wrod.

I know nothing about how Hughes actually appeared,

Darkly handsome, cheekbones for miles, very, very masculine appearance. On the Robert Mitchum end of the gorgeous-guy scale, not the Leslie Howard end.

> On the Robert Mitchum end of the gorgeous-guy scale, not the Leslie Howard end.

Also, he had the tall lanky, slightly stooped posture of Jimmy Stewart.

Handsome Hughes

guh. Not enough to cancel out tissue-box shoes, but still.

Oh, nice. Does DiCaprio move right? Talk right? On a scale of one to batshit, how'd he do?

a scale of one to batshit

I'm using this rating system for EVERYTHING now.

Another picture. [link]

I just realized this is the first year in at least ten that I haven't seen all the Best Picture nominees. Not only that, I haven't seen any of 'em! I have seen several of the best cinematic trainwrecks of the year though, at a theatre where it seems most people (myself included) talk to the screen. That talkin' was more entertaining than the movies being shown.

Hughes apparently was something of a ringer for Tyrone Power.

Okay, I can't link directly to the photo. Click on Photos on that page, and theb click on the third one down, on the left.

So, I finally saw Sideways. I definitely liked it, but I'm not deeply in love with it or anything. It escaped the Lost in Translation effect, though, thankfully. I understand the love for it, but I don't have it myself yet. It's just so...simple? It's a story about two guys in the wine country, and they have experiences, and it doesn't try to be more than a good story, and so it works. It's also quite funny, which helps the entertainment value.

Vonnie, this will not surprise you in the least, but I searched the thread and found a comment of yours that I agree with it. Look shocked. That moment when Miles hears about Victoria's baby? You can see the pain etched in his face. That's the only way I can describe it. That's when I really understood all the Paul Giamatti accolades. And Teppy, the image of Miles drinking the mythical 1961 wine in a styrofoam cup, with a burger and onion rings, sitting alone in a diner is one of the most deeply sad things I've seen in a while.

There was one thing I had an issue with, and maybe it's just me. Are we supposed to feel sympathy for Jack? As soon as I discovered he was deliberately going to cheat on his fiancée, having no qualms at all about it, I stopped liking him. I don't mind adulterous characters if they're actually struggling with it or have some sort of reason for it, but Jack's few shreds of doubt weren't enough, for me, to justify that sort of behavior. He deserved that pummeling. And then when he got all red in the face with "You don't understand my plight" and "I can't lose Christine," I just thought, "Well fuck you, you ass." And then he got away with it! Right there in the Armenian Catholic church. I know he was supposed to be a foil to Miles, but I wasn't sure how I was supposed to feel about him.

I also didn't think Maya's big monologue, the one all the critics talk about when discussing her Oscar nomination, was such hot shit. It felt a little forced and obvious and "hey, here's the big metaphor of the movie!" I mean she was practically looking right at the camera, and the music had stopped just to showcase it. I liked Miles' I-am-a-pinot-grape monologue just before better.

(Oh! That's where I've seen Sandra Oh before. Last Night. Okay. I knew the name was familiar.)

It's no Eternal Sunshine, but it's a good movie, for sure. Since I haven't seen any of the other Best Picture nominees, I'll be rooting for it next week.