CinemaDope

George, you’ve pretty much done the Vegas heist thing. How about putting Matt, Brad and the reconstituted Pack in an underwater heist film?

Interested? I’ve got the perfect high-concept project for you and Soderbergh.

See-worthier with Clooney?

It’s an all-but-forgotten crime caper that’s ripe for a remake because the first time around (1966) Paramount and Sinatra Enterprises dropped the ball: Bad script, sub-par effects … typically cavalier performance by Frank “One Take” Sinatra.

It’s called “Assault on a Queen” ‒ great title, eh? ‒ and has a terrific part for you as a charter boat captain named Mark Brittain. While hunting for a Spanish galleon off the Florida coast, Brittain (we can lose the name) bumps into a coral-encrusted U-boat.

The gambit: You raise the sub, recondition it, and use it to rob the Queen Mary, mid-ocean.

In the original, the job was bankrolled by a rich Italian played by sexpot du jour Virna Lisi.

Rewrite for a more mature gal pal — and call Julia!

The plan unravels when a member of your team who’s an ex-Nazi uses the sub’s torpedoes to even the score for World War 2.

Swedish actor Alf Kjellin played the German in the original. He got all the reviews. The part has Christoph Waltz written all over it!

Come to think of it, maybe you should forget Soderbergh and offer this one to Tarantino. He’d love the camp components.

Don’t wait on this, George. With narco subs and Somali pirates much in the news, it’s both relevant and fun.

I’ve included a self-addressed envelope for the customary finder’s fee.

by Glenn Lovell

If young people are getting up and walking out on “The Rite,” it’s because the film is being marketed wrong ‒ as a horror flick rather than a serious, fact-based exorcism drama, insists Father Gary Thomas, the Saratoga priest whose training in Rome was detailed in the nonfiction “The Rite: The Making of a Modern Exorcist.”

Rev. Gary Thomas

The New Line – Warner Bros. release, which scared up OK box office its first week, stars Anthony Hopkins as a batty-seeming exorcist and Colin O’Donoghue as a character based loosely on Rev. Thomas, pastor at Sacred Heart Catholic Church in Saratoga and one of 25 sanctioned exorcists in the U.S.

“I keep telling folks, ‘You’ll find the movie doesn’t match the trailers,’” says Thomas. “It’s not primarily a horror flick. But, you know, New Line never asked my opinion. They’re in the business of selling movies; I’m in the business of the priesthood and Jesus Christ.”

The 57-year-old priest says he has carried out “about 40” exorcisms in five years but finds that the majority of people seeking his help “do not have diabolical problems, they have mental health issues.”

The ones who were possessed acted much like characters in “The Rite”: They contorted and shook uncontrollably, “as if they had an extreme case of Parkinson’s.” Others took on “a serpentine look, flopped out of their chair and curled up in a snake-like form.”

Such firsthand knowledge of the satanic made Thomas an invaluable asset to the filmmakers. He was invited to the Budapest set, where he gave pointers to Sir Anthony. (The film’s exteriors were shot in Rome.)

“I was there as consultant pertaining specifically to the exorcism scenes,” he explains. “I was there to provide guidance with respect to the accuracy of the ritual and, well, act as a kind of ‒ I hate to use the word ‒ coach for Anthony Hopkins in terms of how he should function as an exorcist.”

Thomas instructed the rakish Sir Anthony to wear his collar “at all times.” He also held a tutorial on how to bless and use holy water. “I talked to him about the emotion and energy behind the prayers.”

Still, as is Hollywood’s wont, licenses were taken.

“I haven’t seen anyone cough up nails, but my priest mentor has,” he says. “I’ve never seen any object vomited, period. And I’ve never been attacked to the degree that Colin’s character is. But I’ve had people come out of their chairs at me. I get attacked all the time when I’m doing this.”

Thomas is no horror fan. He has, however, seen a handful of exorcism movies, including William Friedkin’s 1973 “The Exorcist,” which he found “very over-the-top,” and “The Exorcism of Emily Rose,” which ‒ after “The Rite,” naturally ‒ he considers the best of the bunch.

As for the carping reviews that greeted “The Rite,” he shrugs them off. “The critics went in expecting a horror movie and they got a movie with depth. This is a very controversial, emotionally charged topic. It’s going to create a lot of conversation.”

Bottom line: The movie is true to the essence of Thomas’s story. “There isn’t anything in the movie that’s implausible. I’ve seen lots of unsightly things. I think if the average person saw some of the stuff, I think they’d be scared shitless.”

And if someone comes knocking in the middle of the night looking for an exorcist coach?

“I wouldn’t be opposed if I’m asked, but I have to be asked and I have to have my bishop’s permission.”

It wouldn’t be Oscar season without a gripe or two about a favorite candidate being overlooked. Why wasn’t Christopher Nolan nominated for his dream of a thriller “Inception”? Why wasn’t Mark Wahlberg allowed to share in the love for “The Fighter,” a movie he willed into existence? Why wasn’t Julianne Moore tapped for her endearingly loony performance in “The Kids Are Alright”?

These omissions, however, pale in comparison to the shellacking Roman Polanski’s “The Ghost Writer” took at the hands of Academy members. The conspiracy thriller starring Ewan McGregor and Pierce Brosnan wasn’t just overlooked in the best picture and director categories, it was overlooked across the board. For best adapted screenplay, best score, best supporting actor (a category Brosnan should have owned). Nothing. Zero. Zilch.

How is this possible? It was one of the best reviewed films of 2010 and, by near consensus, Polanski’s most accomplished feature since “Chinatown,” back in 1974.

Polanski: Ostracized by Oscar?

There was certainly more than elbow room in the best-picture category. Kick out the morbidly over-the-top “Black Swan” or the animated “Toy Story 3” and ‒ voila! ‒ a place of honor opens up.

Obviously a closer look is in order. Might Polanski, who fled Hollywood in 1978 to avoid a statutory rape sentence, have been penalized because:

√ “The Ghost Writer,” a mid-February release, opened too early and the Academy has a notoriously short memory. This being the case, studios vie for fall-winter slots: “Milk” opened in October; “Slumdog Millionaire” and “No Country for Old Men” opened in November; “Chicago,” “Shakespeare in Love” and “Million Dollar Baby” all arrived in December.

Dropping back to spring-summer: “Crash” and “Moulin Rouge!” opened in May;  “Winter’s Bone” went into limited release in June; “Saving Private Ryan” arrived in July; “Inglorious Basterds” and Clint Eastwood’s “Unforgiven” were August releases.

The closest I could come up with to Polanski’s lousy berth: “Marty,” which opened in April 1955 and went on to win four Oscars, including Best Picture and Best Actor.

√ The Academy shuns conspiracy thrillers. It certainly did “The Paralax View” (1974), with Warren Beatty sniffing out an assassination plot. But that was the exception. Oscar has smiled on numerous conspiracy thrillers, including “Z,” “All the President’s Men” and, most recently, “Syriana.”

√ The Academy hates Polanski. Hardly. Besides winning for best director in 2002 for “The Pianist,” the filmmaker was nominated for “Rosemary’s Baby,” “Tess” and “Chinatown.” All told, these four films racked up 26 nominations, with eight wins.

√ The Academy hated the publicity generated by Polanski’s recent arrest in Switzerland  stemming from that outstanding warrant. For three months, as the battle over his extradition raged, the “Academy Award-winning filmmaker” was international news. This sounds closer to it. Oscar is fanatical when it comes to safeguarding its shiny reputation and, as far as the board of governors is concerned, the filmmaker has dragged their hallowed name through the mud.

Drum roll and sentence: Polanski and “The Ghost Writer” are locked out of this year’s awards.

Collateral damage: Brosnan, once a shoo-in for his Tony Blair-inspired former prime minister.

Sad news about the passing of British film composer John Barry, who died Sunday at age 77.

Barry’s distinctively melancholic, jazz-infused music spanned some 40 years, from the Mod ’60s to the high-concept ’90s.

Barry with his BAFTA Award (2005)

While he earned Oscars for the high-toned fare, such as “The Lion in Winter” and “Out of Africa,” he was most identified with the Bond franchise, particularly the first three in the series — “Dr. No,” “From Russia with Love” and “Goldfinger.”

Barry was responsible for the vertiginous suspense motifs and exotic interludes. Not, he tired of reminding fans, the acoustical guitar riff that kicked in when Connery said, “My Name is Bond — James Bond.”

I ran into Barry only once, at the 1991 Oscars. He was there for Kevin Costner’s “Dances with Wolves.” Again, the music was unmistakably Barry-esque — robust, dark-tinged, dizzyingly circuitous.

So distinct was his sound, it often felt that he was recycling his own compositions. And sometimes he was.

It was Barry’s misfortune to be associated with almost as many stiffs as triumphs. He composed the scores for “Howard the Duck,” “The Betsy,” “The Legend of the Lone Ranger” and Dino de Laurentiis’s 1976 “King Konk.”

As for “The Deep,” with Robert Shaw, Nick Nolte and Jacqueline Bisset‘s wet t-shirt, Barry’s signature refrains rendered that pulp adventure almost palatable.

Not surprisingly, Barry was at his most personal when closest to home, composing music for such British productions as “Seance on a Wet Afternoon,” “The Whisperers,” “The L-Shaped Room” and “Zulu,” a battle epic that would be unthinkable without its rousing score.

Need proof of Barry’s greatness? Pull a copy of “The Ipcress File” from your DVD shelf and listen to one of the truly memorable 1960s spy themes. Michael Caine, who played Harry Palmer behind horn-rims, often attributed his early success to that sly variation on the Bond theme.

Jack NyBlom, co-owner of our local Camera Cinemas chain, sends greetings from the Sundance Film Festival, where, per usual, it’s around-the-clock shuttles to the hot tickets in independent cinema.

Of the titles he has screened so far, Jack reports he’s most excited about a quartet of quirky comedies: WIN WIN, TERRI, LIKE CRAZY and CEDAR RAPIDS.

“Win Win” — not to be confused with the recent Dutch film of the same title — is from actor-director Thomas McCarthy, who wow’d Sundance audiences eight years back with “The Station Agent.” McCarthy’s latest is a one-off sports yarn about a New Jersey lawyer / high school coach (Paul Giamatti) who happens upon an unlikely but talented wrestler (Alex Shaffer). Complications ensue when the boy’s hard-case mother (Melanie Lynskey) shows up at practice.

Jacob Wysocki, John C. Reilly in "Terri"

“Terri” — directed by Azazel Jacobs, who scored at Sundance with “Momma’s Man” — stars newcomer Jacob Wysocki as the target of high school jeers and indie darling John C. Reilly as the vice principal who takes an interest in the boy. Like last year’s “Cyrus,” this one looks to be a deadpan comedy about the pain of not fitting in.

Drake Doremus’ “Like Crazy” — snatched up by Paramount — co-stars Anton Yelchin and Felicity Jones as seriously  in love college students whose blissful all-nighters are interrupted by — timely plot device alert! — Uncle Sam and the lads from immigration.

Miguel Arteta, an old hand at Sundance (“The Good Girl,” “Chuck and Buck“), is back with the comedy “Cedar Rapids,” about an insurance agent (Ed Helms) who falls under the spell of three serious party animals at an annual convention. Anne Heche, Isiah Whitlock Jr., and Reilly at his most lovably raunchy co-star.

“Been crazy here,” reports Jack, behind bruised orbs. “Looking forward to slowing down and digesting it all.”

If he has his way, Jack will see to it that these and other intriguing indies soon find their way to San Jose’s Camera 12, Campbell’s Camera 7 and the Los Gatos Cinema.

The Old Dark House: Renovated?

The Bates Motel and mansion newly restored in high-definition Blu-ray?

The concept elicits shudders that Alfred Hitchcock never intended. By digitally “enhancing” the 1960 “Psycho,” Universal has done far more than expose Janet Leigh‘s facial blemishes: It has compromised the film’s brilliantly evocative black-and-white cinematography.

High-def remains the bane of classic Hollywood fare, revealing much the director sought to hide, including toupee netting, makeup lines and beads of sweat.

Do we really need to count the feathers on the stuffed owl in Norman’s parlor, or see a sharper silhouette of Mrs. Bates in the upstairs window? It’s as if  a searchlight has now been trained on the darkest of Old Dark Houses.

Also, this 50th anniversary disc is so embedded with promotional materials and “Psycho 101” trivia that it takes forever to load and navigate.

“Mother,” a.k.a. Mrs. Bates, would be appalled.

Rooster and Mattie draw a bead on HFPA

We’ve never placed much stock in the Hollywood Foreign Press Association and their self-congratulatory, not-so-Golden Globes.

So it didn’t come as much of a surprise when the Coen brothers‘ ambitious TRUE GRIT was shut out of this year’s HFPA nominations. There has been speculation as to why: The foreign press don’t cotton to Westerns. The foreign press have never cared much for the Coens’ dark dark humor. The foreign press … but you get the idea.

The truth of the matter is the foreign press have gotten used to being wined and dined and lavished with junket trinkets, and the Coens don’t play that game. They do their jobs and let the work speak for itself. In my interviews with them I’ve found they don’t care much for the media in general, but they loathe sniveling, suck-up entertainment scribes in particular.

(And what can you say about an organization that nominated your FARGO in its musical-comedy category … and didn’t nominate your NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN for best picture?)

Anyway, this year’s HFPA had its petty revenge on the independent-spirited Joel and Ethan.

But like Rooster Cogburn galloping full-on at Ned Pepper and his boys, “True Grit” has come charging back.

The bold re-telling of Charles Portis’s novel did itself proud at this morning’s Oscar nominations, receiving 10 nods, including those for best picture, best director, best supporting actress, best adapted screenplay, and, for Jeff Bridges‘ blustery, one-eyed marshal, best actor.

Mattie Ross’s spunk and determination have paid off when it really mattered.

Alamar (Mexico)

01/22/2011 by Glenn Lovell

The best of 2010 (many of which are now available on DVD or pay-per-view):