Sure enough, the first week of December brings the first formal slew of awards nominations, today's coming from Film Independent's Spirit Awards. The Hollywood Reporter bring us the list of nominees, with dramas Ballast, Frozen River and Rachel Getting Married each tied for the most nominations (six a piece, including Best Feature; the other two nominees there are Wendy and Lucy and The Wrestler).

Now, these awards aren't necessarily Oscar precursors or anything -- some of these films are just too small -- but it's difficult to deny that the likes of Milk, The Visitor, The Wrestler, Rachel, River and documentary contender Man on Wire are all looking at the first of many nominations in the coming weeks, most of which I can safely say are or will be deserving. I can't speak for Ballast, but it's been earning attention in the indie world for months and months, so do as I do and keep an eye out for it.

The greatest assurance can only be taken once the Spirit Awards are awarded on February 21. See the full list of nominees after the jump.

Milk is a well-intentioned film, but it's also well-made, and it never confuses nobility of purpose with narrative direction. It's full of inspiration and aspiration, but at the same time, it never kids itself -- or us -- about the tricky, twisty ways of modern American urban politics. It's a sincere plea for equality that doesn't ignore the challenges of prejudice and fear. It celebrates past victories and speaks to current struggles; it mourns devastating losses and is still a hymn to hope. It commemorates a man and spotlights a movement; it avoids cliché feel-good moments but still wrings richness out of moments that feel good. It has a heart, and a brain; it's tender and loving while also being sexy and hot; it features a brilliant performance from Sean Penn but surrounds him with other talented actors doing superb work. Milk is adult and intelligent in ways many films are not, and it's rousing and enthralling in a way few films are. It's a minor miracle of sheer film making joy and determination, and one of the best American films of 2008.

Directed by Gus Van Sant (Elephant, My Own Private Idaho), Milk is radically conventional; it's also subtly, gracefully, innovative and sharp. Best of all, Milk shows us a man who may have been a martyr, but who was most assuredly not a saint -- and makes us respect his accomplishments all the more by showing us the public work and private deals it took to make them happen. Sean Penn stars as Harvey Milk, a New York white collar worker who, at 40, came out of the closet, moved to San Francisco in 1972 with his lover Scott Smith (James Franco) and opened a business and got active -- first as a community organizer, then as a political candidate and ultimately a San Francisco City Supervisor in 1977, the first openly gay elected official in California. Milk was killed in 1978, when his fellow Supervisor, Dan White (Josh Brolin) shot and killed San Francisco Mayor George Moscone and Milk in the wake of White's resignation. It's hard to imagine an audience member not knowing this going into Milk, and yet Van Sant wisely puts it up front, to contextualize Milk's work and to let the film -- and the audience -- commemorate a life instead of merely chronicling a death.

See below gallery for larger images of each

Above you will find the two For Your Consideration ads for The Dark Knight that have been running in Variety this week. One promotes Heath Ledger for Best Supporting Actor, while the other targets a Best Picture nomination for the film itself. With The Dark Knight approaching $1 billion at the box office, it'd be a stupid move on the Academy's part to not give this flick the credit it deserves. From a ratings standpoint, knowing The Dark Knight is up for a few big awards (including Best Picture) would probably bring in tons more viewers, and, well, from a normal human being standpoint, the movie is freaking awesome! Give it some love!

Of course, it's a comic book movie and we all know the serious adults who vote on Oscars don't take too kindly to them comic book kids stuff. Hopefully, though, they'll see what a terrific job Nolan did with his Batman follow-up and the unbelievable performance Ledger gave as Joker. Should Ledger find his way into a nomination, he'll most likely be up against folks like Philip Seymour Hoffman (Doubt), Josh Brolin (Milk), Ralph Fiennes (The Duchess) and Robert Downey Jr. (Tropic Thunder).

Check out larger versions of the above ads in the gallery below.



[via BoF]

There's a reason that us critics tend to hold certain films in excessive regard -- because after seeing hundreds and hundreds of them every year, to champion one or two or a dozen across those fifty-two weeks is a chance to bring attention to something that deserves it, something distinctly non-mediocre and perhaps unconventional.

Dear Zachary: a letter to a son about his father falls into that category. Erik praised it effusively from its Slamdance premiere and beyond; soon joining his ranks would be Monika; and it currently lingers second to only one on my own tentative top ten list for 2008. We get it. According to Rotten Tomatoes, 33 out of 34 critics get it. In fact, it seems like the only ones who don't get it just happen to make up the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences.

In a week littered with plenty of big-budget trailers piggy-backing on James Bond's undeniable popularity (Quantum of Solace just had the biggest opening day of any Bond film to date), the new one for Sam Mendes' domestic drama Revolutionary Road very nearly slipped through the cracks (thanks to Rob for passing it on, and Variety's Anne Thompson for premiering it).

This trailer plays more like a teaser than its predecessor, and yet it's a simple and short way to lure one into the suburban woes of stars Kate Winslet and Leonardo DiCaprio. The very slightest rumbles and mumbles of its worthiness as an awards contender this season are beginning to issue from the earliest guild screenings, and I suspect that the weeks to come will only bring more buzz before the film bows in limited release the day after Christmas -- the same strategy that Paramount Vantage employed last year with a little film they like to call There Will Be Blood. Now, if you'll excuse me, I should really get back to this book Eugene kept going on about...

The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, in their continued efforts to avoid awarding Oscars to deserving efforts in film scores, has apparently disqualified Hans Zimmer and James Newton Howard's work on The Dark Knight. According to Variety (by way of In Contention), the same stipulation as to how many composers are technically listed on the cue sheet similarly screwed over their Batman Begins score -- the stipulation being that listing multiple names helps to award royalties to music editors and designers as well.

I'd argue that the film -- which is bound to crack a billion bucks worldwide any day now, and likely to rack up considerable awards nominations regardless -- owes a great deal of its sustained visceral thrills to this rousing score, and in an ideal world, the December 9th release of the DVD would be enough for the Academy to whip around and shape up their bureaucratic brouhaha. To them, I simply ask this: why so serious?

First, the obligatory Slumdog Millionaire endorsement. I saw it in Telluride, for which I am now grateful, but at the time I cursed the fates. Why? Because I couldn't buy another ticket and go see it again then and there. It opens tomorrow, November 12th, in a bunch of cities, and will trickle on out from there. It's rousing, and wonderful, and I can pretty much guarantee you'll love it.

The feel-frickin'-awesome movie of the year was directed by Danny Boyle, whose Millions hinted at his capacity for big-hearted fairy tales, but who is known for darker material. His biggest hit until a couple of weeks from now is the 2003 zombie horror flick 28 Days Later. He gave up the reins of the sequel, 28 Weeks Later, to talented Spaniard Juan Carlos Fresnadillo (whose Intacto was unjustly ignored six years previous), who wound up upstaging him with what was -- to my mind -- a vastly superior film.

The latest had been that up-and-coming horror director Paul Andrew Williams would be stepping behind the camera for the upcoming 28 Months Later. But now Boyle himself has thrown a wrench into that plan. Though he refused to discuss his idea for the third film, he told a table full of journalists that he'd like to return and direct it himself. "I'd certainly like to... I feel the idea is quite a strong idea, and it could well involve directing it. Yeah, absolutely."

We'll see what happens after Slumdog earns Boyle his first Oscar nods. I actually have faith that he won't abandon genre films -- he's so dang good at them (though I think his best showcase in that respect is actually Sunshine). I still prefer Fresnadillo's take on the 28 franchise, but on the other hand Danny Boyle is my new hero. Mixed feelings.

The Italian films Il Divo and Gomorra hogged the spotlight at Saturday's announcement of the European Film Award nominations, with five nods apiece, including best picture. "But wait," you might be saying if you're not European. "Why do the European Film Awards matter to me? I'm not European!"

They matter because you love foreign films, that's why. OK, and also because the EFAs often presage the Academy Awards. Recent EFA best picture winners have included such Oscar-scented titles as The Lives of Others, Talk to Her, Amelie, and Dancer in the Dark. Gomorra -- which is apparently about skinny underwear models who shoot guns at the beach -- has been submitted as Italy's Oscar hopeful and now seems like a surefire nominee, thanks to its EFA attention. The other EFA best picture nominees are The Class (France's Oscar submission), Waltz with Bashir (Israel's submission), Happy-Go-Lucky (whose star, Sally Hawkins, has generated Oscar buzz), and The Orphanage (which was eligible for Oscar consideration last year).

In the director category, the EFA nominees are Laurent Cantet (The Class), Andreas Dresen (Cloud 9), Ari Folman (Waltz with Bashir), Matteo Garrone (Gomorra), Steve McQueen (Hunger), and Paolo Sorrentino (Il Divo). Also of note: Toni Servillo is named in the best actor category for two performances -- Il Divo and Gomorra. You'd think those were the only two films Italy made this year.

Most of the EFA-nominated films either have U.S. distribution lined up or are already playing here. Success at the awards, to be handed out in Copenhagen on Dec. 8, will increase their visibility in American theaters and may also help their chances at the Oscars. The complete list of nominations is here.

It's a common experience to read a book slated for a film adaptation and then approach the movie, if at all, with a trepidation bordering on fear. As an optimist who doesn't get too offended when his favorite stories get changed for a different medium, I generally try to minimize that reaction. Yet that is exactly how I feel about Stephen Daldry's imminent adaptation of Bernhard Schlink's The Reader. A large part of me is convinced that Schlink's lovely, challenging little novel – almost more of an essay than a novel, really – can't possibly survive Daldry's questionable prestige picture instincts. The book demands a small film, melancholy, withdrawn. Can we get that from one of the year's big Oscar hopefuls?

The logline IMDb plot summary [Ed.: corrected upon being informed that this is not the official studio "logline"] is already all wrong: "Nearly a decade after his affair with an older woman came to a mysterious end, law student Michael Burk is reunited with his former lover (Winslet) as she defends herself in a war-crime trial." No. I'm loath to give too much away, but "reunited" is not the right word. In fact, the lack of a bona fide reunion between the two is part of what makes the novel so interesting, and the reason for that lack of reunion is at the heart of the moral questions it grapples with.

Note: The following includes potential spoilers

When I first saw Rachel Getting Married in the middle of the Toronto maelstrom, I knew I'd have to see it again before I could write or speak about it coherently. I was sure that I liked it, but not how much -- I couldn't quite make heads or tails of the last third of the film, and having to rush off to another film prevented me from thinking about it. This week, I finally got my second viewing; I like it a lot. But what struck me the most this time around was Bill Irwin's astonishing turn as Paul Buckman, the tortured, loving father of the bride. Irwin has not gotten much love in the reviews, and that is a travesty. He gives the richest, most generous performance I've seen from anyone this year.

The IMDb informs me that Irwin, a veteran character actor, is a mainstay on Sesame Street; Wikipedia reveals that he's a clown by trade. This makes perfect sense, and indeed helps explain his complete humility in Rachel Getting Married. Remember the scene where Rosemarie DeWitt's Rachel, in the middle of an argument with Kym (Anne Hathaway), drops the bombshell that she's pregnant? Paul's reaction might be the film's most memorable moment -- he flips out, screaming and bunny-hopping over to his daughter (it's a testament to Jonathan Demme's brilliance that he puts this in the background of the shot); after things calm down a bit, he still looks like he is about to lovingly devour his family. The way he paws at his wife while randomly growling "Does anybody want a sandwich?!" is worth ten dollars all on its own.