Recently, I was lucky enough to be invited on NPR to talk about the adapted screenplay race. It surprised host Rachel Martin that the screenplay race, it turned out, wasn’t so much about the individual screenplays as it was about the Best Picture category. This is probably the hardest thing to grasp about the way Oscars vote. Everybody votes for everything when it comes to picking the winners in the various categories. So you have actors voting for cinematography, editors voting for screenplay, costumers voting for animation, publicists voting for actors — and everyone votes for Best Picture. The truly best indicator of what the professional industry thinks are really the guild awards.

She was also surprised to hear that those voting for adapted screenplay don’t have to have seen all of the films nominated. Heck, the year Brokeback lost to Crash many Academy members came out and admitted they didn’t see the movie. This year, if you polled Academy members I bet you’d find that there are those voting members who still have to have seen all nine of the nominees. Voting is buzz and perception. When you fall in love with a pretty girl across the room not only do you not see anyone else but you don’t even want to look at anyone else. Such is the conundrum of choosing “best.”

Continue reading…


Back in 1999, when Oscarwatch.com first began, the highest of priorities was to correctly predict the Oscar race.  There was only one other site, for the most part, that predicted the Oscars – Tom O’Neil’s GoldDerby.com.    Tom’s site collected mostly film critics who lined up to give their Oscar predictions every year.  The LA Times did theirs, with the help of Kenneth Turan, and no doubt the lot of you did your own Oscar predicting.  My aim as an Oscarwatcher was to understand the process.  If you ever read early interviews with me, when Variety and other outlets asked me why I started my site, I would always say that I wanted to find out why, for instance, Citizen Kane didn’t beat How Green Was My Valley,when the former is now considered, by many, to be the best film of the year — in fact, one of the finest films of all time.

I don’t know if you asked Oscar voters which film they thought was the best film ever made if they’d answer Citizen Kane.  I know that film critics write film history.  Oscar voters don’t.   And now I know full well why Citizen Kane wasn’t ever going to win the Oscar.  It took me a few years, a few heartbreaks, a few happy surprises to see how things go.  And by now, I can feel the tide as it shifts and I can see what’s coming.  I think people assumed last year that when The Social Network lost the Producers Guild that it was a big surprise.  The big surprise last year was how many awards it did win leading up to the race: no one thought it could ever win Best Picture.  David Poland proclaimed The Social Network.  Dave Karger, our predicting head guru, provisioned The King’s Speech instead.  This race was going to be a return to the conventional “Oscar movie” and an ice cold, brilliant piece of work by David Fincher would not.  But then it started winning shit? Not only did it win everything but it won where it wasn’t supposed to, sweeping the NBR and the Globes.  At some point it went from no way, to maybe? To oh my god, could it? Might it? Yes, it might! Yes, it can! Yes, it will! It can’t lose!  So then you have people who folded their arms in front of them and now say “I knew it would never win.”  “I never fell for it.” “It was always going to be the King’s Speech.” “Oscar voters aren’t critics.”  On and on it went, the weathermen taking credit for the storm they saw coming, and those explaining away how they could have missed those clouds on the horizon, the temperature shift in the air, the signs.

Continue reading…


There are few movies that feel like they could give The Artist some heat: Hugo and The Descendants.  Perhaps, as many a Tweeter will tell you, “it’s been The Artist since Cannes.” And okay, fine.  Maybe.  What makes The Artist such a threat? It is loved by many, hated by few.  Almost every other film in the race has its haters.  But how can you hate The Artist? It’s like hating Slumdog Millionaire or The King’s Speech.  You can’t – it’s would be akin to drop-kicking poor little Uggie across the room.  You hate yourself inside for hating something that lovely and brilliantly made – a silent, black and white movie no less.  No one is going to realistically have anything to complain about if The Artist wins.  Not even GQ’s Natasha Vargas-Cooper, who went on a tirade about how much she hates American Beauty in retrospect:

Yet, so often during this splendid time of year, the conversation trumps the conversation piece and it becomes impossible to see Oscar contenders objectively during their time. Take 1999, a momentous year for movies that lead to some of the most contemptible wins in Oscar history. Indie turks like Alexander Payne, Paul Thomas Anderson, and David O. Russell—who made a name for themselves laboring on shoestring budgets during the early ’90s—were given studio backing, bona-fide stars, and just enough license to ensure their scripts wouldn’t be nitpicked to the point of banality. This was the year Fight Club, The Matrix, Three Kings, Office Space, Being John Malkovich, Election, Magnolia, and South Park: Bigger, Longer and Uncut were released. A new aesthetic and intellectual order was gelling, one that would later come to define ’90s cinema: a mini-golden age, when today’s best working directors and writers were actively demolishing the old guard by bucking middlebrow, feel-good formulas in favor of dark, irony-laden, sometimes mind-bending, and sinister narratives that pulsated with equal parts exuberance and disenchantment.

Continue reading…



It was hard not to notice Robin Wright at the Critics Choice awards, striding out onto the stage with her still impossibly youthful legs, and announcing that 2011 was the Year of the Woman.  She referenced Bridesmaids and Dragon Tattoos, probably because she couldn’t say housemaids.   Either way, Bridesmaids, The Help and The Girl with Dragon Tattoo have reinvented what defines a hit and what defines an “Oscar movie.”  All three have been underestimated for one reason or another and yet have managed to stay relevant, even if the majority of the other films are more traditional male-driven narratives.  But the year of the woman?  Could it really be?

Look a little closer and you see a lot of strong female characters — Chloe Moretz in Hugo is a writer and drives much of the action.  Shailene Woodley is the best and most forceful thing about the Descendants and in Midnight in Paris it is the women who show Owen Wilson the way. One pulls him in, one pushes him out.  And then there’s Gertrude Stein (who punched him in the mouth).  Finally, The Artist is about two different careers and in the end the one who emerges from the ashes, saves the protagonist from ruin is a woman.   Of course, in this year’s awards race, Bernice Bejo is stuffed into the supporting category (where she belongs, damnit!) but in fact, she really is a co-lead with Jean Dujardin.

Continue reading…


“It is true, she was a waitress,” Granser acknowledged. “But she was a good woman, and your mother was her daughter. Women were very scarce in the days after the Plague. She was the only wife I could find, even if she was a hash-slinger, as your father calls it. But it is not nice to talk about our progenitors that way.” Dad says that the wife of the first Chauffeur was a lady What’s a lady?” Hoo-Hoo demanded. A lady ‘s a Chauffeur squaw,” was the quick reply of Hare-Lip. The first Chauffeur was Bill, a common fellow, as I said before,” the old man expounded; “but his wife was a lady, a great lady. Before the Scarlet Death she was the wife of Van Worden. He was President of the Board of Industrial Magnates, and was one of the dozen men who ruled America. He was worth one billion, eight hundred millions of dollars—coins like you have there in your pouch, Edwin. And then came the Scarlet Death, and his wife became the wife of Bill, the first Chauffeur. He used to beat her, too. I have seen it myself.” Continue reading…

fincher mara

It’s been a funny year for Oscar movies. The trial separation between critics and the industry has widened to a full blown divorce. The Artist and Moneyball are heading down the track to Oscar’s Best Picture with the most outstanding response from critics. Decent reviews have befallen most of the other top films, but only those two received near universal acclaim. It isn’t that the critics didn’t love any movies, it’s that the movies they seemed to love can’t get arrested in this year’s Oscar race. Signs and wonders. And so it was with this that the biggest surprise in the race so far was delivered yesterday by the Directors Guild, which giveth to David Fincher and The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo and taketh away from Steven Spielberg and War Horse.

It must be said that War Horse probably wasn’t conceived to be an Oscar juggernaut. It was made as and marketed as a family film. The studio’s concern is to make money, which it is doing. All of the Oscar bluster around it was self-generated inside the bubble movie writers inhabit. As the presumed defacto frontrunner there was simply no way it could win — the hype destroys even the best of films. All you have to do is place a film in the frontrunner’s spot and it is ripe for overtaking. Why, because we define ourselves by how we vote. And if we vote for what everyone else is voting for what does that say about us? People who vote just to be contrary or separate themselves from the herd annoy me to no end every year: pick the movies you love and be done with it.

Continue reading…


Midnight in Paris
(Sony Pictures Classics)

The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo
(Columbia Pictures, Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Pictures)

The Artist
(The Weinstein Company)

The Descendants
(Fox Searchlight Pictures)

(Paramount Pictures)

Continue reading…

past is future

As I re-watched Avatar last night, or tried to, I was thinking about the future of cinema. I was thinking about how hard it is to sell dramas now to the general public. I was thinking about the Academy, and how difficult it must be for them to evolve out of the old way of presenting films to the new way they will be sold from now on. The only film that sort of addresses this changing of the guard is Hugo, which is traditional storytelling utilizing modern technology to ramp up the showmanship; the fresh enticement to get people out of their houses to buy tickets. We have to audiences a reason. An Avatar-like reason to shell out the dough. And with Hugo, the money is coming but it isn’t MI:4 money. It isn’t even Sherlock Holmes money or Twilight money or Harry Potter money or, alas, Bridesmaids or The Help money. And so people start talking about that like it actually matters. We can’t even count on our critics anymore to help us out here. They hard line it without considering the bigger picture, without seeing what’s coming next.

When it was down to Avatar vs. The Hurt Locker, most people knew by the end that the Academy would opt for the more nuts and bolts, traditional filmmaking –both as a way to silently protest the changing tide, but also to stem the tide for performance capture, 3-D technology and movies that cost a lot of money to make. That’s all fine and well if the nuts and bolts films make money and get good reviews. The Hurt Locker made no money but it was helped along by the critics. This year, you can mostly forget the critics. They’ve all but gone on vacation. Advocacy was never really their thing but it is even less their thing this year, after what happened last year.

Continue reading…



Men Who Hate Women. That’s what Stieg Larsson called his book, which then became The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. To know this story is to know Larsson. If you forget about him, the key to this story is lost. The story is about men who hate women and the women who fight back. Larsson was a bit of a hero in this and other battles he personally fought throughout his very short life. He was against the extreme right in Sweden, against racism and misogyny.  After witnessing the rape of the a 15 year old girl named Lisbeth, he never forgave himself for failing to help her.  This, it’s been said, was what motivated him to write his books.  A Swedish film did a great job of turning his book into a movie that was sold in countries all over the world. So why remake it at all?

Because a story about a female avenging those men who hate women is more relevant now that it ever has been. In fact, it’s downright revolutionary. The only kind of women we see are those who are unrealistic comic book heroes, or those who are trussed up as ultimate fantasy fodder for gamers. It’s getting worse, not better.

So, you could do as many a critic will no doubt suggest, not remake the movie. Let it just sit out there in Sweden as “their story.” Or, a popular American director like David Fincher can make Dragon Tattoo redux – he can take this well known story, render it with an obsessive’s eye, redefine its archetypical characters and most importantly, give a much wider audience the chance to experience the film’s gravitational center: Lisbeth Salander.

Continue reading…



Three of the year’s strongest female performances threaten convention, the one that says females are usually cast as supporting, loving, noble characters who give of themselves in the service of the male lead.  It’s not always the case, especially not so in the Best Actress race; what better way to get attention from Oscar voters than to go dark.

But in a year of such uplifting, feelgood films with admirable male leads, it’s interesting that when you look over at Best Actress, the reverse is true. With the exception of Viola Davis in The Help, the females are either not likable, or existing in their own ways on the fringes of the norm.  However, because women are a minority, they are always going to be held to the good role model/bad role model test.  Men, unless they’re Black or Hispanic, don’t really get held to this restriction.  But women – the dark always turns to whether women can be unlikable and still be strong Best Actress contenders.  Such was the case last year with Natalie Portman who played a prickly dancer in Black Swan.  Her ability to drive the story, to earn our pity and to fascinate us with every turn of her head inevitably won out — the warm fuzzies didn’t.

Continue reading…


“I’d imagine the whole world was one big machine. Machines never come with any extra parts, you know. They always come with the exact amount they need. So I figured, if the entire world was one big machine, I couldn’t be an extra part. I had to be here for some reason.” — Hugo

This year saw films by arguably the greatest directors America has ever produced — Woody Allen, Martin Scorsese, and Steven Spielberg. Those guys are the reasons many people have become filmmakers at all. Whole schools of filmmakers, generations flooding film schools everywhere, cut their teeth on their films. And they happen to be my own personal favorites. You might say my whole life has been shaped and decided by what I saw in films by these men over the past three decades. It is a strange turn of events that they will be in the race the same year. Though all three of their films are so good — even with their weaknesses they are still better than almost everything else we’ve seen this year. But of the three, only one has directed a masterpiece. And this because he’s telling the story from his heart, telling the story for his daughter, and at the same time, delving into the evolving technology of 3-D. In other words, Martin Scorsese is still growing, not resting on his laurels.

These three directors, though, have led three different schools of thought where filmmaking and storytelling are concerned. They all three started in the 1970s — was there ever a better decade for filmmaking? The 1970s was a time for open minds, when Fellini and Bergman were the flavors that changed how people thought about movies. The 1960s loosened the knot but the future of American film had its biggest quake in the ’70s because it signaled the beginning of Allen, Scorsese and Spielberg.

Continue reading…


“You gotta trust me on this one thing.  You need a lot of drinks.”
“To break the ice?”
“To kill the bug that’s crawled up your ass.”  — Terms of Endearment, one of the best Best Pictures.

The day after Christmas we look at the box office to try to figure out how the weekend that has been traditionally reserved for Oscar movies has fared so far.  The first thing someone tweets to me is that The Dragon Tattoo finished fourth with $20 million – was that going to impact its Oscar chances? Is that disappointing?  The answer for Sony is probably yes.  The answer for me is when I look at the top of the box office now it’s more of an insult to win it than it is anything else. Why, because audiences have stopped wanting to see films that were good.  Whatever it is they’ve been conditioned to want, whatever the dream machine is wafting out into the air ducts to get the people to spend money on entertainment — it is no indicator of quality. Not anymore.

Yes, if a film has a high budget and it can’t make back that money that almost always impacts its Oscar chances. But when the top three films of the weekend are sequels – passable (not terrible) sequels (passable now can be defined as actually good) I wouldn’t be caught dead dropping a cold twenty on, how can that possibly mean a movie that comes in fourth behind those three is a bad thing?

The question of the day for me, though: has it always been that way? When did the top of the box office stop showcasing good to great films? Why have things changed so dramatically? Is it the rise of the fanboy culture? Is it the economy? Is it the comfort of watching great HBO on our flat screens without having to spend money on pure crap? Is it all of those things?  When I can’t answer a question I dig back into our past.  And that is what I’ve done here.  I decided to look back at the past thirty years and the top twenty films of those years.

Continue reading…


If I had to choose one desert island producer making movies right now I’d have to go with Scott Rudin.  Count them, not one but three films being released at the end of this year. And even if you want to say that Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close is — whatever — that doesn’t take away the fact that it was a brave subject to take on in the first place.  Based on a book that was already divisive — as in, some folks thought it too precious — then adapted by Eric Roth, who, I’m here to tell you because I read it, wrote one of the best screenplays I’ve ever read.  I know that reading scripts and making them into movies are two different things.  But the film, though it may not entirely work, is a risk he took in getting it made. It’s so much easier to make a conventional movie that is all formula, pre-packaged and ready for consumption than it is to take a leap of faith with a great idea.  You win some, you lose some but the producers who stop taking chances because it impacts the bottom line? The producers who only make movies that are dumbed-down to the lowest common demo of 13- (going on 30-) year-old boys? The directors who forsake taking risks because the critics give them such a thrashing when those risks don’t exactly pay off? Well, here’s a guy out there getting it done, making or attempting to make great films — films that appeal to actual thinking adults. Huh.  Imagine that in 2011.  It’s practically unheard of.

He gets my Desert Island vote for last year’s wildly successful masterpiece, The Social Network, and for his having produced No Country for Old Men – arguably the best film I’ve ever watched win Best Picture.  There Will Be Blood, Doubt, to name a few. What I see when I look at his resume isn’t necessarily one box office success or Oscar winner after another – but I see someone who is unafraid of taking chances.  One of the stupidest stories that ever came out of last year’s Oscars was the very thing Nikki Finke accused Rudin of doing: not coming to the Oscars because The Social Network wasn’t going to win.  Honestly? After the DGA handed the award to Tom Hooper I would have stopped showing up too.  And not because I wasn’t going to win; the Greek chorus watching the dog and pony show unfold was too trained on watching how Harvey and Scott thrived or bled out for anyone to stomach.  There was a lot more to it than just this film versus that film.

Continue reading…


While audiences and film fans are open to other possibilities, the generally held opinion is that the Academy voters are big softies in the final analysis. They’re spoken about like the old relatives you’ll be inviting to Thanksgiving — condescended to, and essentially written off as having any sort of validity when it comes to choosing the best.

The subject was brought up recently on Twitter as to whether or not the Academy “could handle” The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo or whether the film would be “too much” for their delicate sensibilities.  When did this idea come up, that the Academy had to have things soft and mushy and family-friendly?  It’s hard to know, but last year’s end game didn’t help matters.  There will always be the mind vs. heart argument and there will always be the “it’s too much for them” lament. Would you take your grandmother to see that movie? Would you take your grandmother, your teenager, your maid and your boss to see that movie? Your Oscar winner almost always fits – even when it was The Hurt Locker, even when it was something as seemingly abstract as No Country for Old Men (my pick for their best choice for Best Picture in the last twenty years).

This year more than any other the popular films aren’t necessarily “Oscar movies.”  The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo is a crowdpleasing thriller with, gasp, actual sex scenes. Real sex scenes and a graphic rape scene (two, actually).  Believe it or not there are still some hard core thinkers in the Academy – there have to be, right?  Let’s take a look back at films that might have seemed at first glance like they weren’t “Oscar movies” and yet, they were good enough that voters decided to break out of their stereotype.

Continue reading…


This year there are more writer/directors than there have been in a long while.   Scripts, original and adapted, usually power the engine that makes a great movie great.  All of the wonderful writing in the world, however, can’t save a film that a director, producer or studio has strangled within an inch of its life.  One decision can completely derail the best screenplays, just as a minor change can sometimes mean the difference between a good movie and a great one; we tend to think always of Roman Polanski and Robert Towne on Chinatown, still one of the best films ever made and much of that is due to Polanski’s singular decision to change the ending, to not give it a happy one.  Chinatown would probably not be considered the masterpiece it is today without that significant change.  It’s hard to imagine a studio taking such a gamble now, as films cost too much money to take such a risk.  At that time, though, it seemed that they were more concerned about making a great film than they were about how much money that film would make.  Priorities have shifted as the cost to make big Hollywood movies has soared.  Making something more palatable for audiences, though, can often detroy the film’s intent.  Witness the end of Charlie Wilson’s War as written by Aaron Sorkin versus the glossed over, neutered ending that the Mike Nichols film ultimately delivered.  The whole point of the film was lost with that one decision.  But it’s like William Goldman wrote, nobody knows anything, and in truth, you make your best call and let the chips fall where they may.

Continue reading…


It began the year being perceived as the film that would take down Oscar, along the lines of Saving Private Ryan – an unflinching look at WWII.  Probably it was never going to be Schindler’s List, an unflinching look at the Holocaust.  Or maybe along the lines of ET, a film about a special bond between a human and an alien.  But, as it happens, War Horse is none of these things.  It’s Spielberg’s first family film that lacks even the edge that E.T. and Hook had.  No, this, like his other film out this year, Tintin, is sincerity kicked up to 11.  Not that there’s anything wrong with that.  Heartfelt emotion that moves only in one direction is the stuff that many a war film from the 1940s, say, were made on.  One thing I’m starting to understand about film critics is that they like nostalgic homages to our cinematic past perhaps more than they like films that try to do something new. Nothing new there; it is human nature to choose from a limited number of familiar things – hence the success of sequels, TV shows, McDonald’s and Starbucks. So it’s easier to wrap your mind around a movie that reminds you of John Ford than it is to see a movie that really comes baring no historical context whatsoever.  This is why War Horse is probably going to be embraced by major critics, despite its weaknesses.

Continue reading…




Here is my top ten for 2011. Hopefully, Ryan’s, Beth’s and Craig’s will follow.

Top Ten

1. Hugo
2. The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo
3. Rise of the Planet of the Apes/Project Nim
4. Moneyball
5. Shame
6. The Descendants
7. The Artist
8. We Need to Talk About Kevin
9. Margin Call
10. Attack the Block
11. Rampart

12. J. Edgar
13. Drive
14. Tree of Life
15. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 2
16. Poetry
17. Tyrannosaur

The imperfect but worthy:
18. War Horse
19. Contagion
20. Bridesmaids
21. Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close

Continue reading…



Reviews, like the Oscars, like your own impressions, are moments in time captured.  Some of that enthusiasm or hatred will last a long time.  You might be surprised to find, for instance, that Chicago got more scores of 100 on Metacritic than American Beauty, The English Patient, Unforgiven, and the Silence of the Lambs.  You might also find that no film ever won Best Picture since 1990 without having at least one score of 100.  The lowest was Gladiator with 2.  The highest was Return of the King with 26.  Yes, there are more critics now, but even when you average it out, the top get is still Return of the King, which makes it the best reviewed film in twenty years.  Gladiator is the worst. In the time that the awards season has exploded, post-Gladiator, the overall score and critical acclaim for Best Pictures has risen.  The number of critics Metacritic counts as valid has also risen.   The top ten of best scores of 100 per the amount of critics giving reviews have mostly occurred since 2000, with two exceptions: Schindler’s List and Shakespeare in Love.  The two films that didn’t hit very high and hover low on the list of high scores: A Beautiful Mind, Gladiator and Crash.

But it seems safe to say that Best Picture winners, even last year included, have been very well reviewed films.  There seems to be a wider and wider disconnect, though, between the public and the critics.  And since many of the members of the public are now coming of age and becoming critics themselves things feel a little strange “out there.”  There are always a few movies that hit with “the internet” but not so much with critics or with the public.  One of those movies this year is Drive.  The internet likes Harry Potter, Melancholia, Martha Marcy May Marlene, and is okay with The Artist.  But if you want to see how the straight-up  majority of internet users (who are young people — coming of age online, reared on the kind of mediocre entertainment mainstream Hollywood has been dishing out to them for years) you’ll see a list something like MSN’s users top ten:

MSN Movies Users’ Top 10 Poll

1. Harry Potter
2. Twilight
3. The Help
4. Bridesmaids
5. Rise of the Planet of the Apes
6. Captain America
7. X-Men: First Class
8. Fast Five
9. The Descendants
10. Moneyball

Continue reading…



Right after the SAG noms, EW’s Dave Karger, who has been predicting The Artist to win since very early in the season, tweeted out “bad news for Hugo – no film in 15 years has won Best Picture without a SAG nomination.”   That’s some good research, there.  And indeed, you have to go back to Braveheart to find a film that won Best Picture without a SAG nom. Almost all of them, even if they didn’t have individual acting nods, had an ensemble nod at least.

By my count, then, and according to Karger’s rule, the only films that can win are: The Artist, Moneyball, The Descendants and The Help (always comes down to those) – I guess Midnight in Paris if you want to stretch it.  However, the thing to remember is that rules are meant to be broken. I would never simply resign to this truth.  After all, The Social Network’s loss last year broke an even longer tradition of critics awards aligning and a Best Picture not winning.  Kathryn Bigelow’s win broke 82 years of Oscar history. Imagine if someone had said “no woman has won Best Director in 82 years.” Was that going to stop me or you from believing that Bigelow could win? No.

Continue reading…

In David Cronenberg’s A Dangerous Method Viggo Mortensen is nearly unrecognizable. Few actors today really dive into the research the way he does and it shows in each new incarnation Mortensen delivers. He is one of the most unpredictable actors because he never gives you what you expect, and he never repeats himself. He is a character actor, a shapeshifter, someone who has the perceptive tools of a painter, a poet and a musician.

The thing about his work here is that all of his research, all of his thoughtful examination of his character’s motivations and identity is on the screen.  Somehow, it shows.  You look into his characters — they, as David Byrne might say, have a view.  The striations of experience reveal themselves so that there is never any question that you’re watching a character and not Mortensen, who all but disappears into them.

He functions a bit as Cronenberg’s muse. Much of this, according to the director, is Mortensen’s own enthusiasm for the work. Who wouldn’t want to work with an actor who is up late emailing back and forth various things he’s thinking about and uncovering about his character? He’s someone who could have skated by on his leading man status but instead he morphed in and out of the strangest, most compelling characters in film.

That he wasn’t nominated for The Road illuminates everything that is wrong with the Oscar race; if you’re not in the business of awarding that kind of acting how can you use the word “best” in all seriousness? He’s up to bat again playing Freud in the Cronenberg film this year, this time in Supporting.

I had an email exchange with Mortensen about Cronenberg and A Dangerous Method. The questions and answers after the cut.

Continue reading…

Sign In


Reset Your Password