Star Without Makeup

It’s been forever since I pulled together a playlist, so here it is and it’s super random. It’s called Bye Felicia because it’s my last day at my job. Enjoy!

I remember this night, I was there, it was the Altered Zones party for CMJ, I can’t believe it was four years ago. Yikes.

2014 has been a mixed bag, so here's a smattering of nonsense songs that I'm pretty into. The playlist is called #overit because I'm ready for a new year. Here's the link and tracklist:

http://www.mediafire.com/download/bi4upg1bpmagad6/#overit.zip

Tracklist:

My second outing at NYFF was Maps to the Stars, the David Cronenberg Hollywood satire (?) that had previously played at Cannes and Toronto, nabbing star Julianne Moore the Best Actress prize at the former.

Because the film had already made the festival rounds (and received wildly divisive reviews at both), it didn't garner the same level of anticipation or star wattage. That said, Cronenberg was on hand to introduce the film and Moore -- radiant, peerlessly classy -- came out to do a wave.

The film is a delirious mess, and that's fine by me. It covers a few  industry stories -- a Bieber-esque child star, his self-help guru dad, a fading, tabloid-ready actress, etc. The narrative threads all interlock in a fairly contrived way (when a Carrie Fisher cameo holds the entire thing together you know you're on tenuous ground), but that doesn't detract from the sharp humor and entertaining absurdity. 

The performances are uniformly great -- I could have watched a whole film about Olivia Williams' steely yet damaged stage mom and Mia Wasikowska expands upon the creepy loner part she did in Stoker.

I was lucky to spend my weekend in and out of Alice Tully Hall quite a bit, taking in more of the New York Film Festival than I've been able to in years past. Within the fall festival landscape, it hits somewhere between Telluride (highly curated) and Toronto (a launching platform for would-be awards contenders). As is often the case, this year's lineup borrows heavily from film that have already debuted at Cannes (the Dardennes' Two Days, One Night; Mike Leigh's Mr. Turner) and also throws in a few highly anticipated fall titles (David Fincher's Gone Girl, PT Anderson's Inherent Vice).   

The former opened the festival at a packed, buzzy screening Friday night. Ed Norton's hair is taller than he is and Elizabeth Vargas seemed to be on the wagon and glowing. I also spotted Bennett Miller, who will show Foxcatcher later in the festival (very much looking forward to that one).

Given the book's popularity and creative team involved, the anticipation was palpable and luckily the film more than delivers. It's easily the most satisfying adult thriller in ages, a film akin to Fatal Attraction and Body Heat. It's faithful to its source material (enlisting author Gillian Flynn to write the screenplay was a classy move that pays off), and yet creates and maintains a tone and persona all it's own. Tiptoeing on the line between creepy suspense and mordant black humor, it's scary and cynical, like something Hitchcock would have delivered. I would talk about the plot but to do so would risk taking away from the pleasure of watching everything unfold.

Fincher's trademark precision is on great display, and his inspired, off-center casting decisions all pay off. Ben Affleck does defeated manhood/potential homicidal maniac effortlessly, and Rosamund Pike's eerie, controlled work will make her a huge star. In smaller parts Carrie Coon (having a good year with this and the Leftovers) is funny and affecting as Affleck's sister and Kim Dickens is bold and believable as the lead detective.