Things are looking "Up."

There's no question that you will see Up, the sublime Pixar animation about a septuagenarian grouch and a pesky kid who sail to the Orinoco in a Victorian house hoisted by a bouquet of helium balloons. The only questions are when and how.

When is up to you. How is a more delicate matter. Should you see it in 3-D? I chose not to. For me, while 3-D glasses deepen spatial perspectives, they wash out the evocative colors of animated films. (For this reason, I vastly preferred Coraline in its "flat," or 2-D version, than in 3-D glasses.) Many others have experienced the same problem. Although Roger Ebert is agnostic about the preferable format, here's what he has to say:

"But let me gently mention one of the film's qualities that is likely to be diminished by 3D: Its subtle and beautiful  color palette. Up, like Finding Nemo, Toy Story, Shrek and The Lion King,   uses colors in  a way  particularly suited to its content."

While the so-called "Pixar guys" -- John Lasseter, Andrew Stanton, Brad Bird and Pete Docter -- are avowed fans of the legendary Japanese anime master Hayao Miyazaki, Up is the first Pixar movie to approximate the watercolor transparency of Miyazaki's images.

Your thoughts? Consider this an open thread to talk about your experience of 3-D, animation and Pixar v. Disney and Dreamworks.

Woody Allen and wife, Soon-Yi, at the New York premiere of "Whatever Works."

If you're fascinated in the roots of Jewish humor -- or the humor of Jewish roots -- you must read Mark Harris' terrific piece in New York Magazine about Woody Allen and Larry David and their new movie, Whatever Works, originally written by Allen in the '70s for Zero Mostel and repurposed for David. If the film is half as funny as Harris' article, which wonders, if the archetypal funny/sad Jewish guy "still has any relevance in an age when American Jews don’t feel so bad about things, except on Yom Kippur," it'll be better than three of Allen's last four films.

Except for Vicky Cristina Barcelona, a light-filled account of a pragmatist and a romantic in Spain, I've been disappointed in Allen's recent work. Match Point and Scoop felt like tragic and comic interpolations of the murder and opportunism, idealism and romance themes played so superbly in Crimes and Misdemeanors. Here's hoping that Allen's return to his beloved Manhattan is a restorative.

Not that you asked, but the Allen movies that most move me are from his middle period that started with Annie Hall (1977) and ended with Crimes (1989). By then, he had done his "earlier, funny" genre parodies (as a character in Stardust Memories puts it) and emerged as a filmmaker with his own style and voice. (At a tribute to Bob Hope that Allen put together in the 1970s for Lincoln Center, he admitted to being horrified at the extent to which he had stolen Hope's one-liners and persona as a self-conscious schnook.) My top-five Allens are Annie, Manhattan, Purple Rose of Cairo, Crimes and Deconstructing Harry. Everyone Says I Love You is a not-so-guilty pleasure: I love hearing Ed Norton and Tim Roth sing and watching Goldie Hawn dance. You?

Keenen Ivory Wayans in "I'm Gonna Git You Sucka"

Readers frequently ask about my favorite movie critic. Often, the most pointed movie criticism is a parody that affectionately examines the genre cliches.  As cheap wine is to vintage, spoofs are a cruder form of comedy than satire.  But they do the trick.

Tomorrow's release of Dance Flick, a giggleworthy Wayans clan collaboration that tickles the conventions of teen musicals such as Save the Last Dance, Step Up and High School Musical, inspires thoughts of favorite parodies perfect for Memorial Day laughs.

The acknowledged spoofmasters are Woody Allen, Mel Brooks, Steve Martin, the Monty Python gang, Mike Myers, the Wayanses, the Zucker/Abrahams/Zucker trio behind the Naked Gun flicks, and mock-documentarians Christopher Guest, Michael McKean and Harry Shearer of Spinal Tap and Mighty Wind infamy.

Allen's Love & Death spoofs Tolstoy by way of Ingmar Bergman, but really it's a Bob Hope comedy name-checking Russian literary giants while making fun of the pretentious people who would do so. Brooks' Blazing Saddles, the first and funniest of his many spoofs, mocks the wagon trains, saloon brawls and campfire confessionals of movie Westerns. Martin's Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid is the sunniest and funniest of film noir parodies, including clips from noir classics. Monty Python's irreverent Life of Brian is the faux-Biblical of a man whose life and death comically parallels that of Jesus. Is there a more affectionate takedown of James Bond movies than Mike Myers' Austin Powers series of the guy who loves to shag and spy? Keenen Ivory Wayans' I'm Gonna Get You Sucka sends up Blaxploitation flicks, with Wayans as a private dick named Jack Spade out to avenge his brother's death by "OG" (overdose by gold chains). Of the ZAZ parodies, which have the highest laugh-per-ratio in the history of Hollywood, my favorite is Naked Gun 33 1/3, simply because Leslie Nielsen mugging cracks me up. And in This is Spinal Tap, about a headbangers who think there's a fine line between "sexy" and "sexist," Guest and company amp the laughs up to 11. 

Any fave spoofs? 

Christian Bale, preparing to meet his unmaker in Terminator: Salvation.

With this week's release of Terminator: Salvation, a lot of moviegoers will be reconsidering the career of Christian Bale, a subtle underplayer who is not the kind of guy you'd expect to find in a summer blockbuster like the Terminator or Batman, but hey, neither are Johnny Depp or Robert Downey, Jr. I think this character assassination is just plain mean. Not to mention wrongheaded.

Ever since Bale surfaced in Empire of the Sun (1987), registering one of the best performances ever by a child actor (he really conveyed his character's alienation and dreams as a kid interned in a Japanese concentration camp during World War II) he's had a remarkable ride, mostly in independent movies where his low-key work is best appreciated. Consider his filmography, He was the wistful boy unionist of Newsies, singing about Santa Fe and dancing in New York's Park Row; a London teen of uncertain sexual preference, decisively stamped by the gender-bending milieu of glam-rock in The Velvet Goldmine; Everygirl's first romantic hero, tender Laurie Laurence in Little Women; Everywoman's horror date,  American Psycho; a guilty manorexic in the intense The Machinist; gentle planter John Rolfe, Pocahontas' husband, in The New World; the disciplined psychoanalyst son of a hippie mom in Laurel Canyon (his richest performance); the bounty-hunting father, quietly facing down the showy Russell Crowe in 3:10 to Yuma; and of course, the mixed-up Bruce Wayne and his alter ego in Batman Begins and The Dark Knight. (I've forgotten Rescue Dawn, where he was also terrific.) I can't think of another actor of his generation who has exhibited so much range -- and restraint.

Bale's whispery voice, cut-glass cheekbones and 100-mile stare is reminiscent of Henry Fonda and Clint Eastwood, actor/stars more reliant on their guts than their charisma. Though I like that he doesn't turn up the volume in Batman and Terminator, the quiet of his acting is easily drowned out  by the clank and grind of the machinery in these Big Machine movies. You? Are you a Bale fan, agnostic, hater? Why?

John Cusack in "High Fidelity," compiling his Top-Five list of favorite movie musical cues.

Cameron Crowe, the onetime pop critic whose film semiautobiography Almost Famous recalled his rock initiation while on the road with a Led Zeppelin-like band, compiled an affectionate list of his favorite musical moments in movies for Empire magazine. Two of his top 12 or so overlapped with my favorites: Marvin Gaye's snazzy, jazzy title song "Trouble Man," and Harry Nilsson's "Jump Into the Fire," used in GoodFellas as Ray Liotta tries to multitask and melts down instead.

Inspired by Crowe's list, I compiled my own, limiting myself to movies from the last 25 years. There are two Crowe films on it.

 1) Almost Famous: A fractious band and their fractious groupies come together while singing Elton John's "Tiny Dancer."

2) Babe: Camille St. Saens' "Carnival of the Animals," both its orchestral and sung version, is a lovely tribute to the peaceable kingdom of humans, farm animals and pets.

3) Crimes and Misdeameanors: Woody Allen's seriocomedy ends with "I'll Be Seeing You," as an ophthalmologist with cloudy moral vision confesses to a dicumentarian with keen insight.

4) Garden State: Zero 7's "In the Waiting Line" is on the soundtrack during a sequence at an an orgiastic party where everyone is buzzed and manic (and in fast-motion), while Zach Braff is buzzed and detached, unable to synchronize his mood to others.

5) GoodFellas  (see above).

6) High Fidelity: The film ends as John Cusack lays down the first track on the mix tape for his beloved: Stevie Wonder's "I Believe When I Fal lin Love it Will Be Forever."

7) Love, Actually: The Beach Boys' "God Only Knows" ties up this omnibus story of types of love, and Joni Mitchell's "Both Sides Now" is used in a devastating sequence as Emma Thompson contemplates her marriage.

8) Malcolm X: Sam Cooke's "A Change is Gonna Come" signals Malcolm's transfiguration as he's on his way to the Audubon Ballroom.

9) The New World: Richard Wagner's " Das Rheingold "underscores sequences in which explorer John Smith (Colin Farrell) encounters the Native American Rhinemaiden, Pocahontas (Q'orianka Kilcher)

10) Say Anything: . John Cusack hoists his boom box to play Peter Gabriel's "In Your Eyes" for Ione Skye, because the song says what he cannot.

I also love the use of Scott Joplin's piano rags to set the tone, sometimes jaunty, sometimes elegiac, in The Sting; Foreigner's "Urgent" (with Junior Walker's killer sax riff) in Desperately Seeking Susan, as Madonna skulks out of an Atlantic City hotel room and Jack Black's hilarious one-man reconstitution of famous movie soundtracks in the DVD-store scene in The Holiday.

Your favorites?

Can Philadelphia support two international film festivals?

Some of you missed Saturday's story about the divorce between TLA -- producer of the Philadelphia Film Festival -- and its board, The Philadelphia Film Society (PFS). Citing irreconcilable differences, the TLA and PFS have split and the city will have two movie extravaganzas. The TLA-run CineFest will continue to be held in Spring and PFS-run Philadelphia Film Festival will be held in Fall, beginning October 2010.

Many cities have multiple film festivals (New York has Gotham, New York Film Festival and Tribeca). Movie geekdom runs pretty deep here, and there is a devoted -- and voracious -- base for all things cinematic in the region. Because of this, I'm guessing the city can support two international film fests. What I like about the New York Film Festival is its small and select nature (usually two dozen titles) and the filmmaker Q & As. What I like about the Toronto Film Festival is the world premieres and the sense that the entire city is taking time off to go to the movies. What I like about Telluride is that its one long weekend and filmmakers are in attendance and the discussions (both formal and informal) are very rich.

I'd like to hear your thoughts. Are you a Philadelphia Film Fest regular? What do you like about it? Not like? What kinds of movies and related events would you like to see? Are your movie needs being served?

Sigourney Weaver takes aim at J.J. Abrams

In Surf City there were 10 girls to every guy. In Star Trek, the ratio is the reverse, as Jen Weiner points out in this affectionate rant wondering where the girls are in J.J. Abrams' "reboot" of the franchise. While I greatly enjoyed the movie featuring Zoe Saldana as Uhura, I likewise wondered why there weren't more women in the 23rd century. Hey, J.J., movie history is rich with women in space. Think Sigourney Weaver in the Aliens series, Jodie Foster in Contact, Anne Francis in Forbidden Planet, Connie Nielsen in Mission to Mars, and of course, Zsa Zsa Gabor in The Queen of Outer Space. Should we send Sigourney to Abrams' office to raise consciousness and Cain? Your thoughts? Fave femme in space?

According to this report, Martin Scorsese -- perhaps the most musically minded of working directors (The Last Waltz, No Direction Home) has signed on to do a Frank Sinatra biopic. I vaguely remember him previously being attached to this project some 20 years ago and announcing that Ray Liotta would play Old Blue Eyes.

But who could play Young Blue Eyes? Scorsese loves Leonardo Di Caprio -- and vice-versa -- but I'm not feeling that. I know there will be partisans of Zac Efron and James Marsden (both okay singers, but neither approaching Sinatra range). Who would you cast?

Ewan McGregor as the Camerlengo in Ron Howard's Angels and Demons.

Despite showcasing some of the most ravishing examples of religious architecture and statuary in Christendom -- including the Pantheon in Rome  -- Angels and Demons, ranks considerably higher on the suspense-ometer than the spiritual-ometer.

As a thriller,  Ron Howard's sequel to The Da Vinci Code is effective. But it lacks those qualities -- an internal struggle, a meditative pace and space, and moral conversion -- basic to the spiritual journey, whether it be Groundhog Day or Diary of a Country Priest.

My personal spiritual film festival would definitely include Agnieszka Holland's The Third Miracle  (1999 ),  a surprising film starring Ed Harris a priest whose faith is shaken -- and reaffirmed -- when he investigates the life of a woman proposed for saitnhood. And of course Niki Caro's Whale Rider (2003), with Keisha Castle-Hughes as the Maori girl who challenges tribal tradition and contends for the role as shaman. (I also like Castle-Hughes as the Blessed Virgin in Catherine Hardwicke's The Nativity Story.) All the films of Robert Bresson would be there, but especially Country Priest (1950) and L'Argent (1983). And while my mind is in France, Alan Cavalier's Therese (1986), is a charming film about a girl who became a saint. And, goodness knows, so would Harold Ramis' Groundhog Day (1993), a Bill Murray comedy about moral self-improvement that strikes Buddhist, Christian and Jewish chords. Kim Ki-Duk's transcendent Spring, Summer, Fall Winter...and Spring (2004) is a powerful story about a Buddhist monk. Woody Allen's Crimes and Misdemeanors ( 1989 ) is a devastating story about an agnostic and his accidental reaffirmation.

Carl Theodor Dreyer's  deeply felt  Ordet (1955), bridges traditional Christianity and personal spirituality, as does Gabriel Axel's remarkable Babette's Feast (1987), likewise from Denmark. Both film versions of Graham Greene's The End of the Affair -- the 1955 one with Deborah Kerr and John Mills and the 1999 one with Julianne Moore and Ralph Fiennes -- rock me to my core. Kerr played nuns several time but none is as moving as her sister in Black Narcissus. (1947). Ian Charleson's performance as Scottish missionary -- and Olympic runner -- Eric Liddell in Chariots of Fire (1981) is inexplicably moving. My formative spiritual films both star Hayley Mills: In Whistle Down the Wind (1961, a movie based on a book by her mother), she is a child who mistakes a murderer for Jesus. And in The Trouble With Angels (1967), a surprisingly profound  Ida Lupino comedy about teen shenanigans in a convent school, Mills' unexpected spiritual growth is remarkable.

What's in your spiritual film festival?