These are already old news, but I never got around to posting them on Friday:

Basic

The Core

Aside from a couple guys from The Reel Deal cable access show, I don't pal around much with the Austin film press, but one of Harry Knowles' Ain't-It-Cool minions is a chatty fellow who cornered me at the The Core screening and asked if I'd seen Basic a few days earlier. I replied in the affirmative and was all set to commence with the eye-rolling when he said, "Wasn't it great? I thought it was the best movie so far this year!" Clearly the man had been struck by lightning on the way to theater. I should have just quietly agreed and gone back to my magazine, but Basic got so far up my nose, I felt compelled to tell the guy I hated it and explain why. Before I knew what was happening, he'd launched into an earnest and lengthy explanation of why McTiernan's previous movie, Rollerball, had been a failure. (Short answer: It wasn't McTiernan's fault!) I wanted no part of this. Now I gotta actively avoid this guy at every screening, lest he decide I'm his movie-chattin' buddy. I just want to sit and read my magazine before the movie starts. (Which brings me to another gripe -- whatever happened to having the house lights on before a movie starts? Some of the local theaters are phasing out this practice, presumably so I can’t read my magazine and am forced to watch the ad display on the screen. If this keeps up, I'll have to figure out how to play the games on my cell phone and pass the time that way.)

My SXSW wrap-up is finally up. I was a little slow getting it together this year. Would have written more about A Mighty Wind, but the powers that be asked that the screening not be reviewed because the print was supposedly unfinished. As it turns out, I'm gonna end up reviewing it for the Star-Telegram anyway. In short, if you like the other mockumentaries by C. Guest and co., you'll probably like this one. I'd rate it higher than Best in Show, lower than Guffman. Fred Willard is once again the secret weapon whenever the energy starts flagging. But I've already said too much, and soon the combined forces of SXSW and Castle Rock Entertainment will descend on my hidden mountain fortress and deliver swift and violent retribution.

Oscar pool results: I got 13 correct this year, good enough to win, or at least tie for the win, in three different pools. The key to my success: The Chubbchubbs! Remember, always vote for the animated short with the funniest name. It's not a foolproof method, but it works more often than not.

I was surprised by the strong showing by The Pianist, but also a bit baffled. How can a movie have the best director, best screenplay and best actor and not also be the best picture? I guess Polanski regrets cutting those musical numbers now.

Other Oscar notes: Steve Martin was funny for the most part. Funnier than Peter Jennings anyway. Those war cutaways were a bad idea, a half-assed compromise that only served to make the proceedings look even tackier than they already did. As for Michael Moore's speech, well, it went over better when he made it almost exactly word-for-word the day before at the Independent Spirit Awards. I'm sure George W. was properly chastened.

Dreamcatcher

It's been two months since my last post here, so I've decided to delete all the archives and start anew. The original concept wasn't really working anyway. Not that I have a new concept or anything. As a tribute to the original Moonshine Mountain, here are some of my favorite lines from the now-deleted archives, presented completely devoid of context. Reads sort of like a Larry King column, actually...
* * *
Some PR guy just called to see if I'd be interested in interviewing Rob Schneider on Monday. I can hardly think of anything I'd enjoy less.
* * *
It seems he was more the sort of crazy person who tries to send his messages through a wooden puppet rather than explosives.
* * *
This particular Motel 6 seemed to be a front for drug dealers, biker gangs and carnival workers. And the ice machine didn't work. And they don't sell beer in Tyler.
* * *
Harrah's! The Horseshoe! The Hollywood Casino! This is sort of sensory overload, considering that an hour earlier I'd been wandering alone in the woods looking for sasquatch poop.
* * *
Once you've seen Maximum Overdrive, you know you've pretty much reached rock bottom.
* * *
Can we agree that 105 degrees is too hot?
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I'm no Jeff Probst and never claimed to be.
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When you see such names as Harry Dean Stanton, Arthur Godfrey, Fred Willard, Billy Carter, Rory Calhoun and Avery Schreiber in the opening credits, you can't help but think this is a movie worth watching. But you would be wrong.

and my very first post ever...

Last week I purchased a cell phone. Today I started my own blog. Next week I may look into this color television I've been hearing about lately.