So: Miramax is suing Daily Mail columnist and chick-lit novelist Allison Pearson, alleging that in 2002 they gave her an advance and a two-year contract to produce a new book, on which they’d own the movie rights. To give some perspective: the deal was brokered during the Harvey Weinstein era, and Miramax now alleges that they haven’t even been able to get Pearson to return their calls since 2006––a year after the Weinsten’s gave over their stake in the mini-major to Disney and left to start their own company.
But: Since Pearson is married to New Yorker film critic Anthony Lane, and according to Gawker, there is “speculation that critic-pandering Harvey Weinstein—when he was at Miramax—might have been inspired to buy her book because of Pearson’s husband.” Which make me wonder: totally hypothetically, if Anthony Lane was paid off to wink-wink positively review Miramax output from 2002 until the Weinsteins left the company in 2005, did he at least do a good job of it? My findings after the jump.
For the sake of convenience, let’s restrict this investigation to Miramax’s Oscar-bait, critic-dependent rtitles releaed from 2002 through the end of 2004. Two of Miramax’s all-time highest grossers, Chicago and Cold Mountain, would fall right within the time parameters of this deal (which, again, probably didn’t happen). Though David Denby took one for the team on the latter, Lane did review the former. He wasn’t crazy about it. “The director, Rob Marshall, cuts away furiously during every song, and this chronic wish to glance aside makes us wonder: could the performers not weather the camera’s unstinting gaze?” Lane wonders. Pausing to praise Catherine Zeta-Jones, he concludes: “The film has punch, but it never really conveys the delicious, redeeming sense that life can be lived on the hoof.” Likewise, Lane passed duties on reviewing Miramax releases The Aviator, and Lane’s review of Finding Neverland, though ultimately positive, is too mixed to read like it’s been influenced.
Conclusion: if the “speculation” is valid, then Anthony Lane is as bad at performing for a bribe as his wife is at meeting deadlines.
Originally posted on:
SpoutBlog