Tagged: George Clooney

Box Office Democracy: Money Monster

If your internet life is anything like mine you probably saw one too many articles this week on Money Monster and what it meant for the election, or what it meant that George Clooney made this movie and is a Hillary supporter, or why this movie exists when The Big Short already came out. I found it completely exhausting and it wasn’t representative of what this movie actually is. Money Monster isn’t a real piece of analysis about any kind of systemic flaws in our financial system; it’s John Q but with algorithmic trading instead of health care bureaucracy and George Clooney instead of Denzel Washington. It’s a fantasy and an understandable one, but one that feel light on substance and, ultimately, a little garbled.

The big problem Money Monster has is with its casting. George Clooney is a proven commodity as the slick huckster with a heart of gold, and throwing in some Jim Cramer caricature makes it so much better. Julia Roberts is the quintessential put-upon hard-working career woman and she’s firing on all cylinders reunited with Clooney to do a slightly less sexually charged version of their shtick from Ocean’s Eleven. Clooney and Roberts are fantastic but they pull focus from the character the movie should be about, the guy who is so angry with the injustice of the financial system he needs to take hostages, Kyle Bludwell. Kyle is played by English actor Jack O’Connell, who you might know from his turn on the British drama Skins or his medium-sized part in 300: Rise of an Empire, but who you probably don’t remember from anything. He does a good job and is honestly acting his ass off at certain points in this film, but even in those big moments it’s hard not be transfixed by the bigger stars on the screen. It makes Kyle’s rage about the injustices of our system and the lack of accountability seem like the less important problems than the dining habits of a TV host, and that seems antithetical to the movie’s message.

If we ignore the central political issue, and it sort of feels like the film wants us to, there’s perfectly good filmmaking in here. The studio hostage scenes are tense and it especially does a good job focusing on the fear and menace that the gun represents. The mystery elements feel sufficiently twisty and surprising, although my fiancée pointed out in the car home that it all really gets solved by one person asking one question to the right regulatory body and maybe it all would have come out without the events of the film but I can let that go. There are even some good moments of levity, which can be hard to balance with a film that wants to be on the edge of overwrought all the time. It’s nice to see Jodie Foster back directing features and she gets good work out of her actors, it’s just a shame to see the parts add up to less than a coherent whole.

There’s no way anyone in Hollywood sat in their office and said, “we’re going to make a movie about the financial crisis and we’re going to cast George Clooney and Julia Roberts and it’ll get middling reviews and open in third place in mid-May.” That’s just not how anything works. The previews we saw before this movie were prestige films with festival accolades and pre-made awards pitches, and it was like seeing the potential Money Monster was going to fail to live up to. This could have been a powerful statement on any number of topics, but instead was okay with being a good thriller and an offbeat character piece. Money Monster wants to be a big and important movie but it doesn’t get there, it doesn’t have a strong enough point of view or clarity of vision.

Mindy Newell: Quality of Life

Law & Order SVU Comic Book Guy

I just finished watching an episode of Law & Order: Special Victims Unit – it’s Sunday afternoon, and I’m addicted to the USA network marathons of the show on Sunday afternoons. The episode was actually one that I’ve never seen before, and it turned out that the perp was the mildly developmentally disabled – what we called retarded in the bad old days – owner of a comic book store. Perpetuating the stale old myth that anyone into comics has to be emotionally and intellectually limited with sexually perverse lusts. Way to go, SVU! That really pissed me off. (And yes, real comics were mentioned, including The Avengers and Justice League.)

On Friday I stopped by my brother’s house; it turned out that he and my niece went to see Batman Vs. Superman: Dawn of Martha (as fellow ComicMix columnist Marc Alan Fishman calls it) and both were completely disgusted by it. “Ridiculously violent,” my brother said. “Stupid,” said my succinct niece. “We live in a violent world, and the movies reflect that,” said I.

Chuck Todd interviewed George Clooney, who hosted two California fund-raisers for Hillary Clinton on Saturday and Sunday, on NBC’s Meet the Press this morning. Tickets cost between $33,400 and $353,400 to hobnob with Hillary and other bigwigs (raising $15,000,000). Clooney agreed with Todd that this amount of money is “obscene.” He then went on to say:

“I think what’s important and what I think the Clinton campaign has not been very good at explaining is this, and this is the truth: the overwhelming amount of money that we’re raising (and it is a lot) but the overwhelming amount of the money that we’re raising is not going to Hillary to run for President, it’s going to the [Democratic] ticket. It’s going to the congressmen and senators to try to take back Congress. And the reason that’s important…to me is because we need – I’m a Democrat so if you’re a Republican, you’re going to disagree – but we need to take the senate back. Because we need to confirm the Supreme Court justice because that fifth vote on the Supreme Court can overturn Citizens United and get this obscene, ridiculous amount of money out so I never have to do a fundraiser again. And that’s why I’m doing it.”

I get what he’s saying, I really, really do. But it still doesn’t feel right or sit well with me.

Clooney also said that, although he is a Hillary backer, he will totally “feel the Bern” if Sanders gets the nomination and will be absolutely happy to participate in fundraising for him if asked to do so by the candidate.

I just wonder…would Bernie ask?

We all talk about “quality of life.” Euthanasia proponents wear the phrase on their t-shirts. And we are told to have, what’s called in my trade, “Advance Directives,” so that if we become unable to articulate our medical treatment desires for whatever reason, our wishes are already written down and notarized and signed, sealed and delivered into the hands of our, as we say in the trade, “healthcare proxies” who can advocate for us when we can’t advocate for ourselves.

I saw my father. He definitely has no “quality of life.” He receives what is called in the trade “palliative care.” He is not in pain – thank God! Though since he cannot really communicate anymore, God knows what kind of inner, emotional pain he’s in. I like to think that when he sleeps or when he is in that dream-state into which I and the rest of my family cannot cross, he is sitting in the cockpit of his beloved P-51D Mustang – the one with the Rolls-Royce Merlin 66 two-stage, two-speed supercharged engine (the definitive version) because one time my mother asked him where he was, and he said that he was “in the hangar.”

My mother and he will be married 68 years this June. There were times when I thought it was over, done, kaput. They are everything to each other. Does he dream of their courtship, of their wedding day, of their early years together?

Do androids dream of electric sheep?

My father is not an android.

But does he dream?

John Ostrander: Choose Your Future!

Choose-Your-Future-Mad-Max-or-Tomorrowland

There’s an interesting duel going on at your local Cineplex – two very different views of the future. One is Mad Max: Fury Road and the other is Tomorowland. The first is a reboot of the classic Mad Max films, set in a very dystopian future, while Tomorrowland is based, in part, on a section of Disneyland. (While that might seem a bit thin a premise on which to base a film, keep in mind that the initial Pirates of the Caribbean was based on a ride at Disneyland and, the initial film at least, was delightful.)

While I haven’t yet seen the latest Mad Max incarnation, I know its predecessors very well and the trailers have certainly more than suggested that it’s the same landscape. Tomorrowland posits a city founded by the likes of Jules Verne, Thomas Edison, Nikolai Tesla, and Gustave Eiffel. In some parallel dimension, they created a utopia where the best and the brightest from all walks of life, art as well as science, can come and are encouraged to do anything they can dream. The four recruit other scientists and dreamers with a pin that has the letter “T” on it. It’s supposed to be science although for all extents and purposes, it’s a magic talisman.

I’m not going to do a review of either film but I am interested in the two contrasting visions of the future. Tomorrowland acknowledges the problems facing this world, any of which could lead to a dystopian future but it maintains that this future is not inevitable. As the villain in the piece, Governor Nix, maintains what makes it inevitable is that humanity embraces that dystopic vision, even runs towards it, because it is easier. All we have to do is nothing. Changing it requires doing something. I think doing something requires belief that the actions will have a positive effect, that the future can be changed, that it all can be made to work.

And that’s where it becomes a problem for me.

Dystopian futures are my stock in trade. Hell, dystopian present is a familiar stomping ground for me. That’s become even more so in the past few years. I look at the world, at the greed and the political insanity and the climate change and the droughts and the intolerance of all stripes, not only religious, and I don’t see it changing. I think humanity, like lemmings, are heading for the cliff and will jump off it.

Belief comes hard to me these days. For example, on the notion of God/god/ghod (pick a god, any god) I’m an agnostic in general and an atheist in specifics. Could there be a god out there? I don’t know. Quantum mechanics suggests all sorts of strange things; maybe within that a notion of god could exist. However, in regards to a specific god – Yahweh, Allah, Jesus, Zeus, Eshu, Thor, Shiva, Vishnu. Hecate and on and on – I don’t believe in any of them. The stories are interesting and can even have moral worth but I don’t believe any of their gods are real. If you do, fine. I’m not trying to correct you and tell you your belief in a specific image of god is wrong. It’s not mine, however.

Nor do I believe that humanity can or will come to its collective senses in time to avoid any of the disasters that seem lying in wait for us. There’s not enough profit, political gain, or perceived power to be had in doing something about any of this even if we could agree that something needs to be done and what that something would be.

And yet. . .

And yet, my heart responds to Tomorrowland. In it, they use the metaphor that we all have a bright wolf and a dark wolf within us fighting for control. Which will win? Whichever one you feed.

I know which future I think is more likely given who we are as a species.

But I want one of those pins with the “T” on it. I want to hope. I want to believe despite everything I think I know.

I want to go to Tomorrowland.

Martha Thomases: Look Out, Here Comes Tomorrow

Tomorrowland didn’t do as well as expected this weekend in theaters.  Some people celebrated this fact, apparently believing that the movie was the brainchild of George Clooney and that it was a propaganda film about climate change.

They must have seen a different movie than I did.

I’ll admit that, like the Big Hollywood website, I went to the theater with my own set of assumptions and biases.  Tomorrowland is my favorite area in the Disney parks, the first place I wanted to go the first time I went (in 1979).  I love the work of director Brad Bird, and have since The Family Dogperro-de-familia

And, yeah, I have the hots for George Clooney and I think climate change is an issue deserving action.  Only the first of those affects my ticket-buying decisions.

So, the Disney nerd in me loved the movie.  But, more important to this column, so did the comics fan.

Because I love the future.  I remember when everybody did.

You see, one of the themes of Tomorrowland is that we, as a society, have become too enthralled with pessimistic stories and fleeting fads.  Instead of wallowing in disaster movies (like this) or dystopian dramas (like this), we should work together to make the future better.

Look, it’s really normal for adolescents to be drawn to the “grim’n’gritty” dystopias.  And, by “normal,” I mean that I did it.  For me, devastated that I was not only the center of the universe but my parents weren’t all-powerful and my body was doing strange things that involved icky fluids, it seemed that pessimism was the more sophisticated viewpoint.  I wasn’t a little kid anymore, with bright colors and flowers and candy.  No, I wore black and I was sullen.  If the cool kids (the jocks and the cheerleaders) wouldn’t have me as one of their own, I was going to act as if I rejected them first.

And then I grew up.

Look, I still like a lot of things that can seem pessimistic.  Blade Runner remains one of my favorite movies, based on the work of Philip K. Dick, a rather depressing writer whom like a lot.  I like punk rock and Lou Reed and Leonard Cohen.  I like Transmetropolitan and The Dark Knight Returns.

The older I get, however, the more I want hope.  And that hope lies in the future.alanna-and-adam-strange

Comics helped me with this.  Adam Strange not only engaged with an alien world, but fell in love and married an alien.  The Legion of Super-Heroes posited a time when the whole universe would band together to make life better.

A lot of today’s best comics come from a hopeful place.  I’d include Saga  and Sex Criminals and even Bitch Planet as works that rouse the spirit.

Another science fiction writer I enjoy, William Gibson, is sometimes credited as one of the founders of the cyberpunk movement, which often painted a bleak future.  His most recent book, The Peripheral, has it’s share of dystopian prophecy, but ends up (SPOILER, maybe?) making the case that we can change the future.  We can make the world better.

A better world is worth the effort.  Especially if it includes George Clooney.aa19ac627923e9f171a6e379af4c6c36

Box Office Democracy: Tomorrowland

It’s profoundly irritating just how lifeless Tomorrowland is. I’m not even talking about how in the grand climax there was clearly no budget for extras so it just seems like three people fighting in a bunch of cavernous empty sets. I mean that one of the biggest movie stars of a generation joined forces with a director that could seemingly do no wrong and they made a movie that always seems like the next scene is the one where things are finally going to kick in to high gear, but instead it just sits in neutral and slowly sinks in to the mud. Tomorrowland is a promise of a future never fulfilled and I wish I could believe that was a really deep metaphor and not a punchless script.

There’s one really fantastic sequence in Tomorrowland set in the 1964 World’s Fair with a young boy presenting his entry in to an invention contest and proposing a thesis on the virtue of imagination and technology’s role in inspiring people to dream, we then get some coverage of the fair followed by our first peek in to the titular Tomorrowland. It’s a killer sequence, it’s funny, it’s compelling, it feels consistent with the ideas behind the theme park the inspired this film. Unfortunately, this is the first ten minutes of the film and it never gets back to that level again. Maybe we shouldn’t even be making movies inspired by theme park sections.

The remaining two hours of movie are just so spirit-destroyingly bland. Plucky young NASA fanatic Casey Newton is a character desperately in need of a character trait deeper than “really likes science” or maybe just a visual aesthetic more complex than “wears a hat.” Then there’s Athena, the young precocious British girl who exists solely to dole out secrets at the appropriate times and not get in the way at others. I’m getting quite sick of the precocious British children cliché and maybe the trope should be discarded completely if you feel the need to have the emotional climax of your film to be a prepubescent girl explaining what love means to a man in his 50s. It gets a little creepy. George Clooney is fine, I suppose, he only ever really performs grumpy and somewhat less grumpy but he has enough raw movie star magnetism to steal every scene he’s in. It feels like a waste of his talents but it also feels a bit like he got tricked in to being in this movie, like he met Brad Bird at a party and gushed about how much he loved Iron Giant and signed a blank contract. There’s no chance that’s the real story but I can’t believe Clooney either liked this script or needed this money.

Tomorrowland is disappointing most of all because it is the first misstep from Brad Bird. He’s had a 16-year run of directing exclusively excellent movies (ok Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol is only pretty good) and I wanted to believe he could do that forever. That’s the way I identify most with this movie: the same way George Clooney feels let down by the future utopia that never came, I feel like I’ve been let down by my idealized version of Bird. There are no cities with elevated multi-level pools and ample municipal jet packs, just as there are no Spielbergs who never made Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. We can’t live in a perfect world but we can try to live in an interesting one, and that is not one that includes Tomorrowland.

Martha Thomases: Doing The Comic Con-Con

Knitting YarnThere was one point at this year’s New York Comic Con when I almost said, out loud, “Do you know who I am?” That’s because I was having trouble getting my badge.

Here’s why I’m glad I didn’t:

  1. It’s a dick thing to say, the kind of thing that proves a person is self-absorbed to the point of obliviousness.
  2. I might have made a mistake when I registered, so the trouble might have been my fault.
  3. This had happened the day before. I am willing to bet that George Clooney didn’t ask if anyone knew who he was. At all times, I aspire to be at least as well-behaved as George Clooney.

Still, it’s an indication of how much things have changed in the short life of this show that I needed more than my smiling face to get in.

I understand that, with more than 150,000 people expected to attend, that it can be difficult for the staff to keep track of everybody. Unlike their other New York consumer show, Special Edition, NYCC is packed to the rafters.

There was a time when very few people wrote about comics, and I knew all of them. Even now, there aren’t that many people who write about comics every week. The (probably overworked and underpaid) person at press registration treated me like I was some kind of scam-artist trying to put one over on her.

Compare this to the way my pal, David Glanzer, says that San Diego treats press (and they get an even bigger crowd):

“I know press registration is a very difficult area. Heavens knows we’ve had our issues in the past. However we’ve actually received criticism for who we consider for press credentials. The truth is we have always considered independent press and bloggers/podcasters as our mainstream press. They are the ones who write about us throughout the year (not always positively LOL) while the bigger outlets really only tend to write about us once a year or so. The independents reporters have been with us since the start and they really still are the lifeblood for our publicity.”

The Javits Center is simply not designed for this many people. I mean, it’s not that well-designed to start-out with. Unlike, for example, the San Diego convention center, this has rather narrow hallways, and the exhibition floors are not close together. Under the best of circumstances, one must do a lot of walking. In this case, it’s nearly five Manhattan blocks (about a quarter mile) from one end of the building to the other.

When you add 150,000 people, it’s easy to create anxiety.

Still this year’s event seemed to run more smoothly than last year’s, at least according to initial feedback. There were lots of signs saying, “Cosplay does not equal consent,” and, while I don’t know if they make any difference (I’m not in costume), they made me feel more welcome. Perhaps in a related event, there seemed to be just about as many women in attendance as men.

The Mary Sue had a room for Geek Girls, which was a lovely respite in a sea of bodies. The room had signings and press materials, but also comfy chairs and books to read, and a crafts table to make friendship bracelets. I sat for a while with my knitting, talking to strangers about what they wanted to see and do. Truly a delight. I only regret that, by talking about it, I’m probably encouraging it to be more crowded next year.

Here are my suggestions to make this a better show:

  • Find a bigger venue, or additional venues. Not only was the exhibition floor jammed, and Artists Alley jammed, and various panel rooms jammed, but the hallways were always jammed as well. I didn’t go to any panels because there were lines everywhere and I was overwhelmed trying to figure out which mass of people were lines for which rooms.

The Javits Center is not designed to hold so many people. It was designed – poorly – for trade shows, not mass media events. More space would permit some room to breathe.

  • Set up special areas for cosplayers to change and to pose. It’s annoying to stand on line for half an hour to use the ladies room only to find that the stalls have been full of people changing, not peeing. Similarly, a lot of the clog on the show floor is people posing for pictures and expecting traffic to stop.

If there were special rooms set aside for changing, and special areas for pictures, then cosplayers and their admirers would have enough room to enjoy themselves, and traffic would flow more smoothly.

I don’t mean cosplayers should be segregated. I love seeing them randomly in the crowd (and on the subway). They make the event much more fun.

  • Now that fans are getting the message that harassment is not acceptable, can we teach them other aspects of crowd etiquette? For example, if you want to stop and talk to a friend, please step to the side. A bunch of people having a conversation in the middle of the aisle blocks the flow of traffic.

Maybe stop-lights at major intersections? I don’t know. I just want to be able to walk with a normal gait, instead of pivoting at a moment’s notice.

  • In general, we should remember that we are all humans in this together. Pay attention to your peripheral vision, people.

I get very short-tempered in crowds, but then I’ll see someone I know and be happy again. Klaus Janson talked with me about the blueberries at the Green Market. I brought the world’s most delicious matzo to fellow ComicMixer Marc Fishman and the Unshaven boys. I saw all kinds of creative new ideas for comics and illustration.

And then …

Some oblivious person with a backpack swiped against me hard enough to rip my sweater. My beautiful, one-of-a-kind hand-knit sweater.

Didn’t he know who I am?

 

Martha Thomases: #YesAllMen

I really really, really wanted to write about something funny this week. I mean, I read comics for fun and I presume that you do, too. A little escapist fantasy, a few minutes of relaxation, it’s all good, right?

And then this happened.

Now, I’m on record as saying that this is not an event with an easy explanation, nor a quick fix. And I’m not going to offer either one here.

However, I would like to talk about the little sliver of this issue that has been my obsession all year. And that is the way our society, and particularly our little corner of it in the nerd-pop culture, treats misogyny like something that boys get to do.

Apparently, the shooter in Santa Barbara was upset because he couldn’t get laid. It’s unclear how much he actually tried (as in, getting to know women, talking to them, etc.), but he was angry. Thanks to the Internet, he found an online community with which to share his frustrationsSpoiler Alert: Don’t read that link if you have a sensitive stomach.

Yes, they share the same sense of entitlement (and the same violent rape fantasies) as the men I’ve written about here, and here, just as the two most recent examples. Violent rape fantasies are ridiculously common.

I’m not the only one to notice. A recent post by Jeopardy champion Arthur Chu got a lot of links over the past week.

At this point, a lot of my male readers might be getting a tad defensive. “We’re not like that,” they say, and I hope it’s true. “It’s not our fault. And anyway, Rodgers killed a bunch of men, too.”

The murder of those men is every bit as tragic and senseless as the murder of the women. However, if you read what Rodgers (and his pals) actually say, it’s clear that women are the objects of their rage.

Not even women, not really. Just vaginas (and mouths) (and assholes) (and whatever other body parts fascinate any random guy). The rest of the woman is just the delivery system. Some dress up their hatred of women with religious or philosophical justifications, but the fact remains that they see women as a different — and lesser — species than men.

“Still,” my straw men mutter. “I’m not like that. It’s not all men.”

Some men beg to differ. You see, it’s not enough simply to avoid doing something horrible. You should also do everything you can to prevent other people from doing something horrible. You shouldn’t sit still while the man next to you makes a rude comment to a woman, nor let threats on the comments thread you’re reading go unanswered.

As Andrew O’Hehir said on Salon, “What troubles me is the extent to which many men seek to ignore or deflect all conversation about the specific nature of Elliot Rodger’s pathology, along with the evident fact that many women see that pathology as a ubiquitous social and cultural problem.”

Look, I’m not a perfect person, far from it, so I’m not holding myself up as an ideal. I want to have sex with people who have no interest in having sex with me, if they even know I exist. That’s really frustrating. Sometimes, I imagine revenge fantasies where these men learn how much they’ve missed. However, my fantasies don’t involve death and destruction. My fantasies are more likely to involve the look on George Clooney’s face when he sees me with Benedict Cumberbatch.

I’d like to see the comics community take a stand against bad behavior. I’d like to see an end to situations like this, which remain far too common. I’d like to see comic conventions feature panels for all genders about the cause and effect of these hatreds, and how we can combat them. Or at least some required etiquette classes.

And less whining. Oh, please, less whining.

 

Dennis O’Neil’s Gravity

O'Neil Art 131024Has Gravity pulled you in yet?

Okay, that was lame. But at least it served to usher us into the movie that provides this week’s blather. (Did I do it again? Oh, my!)

Gravity is, for the third straight week, the box office champ. Most people, including Mari and I, liked it. Most, but not all. I’m aware of two kinds of criticism, leveled at the film by two of the men I most respect, both of whom shall remain anonymous, not because I’m playing the “unnamed sources” game, but because I can’t quote them exactly.

First criticism was expressed last week by a much lauded novelist and critic.  He had compliments for the filmmaking, but mild complaints about the characters played by Sandra Bullock and George Clooney. Old hat. Too clichéd. The kind of cardboard that the art of cinema should be past by now.

Point taken. But a placid defense: the movie isn’t about the characters; they are devices, vehicles to move the narrative forward, given just enough backstory to save them from being total ciphers. They’re like the characters in old-fashioned detective stories – the lounge lizard, the jealous husband, the kindly vicar, the shrewd amateur sleuth, the scarlet woman. They exist as elements in a puzzle, like the X’s and O’s in a game of tic tac toe. And if that’s the kind of pleasure you’re after, the puzzle solving kind, Mr. X and Miss O will do.

Gravity, I will claim, is about state-of-the-art space travel and filmmaking itself, about the spectacular illusions directors are capable of these days. The story gives them an excuse for being presented in pretty darn fancy theaters and even manages to generate a little suspense. It does its job, and so do Ms. Bullock and Mr. Clooney.

The second criticism, proffered by one of our best public intellectuals, is a bit thornier. Our critic finds fault with the science the movie offers as fact, and, given his credentials and track record, I do not doubt for a second that his disapproval is justified.

When I worked the superhero dodge, I had a rule of thumb: Any acknowledged, verifiable fact must be accurate. So you don’t call a solar system a galaxy or have guys schlep unshielded radioactive ore without suffering consequences, or populate Mars with green hotties who swim in the canals. The idea was to avoid adding to the planet’s burden of misinformation because some folk, somewhere, are likely to believe your nonsense. But made-up technology – time travel, faster-than-light drives – sure, have it do whatever your plot needs it to do. At least until somebody invents time travel or star drives.

A tiny caveat: it’s nice if even your fabricated science has at least a distant acquaintance with something genuine, and the farther shores of speculative physics might provide a writer with a lot of inspiration.

Gravity doesn’t pretend to be a lesson in astrophysics, any more than it pretends to be a probe of the human condition. So, it entertains, and it has done its work. And, arguably, just portraying brainy people as cool and making general audiences aware of physics are services, a task our schools don’t seem to be doing very well. In a recent survey, high schoolers in the United States ranked 25th in math and science among their peers in 34 other nations. Ouch!

So, can we agree? Gravity is good, which should be a load off Isaac Newton’s mind. But I can’t help wishing that they’d gotten their facts straight.

THURSDAY AFTERNOON: The Tweeks!

FRIDAY MORNING: Martha Thomases!

 

The Point Radio: Sandra Bullock Lost In Space In GRAVITY

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Sandra Bullock is lost in space, literally, in ‎Alfonso Cuarón’s  new film GRAVITY. It was a totally new experience for Sandra and she shares her thoughts for us here, plus we go to the set of the new buzz worthy Fox comedy, BROOKLYN 99 and talk exclusively with serious star Melissa Fumero about having to live up to all the hype. Meanwhile, SHIELD scores big on TV, but, here comes GOTHAM.

THE POINT covers it 24/7! Take us ANYWHERE! The Point Radio App is now in the iTunes App store – and it’s FREE! Just search under “pop culture The Point”. The Point Radio  – 24 hours a day of pop culture fun for FREE. GO HERE and LISTEN FREE on any computer or on any other  mobile device with the Tune In Radio app – and follow us on Twitter @ThePointRadio.