Favorite Films

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Posnock Predictions

By Susan Thea Posnock

Note: I went 12/24 -- yikes!!!!


Now that my favorites are out of the
way, time for some last minute Oscar predictions.

I'll preface my picks by noting that I considered 2006 a rather tepid year in film. With the exceptions of Volver and The Departed, I don't have intense rooting interest tonight. At least not compared to the emotional investment (some would call
it "insanity") I had during The Lord of the Rings years.

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(Note: This post is currently missing!)

Poscar Winners

By Susan Thea Posnock

It's too late. No matter who wins the First Annual Poscars, the ballots for those other little awards, (hint: rhymes with Poscars), have been cast.

I planned to offer up my personal favorites of 2006 on Valentine's Day, but I was too busy trying to decide what to wear to the big event. And while it's true that the "big event" only entailed my sitting alone in front of my computer, you just never know. Perhaps ThinkFilm, in their infinite wisdom, planned to have Ryan Gosling personally deliver a screener of Half Nelson to my door. Or what if Joan Rivers decided to stop by and see what designer I was wearing? (For the record: Gap sweats.)



But enough preamble: no need to sit through three hours of bad production numbers and rambling speeches. In fact, I'll start with the "big one."

Continue reading here...

Oscars and omelets: A Conversation with Patrick Marber

By Susan Thea Posnock

One aspect of being a writer is to dream of immortality through words.

For a screenwriter, an Academy Award is the ultimate way to achieve this. But, as I discovered over a recent chat with Best Adapted Screenplay nominee Patrick Marber--the comedian-turned-playwright-turned-screen scribe of Notes on a Scandal--restaurant menus offer another way to grasp that “Holy Grail.”

Sitting in the lobby of Manhattan’s famed Algonquin Hotel, our conversation veered off on a tangent about one of its most notable regulars, Dorothy Parker.

“You can buy a Dorothy Parker burger here,” he pointed out. “In London there’s a hotel where there’s a Virginia Woolf burger. I’ve always thought that was hilarious.”

Throwing good taste to the wind I wondered aloud, “Do you dip it in water?”

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The First Annual "Poscars"

By Susan Thea Posnock



Yes, the Academy Awards are important, but I know that in secret [perhaps super-duper secret] what people in the film world really yearn for this time of year isn't the Oscar. It's the Poscar.

What? You've never heard of it? Well, okay, I did just make it up. But if Martin Scorsese is brutally denied another directing Oscar for The Departed, he will rest easy knowing this was the year he snagged the Poscar.

In coming up with these "prestigious" awards, I must give credit to my friend Nathaniel over at The Film Experience, whose brilliant (and recently completed) Film Bitch Awards provided inspiration.

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Big stars, Oscar campaigning and the Internet

A conversation with director Roger Michell

By Susan Thea Posnock



I met with director Roger Michell—who guided Peter O’Toole to his eighth Best Actor nomination in Venus—over lunch on a brisk afternoon last fall.

Before I could begin my interview in earnest, he noted the presence of failed presidential candidate, Senator John Kerry, at a nearby table.

"The Oscars are a bit like John Kerry sitting over there: vastly campaigned for," he said. "They're quite corrupt in that way. They're not this sort of simple meritocracy."

He would know. Michell, who was born in South Africa but now resides in England, got his start as a theater director (and still dips in those waters between films), but has been helming features for more than a decade.

His first effort was Persuasion in 1995. Not only did it kick-off the Jane Austen big screen movie-a-thon, but this beautifully understated film remains my favorite among the numerous adaptations of her works. Over the years Michell’s worked on a mix of star vehicles and smaller, more personal films. He's probably best known for 1999's Notting Hill, with superstars Julia Roberts and Hugh Grant.

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Indie Queen

We all have ways of working through trauma in our lives and using those trials to learn and grow. For Maggie Gyllenhaal, acting is a part of that process.

Like many New Yorkers and Americans, she struggled to come to grips with the tragedy of Sept. 11. That included a backlash when she made comments about the attacks she says were misinterpreted to sound as if she felt New York and America deserved to be attacked, a sentiment she calls inconceivable. (While doing press for the 9/11-themed film The Great New Wonderful in April 2005 she was quoted saying the United States was “responsible in some way” for the attacks.) Playing Allison Jimeno—whose husband Will was a Port Authority officer pulled alive from the rubble—in Oliver Stone’s World Trade Center helped her come to terms with the event and her own reaction to it.

Read the rest here.

Breaking Away

By Susan Thea Posnock



Hollywood loves comeback stories--real or fictional--and perhaps no actor fits the bill better this year than Jackie Earle Haley.

A child and teen star, he caught his first break at age five as the voice of Dennis the Menace in cartoons and Dairy Queen commercials. He went on to play pivotal roles in two classic 1970s flicks: The Bad News Bears as rebel slugger Kelly Leak and Breaking Away as Moocher, the diminutive friend with attitude, who famously (and literally) “punched in” a clock at work.

But like so many who've tasted that kind of success at an early age, Haley was unable to make a smooth transition into successful adult actor. Instead, he found himself relegated to the low-grade movie ghetto, then out of work and doing bit jobs that included limo driver to the stars and pizza delivery guy.
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Altman Tribute

By Susan Thea Posnock

When I met and interviewed Robert Altman just a few weeks ago for OscarWatch I didn't see a man who, like a character from his swansong A Prairie Home Companion, was about to get a visit from the angel of death. Instead I saw a vibrant, quick-witted, slightly cranky film genius.

At 81, there was no denying he still had it. In the last five years of his life he brought one great film, Gosford Park and two good ones, The Company and the aforementioned Prairie to the screen. He was right when he guaranteed me that he would never win an Oscar in competition, but it wasn't for lack of quality. He just ran out of time.

Continue reading here.

Chat with Altman from Oct. 31, 2006

By Susan Thea Posnock

Over the years I've had the opportunity to interview a number of interesting and (sometimes) famous people. As a result, I'm rarely intimidated by the prospect of a one-on-one, regardless of the person on the other end of the recorder. But faced with five minutes with legendary filmmaker Robert Altman, I felt the sort of jitters I used to get on the first day of school.

That's not only because Altman is famous, but he has an imposing air about him that's hard to penetrate. More importantly, he's a cinematic icon who has made his mark over decades, having helmed more than 30 features including MASH, McCabe & Mrs. Miller, Nashville and The Player. He's racked up numerous industry honors and has been nominated for eight Academy Awards (five for Best Director and three for Best Picture, the most recent ones for Gosford Park in 2002). And while he's never won in competition, he received an Honorary Academy Award last March.


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POSmeter: “Self” Actualization

By Susan Thea Posnock

Over at IMdb Pro (the paid subscription version of The Internet Movie Database) they have weekly MOVIEmeter and STARmeter ratings, nifty little charts that gage what movies, television shows or celebrities are "hot" based on IMdb user searches.

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Opposing Forces

By Susan Thea Posnock

Something strange has been happening to me lately. Mysterious forces are at work and I'm gripped with the kind of anxiety I haven't felt on a regular basis since college.

This feeling has been prompted by recent screenings of Half Nelson and Little Children. Rather than my typical "light and breezy" column, it seems only a properly researched term paper will suffice in dissecting these films.

That’s not a knock on either--in fact in many ways it’s praise. Returning to the student mindset raises questions and can be a thrilling exercise. At the same time, heady themes can either make a story soar, or drop like a lead balloon.

Half Nelson, (definitely not to be confused with 1985's short-lived Joe Pesci series of the same name), the independent feature from director/writer Ryan Fleck and producer/co-writer Anna Boden is arguably the more ambitious of the two because of its underlying philosophy. It's an unconventional classroom drama in which the "hero" is a white, crack-addicted teacher named Dan Dunne (Ryan Gosling), who uses dialectics to teach history to his mostly black students. The theory, from German philosopher Georg Hegel, says the clashing of opposing forces leads to change. The film demonstrates this simply through an arm wrestling match between Dan and one of his eighth-graders. He tells the kids how when one force overtakes the other (in this case he overcomes the strength of his student) it leads to a turning point. On a larger scale, dialectics can be applied to movements like Civil Rights or wars.

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Interview with Shareeka Epps

By Susan Thea Posnock



In an industry that's full to the brim with Disney Channel-groomed starlets, Half Nelson's talented newcomer Shareeka Epps stands out.

She was discovered in a Brooklyn classroom when filmmakers Ryan Fleck and Anna Boden were casting their short film Gowanus, Brooklyn. After that film's success-it won the short film award at Sundance in 2004-Fleck and Boden were able to shoot the full-length version. While actor Ryan Gosling took over the role of teacher Dan Dunne, Epps auditioned for and won the right to expand the pivotal role of Drey, the student who befriends her crack-addicted instructor.

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Bottled Cinema Bliss

I was having a bad day on Monday. While numerous factors can contribute to major blahs--bad hair, sickness, stress--the reason in this case was the 5th anniversary of 9/11.

As much as I tried to avoid the news it was everywhere--a random conspiracy theory t-shirt here, a memorial service there. I felt it just being in Manhattan. It was like my body had become a living and breathing part of the city and the massive hole at the bottom was inside of me--at least for a day.

Continue reading here.

Most likely to be snubbed

It's as inevitable as composer John Williams getting nominated for Best Original Score. Every year there's at least one film, one actor, one live action short (okay, maybe not) that famously gets the cold shoulder come Oscar time.

This "snubbery" takes on two forms: the critical darling that's nominated for everything but an Oscar, (i.e. Jim Carrey in Man on the Moon and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind); or the many-nominated snub (either shut out completely like The Color Purple, or fails to win the big one, as in the case of Saving Private Ryan and last year's favorite Brokeback Mountain).

Continue reading at OscarWatch

Kong Love

It is hard to grow up in America, or perhaps anywhere, without having the "beautiful princess" and "prince charming" fantasy ingrained in your mind well before the time you actually experience anything close to love.

I'm no exception. I was raised on the "Disney-fied" ideas of "someday my prince shall come" which morphed into other unrealistic notions of love everlasting such as the concept of a "soul mate." But it wasn't until recently that I took these ideas to the extreme. Yes, it's true: I'm in love with a 25-foot tall gorilla.

Don't scoff! I'm not the only one. Do you really think a vibrant, sensual and talented woman like Ann Darrow (as portrayed by Naomi Watts in Peter Jackson's 2005 update/tribute to the original King Kong) can really prefer a skinny, intellectual playwright?

While many see King Kong as an action/adventure film, for me it is a much more telling interpretation of a single gals' plight to find "Mr. Right." Bridget Jones Diary you say? Cute movie, but given the fact that Mark Darcy doesn't get shot down by planes while atop the Empire State Building, it is far from reality. (Just try imagining Colin Firth swatting at planes. I think not.)


Of course, I don't mean this literally. But like King Kong, Darcy is the image of the perfect man: Prince Charming of the modern age. Well, let me step back for a second. The thing about Mr. Darcy--the one created by Jane Austen--is that he's not perfect. He's a snob when Elizabeth meets him and too proud. But the fantasy is that a smart and interesting woman can transform him into the perfect man through love. Right.

I'd argue that King Kong is similar to Darcy, albeit with more hair. And perhaps more of a temper.But unlike Bridget Jones (and any number of rom-com fantasies) King Kong gets it right because in the end, the film recognizes that it is just a fantasy and beauty, Ann, or really any woman who has bought into the tale, must face bitter disappointment as the romantic figure of her dreams plunges to his death. It isn't just that Kong dies, it's that Ann--a figure of doom from the start, expressing how "nothing good ever lasts"--must give up the dream of her soul mate. Love isn't perfect and she'll have to settle for dull Jack Driscoll (a well-cast Adrien Brody, despite criticism to the contrary).


I think Kong had a huge impact on me because I finally saw how I'd been searching for him in the men I chose to fall for (no pun intended). In place of an inappropriately large hairy gorilla and tall landmark building, I'd chosen obstacles such as an entire country's distance, or emotional gaps that could not be bridged. I entered into these situations fully aware that they were not meant to be. Like Ann, I was resigned to this fact, but held on as long as I could.It could never work.

Beauty may have killed the beast, but it was reality that killed the romantic fantasy.

Movie Musings

While I'd planned to check out Miami Vice this past weekend, I didn't get a chance. I will see it, but probably more out of curiosity to see how it was shot (high-definition digital video) versus any real Oscar vibe. And yes, I was a fan of the show back when Don Johnson and Philip Michael Thomas donned pastel and passed on the socks. I even confess to copying the style myself (the horror, the horror)...luckily that was just a phase and didn't cause the same kind of long-term psychological impact I experienced via the mind-bending style morphing from black spandex, a la Olivia Newton-John in Grease to hippie beads and an uber-crush on Treat Williams in Hair in 1978 and 1979, respectively. My mother still has the evidence, but I will not be sharing it here.

In any case, moving on to much more serious matters, the movie that is truly on my mind right now is Oliver Stone's World Trade Center. It opens this week and has thus far gotten mixed (from excellent to lukewarm) reviews.

As some of you know, I live and work in Manhattan and I was here on Sept. 11, 2001. Very fortunately, I was not working near the WTC that day and even more thankfully, I did not lose any close friends or loved ones. However, the event had a profound impact on my life to the point that I couldn't even watch or read the regular news for about a year. I was truly traumatized and it took me a while to really get back to the new, post-9/ll "normal."

I have been drawn to the films that are starting to come out on the subject, like the acclaimed United 93 and now what sounds like a more sentimentalized account in WTC. It is an odd personal dilemma to want very much to see both films, yet to be fearful about their ability to transport me back in time. And there is no doubt in my mind that seeing either-regardless of the quality-will put me in a mood that I'm not sure I want to be in.

Just reading the reviews pulls me in that direction. I literally cannot get through one review of Stone's film without starting to tear up. However I know, as much as it may take me back to that day I must see these films. I'm just not sure I'm ready.

I did finally see Steven Spielberg's Oscar-nominated Munich. It feels like a pre-cursor to viewing these other films, especially given the last image on the screen. It was excellent, and further proof that Crash was the least worthy of last year's Best Picture contenders. Munich has its flaws, but overall it is a harrowing reflection on revenge and the cycle of violence. It is an even sadder commentary, given current events. In terms of acting, it further cements my love (lust) for Aussie Eric Bana. It was good to see him in a film that finally matched his talents.


Another recent screening was Wong Kar-Wai's 2046, his follow-up to the striking In the Mood for Love. Speaking of moods (which is really what this is all about, how films impact mood), I don't think I've seen a more visually haunting film in ages. It seeps under your skin and I don't think anybody conveys that kind of poetry today better than Wong. It was so beautiful that I fell into it, like a trance. The only other movie I can think of that (recently) had that kind of hypnotic pull on me was Jun Ichikawa's Tony Takitani, another tone poem for the patient film viewer. Both films use both their visual and musical landscapes to convey a sense of loneliness and desperation.
Which brings me back to the beginning... I think that right now I'm looking for movie experiences that are more authentic than what I'm guessing a pop culture dream like Miami Vice can provide. I read an interesting interview in the most recent issue of Film Comment with Richard Linklater, where he comments on the dream-like state that movies put us into.

Nathaniel at The Film Experience referred to this in a post about the sublime Woody Allen film The Purple Rose of Cairo. If you look at Mia Farrow's expression at the end of that film and recognize yourself, you know exactly what I'm talking about.

Of course, the problem with going into that dream-like state with films like United 93 and World Trade Center is that the world's they present aren't dreams, they're nightmares.

And unlike Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz, you can't wake up.

The 9 Steps to a Quirky Comedy: Little Miss Sunshine

Step 1: Cast of the moment. Bonus points for including precocious (but un-annoying) child star in the making. Double bonus points for the fact that said child star, Abigail Breslin was excellent in her first film, Signs. Triple bonus points for the fact that she co-stared in that film with this week’s crazy-man star Mel Gibson and it was directed by last week’s crazy-man writer/director, M. Night Shyamalan. (Night probably sent Mel flowers, given how Mr. Apsycholypto has drawn attention away from heated speculation over his own sanity.)

As if Breslin’s measured cuteness weren’t enough, she’s surrounded by always reliable Greg Kinnear as dad Richard; Alan Arkin as Grandpa; scalding hot Steve Carell as Uncle Frank; appropriately pissed-off Paul Dano as brother Dwayne; and Toni Collette as mom Sheryl (proving again that Aussies excel at American accents).

Step 2: Everybody must quirk.

Nowadays an important element of a quirky comedy is that there can’t just be one off-center character. They all have to be wacky. With that in mind, Kinnear does another amicable spin on his “lovable loser” persona. This time he’s obsessed with getting his “9-step” self-help program for success off the ground.

Arkin isn’t just a pervy grandpa; he’s a pervy, heroin-snorting grandpa.

Carell’s character is gay (which in a less interesting film would be the lazy route to quirkiness). Here he’s also suicidal and an expert on Proust.

Meanwhile Dano’s big brother has taken a vow of silence.

Breslin and Collette have the most “normal” characters, though I think the movie makes it pretty clear that just being in this family makes one a bit loopy.

Does all this quirkiness work? Surprisingly, yes. But I think that’s mainly due to the skill of the cast. In lesser hands this would feel like the mental ward in the Dudley Moore stinker Crazy People. At least nobody walks around in a blue robe and slippers. (Cinema shorthand for lovable nut.)

Step 3: Camp.

The title alone says it all. It’s hard to get campier (or creepier) than a beauty pageant for 8-year-olds.

Step 4: That lady from Donnie Darko. Okay, I know not every quirky indie hit includes actress Beth Grant (and the aforementioned cult hit was hardly a comedy) but I knew exactly what I was in for when DD’s uptight Sparkle Motion leader showed up as a pageant official. Unfortunately, I think she’s wasted here. I guess you can’t get any better than her Darko declaration: “Sometimes I doubt your commitment to Sparkle Motion.”

Step 5: Lowbrow comedy spun around for a highbrow crowd.

Was it just me or did anyone else expect Christie Brinkley to speed by in a Ferrari? This road movie owes a lot to National Lampoon’s Vacation.

Step 6: Winners are lame, losers rule.

Well okay, the lesson is really that winning is about trying… But lets face it, losers are more interesting and they certainly have more quirks.

Step 7: Dysfunction Junction.

Not only are the characters all quirky, they don’t like each other much.

Step 8: Dark subject matter.

That’s clear from the beginning with Frank’s failed suicide attempt. However, I don’t think a certain plot twist (which I won’t give away) really works. Yes, it makes for a nice punch line later in the film… but I think it takes the film down a notch and pushes it from quirky to ridiculous.


Step 9: Get up and dance!

In my book, nothing says quirky like a bunch of white folks grooving to Rick James.Will that groove play into Oscar season? I think Carell has the best shot because his character is just a little deeper. I’d love to see Collette recognized because she’s great in everything, but I think her fine performance will be obscured by the insanity around it.

*Originally published on Oscarwatch.com

Allen Analysis

There's an old joke. Uh, two elderly women are at a Catskills mountain resort, and one of 'em says, "Boy, the food at this place is really terrible." The other one says, "Yeah, I know, and such small portions." Well, that's essentially how I feel about life. Full of loneliness and misery and suffering and unhappiness, and it's all over much too quickly.
-Alvy Singer, Annie Hall

From the opening moments of Annie Hall, the film is funny, familiar and touching. The above quote, the first joke Woody Allen tells in his opening monologue, has always rung true for me. Probably now more than ever before.

The film is filled with the misery and disappointments of life and love: An old woman walking down the street informs Alvy (played by Allen) that "love fades"; Alvy explains at one point that there are two people in the world, the "horrible" and the "miserable," and be thankful if you're only miserable.

I identify with the character, down to little details. The first scene, of a childhood Alvy visiting a doctor with his exasperated mother, is like a page from my own childhood. Could it be a lot of children out there worried about the "expanding universe?" When Alvy asks, "What's the point?" I realize I often ask this same question myself. I think the film is about answering that question. Or, perhaps saying there doesn't need to be a real answer or a real point. It just is.

Annie Hall has had real influence in my life. A viewing of it a few years back was critical in my decision to end a bad relationship. It isn't that I needed to see it to realize things weren't working. But, seeing the romance between Alvy and Annie Hall gave me a sense of peace (and final resignation) over my own situation. To paraphrase the film, what I had on my hands was a dead shark.

The best films always make me see something a little bit clearer in my life and myself.

In Allen's most significant work, he goes beyond his self-obsession and strikes a chord with the viewer. I think Annie Hall is the peak of his career, at least in terms of the prototypical Allen film. By that I mean any film where he's the star, playing his nerdy neurotic self and relating to other intellectuals or pseudo-intellectuals-lovers, friends, acquaintances and strangers on the street.

Those strangers often provide a punch line, and some wisdom:

Alvy Singer: Here, you look like a very happy couple, um, are you?

Stranger: Yeah.

Alvy Singer: Yeah? So, so, how do you account for it?

Stranger: Uh, I'm very shallow and empty and I have no ideas and nothing interesting to say.

Stranger: And I'm exactly the same way.

Alvy Singer: I see! Wow! That's very interesting. So you've managed to work out something?

The first time I saw Annie Hall I was probably too young to comprehend what Allen was trying to get across. That the only truly happy people in this world are (perhaps) too empty to realize how complicated and difficult life (and relationships) can be.

It is an odd little scene, because Alvy is making a joke at the clueless couple's expense. But at the same time, he envies their ability to be happy and not worry and obsess over every little detail.

That said, it is very clear that Alvy is willing to endure the difficulties of life and relationships, that he wouldn't want the emptiness of the bland couple on the street. Allen's characters recognize the pain of life and in the end, they want MORE. Because when it comes down to it, the portions really are too small.

*This review originally ran on the web message board Moviola at ezboard.com.

A Scanner Darkly

Richard Linklater's adaptation of A Scanner Darkly is both an exhilarating and frustrating film experience. Exhilarating in that it is original, thought provoking and at times extremely funny; frustrating in that its muddled hallucinatory trip makes one feel a lot like the detective/junkie portrayed by the god of "whoa" himself, Keanu Reeves.

Perhaps that's the point and trying to comprehend each and every nuance of the Philip K. Dick novel-turned-film is futile. It isn't really about understanding; it's about feeling.

Of course, as with the film’s fictional Substance D, there are only so many hits one can take before your brain starts to split off into competing factions:

Left Brain: When is this going to end? What the hell just happened?

Right Brain: If you want to understand it try reading the book. Besides, this is interesting and visually stimulating. Look at all the pretty colors!

Left Brain: It’s too long!

Right Brain: An hour and forty minutes isn’t that long. You sat through Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest, which was essentially a two and a half hour trailer for the third Pirates film. And not a very good trailer.

Left Brain: Good point.Come to think of it, when I see the box office numbers for brainless summer entertainment I sometimes wonder if Hollywood executives aren’t already slipping moviegoers Substance D or the marketing equivalent. And this from someone who loved the first Pirates and appreciated it in large part because it wasn’t your typical heat wave blockbuster.

But I digress. Getting back to Scanner, there's enough to recommend it and hope that its highpoints—the trancelike live action turned animation, the performances, particularly train-wreck-actor Robert Downey Jr.—can get some attention during awards season.

Downey is a master of enlightened drug-fused locution, turning his reading of single words like “murdered” into a kind of poetry. Meanwhile, Woody Harrelson reminds the viewer what a deft comedian he can be, though his range remains in the realm of dumb brick to stoner, Larry Flynt notwithstanding. Then there’s Rory Cochrane, who is like some kind of junkie savant for Linklater. Back in Dazed and Confused he delivered many memorable lines, in particular one likening the dollar bill to marijuana. Here he doesn’t have a huge role, but a sequence in which he makes an important decision concerning a bottle of wine is one of my favorites. The moment is all about his character and doesn’t contribute to the overall story arc, yet it’s perfect.

And I guess that’s the crux of the matter. If I judged A Scanner Darkly as a whole, I’d call it a near miss. But its parts are worth a view. If Downey can get some traction and support, I think he’ll be remembered at the end of the year and into the Oscar season.

As for the rest, it’s such a hard movie to categorize. From what I’ve read it can’t qualify for animated feature—and besides, that tends to be where Oscar throws the kiddy choices. But if it can qualify, I think it should be considered.

To view or not to view...

Glancing over the list of Oscarwatch's first half winners it appears United 93 is the film of the first half. I’m taking a wait-and-see approach because frankly, I’m not sure I’m emotionally ready to see this film…I welcome input from those of you who have. Particularly New Yorkers who were here on Sept. 11, 2001.

Mad Mel…

Will Mel Gibson’s new film Apocalypto garner Oscar attention, or has Mel been popping one too many little red Substance D pills?

But where are the pastels?

I’m all set for Miami Vice but I was a bit concerned by the lack of neon colors in the trailer. Will it update and honor the series it’s based on? One would hope so given its Michael Mann’s baby all grown up. I understand that if you’re not making a parody of Don Johnson’s white blazer you have to update it… but I’m also wary of another slick cop film. Please don’t be Bad Boys 3.

Note: This post was first published at OscarWatch.com.