BOOKS: Annabel, Kathleen Winter (2010)

Winter's novel opens as Jacinta Blake gives birth at home, surrounded by her friends and local midwives. Her friend Thomasina is the only one to see that this child is unusual, born with both a penis and a vagina. Her doctors determine that the baby should be raised as a boy, which pleases her husband, Treadway, but Jacinta senses that something is being lost in the decision.

There is no doubt that Jacinta and Treadway love their son Wayne very much, but rural Canada in the 1970s is not an easy place for a child who is different, especially when he's never been told the truth about himself. Treadway finds it particularly difficult to adapt to a son who's less interested in trapping and fishing than he is in watching synchronized swimming, and who makes friends with girls more easily than with boys.

It would be very easy for this story to give in to sensationalism, but Winter never allows it to. She simply tells Wayne's story, allowing us to live for a while in the mind of someone struggling to make sense of the most basic aspects of his identity. The writing is graceful and insightful, and Winter has a gift for finding the telling detail that makes a scene come to life. Her characters are vividly realized, and even the background characters feel completely real. Here's how Winter introduces us to one of Wayne's childhood classmates:

Donna Palliser came to the school in the middle of grade five. She took one look around her and decided who had to be taken out and who could stay. She had a slow way of turning her head and giving a poisonous look to anyone she was taking out. Sometimes the look alone took the person out and that person retreated to the background, and sometimes Donna Palliser had to take action, which she did in the playground when none of the teachers was looking. She did not have a strong body; she bullied mentally, not physically, and the first and most important person she wanted to take down was Wally Michelin, who had been queen before Donna got there, and whom Donna could see was the kind of queen who ruled by natural nobility and not by cunning or cruelty or clever resolve. Wally was easy to take down because she did not care if she was queen or not. Wally was not going to move. The other girls would move. The other girls would swear allegiance to the new queen, and there would be a ranking order, and no one would care about Wally's green dragon or orange flare, which they had genuinely admired. They would care about Hush Puppies crepe-soled Mary Jone shoes instead, and angora boleros, and having a ballpoint pen with pink ink, and Sweet Honesty perfume ordered from the Avon catalogue.

If there's a weakness here, it's that Winter draws the dividing lines between the sides of Wayne's nature in very traditional ways. The fact that Wayne isn't an outdoors-y kid is a sign that he's not a "real" boy, for instance; there's no room for the possibility that some boys prefer the arts to nature, or that some girls enjoy hunting and fishing.

But on the whole, this is a lovely and sensitive story about the need for acceptance, and the pain of those moments when it seems that we may never find it, least of all from ourselves.

what's so funny 'bout peace, link, and understanding

A short list this week:

At NPR, Andy Trudeau gives his annual overview of this year's Oscar-nominated film scores.

Slate's Timothy Noah reports on a recent study which seems to prove that independent films are more likely to be rated R than studio films, which are more likely to get the audience-friendly PG-13.

Shady Characters is an interesting new blog devoted to the history of punctuation marks.

Love this tote bag.

MOVIES: 2010 Oscar-nominated animated shorts

This is a slightly stronger field than the live-action group, but even here, there's nothing really dazzling.

The one you've probably seen is "Day & Night," the Pixar short that played with Toy Story 3. It doesn't seem quite as substantial on second viewing, but it's still a charmer, and I admire the clever mix of UPA-style character animation and very modern digital work.

"Madagascar, carnet de voyage" (Madagascar: Travel Journal) is an impressionistic voyage through Madagascar, with each scene presented as a page from a scrapbook coming to life. There are multiple animation styles and media, and it's quite lovely to look at.

"The Gruffalo" is the longest of the bunch -- almost half an hour -- and it wears out its welcome long before it's done. The hero is a mouse, outsmarting the animals who want to eat him. The impressive voice cast (Helena Bonham Carter, Robbie Coltrane, John Hurt) can't hide the fact that the story's very repetitious, or that the hero mouse is such a smug little bastard that I was rooting for him to just get eaten already.

"Let's Pollute" is done in the style of 60s educational filmstrips -- perky music, overly enthusiastic narrator, etc. -- and tells the story of how Americans have become the excellent polluters we are today, while reminding us that we can do even better. It's only got the one joke, but it doesn't milk it for too long (it's only six minutes), and some of the punchlines are terrific.

"The Lost Thing" comes from Australia, and tells of a young boy who finds a mysterious thing (creature? machine?) on the beach, then helps it find its home. It's got a sweet melancholy, and it nails its ending better than any of the other entries, with final lines of narration that capture just the right mood.

Because the animated films are relatively brief, the program was padded out with a pair of non-nominated shorts. The German film "Urs" has a distinctive visual style, something like 3D woodcuts come to life, and some striking mountain landscapes. But the story is a muddled mess, and the visuals weren't enough to hold my interest for ten minutes.

"The Cow Who Wanted to Be a Hamburger" is instantly recognizable as a Bill Plympton film, and it's a hilarious look at a calf who's desperate to be accepted by the Happy Burger plant. There's a great parody of the action-movie training montage, and the moment when the cow realizes that he has perhaps not thought through all the implications of his career choice is magnificently done. I'd have rather had this in the final five than "The Gruffalo," and might have even dumped "Day & Night" or "Madagascar" for it.

But since "The Cow" isn't among the actual nominees,  I'd cast my ballot for "The Lost Thing." I'd bet on either "The Gruffalo" or "Madagascar" to win it, though.

MOVIES: 2010 Oscar-nominated live-action shorts

This struck me as a rather lackluster field compared to previous years, with only one real standout. Most of the shorts had serious problems either establishing or maintaning a consistent tone.

The show opened with "The Confession," in which we meet Sam, who is so nice a boy that he's worried he won't have anything to tell the priest at his upcoming first confession. Sam's friend comes up with a plan for Sam to do something confession-worthy, and things inevitably spiral out of control. The movie is walking the boundaries of dark comedy all the way, but I think the series of tragic errors goes one step too far, tipping it from dark comedy to tragedy.

"Wish 143" is about a 16-year-old with terminal cancer who is visited by one of those foundations that makes dying kids' last wishes come true. They aren't quite sure how to cope, though, when his last wish is to lose his virginity. Like "The Confession," the tone is a bit wobbly, but the final scene, in which the boy does wind up in bed with a woman, is very nicely played.

"The Crush" gives us a 10-year-old suffering from intense jealousy when he learns that his teacher is engaged to be married. Here, the problem is that the movie doesn't go far enough at the end; it gets right to the edge of a fabulous dark comic ending, and goes all mushy instead.

"Na Wewe" means "you too" in Kirundi, one of the languages spoken in Burundi, where a pair of Belgian diplomats find themselves caught up in the war between the Tutsis and the Hutus in the '90s. This one is a total mess, trying to milk comedy out of guerrilla warfare and child soldiers, and its punchline is a weak bilingual pun.

"God of Love" is the clear class of the field. It's a black-and-white film with something of a mid-period Woody Allen vibe, and tells the story of Raymond, a nebbishy dart-throwing jazz singer. Raymond is in love with his drummer, but she only has eyes for their guitarist (who happens to be Raymond's best friend). It's very funny and charming, and Raymond's awkward attempts at courtship are delightful. ("Would you like to hear a poem I wrote for you? It's nine pages long, and it's in Portuguese...")

This is always a hard category in which to pick a winner, and none of the five would surprise me. Force me to bet, and I'd probably go with "The Crush," but "God of Love" deserves it.

you always hurt the one you link

A terrific series of articles and blog posts on the current state of online TV criticism began at Slate with Josh Levin's article on Alan Sepinwall and the role of the fan-critic. The conversation continued with responses from James Poniewozik at Time, Myles McNutt at Cultural Learnings, and Sepinwall himself. And critics Maureen Ryan and Ryan McGee continue the discussion in the latest episode of their Talking TV podcast, joined by McNutt, and Noel Murray of The AV Club.

At Salon, Matt Zoller Seitz wonders if Glee can be saved.

Annie Lowrey at Slate explains federal deficit and debt by reducing the numbers to the scale of a typical household budget.

How old is Ikea, anyway?

Clark Whelton on the newest dialect of English: Vagueness.


And we close with a look at the perils of computer-generated captioning:

MUSIC: LA Philharmonic, February 20 (Smetana/Schumann/Dvořák)

Lionel Bringuier, conductor; Gautier Capuçon, cello

The program:

• Smetana, The Moldau
• Schumann, Cello Concerto
• Dvořák, Symphony #5

I don't know that I have anything particularly interesting to say about today's music, but the performances were skillful and entertaining; the scherzo and finale of the Dvořák were particularly delightful, with lots of charming passages for the winds and some terrific showy moments for the brass.

It was a concert led by very young men. The cello soloist, Gautier Capuçon, is 29, and conductor Lionel Bringuier is only 24 (and already in his 4th season as the Philharmonic's Associate Conductor).

Watching Bringuier conduct is a very different experience from watching Gustavo Dudamel. Dudamel is a larger than life figure, exploding so powerfully with energy that it seems the podium can barely contain him. His gestures are large and sweeping; you feel as if he's trying to physically push the emotion into the musicians. Bringuier, is more understated; his gestures are more compact and efficient, no bigger than necessary. He moves with supple grace; his arms have such fluidity that he sometimes seems to have no elbows.

To be sure, part of the difference is in the repertoire I've seen each man conduct; today's program doesn't call for the sort of overheated passion that the Turangalila requires. And Bringuier's calmer style doesn't keep him from getting thrilling moments out of the orchestra; the passage in The Moldau that's meant to depict the Rapids of St. John was tremendously exciting, and the Dvořák finale was a rousing crowd-pleaser.

This was certainly the warhorsiest concert I've attended in a long time, and that in itself was interesting; it helped me to clarify why it is that I enjoy more unusual and contemporary music.

I don't specifically remember hearing any of the specific pieces on today's program before, but the harmonic and musical language is very familiar to me. I enjoyed the music, but was rarely surprised by it. Its pleasures are, for me at least, smaller -- a delightful melody, an unexpected moment in the spotlight for the clarinets, a thrilling climax. That has its own appeal, and I find it very comforting.

But newer music is more likely to surprise me with novel combinations of instruments, surprising harmonic progressions, unusual timbres, and given the choice between comfort and surprise, I'll usually prefer surprise.

MOVIES: 2010 Oscar-nominated documentary shorts

Well, what a gloomy bunch of films this is! Long, too; each of the five films comes in just under the 40-minute time limit, so we were given a ten-minute intermission after the third film.

"Killing in the Name" is the story of a Jordanian man whose wedding reception was underway when a suicide bomber hit the hotel. He has since become an anti-terrorism activist, attempting to persuade other Muslims to renounce violence.

"Sun Come Up" is about some of the world's first environmental refugees. Carteret Island, in Papua New Guinea, is being lost to the rising seas; the tides come in so far now that land once used for crops is now a salty desert. Their government lacks either the ability or the interest to help the Carterets relocate, so they send a delegation to the nearest island, begging for land on which they can relocate before they starve to death.

The environment is also the subject of "The Warriors of Quigang," about a small Chinese village whose residents struggle against government indifference and corruption to close down the chemical plant that has been dumping toxic chemicals for the last 30 years.

"Poster Girl" is a profile of an American woman whose service in Iraq has left her with severe post-traumatic stress disorder. The biggest problem with the film is that we never get a good sense of what she was like before her service, so we're tempted to assume that the angry, fearful, hostile woman we're seeing is who she's always been, and it's sometimes difficult to empathize with her.

"Strangers No More" is the only moment of uplift in the collection, and unfortunately, it's a festival of cliche. It's the story of a Tel Aviv school for children of refugees; there are students from 48 different countries. The movie pounds on all of the predictable points -- brotherhood, the inherent saintliness and lack of prejudice found in children, the "we must help them, so that they can make a better world" idealism.

After the intermission, as a way to make sure that no one missed any of the documentaries because they were in the restroom or grabbing snacks, we got to see the animated short "Sensology." It's abstract black-and-white animation timed to a group of even more abstract jazz pieces for piano and bass. It's not very interesting animation, and it's even less interesting music; it was a waste of six minutes.

If I were voting, I'd go with "Sun Comes Up," but if I were betting, I'd put my money on "Strangers No More" to win; it's the most optimistic film of the bunch, which usually helps, and it's filled with adorable children. Hard to bet against that.

BOOKS: Crooked Letter, Crooked Letter, Tom Franklin (2010)

As boys, Larry and Silas were friends. For a short time, anyway. That friendship ended abruptly in a fury caused by bad parenting, teenage naivete, and the unavoidable complications of race in 1970s Mississippi (Larry is white; Silas is black).

Now the men are in their early 40s, both still living in the same small town. Silas has become a member of the local police force. Larry has spent 20 years under the suspicion that he killed a young woman, though her body was never found and he has always maintained his innocence. He is a social pariah. So when another young woman disappears, Larry is the obvious suspect, and the two men find their lives intersecting again.

The strength of Franklin's novel is his setting. His small-town Mississippi is vividly described, and the sense of just how much race still matters is overwhelming. The characters, especially Silas, are sharply developed. The story is less successful; one of the big plot twists is rather hackneyed, and it's telegraphed far too early.

The strengths outweigh the weaknesses, though, and this is a very entertaining novel. It's one of this year's Edgar nominees in the Best Novel category; I've read four of the six, and I'd place this a respectable second behind Tana French's Faithful Place.

TV: a quick catching up

So, a variety of new shows last week, and I don't have a lot to say about any of them, so let's just do a quick zip through them:

THE CHICAGO CODE (Fox, Mon 9)
Jennifer Beals is the new police commissioner in Chicago, and is determined to use her power to bring down the city's corrupt politicians, chief among them city councilman Delroy Lindo. Jason Clarke, who was Beals' partner during her days on the street, is appointed to head up her unofficial task force (because the council won't support an official one) to do just that. The principals are all very appealing, as is Matt Lauria as Clarke's eager young partner. (One does wonder who's naming these characters, though; the three principal men are named Jarek (Clake), Ronin (Lindo), and Caleb (Lauria), none of which are your run-of-the-mill first names for men their age.)

The ongoing battle against the evil councilman will, it seems, be balanced against police case-of-the-week stories, and that serialized element might be interesting enough to keep me watching even though I'm not a huge fan of cop shows.

TRAFFIC LIGHT (Fox, Tue 9:30)
Yet another sitcom about three guys and their relationships. One's a single horndog; one's just moved in with his girlfriend; one's been married for six years. (And yes, there is an awkward monologue at the end of the pilot comparing these statuses to green/yellow/red traffic lights.) None of the characters are particularly likable or loathsome, and the show never generates more than a mild chuckle. It is a show that will inspire, at most, mild enthusiasm or mild distaste; there's not enough substance to it to inspire a more vigorous response in either direction.

BAR KARMA (Current, Fri 10)
I believe this is the first attempt at scripted programming from Current, the Al Gore-owned channel that's better known for news and current affairs programming (and as the newly announced home for Keith Olbermann). The gimmick here is that the show's creators have outsourced the writing; you can go to a website and propose story lines and plot twists, or you can vote yes or no on other people's suggestions; the writing staff will create the episodes based on the winning ideas.

The show is set in a mysterious bar, a karmic way station where the bartender and waitress are responsible for helping people make the right choices at crucial turning points. The pilot was filled with too much new-age-y mumbo jumbo for my taste, but perhaps once the setup's out of the way, that will take a back seat to actual storytelling.

Best thing about the show is William Sanderson as the bartender; even if you don't recognize the name, you probably know the face (maybe from True Blood, Deadwood, or Newhart), and he's always a welcome presence. Can't say I'm wildly enthusiastic about the show, but The Roommate liked it a lot, so I'll probably watch another episode or two to see where it goes.

BOOKS: World's Greatest Sleuth!, Steve Hockensmith (2010)

Fifth volume in the Holmes on the Range mystery series.

Gustav ("Old Red") and Otto ("Big Red") Amlingmeyer find themselves in Chicago this time, for the1893 Columbian Exposition. With the recent publication of the final Sherlock Holmes story, in which Dr. Watson reports the death of Holmes, several magazine publishers have come together for a "World's Greatest Sleuth" contest; each has a detective whose exploits they publish, and each wants his detective to be given the de facto title of successor to Holmes.

The big city is alien territory to the brothers, but they agree to take part in the competition, which consists of a series of daily scavenger hunts with riddles for clues. This isn't real sleuthing, Gustav grumbles, but when one of the publishers turns up dead, the Amlingmeyers and their rivals suddenly have a real mystery on their hands.

The other detectives Hockensmith has created are a delightful assortment of characters. There's a stuffy Brit who naturally considers himself the only true heir to Holmes, an eccentric Frenchman who comes across as sort of a precursor to Hercule Poirot (yes, I know, Poirot was Belgian, not French), a street-smart New York private eye, and (returning from earlier volumes) the lovely Diana Corvus, working with a partner whom Gustav and Otto are not so happy to see.

As always in this series, Hockensmith does a marvelous job of giving us interesting historical details, and Big Red's narrative voice has just enough hint of the period to feel accurate without being so archaic as to be impenetrable. The style is light and breezy, with an entertaining mix of suspense and humor. The mystery is compelling, and the red herrings are cleverly deployed. This is another solid entry in an absolutely charming series.

a groovy kind of link

Slant's "The House Next Door" brings us Jason Bellamy and Ed Howard in a terrific, lengthy discussion of True Grit.

At Refinery29, Kristian Laliberte points us to a Valentine's gift that will, perhaps, not be appropriate for every couple.

The Los Angeles Philharmonic announces its 2011-12 season, featuring a complete cycle of Mahler's symphonies. (I'm sure that'll thrill some, but as for me, yuck.)

At The Washington Post, Hank Steuver on The Good Wife and the dying art (at least on network TV) on long-term storytelling.

And let's close with Steve Reich's minimalist landmark "Clapping Music," as interpreted by Miss Angie Dickinson and Mr. Lee Marvin:

BOOKS: In Search of Mercy, Michael Ayoob (2010)

For 25 years, the Private Eye Writers of America and St. Martin's Press have sponsored the Best First Private Eye Novel competition. The PWA's interest is obvious; I assume that St. Martin's gets first crack at publishing the winners, as they've done with this, the 2009 winner.

The novel has some of the feel of a traditional hard-boiled, noir-esque private eye, though its hero is younger than usual for the genre. Dexter Bolzjak is 25, and is still recovering from the two events that have come to dominate his life. As a high school senior, Dexter was a star hockey player, until the night he choked and lost his team the state championship; later that night, he was kidnapped and tortured by four particularly demented fans. Those events have not only destroyed Dexter's confidence, but he's also dealing with some serious post-traumatic stress. As a resort, he's never accomplished much, and scrapes by on his job at a produce warehouse.

All of which would make him a fairly unlikely candidate to take on a missing-persons search, but that's what he's asked to do by Lou Kashon, an elderly drunk who's rapidly dying of cancer, and longs to see the love of his life once more before he dies. She won't be easy to find; she vanished imore than 40 years ago and hasn't been seen since. And it's not as if people haven't been looking, because Lou's vanished love is Mercy Carnahan, who had been a huge star in the late 40s and early 50s, and continues to have a loyal cult of worshippers.

Ayoob does a nice job of capturing his working-class Pittsburgh setting, and his descriptions of Mercy's career and her glamorous appeal are good enough that I found myself wanting to see her movies. The resolution of the mystery wasn't quite satisfying, but Dexter and Lou are appealing characters, and I'd be happy to see Dexter return in another book.

I was bothered, though, by the chapter in which Ayoob takes us back to the night of Dexter's capture and torture, which he describes in excessive detail. We've already gotten the gist of what happened, certainly enough to understand Dexter's reaction to it; the blow-by-blow is gratuitous and out of place. And I'm not normally particularly disturbed by such things, so I would guess that those who are more sensitive will find it very tough going.

MOVIES: Best of 2010 -- top ten movies

Starting with #10 and working up to #1, these are the movies that made the biggest impression on me this year:

• True Grit -- as usual from the Coen brothers, every role is impeccably cast (Dakin Matthews is a special treat as Mattie's horse-trading nemesis), and the tone is perfectly controlled.
• The Social Network -- Despite the movie's factual inaccuracies and distortions, the story it does tell is wildly entertaining, and the actors handle Sorkin's dizzying dialogue with astounding grace and ease.
• Another Year -- The more I think about this movie, the more I begin to pity its central couple, Tom and Gerri, who are so hermetically sealed within their own happiness that they are almost willfully oblivious to the sorrow of their friends.
• The King's Speech -- Yes, it's shamelessly old-fashioned, and deliberately pushes every "give me an Oscar!" button known to man, but it pushes them extremely well, and while I think it's been a bit over-rewarded by the Academy, it's a solid piece of entertainment.
• Tangled -- Gorgeous animation; solid voice performances; lively songs and production numbers. And the lantern scene is the animation set piece of the year.
• Shutter Island -- A deliriously loopy homage to and parody of B-movie horror, with Scorsese setting just the right over-the-top tone, and getting impeccable performances, especially in the smaller roles.
• The Ghost Writer -- A masterful thriller, with the best final image of the year.
• Blue Valentine -- A devastating portrait of a marriage in collapse. Writer/director Derek Cianfrance is superb at showing the way that the traits which draw people together are the very things that will eventually pull them apart.
• Exit Through the Gift Shop -- A spectacularly entertaining documentary about the insanities of the contemporary art world. The possibility that the entire thing is some sort of massive hoax only plays into the movie's central question: Is there any real meaning to art, or do we simply accept that art has value because we've been told that it does?
• Toy Story 3 -- How does Pixar keep getting better and better at this? It's funny, it's devastatingly emotional, and it presents serious issues in a way that entertains the kids and moves the adults. If you're not crying after Andy's final scene, then you have no soul, my friend.

And a group of runners-up, any one of which might have made the top ten on a different day: Animal Kingdom, Barney's Version, Dogtooth, Inception, Mother and Child, Night Catches Us, The Secret in Their Eyes, The Square, Timer, Unstoppable.

MOVIES: Best of 2010 -- Actor

The runners-up:

• Ricardo Darin, The Secret in Their Eyes
• Michael Douglas, Solitary Man
• Paul Giamatti, Barney's Version
• Anthony Mackie, Night Catches Us
• Geoffrey Rush, The King's Speech

The nominees:

• Aaron Eckhart, Rabbit Hole -- Heartbreaking portrait of a man coping not only with his own grief, but with his wife's refusal/inability to cope with hers.
• Jesse Eisenberg, The Social Network -- Eisenberg finally stops trying to play lovable, and giving in to his inherent smugness and creepiness leads to his best performance ever.
• Colin Firth, The King's Speech -- You can see the pain and frustration on his face every time he's caught by his stammer; it's a more intensely physical performance than you realize at first glance.
• David Roberts, The Square -- The weariest performance of the year; Roberts' perpetual scowl of disappointment tells us everything we need to know about him in the first scene of the movie.

The winner:

• Ryan Gosling, Blue Valentine -- like his co-star Williams, Gosling does a fine job of showing his character's subtle changes and intensifications over time. That puppydog enthusiasm that is so appealing at first becomes grating, with only the tiniest of changes on Gosling's part.

MOVIES: Best of 2010 -- Actress

The runners-up:

• Emma Caulfield, Timer
• Patricia Clarkson, Cairo Time
• Nicole Kidman, Rabbit Hole
• Paprika Steen, Applause
• Kerry Washington, Night Catches Us

The nominees:

• Annette Bening, Mother and Child -- An uncompromising portrayal of a "difficult person," and Bening is particularly good at showing us how she begins to adapt to a more social life without letting the rough edges be completely sanded away.
• Jennifer Lawrence, Winter's Bone -- Lawrence has a remarkably communicative face, and we always know what she's thinking and (more important) what she's trying to keep hidden.
• Emma Stone, Easy A -- Charming and likable even in her character's most smart-aleck moments, Stone carries this movie and keeps us smiling despite the unsavoriness of the plot.
• Michelle Williams, Blue Valentine -- Working in two different timeframes, Williams does a subtle job of showing us how Cindy's traits, admirable and annoying, intensify over time in exactly the wrong ways, leading to the death of her marriage.

The winner:

• Hailee Steinfeld, True Grit -- Academy be damned, there's no way this is a supporting performance. Steinfeld carries this movie from start to finish, and she displays charm, verbal dexterity, and grace that take a back seat to none of her older and more experienced co-stars.

MOVIES: Best of 2010 -- Supporting Actor

The runners-up:

• Matt Damon, True Grit
• Guillermo Francella, The Secret in Their Eyes
• Bob Hoskins, Made in Dagenham
• Ian McShane, 44 Inch Chest
• Owen Wilson, How Do You Know

The nominees:

• Pierce Brosnan, The Ghost Writer -- A lovely portrait of a man led into foolish things by love, who's forced to deal with the realization of how badly he's been played.
• Andrew Garfield, The Social Network -- A wide-ranging role, and Garfield gets all of the moments right -- giddy optimism, the pain of betrayal, the incredible patience it takes to be Zuckerberg's friend.
• Ewan McGregor, I Love You Phillip Morris -- A performance of incredible sweetness, providing a level of emotional grounding that is much needed to balance out Carrey's more manic comedy.
• Bill Murray, Get Low -- A marvel of quiet restraint and droll humor that was far more interesting than the overpraised performances by the bigger names in the cast.

The winner:

• Justin Timberlake, The Social Network -- It's a high-energy movie, but the manic jolt that Timberlake's arrival brings is still a welcome change; and its impact on the Eisenberg-Garfield dynamic drives the last part of the movie.

MOVIES: Best of 2010 -- Supporting Actress

The runners-up:

• Ann Guilbert, Please Give
• Rosamund Pike, Barney's Version
• Kerry Washington, Mother and Child
• Mia Wasikowska, The Kids Are All Right
• Dianne Wiest, Rabbit Hole

The nominees:

• Dale Dickey, Winter's Bone -- The matriarch who rules with an iron fist, protecting her husband by enforcing his privacy, and more aware than anyone of what a bleak world her young cousin is entering.
• Kimberly Elise, For Colored Girls -- She's handed the movie's most difficult material, forced to react to the most cartoonishly evil act, and makes the moment so heartbreakingly real that you shrink in your seat, not so much from the horror of what's been done but from the intensity of her pain.
• Lesley Manville, Another Year -- Alternating between denial and despair, sometimes in the same breath, Manville's every emotion is instantly readable, and provides the backdrop against we recognize the willful oblivion of her friends.
• Jacki Weaver, Animal Kingdom -- Grandma Smurf may not be the one pulling the trigger, but she's the most vicious member of her family, and that loving smile becomes awfully icy by the time the movie ends.

And the winner:

• Olivia Williams, The Ghost Writer -- Ruth's simmering anger and resentment run so deep that it's a bit shocking when we realize just how many of the strings she's been pulling. It's a ferocious portrayal of a woman who feels that all of her hard work has been betrayed.

MOVIES: Best of 2010

Having spent January catching up with some of the year's movies that I'd missed in theaters, the next few posts will be my annual picks for the year's best. There are three movies among the major Oscar nominees that I haven't seen: 127 Hours, not just because of how horrible the arm-chopping scene might be, but because I don't think I can take the two hours of anticipating the arm-chopping scene; Biutiful, because I've had more than my share of gloom and depression this Oscar season, and I am not so fond of Javier Bardem that he's going to get me to sit through two more hours of g&d; and The Town, which I actually went to, and left in boredom after the first half-hour. Beyond that, if your favorites aren't on the list, you have my permission to assume that I just didn't see them.

everybody needs somebody to link

The Wall Street Journal reports on an intriguing new opera that replaces the traditional pit orchestra with a group of a cappella singers -- a "voicestra."

At Slate, Shankar Vedantam argues that partisanship is the new racism.

Salon's Alonso Duralde on the woeful state of Latino cinema in the US.

At TV Guidance, Jamie Weinman makes the case that TV's so-called "death slots" may not be so deadly anymore, at least for the right shows.

Steve Pond of The Wrap offers as clear an explanation as I've ever seen of the complicated mathematics that goes into choosing the Oscar nominees.

Roger Ebert and film editor Walter Murch on why 3D doesn't work and never will.

And this collection of delightful "premakes" -- trailers for the imaginary "original" versions of recent movie hits. Here's my favorite, for the 1965 Disney live-action movie Up, starring Spencer Tracy and Kirk Douglas.

MOVIES: Dogtooth (Giorgos Lanthimos, 2009/US 2010)

From Greece, here's one of this year's Oscar-nominated foreign films, and it is one of the weirdest things I've ever seen. To the extent that you can classify it at all, it's an erotic dysfunctional-family horror movie. I guess.

A family of five -- they are never named, and it appears that the children don't even have names -- lives on an isolated walled estate. The father is the only one who ever leaves, to go to his factory job. The children have been told that the world outside the walls is unsafe, and that an older brother, apparently exiled for his refusal to follow the family rules, was killed by man's most vicious predator -- a cat. (It seems fairly clear that the older brother is simply part of the legends the parents use to keep their children in line.)

The children know nothing of the outside world. The television is used only for watching home movies, and while they occasionally listen to records, they are told that (for instance) Frank Sinatra is their late grandfather, singing songs of family love and obedience.

The children are in their late teens or early 20s, and the father occasionally brings home Christina, a young co-worker, to tend to his son's sexual needs; it seems not to have occured to anyone that the daughters might have needs of their own. The small hints of the outside world that Christina leaves behind gradually get bigger and bigger, throwing the family's delicate balance out of whack, until the children grow restless, especially the older daughter.

The movie refuses to offer any explanation as to how the family came to live this way, which I think is wise; any explanation we could be given would only seem silly and raise countless loopholes and objections. The cinematography emphasizes the strangeness of the family's existence with lots of static shots, often framed so that heads or limbs are cropped out of the shot.

Be warned that there are a few brief moments of sudden, intense violence; cat lovers may find one scene particularly disturbing.

Dogtooth is not going to appeal to everyone; some people will absolutely loathe it. I found it riveting and utterly compelling, and there are moments that will stick with me for a very long time. It's a bizarre and fascinating movie.