I didn’t want to like Grey’s Anatomy. I watched the first episode simply because it was on, and I was too lazy to change the channel. It seems that most of the women I work with are also hooked, and none of us would have predicted that Loverboy Patrick Dempsey would morph into Dr. McDreamy. The relationships between the interns and doctors are unpredictable, quirky and even endearing. I am a big fan of the roller-coaster/train wreck that Sandra Oh and Isaiah Washington share, and I also enjoy Chandra Wilson as the complicated Dr. Bailey.

I just returned from seeing Good Night, and Good Luck. This is George Clooney’s second stint in the director’s chair, and I am beginning to appreciate him more behind the scenes than in front of the camera. Though the subject matter differs from the first movie he directed, Confessions of a Dangerous Mind, I enjoyed it just as much. Clooney’s unflinching close-ups of David Straithairn as Edward R. Murrow and accurate use of historical footage make for a compelling and educational film. Primarily a recognizable character actor, memorable as Tom Cruise’s brother in The Firm and Kathy Bates’ husband in Dolores Claiborne, Straithairn gives a powerful yet understated performance in Good Night, and Good Luck. The strong supporting cast includes a refreshingly adult Robert Downey Jr. and the consistently terrific Patricia Clarkson, as well as Jeff Daniels and Frank Langella. I applaud Clooney’s visual eye, and his passion for exploring the truth in television history. As the son of a news reporter, Clooney has an eye and a keen interest in the small screen; both of his movies are exposés of sorts.  His decision to only play small roles in the films he directs is also commendable; a star of his clout serves as a distraction from content and message.

I watched American Beauty. Again. I will never tire of this particular film. I chose to listen to director Sam Mendes’ audio commentary throughout the film this time, and it was fascinating. With the pending release of Jarhead, I wanted to refresh my memory about Mendes’ very specific visual style. Although I did not love his last film, Road to Perdition, the cinematography was quite stunning, and almost overshadowed the performances. The trailer for Jarhead is perfectly framed by Kanye West’s Jesus Walks, addictive enough for a quick purchase on iTunes.

Elizabethtown is one of those films that I had to let seep in. It seems, at least among friends who have seen it, that I am the only one who liked it. I didn’t love it, but I was hoping to. First of all, this is the first time I almost enjoyed Kirsten Dunst. Frankly, her teeth are distracting. If you make your living in front of the camera and close-ups are your bread and butter, the dentist should be your best friend.  Those pearly whites deserve to be straightened, Ms. Dunst. One hour of work on that third Spider-Man movie should more than cover the cost.  Regardless of her snaggletooth grin, Dunst is charming as a quirky flight attendant from the South. Strikingly similar to Natalie Portman’s role in Garden State, Dunst saves the boy and helps to soften the blow of major father issues. I’ve also never been on the Orlando Bloom bandwagon, so my expectations were quite low for his first role with an American accent and without heroic garb. He was bland at best, and only showed signs of true emotion on occasion, which I tend to believe had more to do with the script and his character. My vanity complaint about him is that hair. Does it have to be long and scruffy for every film? In this movie, we are supposed to believe he is a hotshot shoe designer, so I assume his long locks are our visual clue that he’s a creative genius rebelling in corporate America.  I appreciate the overall sentiment behind the movie; that Cameron Crowe wrote and directed Elizabethtown as homage to his father (much like Almost Famous was a tribute to his mother). One reason I enjoy all of Crowe’s films is that they’re dialogue heavy and character specific. Each movie is a tad autobiographical, as Crowe tends to transfer personal experiences from both his young life and rock & roll wife (Nancy Wilson) to the big screen. So although I wasn’t sold on the acting, I loved two elements of the film: strange people who happen to also be your family, and road trips with soundtracks. It is no surprise that the soundtrack to this movie provides a narrative above and beyond the story, that specific songs accompany key scenes beautifully. Crowe is the master of movie soundtracks, dating back to Say Anything, which he also wrote. I don’t grade films, but if I did, I would give Elizabethtown a solid B. At times it felt disjointed, but Crowe is the kind of filmmaker that makes me want to write a screenplay supported and surrounded by my favorite songs.

I try to avoid reading reviews of movies I want to see, and opt to form my own opinion. In the case of the new independent film Thumbsucker, perhaps I should have consulted the experts. While it was a disappointing effort, there were a few highlights, including the performances of Vincent D’Onofrio and a surprisingly funny Benjamin Bratt. Vince Vaughn fails at his attempt to play a normal character, the debate coach; he was distracting, and it seemed as if he was trying to suppress his laughter in every scene. Overall, the film dragged on, and after it was over, I was shocked to find out it was only an hour and a half long.  I have higher expectations for my next two indie outings: Capote and Good Night, and Good Luck.