"126"

Top-ten lists of holiday films abound right about now, but what about picking the top three Christmas movies ever made? Certainly there's plenty to choose from. Christmas movies are almost a genre unto themselves: between live-action and animated features, there are literally hundreds of titles out there. Inevitably, some are pretty bad, others amusingly cheesy.

What happens after an actor or actress wins an Academy Award?   The assumption is that the performer’s career skyrockets. Offers come pouring in. The thespian’s price tag certainly rises. What had been the usual “on-and-off” career of the struggling working actor suddenly gets a lot more hectic; members of the paparazzi who may not have known him or her from Adam (or Eve) are suddenly camped out on their doorstep.  This is what often occurs when one of these statuettes ends up in your hands. But not always. 

Peter Sellers was more than just funny; he was an astonishingly versatile actor. Even if you removed the bumbling, beloved Inspector Clouseau from his resume, he still had a remarkable list of roles to his credit, from the devious Clare Quilty in "Lolita" (1962), to his Oscar nominated turn as Chance in "Being There" (1979), to a variety of bullfighters, concert pianists, and nutty psychiatrists in-between. But Sellers, who would've turned 89 today, actually passed on the role of Leo Bloom in Mel Brooks's "The Producers" (1967). Brooks has gone on record saying that the role was his for the taking, and it’s never been explained why he didn't take the part. Little-known fact: Sellers would play an important and unexpected role in that movie's success. Brooks had approached Sellers to play the neurotic Bloom as early as 1964, when Sellers, The Beatles, and all things British seemed to dominate the entertainment landscape. How popular was Sellers that year? Well, he was the first man to appear on the cover of Playboy — how's that? According to Brooks, Sellers agreed to play the role but was never heard from again. That was Sellers — whimsical, difficult, and often erratic.

There’s an extra frisson of excitement to be found in what I call “launch pad” movies. This is not necessarily a movie star’s first film, but rather the one that propels him or her to that exalted status. In these special outings, you can feel a certain electricity coming off the screen; it's as if the performer is announcing in a subliminal stage whisper: “I’ve arrived!”  Here are twenty key launch pad vehicles for some of my favorite stars, spanning eighty years of movie history.   

With the gradual passing of opening movie credits, we also lost a vital element that distinguishes many so-called “classic” movies: the original music score, including a heroic, memorable opening theme. What’s the last film you remember that had a score you could hum while walking home from the theater — a piece of music you knew you'd always remember and associate with the film?

As director Richard Linklater’s "Boyhood" accumulates critics’ raves and commandeers (deservedly) tons of media attention, it seems like some equal-opportunity cinematic praise is in order.  So, let’s review some of the best “girlhood” movies of recent times.    One of the great joys of watching a quintessential girlhood movie is getting to see a young unknown actress—like Michelle Rodriguez in "Girlfight," Jennifer Lawrence in "Winter’s Bone," or Quvenzhané Wallis in "Beasts of the Southern Wild"—strut her stuff in a way that announces, “I’m going to be a force to be reckoned with in Hollywood.”