Recommend a new or newish film you've seen fairly recently.

But, it didn't strike you, that these people were so vociferous in their unhappiness with their lives - but with no real examination of the problems and trials and tribulations that others must go through, instead presented as some sort of ideal?

I suppose I also had a hard time with the movie, b/c I have a very low opinion of infidelity. I was filled with contempt for both main characters and their inability to imagine how bad life could be for other folks, and their unwillingness to do what was necessary to make themselves happy in life, instead choosing to cause harm to those around them.

Cycloptichorn

Richard Nixon's reputation was in part created by television through broadcasts of the House Un-American Activities Committee hearings in the 1940s. His bacon was saved in 1952 when, facing disgrace over the exposure of a slush fund, his grotesquely sentimental TV Checkers speech put him back on the presidential ticket as Eisenhower's running mate. The debates with Kennedy lost him the 1960 election. In 1977, he was finally sunk when David Frost, in the course of four 90-minute TV interviews, led him into saying on Watergate that "when the President does it, that means that it is not illegal" (a disreputable statement now in every reputable dictionary of quotations) and apologising for his actions. ... <cont>

Clint Eastwood has hinted that his role as bigoted Korean War veteran Walt Kowalski " a gun-toting widower living in Detroit near the struggling Ford auto plant and even nearer to the Asian immigrants crowding him out of his run-down, racially mixed hood " may be his last role as an actor. Eastwood, 78, has two Oscars for directing Unforgiven and Million Dollar Baby, and two nominations for starring in them. But an Oscar for acting? Not yet. Get busy, Academy.

I don't think Eastwood will ever turn down a juicy role. But Gran Torino, named after the 1972 car that Walt garages and polishes like a symbol of his idealized past, is a humdinger of a valedictory. Directed by Eastwood from a script by newcomer Nick Schenk, Gran Torino is Eastwood's hell-raising salute to every hardass he's ever played. Cranky Walt often communicates in a growl that sounds like a demon in need of an exorcist (wait till you hear Eastwood rasp a few bars of the film's memorable title song). Walt squints at the Hmong family next door, especially Thao (Bee Vang), a teen with a rustler's eye on the Torino. Thao's smart-mouth sister, Sue (the wonderful Ahney Her), can defrost Walt with a beer and food that isn't his usual beef jerky, but only Walt's dog, Daisy, dares to get too close. Cocking his rifle when gangbangers intrude on his territory, Walt snarls, "Get. Off. My. Lawn." Terrific stuff. And it gets better when Walt confronts some hoods playing grabass with Sue: "Ever notice how you come across somebody once in a while that you shouldn't have messed with? That's me." ... cont ...

MsO & all: It was the as-ifs in Gran Torino that do all the damage for me. I kept sitting there saying "Wha?" All of a sudden he likes Hmong food?" And the whole sequence of the kid working for him is screwed up. Very bad editing. I about walked out twice.

With pragmatism and guts, Milk fought an ugly world of bigotry. On screen, his career begins in a euphoric shower of chads and ends in a candlelit vigil-procession. But his murder in 1978 doesn't look like a straightforward martyrdom for gay rights. He was shot by fellow official Dan White - played by Josh Brolin - a conservative with whom Milk was friendly and discussed political deals, but who appears to have conceived an envious, stalkerish fascination for Milk's exuberant public successes, and who Van Sant suggests was struggling with his own unresolved sexuality. White is played by Brolin with a subtle yet potent topnote of butch/camp, a performance to set thoughtfully alongside his portrayal of George W Bush. His screen presence generates real heat.

In fact, I couldn't help thinking that the real story was happening behind our backs: the complex relationship of Harvey Milk and Dan White. I'm not suggesting that Lee Harvey Oswald should get equal time in any Kennedy story, but I wonder if more interestingly this couldn't have been a Van Sant biopic of two men, not one? Could this have been a hidden story of obsession and thwarted love running in tandem with conservative America's slow and resentful acknowledgement of the powerful gay-rights voting bloc? A story like this would have been less of an awards-magnet, less emotionally and politically correct but, I think, more interesting.