The Oregonian published a letter to the editor on Monday that I want to address. First, though, a warning: This letter contains references to towns such as “Happy Valley” and “Boring.” Those are the real names of these places, not sarcastic nicknames.

And now, the letter:

Every time I sit in traffic on Interstate 205 through Clackamas into Portland, my blood begins to boil. You see, construction work has begun to bring light rail to Clackamas Town Center. Precious land is being wasted on something that will never reduce congestion on I-205 (just look at the Interstate 84 corridor through Portland).

The urban growth boundary expansion into Happy Valley, Damascus and Boring will add a significant amount of growth to an area that is primarily serviced by I-205. All of these cars will end up on I-205, creating another traffic nightmare like we see on Interstate 5 every day.

Light rail will cost hundred of millions of dollars for approximately seven miles of track. With that kind of money, I-205 could easily be expanded to four lanes in each direction. This would be smarter growth and money well spent.

People will never give up the comfort and freedom of their cars in favor of public transportation, especially in a climate where it rains seven months a year.

ALAN GROSSO
Happy Valley

Continue reading…

Whichever one of you jokers ordered a Monday, here it is. The rest of us were enjoying Sunday just fine, thank you.

The new “Snide Remarks” is posted here. It will not be brief, and you will not enjoy it. The podcast version is forthcoming; I’m hoping the scratchy throat I have will clear up.

Meanwhile, as promised, I have reviews of the five movies that opened Friday that I didn’t already have reviews of. They are:

“The Last Mimzy” (YAY!)

“The Hills Have Eyes II” (BOO!)

“TMNT” (MEH!)

Pride” (DOUBLE MEH!)

“Shooter” (YAY, SORT OF!)

Continue reading…

It’s a lukewarm week for movies. Of the wide releases, we have two C+’s and a B-. At Rotten Tomatoes, B- is the cutoff for a “Fresh” rating, so I adopted that as my unofficial standard some years ago. But it’s tricky. A B- movie is “recommended,” but just barely, while a C+ is NOT recommended, but also just barely. Either way, B- or C+, we’re dealing with movies that are sort of OK but not particularly noteworthy. And you have plenty of those to choose from this weekend!

I saw “The Guardian” more than three weeks ago. Why they screened it so early, and subsequently had about six more screenings, I don’t know. Well, I do know. They were trying to build positive word-of-mouth. But why they thought this particular film was so worthy of it, THAT part I don’t know.

“School for Scoundrels,” meanwhile, is a Dimension product, which means I am not invited to screenings, as Paramount harassed Dimension into joining them in their boycott of me a couple months ago. However! The film screened in “sneak previews” last Saturday in about 1,500 theaters nationwide. Sneak previews are not promo screenings; they’re regular pay-for-a-ticket showings that are open to anyone. So I went to one of those and there WASN’T A DAMN THING PARAMOUNT COULD DO TO STOP ME. I’m hardcore like that. (And yes, of course I paid for a different movie and sneaked into “School for Scoundrels” so that Dimension wouldn’t get my money. I’m hardcore like that, too. The list of ways in which I am hardcore is lengthy.)

It had been a while since I’d been to one of these week-early “sneak preview” screenings. I recall going to a few back in Utah, either because I wanted to get the film out of the way without waiting for the press screening the following Monday or Tuesday, or because there wasn’t a press screening. The thing I remember about them, though, is that they were always packed. This one, for “School for Scoundrels,” had maybe 25 people in it. Was it because they put it on so many screens in so many cities, thus dispersing the audience? Did they not publicize the sneak previews well enough? Or were the ones in Utah always packed only because there was nothing else to do in Utah on a Saturday night?

The third major release this weekend is “Open Season,” an animated tale of whimsy featuring the voices of Martin Lawrence and Ashton Kutcher. I knew I didn’t like Martin Lawrence when I could see him; turns out I don’t care for him when it’s just his voice, either.

In limited release is a documentary called “The U.S. vs. John Lennon” (no review yet, sorry), detailing the Nixon administration’s paranoia with regard to the ex-Beatle and his activist/bad-influence wife Yoko Ono, what with their anti-war protesting and love-ins and so forth. Lots and lots of footage from the early 1970s is included, along with new interviews of some of the participants.

The film was screened Wednesday night at Portland’s Fox Tower (an excellent arthouse multiplex), and sitting in the very front row was a man who was VERY passionate about the film’s subject matter. To wit: Every time a John Lennon song played, the man would raise his arms above his head and sway them back and forth. When Lennon would say something especially profound, the man would make his fingers into peace signs. When Richard Nixon or G. Gordon Liddy or some such person would appear, the man would flip them off. Over time, his reactions to the film became vocal, too, with shouts of “RIGHT ON!” or “[EXPLETIVE] YOU!”

Now, once was funny. The audience chuckled at his exuberance. All the subsequent outbursts, however, were annoying. Near the end of the film, with Lennon’s immigration status in question and Nixon winning re-election, it was finally too much for the insane man. He stood up with a roar and stomped toward the exit, apparently unable to take any more. But he calmed down and returned to his seat, swearing at the person near him who had said, “Go ahead and use that exit.”

You may know that these advance screenings always have a representative on hand to make sure things go smoothly. Most of these reps are impressively efficient and resourceful and are a joy to have nearby when there’s a problem. The rep on duty this time, however, is not particularly fond of confrontations, and thus spent the entire film pretending not to notice that there was a lunatic shouting things. FINALLY, with five minutes to go, he went and tried to escort the man out of the theater. They got as far as the aisle, and then the man said, “No, I’ll see the end!” and went and sat on the floor in front of the theater’s second section. The rep made no effort to prevent this, and the man stayed.

Afterward, as I left the theater and walked down the street, I spied the lunatic just ahead of me. He was ranting a bit, to no one in particular. He looked to be in his mid-50s, scrawny and stringy-haired. As I drew closer, I realized he wasn’t crazy, necessarily: He was stoned. Stoned out of his mind. (My first guess, actually, would have been drunk, but he didn’t smell like alcohol at all.) He said, “Did you see the movie?” Seeing this as my opportunity to have one of the post-movie confrontations that I always fantasize about but rarely engage in, I said, “Yes. Why were you yelling the whole time?”

“Was I yelling the whole time?”

“Yes! You kept shouting stuff at the screen!”

“Yeah.”

“Why were you doing that? What makes you think that’s OK? It wasn’t a concert, or a rally. It was a movie theater. You’re supposed to be quiet in movie theaters.”

He stonedly explained how he was very interested in the subject. I said, “Maybe you shouldn’t get stoned before you go to the movies.” He replied, “But I ALWAYS get stoned before I go to the movies!”

Now the whole thing was just funny, not annoying, because he was SOOOOO high. It was hilarious. He asked if he could talk to me while we waited for the light rail, and I said no because I had to go across the street to use the ATM (which was true). As I walked away, he shouted, “FINE, THEN!!”

Don’t do drugs, kids. And especially don’t do drugs and then go to the movies.

One of the cool things about Portland (well, about any big city, really, but I’ll claim it for Portland) is that during any given week, there are usually several older films playing somewhere in town alongside the current blockbusters.

I see 10 such films playing this week in P-town, from “Beyond the Valley of the Dolls” at Portland State University’s campus theater (free admission for students!) to “All the President’s Men” at the Laurelhurst (my personal favorite among Portland’s non-chain theaters) to the silent Buster Keaton classic “The General” at the historic Hollywood.

This is great for people like me, who have seen everything in current release but still like to go to the movies sometimes. Home video makes all of these movies available whenever we want them, of course, but the big screen and the big sound system make it a whole different experience.

So I was delighted to see that “Scarface,” Brian De Palma’s infamously excessive tale of a Miami drug lord from 1983, was playing at the Clinton Street Theater this week. I had actually never seen this film, though I am familiar with its most famous line (”Say hello to my leetle friend!”). Yes, it’s on DVD. But a real theater will have a real sound system and a big screen, plus an audience of movie fans. This will be a great experience!

Now, I felt some compunction about going, knowing that the owner is a lunatic who once assaulted a fellow movie critic with a pie after getting some negative press from her. Some of us had vowed not to patronize the theater again. Since I’d never been there at all, though, I figured I could make an exception just this once.

Alas, it was a dreadful experience. The theater itself is fine — old and charming and all that — and the screen is big enough. But the sound system is atrocious, or at least it was Saturday night. I had to strain just to make out the dialogue because the sound was muddled and bass-y. It seemed to be turned down too low, but when audience members complained and management said they’d see what they could do, it got no better. I had to assume that was just how the sound system is there.

After an hour of barely enjoying the film because I couldn’t hear it very well, I left. I figured I could rent the DVD and see the rest of it, but the Hollywood Video near my house didn’t have it in stock. (Well, their computer said they did. But it wasn’t on the shelf.) So I can now say I’ve seen one-third of “Scarface,” and that I’ve been to the Clinton Street Theater enough to know it’s not worth going again. Unless someone can demonstrate that Saturday night was a fluke — maybe it was a fault in the film print itself, not the system — I see no reason to go back.

Sign No. 1: A preacher from some church is standing on the street corner in downtown Portland, ringing a bell and collecting money for some cause. Next to the bucket where you’re supposed to donate your change, there is a sign:

“HELPING PEOPLE HELP THEIR SELF”

Obviously, I want no part in an organization that would construct such a poorly grammared sign, so I declined to donate.

Sign No. 2: At the Rite-Aid drug store, the motto is as follows:

“For your life, Rite Aid’s there.”

Do you really want the word “AIDS” in your slogan? Yeah, it’s “Aid’s,” not “AIDS,” but still. I’m just sayin’.

The Laurelhurst Theatre in Portland plays second-run films and usually has an old classic playing for a week at a time, too. The other night as I approached two of the Laurelhurst’s cinemas on opposite sides of the same hallway, I saw these two choices, like signposts at a fork in the road:

IT’S A WONDERFUL LIFE

A HISTORY OF VIOLENCE

I felt like I was choosing my destiny! (So is it bad that I chose “A History of Violence”?)

On the same day, I saw the following people in downtown Portland:

- A man with a hook for a hand. He was not a pirate, as you might suspect. He was dressed in ordinary business attire, with a suit coat and everything. But he had a hook for a hand. If I were a businessman in need of a new hand, I would consider getting a ballpoint pen rather than a hook. That would be useful.

- A man with no hands. He seemed to have been born without them, rather than having lost them through carelessness or misadventure, and the interesting thing is that he was smoking a cigarette. I sort of admire that. I know that if I didn’t have any hands, I would try to find FEWER activities that required hands, not more. So I respect this guy for taking the opposite approach: “No hands? Bah! I’ll do everything a handed person can do, and more!”

So men without hands, I salute you! With my foot!

I saw a pirate yesterday in downtown Portland. He walked past me while I was waiting for the MAX. He had a bandana on his head, hoop earrings, and an eyepatch. He did not have a parrot or a wooden leg or a hook for a hand, nor did I see him blow anyone down or shiver anyone’s timbers, so maybe he is just a pirate-in-training. But still! It was pretty exciting to see a pirate. I never saw them in SLC, what with Utah being a landlocked state.

I learned a terrible thing tonight. I was chatting with Don, who is the studio rep for many of the press/promo screenings here in Portland. He’s there to make sure the screening goes smoothly, and to jot down audience comments as people file out of the theater afterward. (That last part is pointless, since everyone loves everything if they saw it for free.)

Even without the comment-writing-down afterward, he still has to stay for the whole movie, in case there’s a problem. Like last night, during “Red Eye,” a fight broke out between two audience members, a man and a woman. An actual, honest-to-goodness fistfight, with yelling and screaming and everything, right there in the aisle. Luckily, there was a studio rep on hand to get security personnel immediately. If there’d been no rep, you just know we’d all have ignored the movie and watched the fight until it had run its due course.

(By the way, if you live in Portland you probably will not be surprised to learn that the above-mentioned fistfight occurred at the Lloyd Center.)

Anyway, some movies have multiple advance screenings, to build more word-of-mouth. For example, tonight we were seeing “Four Brothers,” and it was the third time for Don. Luckily, he thinks it’s a good movie. He had to sit through “Stealth” FOUR TIMES, and that was a bad movie. And I said, “Wow, and I thought my job sucked sometimes. At least I only have to see these things once!”

And that’s when he told me: Remember “Are We There Yet?,” starring Ice Cube and two evil children? Don had to see it ELEVEN TIMES. ELEVEN!! I think that may be a violation of the Geneva Convention. I wept for Don when he told me that, and for the parts of his soul that were destroyed.

A movie theater in Portland is quoting me in their ads for a movie I didn’t like. But it’s OK! first, some background.

The age-old question for people promoting bad movies: How do you find critics’ quotes that don’t sound negative?

There are quite a few critics known as “quote whores” who will say basically whatever you want them to just because they like being quoted. Perhaps they think greater name recognition will mean greater career advancement. Or maybe they actually like every movie they see, like my friend Rob, who I think just enjoys the fact that he’s watching recorded images projected against a screen in the dark, regardless of the quality of those images. (I kid Rob. Rob knows I love him, even more than he loves every single movie he sees.)

But sometimes the quote whores aren’t available. If a film is too new, or too small, then maybe the quote whores haven’t seen it. That’s usually when I get quoted.

My first big one was for “My First Mister” (2001), a very pleasant Albert Brooks film. I saw it at Sundance and posted a review. When it was released in theaters later that year, my review was one of only a few in existence, since only a handful of critics actually review everything they see at Sundance. So the marketers had almost no choice but to quote me — which they did, in a full-page ad that ran in the Sunday New York Times.

Fortunately, I actually liked “My First Mister” and therefore didn’t mind being quoted. (I do think it’s amusing how, if you went by movie ads, you’d think film critics ended every sentence with an exclamation point.) That wasn’t the case with “The Singles Ward” (2002), a Mormon comedy that was heavy on the Mormon, light on the comedy. Those guys, local Utah boys, ran ads with quotes from me and two other Utah critics, all pulled from negative reviews and cobbled together using ellipses (…). They claimed it was meant as a joke, but it was a joke only they got. You can read about the whole thing here.

The next really bad Mormon film to come along was “The Work and the Story” (2003), a mockumentary about Mormon filmmaking. I said it was terrible, but had one scene that was “nearly genius.” In the ads, they quoted me as saying, “nearly genius!”

When I raised a fuss about this, I got an e-mail from some kid trying to tell me that filmmakers do this all the time, taking words out of context to make it look like a critic said the opposite of what he actually said. I countered with this argument: No, they don’t. Yes, filmmakers pull positive words from negative reviews — but NOT to suggest the critic liked a movie he didn’t like. They’ll pull a “So-and-so gives a good performance” from “So-and-so gives a good performance in an otherwise bad movie” — but that’s honest praise for So-and-so, and so it’s fair to use it. I’m talking about giving a false impression of the critic’s opinion of the movie OVERALL, and that simply isn’t done by professionals. And on the rare occasions it does happen, the critics usually complain and the offending ad gets dropped.

Here’s how to do it right: Portland’s Cinema 21, an arthouse up there in the Pacific Northwest, is showing “Girls Will be Girls,” a campy comedy that I gave a D+. As with “My First Mister,” this was a Sundance film for which not many reviews have been written. Cinema 21 wanted to use quotes in its promotional materials, so what to do?

They did it exactly right. They quoted me as saying, “The cartoon-colorful sets are a visual treat, and match the film’s attitude.” That’s what I actually said (OK, I said “match WELL the film’s attitude”), and it’s not taken dreadfully out of context.

There, “Singles Ward” and “Work and the Story” guys. That’s how you use negative reviews to your advantage. You find something positive the critic actually said. If he didn’t say anything positive at all, not one word, then maybe next time you shouldn’t make such a crappy film. Have you considered that?