Spill the wine

Sideways

(2004)

OK, look, I never denied it: my cinematic critical standards are only slightly less unsophisticated than my critical standards in wine, but when a film contains two of the all-time great scenes of self-mortification (Miles drunk-dialing his ex, Miles guzzling from the spit bucket) and a scene of connection so beautiful and true (Miles and Maya talking wine on the porch) that it makes me teary even without having had any wine (oh, don't ask why; oh, don't ask why), what more can you ask?

I guess you could ask for sad, funny truth throughout, humanity crushed like a grape and sometimes gone a little vinegary, and that's here too. And two or three breakout acting performances--and, let's just say, a whole that comes as close to perfection as maybe the best director of his generation has come so far. Damn, this is a good pour.

But now I've had all the Payne I can take until at least 18 November, when The Descendants has its limited release; "just how limited" is a question that figures to nag me until the 15th, when I should be able to check the downtown weekend openings.