MY LOVE of movies is well docu-mented, but what most people don't realize about me is that my real delusion finds me as the star of a television show.
It wasn't the best of times, and it wasn't the worst of times. In the final analysis, the 2000-2001 television season was just kind of there.
There was no gargantuan, narcissistic video screen spanning the stage. There was no 100-foot orange swizzle stick, nor did they appear from within a giant lemon-shaped disco mirror ball.
I'm only looking forward to Sunday night's Oscar telecast for one reason: Julia Roberts. Why?
It may be called "The Mexican," but Gore Verbinski's quirky caper is an entirely American affair - a studio product that has "Made in Hollywood" stamped all over it. See, "Mexican" is one of those bulletproof movies.
Some second helpings just aren't as rich as the first. But that doesn't mean they aren't still very good.
I vow to stay strong. I will not give in. I will remain loyal. With words as strong as these, you would expect me to talk about something really important, right?
The term "transcendent" is perhaps the ultimate compliment that can be paid to a work of art, but it's one that risks overuse.
I confess - I'm one of those supposedly "good" students who managed to squeak through high school without ever having read "The Odyssey" or even "Ulysses," James Joyce's more mystifying retelling of the classic. Luckily, I don't need to have that background in order to enjoy "O Brother, Where Art Thou?" The latest release from the Coen brothers (writer-director Joel and writer-producer Ethan) claims in its credits to be an adaptation of Homer's epic.
Chuck Noland is an all-American average Joe of the movie moment. His age we can't quite pinpoint: too old to still be enjoying his salad days, and yet too young to be past the prime of his life.
