekick on a REALITY SHOW. Why is she being interviewed? On the flip side, I love Vera Farmiga's dress. And, I really loved her performance in Up in the Air. Her interview with Ryan is not going so well. It went from bad to worse when she labeled Kathryn Bigelow as her pick for Best Director, forgetting that Jason Reitman was nominated for Up in the Air. Poor thing. She didn't mean any harm by it, but it will probably stick with her for the rest of the night.

6:30: Why is Ryan asking everyone on the carpet if they saw Avatar? Ryan, everyone saw Avatar. It's the highest grossing movie ever. That dress that Zoe Saldana is wearing is terrible. She gorgeous, so it almost works, but the ti-colored ruffles aren't doing it for me.

6:23Was E! behind the scenes with Ryan and Giuliana Rancic to try and convince us that she eats? I am not buying it.

6:20: Do you think Maria Carey knows that she's no longer relevant? I will give her credit that she's still working. And working hard at trying to remain atop the Hollywood A-list. But, she's sloppy. And I cringe every time she talks. She looks fine. Nothing special. Nothing crazy. Just meh. At least she isn't falling out all over the place.

6:15: Boo. I love Anna Kendrick. Her dress is very pretty, but the color completely blends in with her skin. She handled Ryan's question about the dissed dress really well. She's very well spoken and renews my faith in young Hollywood. Mo'Nique seemed to be very genuine and sweet when meeting Anna. That was really nice to see. Except I don't know what Mo'Nique just meant about kids in grown up faces. And, I believe Ryan just guaranteed a win for her. The first reference to rain!

6:08: Zac Efron is wearing too much makeup and self tanner. He saw Avatar four times. And, he's jerking off Sam Worthington. By the way, when Sam told Ryan that the Avatar took 15 months to make, I had flashbacks of Leo DiCaprio doing press for Titanic. Remember how someone laced the lobster chowder on the set of the Titanic with PCP? I always figured Leo was ready for a break after a grueling filming schedule or that someone felt the mood needed to be lifted.

5:55: By Los Angeles standards, it's cold today. Even worse: there's wind. This will make for an interesting red carpet. Wind does not work well with pretty hair. I don't know what I'd do if I was a famous Hollywood actress on a cold, windy night in a backless dress. I don't like to be cold or uncomfortable. I would probably beg for some kind of jacket or wrap. But, designers want their dresses to be seen, so it's not often that you see these women covered up. They are better people than I.

So, there will be an extra factor going on tonight. It will be fun to see how all the pretty people smile despite being cold. Because you know most of them haven't eaten in a week to decrease their body fat even further, which means less protection from the elements.

2:00: To think there was a time when I thought Matthew McConaughey was dreamy. I wouldn’t be surprised if that statement alone gets me kicked off The Cooler. Ghosts of Girlfriends Past was the nail in the McConaughey coffin. Or was it Fool's Gold? That was some shit right there.

Why am I even talking about him? He has nothing to do with the Oscars. Except that he used to date Sandy, who by many accounts is the frontrunner to win Best Actress (The Blind Side) this year – a year that she also starred in All About Steve. At least she was in that dreadfulness before she knew she might win an Oscar. Too bad the same can’t be said for Gwyneth Paltrow, who starred in Shallow Hal AFTER she won the statuette for Shakespeare in Love.

If my memory serves me correctly, I don’t think Jason is a big Sandra fan. I think it might be this quote from his blog, “Because most sports movies are mediocre, and because most movies starring Sandra Bullock are worse than that and because I have read the book upon which it is based, I had no intention of seeing The Blind Side.”

I like Sandra because she seems like a real person. She doesn’t seem to be driven by PR or fake bullshit the way a lot of actors are. Just think, in the weeks leading up to the Oscars, there haven’t been a lot of “random” tabloid photos of her, she hasn’t been seen with a cup of Starbucks walking in a Pap friendly neighborhood, and she hasn’t been campaigning for this win. I totally don’t count her husband’s dog being lost in Long Beach as a PR stunt. I might be wrong on this, but who would throw their dog on the 405 in Long Beach for PR?

OK, maybe Aniston.

But not my Sandy. She is funny. She isn’t stick thin. She has a personality. And a bad-boy husband.

Love. Her.

I haven’t seen The Blind Side, so I can’t comment on her performance. However, I will be here at The Cooler starting at 6 pm ET to see what she’s wearing.

I’m not here to discuss which performance was the best or what movie deserves the nod. I will say this though: Avatar better not win. Excuse me for not doing jumping jacks over a movie with cool effects in 2010. And, please, don’t insult me by trying to mask that bullshit story with pretty 3D birds and 12-foot tall blue men that look anorexic. I’m much more of an Up in the Air kind of girl. I like movies that have meaning behind what you see. Movies that have multi-layered characters, and storylines that leave me thinking about it four days later. I thought Anna Kendrick was phenomenal in Up in the Air, in part because of how she held her own with Clooney. Impressive feat for a girl who was in Twilight. She stole the movie for me.

Kendrick is a long shot to win Best Supporting Actress; by all accounts it’s Mo'Nique’s to lose. But I love this category. Loved Vera Farmiga (nothing but a tie, hello!), and I'm a lover of Maggie Gyllenhaal because of her performance in one of my all time favorite movies – Secretary. (Like I said, I like movies that make you think.) I am very excited to see what Maggie wears because she definitely won’t be in a simple – and safe – little black dress a la Aniston. She’ll be bold, and different, and I like that. I also can’t wait to see Carey Mulligan. Now that’s a gorgeous girl. How I wish I could wear short hair like that.

Looking forward to gossiping with you all.

Allison will be online at 6 pm ET to begin her coverage. Please follow along (hit the refresh key often) and add your thoughts in the comments section. The Cooler's live blog of the Academy Awards will begin at 8 pm ET.

Read more of Allison at Tales From LaLa Land.