My Weekend Crush

My love for Olympic athletes is well documented. The passion, dedication and sheer sweat it takes to make it to the highest level of athletic achievement is beyond awe inspiring. The Olympics are the only time I eagerly tune in to watch skiing, bobsledding, heck, even curling has its moments. Of course, for years I obsessed over figure skating. Back in 1992 when Kristi Yamaguchi doubled her triple salchow in her free skate, I nearly ate the throw pillow I was holding – I was that nervous for her. But this crush isn’t about the competition, oddly enough. It’s not about nail biting, or team rooting or podium standing. It’s about the one time in the Olympics when everyone is a winner, simply by being there.

The opening ceremonies have always been one of my favorite spectacles. If you weren’t blown away (and possibly a little frightened) by the near-mechanical precision displayed in the Beijing Games, then we weren’t watching the same program. But besides being a way for each country to show off, the ceremony is a celebration of hard work. Each athlete walks in having fulfilled a life’s dream. Each is an equal, each the best. No one is first, second or third. No one is a loser. Instead they’re all just together, honoring mutual dedication, excellence and achievement. I swear, each time the athletes start to walk in, I get a little choked up. Yes, I cry at the Olympics – every. single. time.

So bring on the light show, Vancouver, and show us what you’ve got, Canada. For one night, as the Olympic flame springs to life and the blazing cauldron watches over the city, everyone is a champion. Congratulations, Olympians. Happy weekend, all.

p.s. Just in case you think I’ve gone soft, I am currently accepting hottie Winter Olympic athlete suggestions for future use. I’ll near all the help I can get because it’s a lot harder to gauge under all those winter togs. So help a sister out, ladies. Sing us out, Sarah.

My Sharona

Of all the soft spots in my ’90s heart, one of the softest, warmest and most sarcastic is reserved for Janeane Garofalo. She was always the girl in the room most likely to make you laugh, feel dumb and drop your jaw with her unparalleled honesty. The woman will say what’s on her mind, period. She has never said anything simply to make herself popular. Back before George W. Bush bashing was cool (or even safe), she bashed with the biggest stick she could find. But the thing is, history has a way of being unkind to women with big opinions.

So since her days of biting reality, the comic has felt reality bite back and her work history has been up and down. She made a splash (though an almost unrecognizable one, thanks to her French accent) voicing Colette in “Ratatouille” in 2007. And then she spent a season on “24,”fighting fictional evildoers along with Jack “But Torture is my Middle Name” Bauer. Oh, and she voiced the fuzzy, orange hunger monster for those Weight Watchers ads. Counter-intuitive? Perhaps. Pragmatic? Entirely. A gal’s got to, well, eat.

And so here is Janeane, talking to NY magazine about her career at age 45. And once again the funny, smart, sarcastic pragmatist is in full effect.

On why she is in Nora and Delia Ephron’s play, “Love, Loss, and What I Wore”:

Uh, they asked me. Which I was shocked by, and thrilled, and I wanted to do a play, and also, I wanted a job. Because, uh, as a lot of people know, unemployment is depressing.

On being in a play about clothing:

I am not a person that is particularly tethered to fashion, which I think is obvious to anyone who’s seen me. I don’t have a love of shoes. I don’t care about labels….The only thing I actually do have a tethering to is Spanx. I’m committed to them, I love them, and I wear them every goddamn day. Summer, winter, fall. I’ve got them on now

On finding work in your 40s:

It’s been hard in entertainment as a 45-year-old woman to find jobs. They get fewer and far between if you’re older, unless you’re one of the few lucky ones who work constantly, like Meryl Streep. Now, having said that, I’m not comparing myself to Meryl Streep. She’s a national treasure. But, I think most women as they age would tell you that it’s harder and harder to find work.

On Botox:

You know, I’ve had Botox…. Yeah, I’ve had Botox here [between eyebrows], smoker’s wrinkles. It didn’t work on the crow’s feet. It just didn’t take….I do it twice a year. So I’m not going to be one of those people that’s like, “Oh, isn’t it awful. You see no movement.” Yes, I do do that and, you know, whatevs. I do it and, I don’t know, sometimes it’s looked awful. Sometimes it looks finee….But I will continue to do it, and if there’s ever a process that somebody invents where there’s a laser-resurfacing in an office visit with no downtime, I’ll fucking do it. I will, I will do it. Pardon my swearing.

On weight loss:

No, I didn’t say actresses don’t need to lose weight. Obviously, they shouldn’t have to. I still stand behind that. They shouldn’t have to, but I sold out. Total sellout, lost weight. Quitting drinking does contribute to that because apparently I was drinking about 22 pounds of vodka. But yeah, I fucking sold out. That is absolutely a fact. I was heavier and it really gets you almost nowhere, you realize quickly. I mean, I got very lucky in the nineties. Very lucky. But I was usually cast as a person wherein they’re so unattractive, that it defines them. And you get sick of it after a while, and then you realize that it’s just easier. And you don’t even have to be really heavy to be characterized as an overweight actor. So yeah, I sold out, lost weight.

On doing “24”:

And in regards to me being liberal: Yeah, I’m a proud liberal, but “24” is a show where I’m not playing myself. If I was in a movie where I played an assassin, it would not mean that I was an assassin or advocating assassination. There were almost no right-wingers on “24” except for the show’s creator [Joel Surnow]. But nobody’s playing themselves, you know? And the show wasn’t about right-wingers, it just had a right-wing tilt.

On what she would love to do next:

I’d love to be on “30 Rock.” I’d be willing to be craft service on “30 Rock.” I’d love to do a Wes Anderson film. I would love to be in a Noah Baumbach film [or a] Kathryn Bigelow film. Anything. I don’t know. It sounds so cloying and begging, but anything good. It doesn’t matter who it’s by, or whatever it is, it’s just nice to have (a) a job, and (b) a part you feel really creatively fulfilled by. Oh, I also love the show “Medium.” And then there are a ton of British shows I love. I love BBC and IFC. My dream would be to be on a show that shoots in New York, because I live here, and then I could walk to work.

Oh my God, Tina Fey: CALL JANEANE!

So does it make me sad that Janeane gets Botox? Not really. I’m by no means a fan of paralyzing parts of one’s face with botulism. But we all do what we have to work and feel happy in our own skin. And that’s something else I learned in the ’90s. Idealism and angst are great, but they sure don’t put supper on the table. Now, seriously, Tina, get on the phone.

Don’t be mine

Now I know that just as you’re not supposed to judge a book by its cover, it’s unfair to judge a movie by its trailer. But fairness is apparently now the trademarked domain of Fox News (at least that’s what the notes I scribbled on my palm say), so let’s judge away. Here’s the thing, “Valentine’s Day” looks awful. Like that Valentine’s Day candy that comes in the enormous, glossy, heart-shaped box awful. It’s sweet, it’s shiny, it’s expensive but inside it’s filled with nothing but those awful strawberry creams that make you gag after two bites. Harsh? I’ve mentioned before that I’m not the biggest fan of Valentine’s Day, haven’t I?

I’m very rarely a fan of the Americanized version of anything British. They have the better accents and the ability to be charming while stuttering. They have high tea, we have Ho-Hos. So every time the sunny, star-filled trailer for “Valentine’s Day” plays my heart cringes. Look, I know “Love Actually.” “Love Actually” is one of my favorite movies. “Valentine’s Day,” you’re no “Love Actually.”

Case in point:

Love Actually

Valentine’s Day

Yeah, no comparison.

There are downgrades and then there are downgrades. Going from Colin Firth to Ashton Kutcher is the latter. Not that I have anything personally against the, what, 600 big-name movie stars in “Valentine’s Day.” Anne Hathaway, lovely. Jennifer Garner, so girl next doory you’d think she actually lived next door. Jessica Biel, you’ve seen her in a tank top, right? It’s the forced combination in a movie by Garry Marshall (a man who wields romance like a club), that makes me uncomfortable. I mean, did you hear they’ve already working on a sequel called “New Year’s Eve?” Welcome to Love, The Brand. No, thank you.

Also, “Valentine’s Day” purposely de-gays the gay couple (that’d be Bradley Cooper and Eric Dane) in the trailer. So, you know, BOO!

What made “Love Actually” so universally heartwarming was its all-too-human elements. It never felt calculated or corporatized. It never featured a couple with the same first name, where they weren’t also of the same sex. But it did have Emma Thompson. Any film with Emma Thompson will always and forever win out over any film that doesn’t. Period. Laugh that big, loud, trademark laugh of yours all you want, Julia Roberts. You know it’s true.

I guess what I’m trying to say is, enjoy your big, gooey-centered Hollywood extravaganza if you must. Which, inevitably, will be followed by “New Year’s Eve,” “Thanksgiving Dinner,” “Fourth of July” and “Secretary’s Day.” But know that I’ll be at home rewatching “Love Actually” and swooning all over again. Love is all around, you just need to know where to look.

Politics is Portia

Watching someone come fully into herself, especially in the public eye, is a rare and wonderful thing. The first time I saw Portia de Rossi was 17 years ago in “Sirens.” Known by the prurient as The Movie Where Elle Macpherson Gets Naked, it was actually a strange, sexy little meditation on exploration and desire. It was also Portia’s first film. Now, while others probably remember the naked supermodel, I remember Portia. That scene where all the woman slowly caress naïve, eager Giddy is, well, did I mention I remembered Portia?

When I next saw her she was the tightly wound Nelle Porter with her ice-smooth bun and icier personality. Yes, I totally watched “Ally McBeal,” the show that some claim nailed the coffin of feminism shut with the spike of its stiletto. I wouldn’t go that far – I mean, who doesn’t like a creepy dancing animated baby? But “A Room of One’s Own” it certainly wasn’t.

Then came those tabloid photos of her necking in an alley with Ringo Starr’s daughter. Then came “Arrested Development.” And then, then came Ellen. Now, I don’t agree with the idea that to be truly happy we must pull a “Jerry Maguire” and find The One who completes us. But I do believe that love can open your heart to what is most important in life.

And, make no mistake, these days Portia knows exactly what is most important in life. In a great cover story for The Advocate, she talks extensively about what matters most to her.

“Maybe by sharing my life, I can make people more aware of how important gay marriage is.” Is that more important to her than acting? “Of course,” she answers immediately. “Actors come and go. Characters come and go. TV shows come and go. While acting is entertaining, for me personally, it’s a little empty….My career is only a part of my life, and it’s certainly not what I think I was born to do.”

So what was she born to do?

“Ever since Ellen and I got together, I feel like I’ve been given an opportunity to actually—God, this sounds corny…” She rolls her eyes at herself, fidgets, and then forges ahead. “Well, I feel like my life can actually kind of stand for something. And I don’t mean that in a self-aggrandizing way, like, ‘Look at me, I can make a difference.’ But I feel like, maybe I get why I’m here.”

Corny? No. Amazing? Yes.

Portia talks about everything: her relationship with Ellen, the fight for gay marriage, her battle with anorexia, her coming out and even her poor vegan cooking skills. Also, did you know she is writing a book? Good God, at this point if you told me she could also juggle while riding a unicycle I wouldn’t be surprised one bit.

So why does she think coming out in Hollywood so important?

“People say, ‘There are lots of openly gay actors.’ And I’m like, who? If everybody I knew that was gay and not being open about it came out, it would make a huge difference to people coming up as young actors in Hollywood. Huge. To producers, to people in casting. I’m sure that when I was with Ellen a lot of people wondered if I could play a straight role convincingly. By having the opportunity, other people can go, ‘Oh, that’s OK. It didn’t kill that show. That was believable.’”

And why is the fight for gay marriage so important?

“I think it’s up to us to save marriage. Up to gay people across the country, seeing as though we’re fighting for it so vehemently. This whole thing has been a wave of excitement and hope, and then it gently falls back into despair. And then it picks us up again. Unfortunately, we’re the ones who have to suffer this—this humiliation, really. There’s kind of a dignity that’s been stripped from us. Gay people are the ones who have to suffer through it—but without it, it won’t change.”

Finally, why was appearing on Oprah so important?

“Being on Oprah was a very surreal moment—to go from being so closeted and so afraid to talk about my sexuality to sitting with my wife, talking about my wedding and how much I love her. To look out at that audience and see most of the audience crying—Oprah was crying! Life can take so many twists and turns. You can’t ever count yourself out. Even if you’re really afraid at some point, you can’t think that there’s no room for you to grow and do something good with your life.”

Like I was saying, a rare and wonderful thing.

p.s. Everyone watch “Better Off Ted.” Portia will make you snort at minimum once per episode. Guaranteed.

(Belated) Naked Lady Monday

Oh, kittens. My apologies for falling asleep last night before finishing my post. I blame all the cheese food products I consumed during my Super Bowl football game eating extravaganza. But, I want to make my absence this morning up to you. How, you ask? Anne Hathaway, I say. Not only is the delightful, pale-skinned, doe-eyed actress endlessly likable, she is steadfastly gay-friendly. In fact, in her cover story for the new British GQ magazine, she reveals that her entire family converted from the Catholic to the Episcopalian church after her brother came out in protest of the former’s anti-gay stance.

She told the magazine:

“The whole family converted to Episcopalianism after my elder brother came out. Why should I support an organization that has a limited view of my beloved brother?”

See, endlessly likable. Also, the lingerie doesn’t hurt.

So, am I forgiven?

My Weekend Crush

In the 82-year history of the Academy Award only four – yes, four – women have been nominated for best director. None – yes, none – have ever won. This is a shameful legacy for an institution that at its core should exalt excellence at its most unadulterated, unbiased form. Artistry knows no gender. But this, of course, is not what has happened. Over the years the awards have been subject to politics and popularity. The winners have been a seemingly endless parade of white men. In 2005, Ang Lee became the first, and so far only, minority to take home the prestigious honor. (That, as if we need reminding, was the year “Crash” stole the award from “Brokeback Mountain.” Boo! Hiss!) This year Lee Daniels becomes only the second black filmmaker to be nominated for best director. Clearly, Oscar has a long way to go.

But this year, in a race with two historic nominees, it’s the woman who just might finally break into the exclusive boys clubs. Make no mistake, “Precious” is a wonderful film filled with rich portrayals and strong stories. But when it comes to sheer visceral energy and grand passionate filmmaking, no movie matched “The Hurt Locker” this year. Kathryn Bigelow is, quite simply, a great director. Not a great female director, though she is one. But just an amazing auteur. Throughout her career she has made intense, heart-pounding fare that defies expectations. Women make movies about falling in love, the conventional wisdom goes. Well, sure, some do. Others make movies about sky-diving, Presidential mask-wearing surfers who rob banks on the side. Look, there’s nothing wrong with making movies about love, but that’s clearly not all we can do.

So this year, when they open the envelope and say “And the Oscar goes to…” let them finally right 82 years of folly by saying “Kathryn Bigelow.” Show the boys how it’s done, Kathryn. Happy weekend, all.

Get Real

Speak of the devil. Mention “The L Word” and up pops Mama Chaiken.

In two quotes to emmys.com, Ilene Chaiken reminds us why her creations both enthrall and enrage. Talking with the magazine about her new spin-off reality series, “The Real L Word: Los Angeles,” which is expected to launch this summer. The show has been cast and already begun filming in all the gayest of nooks and crannies around LA.

So why did IFC want to create TRLW: LA?

“When The L Word ended, I received so much feedback from fans who wanted more and, really, the show could have gone on and on. Doing the reality show is a logical continuation of the storytelling and a fresh way to circle back to it seamlessly without taking a year off.”

And why will it succeed?

“There’s nothing else on television that tells these stories and continues to shatter stereotypes. We can delve into issues that we could only scratch the surface on in the scripted show.”

So, essentially, she thinks she has us by the short and curlies.

Now, call me dense (many have), but it seems to me you can delve into any and all issues on a scripted show because it is just that, scripted. You write it, you control what issues you talk about, you decide what issues get addressed. You, you, you. But on reality shows, the real people dictate what issues get touched upon, what issues they talk about, what issues they address. They, they, they.

There is no limit to creativity. There are limits to reality. They’re called facts. Crazy, I know.

As for the reality series as a “logical continuation of the storytelling,” I also beg to differ. But at least it’s more logical than sending Alice to prison.

Oh, Ilene. The thing is you know that we’re so starved for representation that anything larger than a crumb will feel like cake. But I fail to see how going to a genre known for hot tub hookups and barroom brawls will “shatter stereotypes.” Also, I claim 11 minutes in the “How Long Will it Take for a Cast Member to Get Naked” pool.

Though, that’s the only kind of pool I’d suggest in connection to the show. If Ilene puts a real one in it’s going to be an awfully short season, what with all the unexplained drownings and all.

Red delicious

Look, I know things probably don’t end well here. While I haven’t seen the French film “Nathalie” on which “Chloe” is based, I’m aware that the various couplings the characters find themselves entwined in are not – shall we say – ideal. But at this exact moment, none of that matters. Nor does the 25 year age difference between Amanda Seyfried and Julianne Moore. Nor do the probably less than good intentions behind these actions. Nope, mostly what matters is that these new production stills of Amanda and Julianne together are gorgeous. Delicious. Magnificent. Open thesaurus, point to “drool.”

The longer “The L Word” is off the air, the more I realize how much I crave lesbian content. Any kind of content. Even the kind of content where a long-term lesbian couple faces mid-life troubles when one partner begins an affair with a man content. This makes me feel a little sad for me. But mostly, it makes me sad for our entertainment landscape. I mean, is “The Real L Word” really all we have to look forward to on the horizon? Deep sigh. Man, I should really start watching “Skins.” Or just move to Britain.

Tank Top Tuesday: Oscar Edition

Say hello to the only time of the year that a tiny bald man gets me hot and bothered. Yes, it’s Oscar time. This morning the nominations were released and many deserving films (and a few undeserving ones) were honored as the year’s best. An unprecedented 10 movies are up for Best Picture. Though, we all know it’s a horse race between the giant blue Smurfs of “Avatar” and the explosive soldiers of “The Hurt Locker.” But enough about that, how about those ladies? All of the actresses have proven their talent through their marvelous performance this year. And, just as important, they all look fantastic in a tank top (or darn close to tank tops). What? Just because the Academy Awards are prestigious doesn’t mean I can’t be shallow. Happy Tuesday, you magnificent Oscar nominees, you.

BEST ACTRESS

Sandra Bullock, “The Blind Side”Helen Mirren, “The Last Station”Carey Muligan, “An Education”

Gaborey Sibide, “Precious”Meryl Streep, “Julie & Julia”


BEST SUPPORTING ACTRESS

Penelope Cruz, “Nine”Vera Farmiga , “Up in the Air”

Maggie Gyllenhaal, “Crazy Heart”Anna Kendrick, “Up in the Air”Mo’Nique, “Precious”And, lest we forget, Best DirectorKathryn Bigelow, “The Hurt Locker”

Kick those boys’ asses, Kathryn.

They brought back the world

The thing about Joss Whedon is that in his heart he is a romantic with a stubborn apocalyptic streak. He likes to tear things apart to see if they can be put back together again. Lovers. Sunnydale. Civilization. The “Dollhouse” finale Friday night was classic Joss filled with tragedy, redemption, sacrifice and love. People died in a flash, no lingering just gone. But in the end, she saved the world (but just this once).

Everyone involved with “Dollhouse” should be proud of what they’ve created – grand, complex and at times messy television that was never afraid of big ideas. It’s stunning to think how far the show came in just two short seasons. From what sexy mission can we send Eliza on this week to the end of the world as we know it. It wasn’t always seamless and at times it was like watching “The Secret Diary of a Brainwashed Call Girl.” But those of us who trusted in Joss where richly rewarded.

“Epitaph Two: Return” was a brilliant leap of faith with the viewers. If you hadn’t seen the first season DVD bonus episode “Epitaph One,” you’d be as lost as the dumbshows wandering the streets. But Joss & Co. knew we’d happily jump with them. With a ride this good, we had no choice. Still, it’s hard to think of what we’ll never get to see because of the show’s abbreviated run. (Like, when did Alpha turn good? Why did Priya and Tony split? How exactly did the tech bring about the apocalypse?) But in a way, not having time focused the show down to its most essential, urgent stories.

And, you’ve got to hand it to Joss, he slipped in a lesbian for us ladies after all. Sure, it came in the very last episode ever. But anyone who makes Felicia Day gay is genius. For those who missed the references, Felica’s character Meg tells Zone that “the little Asian’s kind of cute.” And that “little Asian” happens to be a girl.

(p.s. Here’s the cute little Asian in question, played by “Dollhouse” writer Maurissa Tancharoen.)

Though, in hindsight, we should have know. I mean, it was so obvious. Two words: Cargo pants.

Later, Meg goes to the cute little Asian’s room while they’re both convalescing. And for her part, cutie was majorly enamored with Echo and her abilities, so I think Meg might have a shot. Dammit, Fox. Look what you missed out on by canceling this show: hot lesbian hookups. Idiots.

I guess in the end I’m just happy to have been able to watch a show that, while never perfect, was always bold, brave and brimming with strong, smart and sexy women. Even if it was only for a little while.

My Weekend Crush

I would like Betty White to live forever. I really don’t think it’s too much to ask. At 88, she seems more vibrant, sassy and hilarious than a considerable number of people half – or even a third – of her age. Betty is a constant reminder that there is no age limit on talent. All you need to write your ticket is to be smart and funny and love what you do enough to keep trying. When Betty’s career accomplishments were listed during her Lifetime Achievement Award presentation at the SAG awards last weekend, they seemed to span the history of television. We all know about her amazing work on the “The Golden Girls” and “The Mary Tyler Moore Show.” But she had not one, not two but three shows call “The Betty White Show,” and since the 50s she has guested on so many shows it boggles the mind. But that she has appeared is one thing, that she made an impression is another. Her saucy spirit and ribald rhetoric is instantly recognizable. And that, surely, will live forever. Happy weekend, all.

Gender Tilda Thursday

Oh Tilda, Tilda. Now, I recognize that I (and probably a lot of other like-minded folks) still have lingering problems with Tilda’s support of the Free Polanski petition. Disappointed just starts to scratch the surface. Still as much as the art is not the artist, I can’t help but be drawn to Tilda Swinton. She is just so terribly delicious. I’m so viscerally attracted to her, it’s involuntary. That face, that skin, that hair – sweet merciful Zeus, that hair. She defies even the simplest convention in an industry built on the deification of standardized perfection. And, I’m not even kidding, I’d kill to see her play Conan O’Brien in “Night Shift 2: Sometimes Chins Come Back.” (An offer which she replied to with an enthusiastic “Yes, yes, yes, absolutely.”) She is certainly tall and thin enough to play him. Though, I’m convinced that she fills out a suit better.

Male, female. Straight, holding hands with a woman in slack and a tie with her hands in her pockets (we all know what that means, ladies).

Tilda defies definition while blazing her own. But seriously, how do I get that hair?

A movie of our own

Yesterday, I asked my fellow tweetbians to help me brainstorm successful lesbian movies for Melissa over at the wonderful Women & Hollywood blog. And, thanks to our collective lesbo hive mind I both helped and bummed myself out. Wanna take a gander at the biggest lesbo box office hits? Brace yourself, you might be a little surprised.

The Top Ten

1. Fried Green Tomatoes ($82.4 million)
2. The Hours ($41.7 million)
3. Monster ($34.5 million)
4. Frida ($25.9 million)
5. Chasing Amy ($12 million)
6. Boys Don’t Cry ($11.5 million)
7. Mulholland Drive ($11.2 million)
8. Kissing Jessica Stein ($7m)
9. The Hunger ($6 million)
10. Personal Best ($5.7 million)

Um, wow. Now, granted many of these aren’t exclusively or even explicitly lesbian films (and, yes, “Boys Don’t Cry” is actually trans, but I’m going big umbrella here). In fact, I think “Monster” is the first film with a full-ahead lesbian lead, and she happens to be a serial killer. So, yeah, fantastic. In fact, I was sure “Bound” would be in at least the top 5. But it’s No. 11, taking in only $3.8 million domestically.

And, if you really want to get depressed consider that “Paul Blart: Mall Cop” made $146.3 million. Yeah, that many more people lined up to watch Kevin James on a Segway than Gina Gershon and Jennifer Tilly on each other.

We are a stupid, stupid country.

But what is really says is how far we still have to go as lesbians and bisexual women in finding our place in mainstream cinema. I mean, we’ve all seen the movies. But the rest of the world, not so much. And we have yet to have our “Brokeback Moutain.” Out great, marquee, acclaimed film that brings even grandma and grandpa in Idaho out to the cineplex to find out if those two nice cowgirls can make it work.

Still, hope springs eternal. Each year I hope against hope for the elusive one. The one great lesbian film to rule them all. A movie where our heroines aren’t killers or suicidal or actually straight or vampires. This year, I’m pinning my hopes on “The Kids Are All Right.”

Described as a “scenes-from-a-lesbian-marriage comedy” from veteran filmmaker Lisa Cholodenko (“High Art,” “Laurel Canyon”) debuted at Sundance this week and has already received glowing reviews and heated interest from distributors. And it has stars with name we recognize, with Oscar nominations even. Julianne Moore, Annette Bening, Mark Ruffalo and up-and-comer Mia Wasikowska (Alice in Tim Burton’s new take on Wonderland).

Julianne and Annette play the married (well, if they live in Massachusetts, Vermont, New Hampshire, Connecticut and Iowa married) couple “hitting one of those slippery, middle-age danger zones.” Ruffalo’s character happens to be the biological father of the couple’s children, and it seems some flirting with Julianne’s character. But the Salon reviewer calls the film “ranks with the most compelling portraits of an American marriage, regardless of sexuality, in film history.”

Like I was saying, the one. Fingers crossed. Now who wants to go halfsies on popcorn with me?