Writer/director/producer Morgan Spurlock, who became known to the world at large with his 2004 doc Super Size Me (in which we learn that eating greasy fast food and giant sodas every day just might make you fat) is busy these days expanding the waistline of his distribution label, Morgan Spurlock Presents. Variety reports that Spurlock is working with Hart Sharp Video, and has acquired three new films, two of which have planned theatrical releases.

Indie Spirit nominee Chalk is one of the acquisitions; the mockumentary about a group of high school teachers won the narrative feature award at the Austin Film Festival earlier this year. Jette Kernion reviewed the film during the AFF; she liked the film, but wondered if she found all the in-jokes about teaching and copying machine politics funnier because she saw it at a screening packed with teachers. Spurlock has also picked up tsunami doc Third Wave, about a group of idealistic volunteers who travel to South Asia after the tsunami to help rebuild a village. The third film, Class Act, a documentary about the importance of arts funding in public schools, focuses on Miami Beach drama teacher Jay W. Jensen, was exec produced by Spurlock, whose prodco provided finishing funds for the film. It is scheduled for home video distribution.

Spurlock's label previously acquired The Future of Food, about genetically engineered food, and Czech Dream, a doc about mass marketing. It was supposedly controversial in Czechoslovakia, but the official website is in Czech, natch, so I can't figure out exactly why, other than some folks felt misled or betrayed (hey, join the line forming behind Borat if you want to complain about that, folks). Spurlock plans to release six to eight socially relevant films per year on his label.

Personally, I think it's cool that Spurlock is supporting films that he feels are socially important, documentary or otherwise. Do you have an interest in any of Spurlock's new acquisitions?

SPOILER ALERT: If you've never read Bridge to Terabithia, and you don't want to know anything about it before seeing the movie, stop reading. Now. Then drive to the nearest bookstore, buy a copy, and read it. Laugh. Cry. Lather, rinse, repeat.

Bridge to Terabithia, Katherine Paterson's classic novel about two kids who form an unlikely friendship, is one of my favorite books ever, so when I heard a new movie was in the works earlier this year, I was filled with both excitement and trepidation. On the one hand, I just introduced my nine-year-old daughter to the book over the summer, and I knew she'd be excited about the film. On the other hand, though, what if "they" screwed it up? I know, I know, it's just a movie, right? I shouldn't get so worked up. But seriously, this book was one of the literary bedrocks of my childhood; I read my first copy to pieces, and have read it countless times since. I still cry every time.

Happy Feet, as we all know, has so far done quite well at the box office, holding the top spot two weeks in a row and crossing the $100 million mark in only 10 days. By pretty much any measure, the film is a financial success. Parents are certainly lining up at the box office to take their tykes to see the penguin flick -- a no-brainer of a choice in a weekend of otherwise lame family fare like the dreadful Deck the Halls -- but are they happy once they've seen it?

I've been fascinated by the comments people are leaving on my review of Happy Feet; rarely do we get so many comments on a review of any film, much less a kiddie flick. I was even more surprised to see how many parents were in agreement with me that, with its sexual overtones and environmental heavy-handedness, the film is inappropriately marketed to young children. So here are my questions to all you parents out there who took your kids to see Happy Feet (and there must be a lot of you, judging from that $100 million in box office receipts, so don't be shy): After seeing Happy Feet with your kids, were you happy? Did you feel the film was appropriately marketed to young children? And what ages are the kids you took to see the film?

Personally, I think the box office results are misleading. I think a lot a people took their kids to see Happy Feet based on it being marketed so heavily to kids as a simple, cute, little story about a dancing penguin, and ended up steamed at the the overt sexuality in the film, the environmental message, or both -- but I could be wrong here. So let me know what you think, folks. Was Happy Feet the best kids' film of the year, or was it all wet?

Note: This review originally ran during the Toronto International Film Festival. It is being reprinted now because the film is in limited release.

I overheard some press folks the other day discussing whether to check out the film Candy, and whether it's even possible at this point to make a film about drug addiction and drug addicts, without resorting to the trite and cliched. The thing is, it's a truth that many stories repeat themes done over and and over again -- drug abuse, child abuse, adultery, politics, the line between love and hate -- misery and tragedy are great fodder for interesting stories. Who wants to see a film about perfect, happy people? It's not whether the subject matter has been handled any number of times, it's the way that it's handled in any given story, whether book or film, that will either make a story stand on its own merit or stumble as we agonize over the cliches. Two other (at least) films on the fest circuit this year, Sherrybaby and Half Nelson, told stories of drug addiction in completely different ways. Now director Neil Armfield tries his hand at the subject with Candy, an adaptation of the book Candy: A Novel of Love and Addiction, by Luke Davies, who also co-wrote the screenplay with Armfield.

Ah, Turkey Day ... my house smells like roasted turkey (although my enthusiasm for eating turkey today has been dampened somewhat by my five-year-old demanding a detailed explanation about just how exactly two happy, alive turkeys with friends and families, dreams and goals, became turkey corpses sitting in buckets of brine in our lean-to laundry room). The pineapple is perfectly suspended in its lime-green gelatin home, the yams are ready to be immersed in butter and brown sugar and pumpkin pie spice -- and I'm slurping down my second coffee of the morning, and banging out this post for you before I get elbows deep in the dressing. I was pondering last night how many movies -- not just movies with Thanksgiving dinner as the centerpiece, but just in general -- have pivotal scenes or themes around eating.

Kevin posted his fave "films for foodies" earlier today, but in honor of a day set aside for stuffing ourselves silly, I thought I'd offer up a little round-up of some of my own favorite movies that focus on eating in slightly unexpected ways. When you're done eating Thanksgiving dinner, why not cozy up with one of these films? They're sure to keep you more awake than yet another football game.

Darren Aronofsky's The Fountain has been a conundrum for me since I first saw it at the Toronto International Film Festival: How to write about a film which so clearly has its heart in the right place, which the director created with such passion, and which works so well on certain levels, when its flaws keep it from being as great a film as it could have been? I wanted to love this film on every level -- wanted to love it so much, in fact, that I saw it a second time at a Seattle screening, just to give it another chance. And perhaps it's partly a problem of expectation: If I'd gone into the film expecting not to like it, then maybe it would have blown me away.

Think of every bad scene from every bad Christmas movie ever made. Now mix them all together however you like and toss them up on a movie screen. The end result, I promise you, will still be a better film than Deck the Halls, an incredible mess of a film starring Matthew Broderick, Danny DeVito, Kristin Davis and Kristin Chenoweth. The four leads all seem vaguely embarrassed to be seen in this film (and they should be), as if they kind of hope you won't notice it's them up there. If I took all twelve days of Christmas, I still couldn't enumerate all the ways in which this is a truly atrocious movie, but I'll do my best to give you a general idea.

In anticipation of the release of the Beerfest DVD (in both regular and unrated versions!) on December 5, we're bringing you one of the best prize package giveaways we've ever done for a Caption This! contest. You know the drill: Take a good look at the still from the movie above, then give us your best shot at a caption in the comments. The winning caption, as determined by either Erik's Magic 8 Ball or a team of highly-paid humor analysts (whichever gives the best pitch for why they should get the gig), will get this amazing prize package:

1 Completely, Totally Unrated Beerfest DVD

1 Navy Blue Bottle Opener Hat (Everyone who has seen this wants it!)

1 Black "Schnitzengiggle Tavern" Tee

1 Beer Mug Glasses (The kind you wear!)

1 Beautiful Beer Stein with Domed Lid

1 Alcohawk ™ Personal Breathalyzer (This is real and high-end.)

How's that for a great prize package? Four runners-up will win Beerfest Unrated DVDs. You love beer, you love Beerfest -- and even if you don't, hey, if you win you can wrap it all up and give it to your friends for Christmas. So put on those thinking caps, try out your caption ideas on your frat brothers or your mom, and get your captions in the comments. You have until midnight PST on December 5 to get your entries in.

Note: You MUST give a valid email address in order to activate your comment. Entries that are not activated by the reader will not be considered valid entries.

Out of the Blue, a dramatization of the1990 Aramoana Massacre in New Zealand, when local resident David Gray went on a mad rampage, killing 13 people, including four children, in the small coastal town where he'd lived his whole life, was one of the most riveting films at the Toronto International Film Festival. It was one of those films I hadn't planned to see, but decided to work into my viewing schedule; fortunately, it proved not to be time wasted, as the film is taut, tense and nerve-wracking, while at the same time managing to be respectful toward the victims and the people of Aramoana.

I'm glad to see I'm not the only one who liked this film; the ever-wily Weinsteins have picked up Out of the Blue in a co-acquisition deal with IFC. The film will have theatrical and video-on demand distrib through IFC's First Take and DVD release through Genius products. Out of the Blue is tentatively scheduled to come out in May; we'll keep our ear close to the ground and keep you updated.

Here's one thing to be thankful for on Thanksgiving: Movie City News reports that after five long months in the hospital, film critic Roger Ebert is now recuperating at home, continuing his physical rehab, and going to select screenings. We've followed Roger's progress here on Cinematical, from his initial surgery back in June for a recurrence of thyroid cancer, to the near-death scare when an artery burst at the surgical site, through his full disclosure of what exactly happened that led to the seriousness of his condition, and now, at last back home with wife Chaz. We here at Cinematical are tremendously thankful that "the big guy" is recovering successfully enough to be home in time for the holidays.

Welcome home, Roger. We look forward to the day you're back in the balcony on your show, giving us the thumbs up.

One of my favorite movies of this year is Guillermo del Toro's amazing Pan's Labyrinth, a dark fable about a little girl trapped in a desperate situation, who seeks refuge in a fantasy world that may be more dangerous than the one she leaves behind. When James Rocchi interviewed del Toro for Cinematical, the great director very graciously allowed us a peek inside his notebooks for Pan's Labyrinth. Now The Guardian has an even better look at what lies on some of those pages. Take a peek inside the mind of a master at work -- some day, these notebooks are probably going to sell for a small fortune to some collector, but for now, you can peruse them to your heart's content.

Pan's Labyrinth opens in the US December 29; it's definitely on my Top Five list of the year, and looking through del Toro's notebooks and seeing how it all came together just gives me a warm-and-fuzzy film-geek feeling inside. Go and enjoy, consider it an early Christmas/Hannukah/Kwanzaa/Insert holiday of your choice gift from del Toro and The Guardian to you.

[via Movie City News ]

Note: This review originally ran during the Toronto International Film Festival. It is being run again in conjunction with the film's limited release this weekend. For Your Consideration opens in wider release November 22. - ed.

With his films Waiting for Guffman, Best in Show, and A Mighty Wind, director Christopher Guest took the mockumentary approach he used in This Is Spinal Tap and brought it to a whole new generation. Guest assembled a cast of remarkable talent in Guffman, including Michael McKean (with whom Guest has worked for some 40 years), Eugene Levy, Fred Willard, Catherine O'Hara, Bob Balaban and Parker Posey, and worked with the same cast (adding some new talent along the way, including the spectacularly funny Jennifer Coolidge and perfectly deadpan Jane Lynch, building an almost unbeatable ensemble of comedy.

Guffman, Best in Show and A Mighty Wind all took the mockumentary approach, dealing, respectively, with a play in a small town, an eclectic group of characters taking part in a national dog show, and the reunion of 1960s folk singers for a concert. Guest's previous three films with this ensemble worked, not just because of their mockumentary style, but because of the brilliance and energy of the cast, who worked improvisationally, with very little script. With his latest effort, For Your Consideration, Guest and co-writer Levy break away from the mockumentary mold to take a narrative approach, while still retaining the improvisational freedom that give the cast the room to make their characters their own.

How do you take a book that's non-fiction and make a fictional movie about it? Real-life stories are made into movies all the time, of course: Erin Brockovich, The Insider, All the President's Men -- all took real events and made them into films. But Fast Food Nation, the book, is not a story about a person. It's a painstakingly researched documentation of the history of the fast food industry and California car culture, and their collective impact on the way entire industries are run, the way people eat, and the way their food is produced. How to translate the vast amount of information Eric Schlosser presented in his book nearly a decade ago into a cohesive fictional film? The answer: It's not easy.

Schlosser's book, which started out as an article for Rolling Stone as a behind-the-scenes look at fast food, covered everything from suburban sprawl and changes in the meat industry destroying the American rancher; the meat-packing industry morphing from a crappy, but well-paid job with union benefits, into a crappy, poorly paid job with no benefits, mostly occupied now by illegal immigrants; teens becoming an underpaid and easily exploited workforce; and the rise of an entire industry marketing to children. The heart and soul of Schlosser's book is the focus on the plight of illegal immigrants -- a topic dear to his heart, as he previously spent a year following immigrant migrant farm workers for an article for The Atlantic on illegal immigration and its relationship with the produce industry. Schlosser's passion for this facet of the fast food industry comes across clearly in the book, and in the film adaptation, it's the segment imbued with the most passion as well.

Call me old school, but I like my children's films to actually be written for children. With the glut of animated films flooding the kiddie film market, it seems that studios -- and the people they hire to write the scripts for them -- are convinced that the only way to get parents to take their tykes to the theater to see a kids' movie is to fill them to overflow with adult references, and Happy Feet is the latest offender. The film opens with a female penguin, Norma Jean (voiced by Nicole Kidman), swaying seductively through a crowd of male penguins. The female is drawn with an inflated chest, presumably to simulate a large bosom. Real female Empire Penguins don't have boobies, of course, but I suppose the filmmakers thought that real men can't manage to sit through a 90-minute film with their kids without some simulated penguin cleavage to keep their attention. Norma Jean moves through the males, singing, until her attention is caught by Memphis (Hugh Jackman), who channels Elvis and says things like, "Whoa, Mama" a lot.

There's an interesting debate going on in the comments on the IMDb page for the upcoming film Freedom Writers about whether Hollywood focuses too much on movies about white teachers changing the lives of poor, minority students. The film tells the true story of Erin Gruwell, a young (white) teacher who, wanting to do something with her life that would make a difference, chose to take her first job teaching Freshman and Sophomore English at Woodrow Wilson High to a group of kids who have been integrated into the formerly "good" -- read: white -- school, much to the resentment of the long-time (middle-aged, white) teachers who have been at Wilson since the good old days, before all those minority kids came in.

The idealistic Gruwell is flummoxed at first around how to deal with her students, who hate her even more than they hate each other, but she finds a way to help the kids find common ground, and to find the potential buried deep within each of them. Gruwell has her students start keeping journals about their lives, which eventually are published into a book called The Freedom Writers.

A reader in the comments thread went off on a diatribe about the film being yet another "great white hope" film about a white schoolteacher saving the day with minority kids; other readers have fired back that this film is based on a true story, that it's inspiring regardless of the color of Erin Gruwell's skin. Other comments have opined that only minority teachers can really understand minority students, or that there are lots of inspirational stories about minority teachers out there that Hollywood doesn't make into films.