YOU'RE WASTING MY TIME (I'd like to see you try to give it back. Yeah.) I saw Paycheck. . . . and that's more than anyone should say about Paycheck. It is a movie about a guy who is paid not to remember the work he's done. Wishful thinking on the part of those responsible, if you ask me.

Paycheck gets: 1 point for being premised on technology that predicts the future, 1 point for Uma Thurman, 1 combined point for reminding me to wonder about John Woo again (but only briefly) and for not giving Paul Giamatti enough to do, for a total of 3.

Why would I go to see Paycheck? Because I'll see anything that looks like it might be a sci-fi/action flick.

Timecop? Yes.

Timecop 2? Oh, yes.

Virtuosity? Regrettably.

The Net? Please, be serious.

MegaForce? I begged and begged, but Mom said "no".

As an aside, can't you just picture the conversation with the esteemed Mr. Washington's agent?

Agent: Look, I cash in favors to get you work. You've been doing great work, and now I need you to do something for me.

DW: Wait, okay. Okay, fine. What's it called again?

Agent: Virtuosity.

DW: Oh. Okay. Virtuosity. Okay, so it's about a . . . violinist? Or what?

Agent: Actually, it's about a computer-generated serial killer.

DW: So, shouldn't it be, more like Virtual-icity? Or Virtual . . . Homicidal-ocity? Something?

Agent: That's not the point.

DW: But "Virtuosity". . . I mean, that's from the root for virtuoso, not virtual.

Agent: Right. Right! Exactly. He's really good at killing people, see?

DW: Who is? I am?

Agent: No. No, no.

DW: Who?

Agent: Uh... says here, "Russell Crowe". I dunno.

DW: The guy from Romper Stomper?

Agent: Oh, yeah. I guess.

DW: Shhhhi. . .

And so the wheels of commerce turn on and on, to this very day.

To qualify the quantification above, I should specify that Paycheck scored 3 on a scale from 1 to a much, much better movie. It was so bad that if you had access to a friend's blog, and you got it in your head to write about it when you were feeling guilty about not having posted anything, you'd be tempted to hyperlink it's title to promotional material for some better movie just to avoid any too-close association with it after the fact.

By way of comparison, The Return Of The King gets, like: 10 points for orc warfare, 10 points just remembering the ent warfare from The Two Towers, 10 points for siege warfare, 10 points for 3-story cgi uberelephant-based warfare, 5 points for epic themes, 5 points for epic scenes, 5 points for Good, 5 points for Evil, 3 points for a complete all-around cast, 3 points for near-seamless cgi, 2 points for EILTFs, 2 points for EMGFWLTFs (even though she didn't like him as much in Pirates Of The Caribbean), 2 points for souls of the damned, 1 bonus point for a minimum of moon-faced longing for the Shire, 1 bonus point for the all-but realized giddy hobbit pillow fight towards the end, and 1 bonus point for gratuitously marrying Sam off so we didn't think too hard about the all-but realized giddy hobbit pillow fight towards the end, for a total of 75(ish).

Tomorrow: The Triplets of Belleville. (No, really.)

OH, YEAH. THAT: I'm on personal hiatus from blogging for a spell until I can resolve more pressing issues than determining the grammatically correct title for the new Nicholson/Keaton film (my call: "Something Must Give"), telling you what to order at Shopsin's, or bashing that disgusting opportunist by the name of Rose.

I do want to take a moment to remember Tug McGraw, a truly decent man deserving of the adulation we fans gave him. And, anyway, how can you not love a man who, when asked how he'd spend his 1973 World Series share, said, "Ninety percent I'll spend on good times, women and Irish Whiskey. The other 10 percent I'll probably waste."

I'll be back.

TECK MONEY: Last time, we had no warning. This time, we do.

MTV will be re-airing the entire run of Real World: Hawaii on Friday, January 2, 2004, from 6:30 am to 3 pm. If you've never seen the best non-competition season of reality tv ever -- or, certainly, if you have and remember it as fondly as I do, set your VCRs and TiVos now.

TURN GREEN, MOTHERFUCKER: I've been taking some personal time off from the blog, and things will be very slow from my end until after the New Year (I can't speak for my co-bloggers). You'll cope. I know it.

But first I need to pass along word one of my favorite annual lists is back: the Village Voice's annual critics film poll.

Lost In Translation topped in the voting for best film and best performance, but what's really worth reading, as always, are the comments. Here's a sample:

Translation's ugly swipes at them wacky Japanese (not to mention pea-brained American starlets) can be read as a defensive hitting-out, an extremely adolescent mode of cocooning: shut in my room 'cos nobody speaks my language—nobody gets me—but you. The teen spirit of romanticized alienation soon grates because the film reads most convincingly as autobiographical juvenilia. And yet, even Bryan Ferry himself could not have conjured the plangent rhapsody of Mr. Murray singing karaoke "More Than This." Delayed adolescence is largely ridiculous, as is Lost in Translation, but what about the ridiculous sublime? --JESSICA WINTER

I love the scene in Terminator 3 when Claire Danes first uses an automatic weapon, and it's like Nick Stahl notices her for the first time as a sexually attractive being, and then he twists the knife completely by saying, "You remind me of my mother." --CHRIS CHANG

Had no one who reviewed Masked & Anonymous ever heard a Dylan song? The movie worked in the same way: oblique, threatening, funny, pointed. What was shocking about the trashing wasn't the implicit rejection of its politics (its vision of America as third-world dictatorship) as the critics' lazy-ass "Well, this is weird" reaction. The reviews were the equivalent of what you might get if you sneak-previewed La Chinoise at a multiplex. --CHARLES TAYLOR

Overheard, repeatedly, at the packed opening-night show of The Hulk at Loews 42nd Street, from a restless crowd of young action fans who didn't appreciate Ang Lee's reluctant, angsty Bruce Banner: "Turn green, motherfucker, TURN GREEN!" --ED HALTER

Character transpositions would've helped several movies. Master and Commander wouldn't have been so dull, decent, and manly with Johnny Depp's swashbuckler from Pirates of the Caribbean. Will Ferrell would've helped relieve the elvish tedium in LOTR III. From Lost in Translation, Anna Faris's ditzy starlet would brighten the stultifying Last Samurai—enough with the sword stuff, let's go out for sake and karaoke! --BRIAN MILLER

Enjoy.

MUST BE ATKINS OR SOMETHING: If you compare Philadelphia Eagles head coach Andy Reid in real life to his new bobblehead depiction, you may notice something's missing.

Suggested by the Philadelphia Daily News.

THE LENGTH IN EXTRAORDINARY GENTLEMEN: In a year where my best idea was "Shattered Ass", Lindsayism presents 2003's Best Porn Titles For Mainstream Movies. If you're the kind of person who finds giggle-worthy titles such as "The Secret Wives of Dentists" and "Barely Legal Blonde 2", this site is for you.

(Obligatory Wife Praise: her 1997 titling of "Men In Black Women" still tops the genre.)

Via A List A Day.

AWARD TOUR, CONTINUED: I know somebody out there is feeling hard-pressed, right this very moment, for a last-minute gift idea. Something low key, but rich and satisfyingly complicated. Something light-hearted, but heartfelt. Maybe something thoughtful, but funky. Yes? Yes. Here it is:

Lyrics Born has a new record out.

If you haven't heard of him, he's a longtime champion of the Bay Area hip-hop scene, working often with the Quannum / Solesides crew that has spun out DJ Shadow, Jurassic 5, Blackalicious and such like. With Quannum cohort Lateef, he also forms half of Latyrx. Like the rest of Quannum, Lyrics Born has and does reliably provide worthy, fun, intelligent tracks that take the time and effort to say something . . . Good stuff that leaves you thinking and feeling better for listening to it. His new disk, the first LB solo effort, is no exception.

It's called Later That Day, and you can find some other positive write-ups here and here. And here's a short interview.

Lyrics Born and Later That Day officially get my 2003 'Bout Damn Time Award for the solo album that I've been waiting for the longest. Ever since I heard "I Changed My Mind", in fact, and more so since I saw him open for DJ Shadow downtown last year.

Lyrics Born is a mellow visionary who can keep it humorous, spirited and insightful in verses about the day-to-day difficulties in real-world America: insomnia, telemarketers, phone trees, insufficient funds and begrudging payment of income taxes. I did not stop smiling the whole way through this disk. Chumps who dismiss this effort as "backpack hip hop" should be forced, A Clockwork Orange style, to listen to Prince Paul's last joint until they wake up and smell who the joke is on. I only wish half of the mainstream was a third this worthy, and await its righteous correction.

If you're in the Bay Area, Lyrics Born will be at The Fillmore on January 10, 2004 with Blackalicious. (I'd give you a link for that venue, out of an abundance of local pride, but all they offer is a chance to get on their mailing list. Punks. No info; no promos; no previews; no schedule; nothing but an address.)