THE GENRE DIRECTOR

Brian Trenchard-Smith has directed 42 movies and TV series in various genres from martial arts to comedy to horror to action adventure. He is one of Quentin Tarantino’s favorite directors

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Quentin Tarantino: You Made Turkey Shoot!

INT. LONDON UNDERGROUND PLATFORM DAY

England 1983. Commuters stand in silent groups awaiting the next rattling arrival on the Piccadilly Line.

Work, consume, be silent, die - is etched on the faces of many. The Thatcher Years.

Only two men are having a conversation; one, a young proto movie geek, the other, a national newspaper film critic. Although he saw himself as a Cinema Critic.

MOVIE GEEK
Glad the mail strike is over.
CRITIC
So am I…

He was about to launch into a haughty rant about militant trade unions when his companion stepped away to look at a large movie poster on the curved wall opposite.

On the poster - in the style of Hunter With His Kill trophy photography - a tall muscular bald headed man carrying an MI6 stands with his foot on the corpse of a beautiful young woman while other hunters stand behind.

MOVIE GEEK
That’s the bloke from Mad Max. Roger Ward.
I want to see that.

The gleaming dome combines with the curvature of the paramilitary hunter’s moustache to conjure a diabolically evil face a leer coloring the edges of cruel resolve. If that was the brief to the poster artist at press kit time, he succeeded admirably.

( That poster art cannot be found, but the British DVD re-titled Blood Camp Thatcher uses a different shot. Not as effective but you get the idea.)

Emblazoned below was the title TURKEY SHOOT, with the admonitory ad line: NO FILM FOR CHICKENS.

CRITIC
They haven’t press shown it, so it’s obviously trash.
If I bother to catch it, I might give it a paragraph.
Looks vile and sadistic to me.
I just don’t understand people’s taste these days.

Vile, sadistic, and trashy, with the added bonus of Roger Ward, sounds pretty good to the movie geek.

INTERIOR. FILM CRITIC’S OFFICE DAY

With the end of the mail strike - small packages had not been delivered for 10 days - there was a mountain of correspondence on the Critic’s desk. Inside the final package was a small slender box about six inches long. The Critic did not glance at the covering letter, he wanted to get straight to The Gift. He opened the box and immediately his nostrils were assaulted by a foul pungent aroma.

There, on a bed of cotton wool, was a rotting turkey’s foot. The luckless appendage had set out on its adventure through the postal system some 11 days before and was now at the height of putrefaction.

The Critic grabs the covering letter. It is an invitation to the Press screening of Turkey Shoot, mailed on the day before the mail strike, arriving now on the day of the screening. If he leaves immediately, he will get there just in time. This insult to his dignity and stature must be addressed.

CUT TO: FORTIES-STYLE LAP DISSOLVE MONTAGE

The Critic watches the movie, scribbling furiously.

Nearby, other nasally-affronted critics note each sensational act.

Superimposed titles of some of their phrases glide past camera.

Like: “ cut in half by a bulldozer!”

“ riddled with arrows! “

And: “lesbian rape!’

Various angles of London Underground commuters reading newspapers intently.

Close up of the TURKEY SHOOT reviews excoriating the film.

The words “Senselessly violent” lift off the page, moving towards camera. As it does so, the word “senselessly” fades out, leaving only the word “ violent “ to dominate the frame.

The Reader takes this in, along with detailed examples of at least six depraved-fun sequences he and his mates would love to see.

EXTERIOR WARNER WEST END THEATRE 2 NIGHT.

The Critic is crossing Leicester Square. A light dusting of snow is falling. He sees there is a line round the block of the adjacent Theatre. It is the line for the movie TURKEY SHOOT.

*****

Its first week’s figures top the house record for a February opening. In a blizzard! With a helpful assist from British postal workers. Certainly those odor affronted critics sold a lot of tickets.

Perhaps box office was also influenced by the fact that the villain’s name is Thatcher, the sadistic commandant of the B.F. Skinner Re-Education and Behavior Modification Camp.

You know that Russian proverb? No good deed will go unpunished. It’s funny how things turn out.

Original concept: 1984 meets The Camp On Blood Island where they play The Most Dangerous Game. A genre cocktail. Fast paced total action and mayhem, with a little black humor, this time on a substantial budget.

Status in prep: A serious budget shortfall due to the Government changing its previous position on tax rebates for investors was causing the producers and I considerable difficulty as the shoot date approached.

I had to keep modifying the scale and number of set pieces to trim the original 44 day schedule to 28 x 10 hour days. Cut were the first 15 pages set in a corporate fascist city of the future where the heroes are captured in a series of chases. Next, a 4 page helicopter chase had to go, along with its pilot character to be played by Australian actor and TV personality Graham Kennedy, because terms could not be agreed. So I had to quickly distribute his function to other characters in the story. This all brought the script down by a quarter of its length. I made stuff up every shooting day to fill out the contracted running time. But all the action I came up with had to be achieved without incurring loadings for any stuntman. The prison camp had been built for 500 extras, but now we could only afford 75 on our biggest day. A range of challenges. How could I ensure an audience? I decided to increase the level of blood and black hearted laughs into a sort of Lucio Fulci high camp splatter movie. Blood is cheap.

Steve Railsback and Olivia Hussey stood up to the pressure remarkably well. Roger Ward contributes a Warden From Hell performance worthy of that category’s hall of fame. All the cast deserve praise. But Michael Craig is wonderful as the smoothly sadistic Thatcher. I love his delivery of the Re-Education Camp’s mantra: “ Freedom is Obediance. Obediance is Work. Work is Life.“ ( That’s the future that awaits us, folks, if we don’t come to our senses in November and put a Brain in the White House.)

One of my more hilarious memories was the day we cut Steve Rackman in half at the trouser belt level with a bulldozer. I wanted a shot of his bottom half, kneeling trapped against a tree, wriggling beneath the dozer blade. ( I know, I am a sick puppy.) We had the pants suspended by monofilament, but we were running very short on prosthetics. We had eaten sausages and steak for lunch; there were uncooked leftovers and lots of ketchup. Everyone pitched in to fill the Traveling Pants with a convincing set of innards, and squirt individually designed trails of tomato sauce. The things we do for our Art.

Needless to say, critics did not share my sense of humor. And to be honest, the film is far from perfect. But it allowed me to push some genre clichés to their outrageous extreme. All film makers find themselves in situations where the playing field tips and the goal posts shift. You just have to develop some elasticity and go with the flow, while still trying to preserve the core of your original vision. But ultimately, a good movie in these circumstances is a saleable movie.

TURKEY SHOOT broke box office records in some Australian drive-ins, scored a US theatrical release, albeit with MPAA cuts, and ultimately video audiences across the globe discovered it as a guilty pleasure. As a result of its cult following, Anchor Bay put out a re-mastered uncensored DVD which looks great. If you are curious, the extras provide some insight into a director hanging onto a runaway train. Some critics considered my career was over after TURKEY SHOOT. Luckily my next film was BMX BANDITS with Nicole Kidman. Audiences and critics seemed to click with that one.

But I certainly was not starting every producer/ executive interview with: “ Hi, I made Turkey Shoot ! “ (Escape 2000 in the US.) So, at the premiere of HBO’s Marilyn and Norma Jean, I met Quentin Tarantino. I gave my name and he said: “ You made Turkey Shoot ! ”

He went on to list all the things he liked about the film, including: “ I loved that scene where Roger Ward beats that girl to death on the parade ground while she tries to recite the dissident’s mea culpa.” Which he then recited verbatim! At the Sydney premiere of KILL BILL Volume 1, Quentin dedicated the screening to TURKEY SHOOT, much to the shock of the assembled glitterati. As he put it later: “ I like to stick a lighted weed up the ass of the snob.“

Quentin Tarantino is forgotten cinema’s Smithsonian. And I love a film maker whose idiosyncratic sense of wicked fun pulses from the screen.

So TURKEY SHOOT came full circle. A good B-Movie Deed, first punished, finally rewarded. I predict the same one day for GRINDHOUSE.

Goldman golden rules of Screenwriting

INT. CEO’s OFFICE DAY.

The head of the network affiliate sips tea while reviewing correspondence. His office is distinguished by its neatness. Everything is ship shape, befitting a retired naval officer. Which is why the board hired him. His name is Reg Fox. The intercom buzzes.

FOX
Yes…

SECRETARY
Bruce Gyngell of Channel 9 is calling.

 

FOX
Put him on.

What did his opposite number at a rival network, a charming fellow at industry functions - and worse, a CEO with higher ratings - have to say?

FOX
Hello Bruce, what can I do for you?

 

GYNGELl (V.O.)
Have you seen your Guy Adams ad in the Mirror today?

He reaches for the early editions of the two afternoon papers that were delivered with the tea.

FOX
Oh, no. Have we made a boo-boo? Is it glaring?

 

GYNGELL (V.O.)
Well, I guess you could say that..

Mr. Fox turns to the page where their weekly column Guy Adams Presents touts the hot shows of the week, all of course to be found on Channel 10, the new guy in town. The photo of Mr. Adams that sits in the top corner of the ad is in fact that of a suave male model, and the column has been written by several different women over the past year. The words “ paid announcement ” in very small print can be found by a diligent reader.

But what immediately stands out in the half page ad is its signature design: a column of seven paragraphs, the first letter of each being bold, black, and in much larger typeface.

At first glance nothing seems amiss. Then, as Mr. Fox’s eyes scroll quickly down the paragraphs, those embossed first letters stop being a vertical anagram, and unite into discernible words, which read: F U C K F O X.

CUT TO:

FLASHBACK SEQUENCE:

Mr. Fox is at his desk studying the proofs for the Guy Adams Presents ad that will appear a few days. Awaiting his approval is a slender woman of 33 with striking red hair, his publicity officer JENNY PHILLIPS, whose dress reflects a free spirit.

Mr. Fox crosses out the first word of the top paragraph and replaces it with another. Fine Trumpeter becomes Hot Trumpeter. He looks up at her.

FOX
It’s better. Really.

 

JENNY
If you say so.

CUT BACK TO:

A stunned Mr. Fox. The top paragraph reads Fine Trumpeter again.

INTERIOR TV STATION CORRIDOR DAY

Jenny Phillips rounds a corner and comes face to face with 20 year old YOUNG FILM EDITOR, whom she had invited into her bed a few times, though not for a while.

JENNY
There you are. Wanted to say goodbye.
Got to be gone in ten minutes.

 

YOUNG FILM EDITOR
You are demented, wonderfully demented!
Why did you do that?

 

JENNY
I got tired of him changing my copy every week.
I was going to leave anyway. Sick of the place.
Time for a change. See ya.

She hugs him, and is gone.

INTERIOR SENIOR EXECUTIVE’S OFFICE DAY

The senior executive, WINSTON FRECKER, stares at the page, the offending ad flashing like a hazard light. Not a good day for the channel, and not a good day to ask if his contract will be renewed when it expires in 6 weeks. He picks up the phone.

FRECKER
Get me John in the art department.

INT. CHANNEL 10 NEWSROOM DAY

A journalist BARRY makes an announcement to his colleagues as he displays an empty money bag and a rectangular sheet of white cardboard.

BARRY
This just came from upstairs. The
whole staff is expected to sign, and make a
donation to go towards the cost of the gift.
Doesn’t have to be more than a dollar.

The staff look at the placard. There is fancy embossed writing along the top with room below for the one hundred plus signatures of the staff. It reads “ The opinions expressed in the press are not necessarily those of the staff of this station .“

INTERIOR TV STATION EDITING ROOM DAY

The assembled editors stare at the sparsely filled money bag, and the placard which now has several columns of differing lengths, as new departments add their signatures.

YOUNG FILM EDITOR
So, let me get this straight. He’s going to
be given a cigarette lighter with his initials
engraved on it, so that every time he lights up,
he can be reminded of the time of he was
embarrassed in the press and amongst his peers.
“We want to rub balm on your wound, but
they were out of balm at the store, so we got salt
instead.” Right?
And what about…“ not necessarily ”?
Does it mean it is possible that some of the staff of this
station do actually think : “ you ought to get fucked “ ?
Like : “We want to make you feel better,
but in the interests of statistical accuracy,
Federal Law obliges us to acknowledge this possibility.
So please accept our humble symbol of
your humiliation.”

OLDER FILM EDITOR
That about covers it.

 

YOUNG FILM EDITOR
It’s ridiculous. We should just rip it up.

 

OLDER FILM EDITOR
You can if you like. I’m not going to get fired.

The Young Film Editor thinks for a moment,

YOUNG FILMEDITOR
Well, I know someone who would
definitely sign if she was here. ..

He takes a pen and writes “Jenny Phillips” at the top of the far left column of names.

OLDER FILM EDITOR
You’re mad!

 

YOUNG FILM EDITOR
True. It’s the Irish in me. But don’t worry.
You can start your own column over there.
I’ll just mess with this one… Naturally,
as a gesture of solidarity, I will be signing.

He writes at the bottom of the same column “ Jack T. Ripper. “

YOUNG FILM EDITOR
And I think Her Majesty the Queen would
want to weigh in on this issue too…

With a different colored pen, he adds “ Elizabeth Regina “ at the bottom of another column.

INTERIOR SENIOR EXECUTIVE’S OFFICE DAY

The Senior Executive and Art department Staff stare at the now fully signed placard. A couple of other names of questionable veracity in different handwriting have become evident, such as Henry T. Eighth. The presentation is scheduled to begin in five minutes,

FRECKER
I’ve got an idea.

INTERIOR TV STATION CANTEEN DAY

All the station staff that can leave their posts are gathered in the canteen. Mr. Fox has graciously accepted the cigarette lighter, thanked his staff and is using the momentum of their applause to propel himself from the room.

He passes the displayed placard. Strips of black masking tape cover signatures in four different places.

WAIT A MINUTE! THIS WRITER’S COMPLETELY OFF THE WALL!
THIS IS NOT BELIEVABLE. PEOPLE DON’T BEHAVE LIKE THIS.

But they did. In 1967, at Channel Ten in Sydney, Australia.

That edition of the afternoon paper sold out before the next delivery from which the ad had been pulled. Reporters sent copies to friends overseas. Perhaps there are collectors that still have them. Of course, the mists of time may have clouded my memory as to the precise newspaper. It might have been The Daily Telegraph not The Mirror. The name of the column may be wrong. But to the best of my recollection, it all happened as depicted above. The names have not been changed. I think you can guess who the young film editor was.

There are heroes and villains in this story, but are you sure which they are? Different directorial approaches, the instincts of different actors playing detective with the text, would produce widely differing audience allegiances. Life feeds us modern day story tellers of the tribe these gems every day.

I set myself the task this morning to recount this story as the first five pages of a screenplay, setting up the characters, establishing the milieu, while trying to obey one of the Goldman golden rules. Start the scene as close to its peak as possible. A truly insightful screen writer could continue the interaction between these characters in a wide variety of ways with the possible moral: Judge no one till you’ve walked in their loafers.
In the current climate of corporate downsizing, spare a thought for the plight of the executive trying to navigate the politics of a large bureaucracy, in a results-oriented business based on the ability to predict ever changing public taste.

It used to be different. Channel Ten in 1966-67 was frontier television, where you were encouraged to be a renaissance person. In those days there was less at stake and nobody knew any better. Just by volunteering I found myself a news film cutter, a field reporter when they were truly desperate, a promo maker, and a supporting player on the late Friday night spoof horror movie show: “The Awful Movie With Deadly Earnest”.

Played by the multi talented promo chief Ian Bannerman, Deadly Earnest would rise from his coffin like a pale male Vampira, and subsequently Elvira, Mistress of the Dark, to introduce, in strong satirical vein, a horror movie of the 50’s with any of the “good bits” cut out by the censor. In commercial breaks, live to air, he and his team spoofed commercials while maintaining a gothic context. I once played a Joe The Gadget Man character selling discounted intravenous feeding tubes to vampires. The senior station management was perhaps in bed at this hour and never saw some of the things we got up to.

However when I played Matt Black TV critic of The Daily Gutter, TV critic Matt White of The Daily Mirror complained. That was the end of my shot at Saturday Night Live. But Channel 10 was a glorious experience, as was the Channel Nine promo department, when Mr. Gyngell hired me away to launch new shows like Ironside and Star Trek. We worked all hours on flat rates because it was fun, fun, fun. So I hope that in these times fun is not dead in executive land.

Actors Behaving Badly

EXTERIOR. MOVIE SET - DAY

The first shot has been ready for some time. The UPM looks at the director. The director looks at the 1st AD.

DIRECTOR
Where the hell is he?

1st. AD
We’ve called him twice .

DIRECTOR
Send your best man.

INTERIOR. TRAILER - DAY

Fingers riff on guitar strings. Pan up to the face of the world’s number one martial arts movie star, presently indulging his softer side.

To protect the innocent as well as the guilty, we’ll call him BONE BREAKER, because it reflects his particular style. He is the reigning box-office champion in his field, dwarfing the grosses of his nearest competitors SPLEEN RUPTURE and SHEEP RAPIST. And if any of you with WWE ambitions covet those monikers, I cede them to you at no charge.

A polite knock on the door disturbs Bone Breaker’s concentration.

BONE BREAKER
What?!

EXTERIOR. TRAILER - DAY

The 2nd AD stands impassive outside the door to the trailer.

2nd AD
Mr. Breaker, they need you on the set.

BREAKER (V.O)
Why?

The 2nd AD thinks for a moment.

2nd AD
Well, because it’s a Bone Breaker movie…
and you’re… Bone Breaker…and there are
scenes to be shot today.

Pause.

BREAKER (V.O)
Go away.

2nd AD
I’m sorry, Sir, I can’t go away.
I have to bring you to the set.
Pause.

BREAKER (V.O)
If you don’t go away, I might have to
punch your lights out .

 

2nd AD
That would be interesting.

Pause.

BREAKER (V.O)
Why would that be… interesting?

2nd AD
Well, sir, then your lawyer and my lawyer
would sit down together and work out how
we would become partners. That would be
interesting.

Long pause.

Then the door to the trailer opens, and Bone Breaker steps out. He walks forward to the set as if the conversation never happened. For his next 2 movies he specifically requests that particular AD to work on the picture. Now that’s a Hollywood ending I like. Reward and Redemption.

Fellow blogger Brandie Posey’s - don’t be shy, Brandie , tell us how you really feel - vignette of Actor Behaving Badly prompted me to ruminate on the pressures in play upon people who are constantly in the public eye. Just one cell phone photo away from tabloid exploitation. Zero anonymity coupled with career induced introspection is hard on people. Once their image becomes a commodity, whom can they truly trust? Despite all the material benefits gained, the world is a more constrained and lonely place for them than it is for us faceless ones.

As for the Britney/Lohan Follies, what do you expect? When you give kids the key to the candy store, some of them are going to throw up before they‘re through. I wish them a speedy recovery.

The drive to be a performer in any field is both joy and curse. You seek the approval of an audience, then join a profession that is 90% rejection. So I have a lot of sympathy for actors, as well as admiration at their skills. The first US actor I ever directed was Robert Lansing. In The 4D Man, and every TV series for 40 years, Lansing was a great actor who could somehow make the creakiest expository dialogue sound natural and spontaneous. No mean skill. He was a generous man too. I was making a TV documentary on world movie trends. After the interview was over, I asked Mr. Lansing if he had any advice for me as a would-be drama director. He said: “ Just remember the actor is naked out there. He’s baring his soul. You have to make him feel comfortable doing that.” That’s the insight of a veteran at his craft. He spotlighted the challenge for directors in the hurly burly of each shooting day, to create a calm and nurturing ambiance on set so the cast can give their best. It takes a while to learn how to do that. It will certainly help when coaxing an actor out of the trailer.

The Departed of the Film Industry

EXTERIOR. HEAVEN - DAY

Heaven, the final frontier. A vast cloudscape of Eternal Sunshine with Spotless Minds everywhere, except in one small corner the size of greater Los Angeles. Here reside The Departed of the Film Industry. Departed by way of Death as opposed to Ageism.

Here The Creator allows creative people to continue their obsession with their craft on a back lot that stretches as far as The Eye can see. (Pang Brothers version please.)

SAINT PETER is doing his rounds, nodding encouragement, as a good agent should, at a heavenly choir rehearsing for American Idol, but inwardly knowing they are doomed to the acid lash of Simon Cowall’s tongue.

At the edge of the back lot, St. Peter arrives at an elaborate garden party set full of Angels rehearsing synchronized dance routines, their wings studded with sequins . Cameras are being positioned by the choreographer director BUSBY BERKELEY.

ST. PETER
Yo, Buzz, what’s happenin’ man?

BUSBY
I’m re-making The Gang’s All Here, ‘cept this
time we’re gonna do it in 3D.

 

ST. PETER
I love 3D. I’ll give you 1300 screens.

St. Peter looks round for his favorite musical comedy star, Carmen Miranda, the banana friendly Brazilian bombshell, whose hilarious national stereotype was not appreciated in her country, but when she died so young, Brazil declared a national day of mourning. St. Peter always had a soft spot for her fruit basket hats and the way she mangled the English language.

ST. PETER
Where’s Miss Tutti Fruiti?

BUSBY
She was a little depressed today, so I sent her
over to the Evangelicals.

St Peter glances at a high walled windowless enclosure, sitting on a nearby cumulo-nimbus. Signs posted nearby read: “ Silence in this vicinity. At All Times.”

ST. PETER
You realize they think they‘re the only ones here.

BUSBY
Oops!
Busby hurries off.

St. Peter moves through Vanity Epic Park, closes Heavens Gate behind him, and walks onto another section of the back lot, where LEWIS MILESTONE is laying miles of dolly track, as was his custom. More rail is being laid, connected, balanced, and wedged than in All Quiet On The Western Front, Edge of Darkness, A Walk In The Sun and Pork Chop Hill combined. In truth Mr. Milestone is only supervising. The actual hard labor is being done by a horde of white males in clothing of the 18th and 19th centuries. They are all plantation owners of that period, originally bound for the torments of Hell, but given a partial reprieve by the Creator, with His unique grasp of poetic justice, provided they consented to spend eternity in Purgatory ( the film industry) working as slaves. ( the grip and electric department.) They had been told they could move up the food chain ( to the Art Department?) if people of color in America ever achieved true social justice. But there had been precious little sign of that happening in the last 150 years. Though there is a rumor things might start to change in 2009.

St. Peter stares admiringly at the dolly track extending into the distance, like an old western railroad, surrounded by hammering laborers,

ST. PETER
Another war movie?

MILESTONE
This time it’s Iraq. I’ve got a lot
to say about that one.

 

ST. PETER
Make it now and it’ll tank at the box-office.

 

MILESTONE
How come?

 

SAINT PETER
US audiences have compassion overload.
Protest overload. They see the problem clearly
now, and there’s nothing they can do about it. You
don’t go to the multiplex to have your despair reinforced.

 

MILESTONE
So, even You Guys can’t make people
go see a good film about a compelling issue?

 

ST. PETER
It’s that Free Will thing again. We’re big on that
Up Here. But people will go to war themed movies
when it’s over and the picture makes them feel
that in some way, either militarily or morally,
they won. Which is bullshit anyhow, ‘cause
War solves nothing. Take the advice of an
old Fisherman. Wanna hook a big crowd?
Make a comedy. They could use a laugh,
out there In The Dark.

CUT! CUT! CUT! This is silly. Who wrote this shit?

I did.

So, what on earth has Carmen Miranda got to do with the recent crop of Iraq-themed movies?

Well, Carmen’s THE GANG’S ALL HERE (1943) - Busby Berkeley’s only Technicolor movie - is a War Bonds Movie. The last third of the movie takes place at a fundraiser a befuddled plutocrat stages in the back garden of his mansion. The closing credit exhorts the audience to purchase war bonds which are on sale in the foyer of this theatre.
Somehow I doubt if many bonds to fund the continuing quagmire in Iraq would have been sold in the multiplexes where the recent RAMBO played. ( Stallone staged the mayhem with great expertise, I may add.) I have made three modestly successful war movies. Perhaps the one with the largest following is THE SIEGE OF FIREBASE GLORIA, two stills of which are attached. The only political point I make in all three films is that wars are fought by brave young people on Both Sides.

Prompted by the aforementioned War Bonds plug, war was on my mind as I left Cinefile’s diversely programmed Silent Movie Theatre on Fairfax, where this revival screening of THE GANG’S ALL HERE took place. Kenneth Anger ( SCORPIO RISING, HOLLYWOOD BABYLON) introduced the movie. If you want to see Mr. Anger get Angry, ask him what he thinks of Rupert Murdoch. But the print was in excellent condition and the colors popped as Busby intended. So, walking to the car, I pondered on the disappointing box-office of quality films that were intended to awaken the national conscience, not just preach to The Choir. Meaning no disrespect to the others, these are the three that aroused me the most.

RENDITION made me hopping mad, in the way Z induced outrage in the audiences of 1968. Gavin Hood made a brave structural decision that took the story to a new level.

STOP LOSS explores its complex issues unafraid that it won’t please everybody in The Choir. Ryan Philippe reaches new levels in his craft, and Kimberley Pierce demonstrates she can direct action con huevos.

IN THE VALLEY OF ELAH, is meticulously structured, and devastating in its emotional effect. But Tommy Lee Jones, as the tightly wound and tormented father, whose life and core beliefs unravel through the story, gives a performance of such searing truthfulness that I believe Paul Haggis’s anti-war bonds movie will be playing in the Cinefile style revival houses in 50 years from now.

Of course by then they’ll be beaming movies directly into that chip they implant in our brain…