
Arguably the biggest perk of being a movie critic - besides the untold riches - is seeing cool movies before everyone else. I've already screened "Iron Man" which doesn't open until May 2 (I just can't blog about it yet as a professional courtesy to the studio behind it).
But sneak previews happen all over the country, and here's how you can catch one near you. Visit http://www.filmmetro.com/ and sign up to learn about the latest screenings coming your way. Also check your local newspapers and radio stations for ticket giveaways. I've seen them in both Denver and Washington, D.C., and I imagine other cities offer similar perks. Did I mention these screenings are free?
These previews usually take place on the Tuesday before a film opens, but they can be scheduled Monday-Thursday, and sometimes on a Saturday if the film appeals to the kiddie set.
And please show up early. The powers that be give out many more passes than theater seats, and even obscure screenings fill up fast (although I recall a movie publicist begging people to come see "The Adventures of Pluto Nash" a few years ago). And if Will Smith is in the movie, better get there an hour or more before showtime. Otherwise you'll wait ... and wait ... and likely go home without seeing the flick.
These screenings set aside a few rows for reviewing press - and if you see critics using a book light or other device to illuminate their notepad, feel free to fling concession candy at them.

Yet here I am, in the final lap of my thirties, and that familiar sensation is coming over me as the holidays approach. I must watch Rudolph, the Burgermeister and every other stop-motion character in the Christmas canon. Again. That's roughly 34 years viewing the same sappy specials, and I'm not tired of any of them. Not "Rudolph," not "Santa Claus is Coming to Town," and certainly not "The Year Without a Santa Claus."
Try telling a stranger in a nasally whine, "I wanna be a dentist" a la Hermey the Elf and expect a slow but sure grin. At least I know I'm not alone. Warner Home Video re-released a gaggle of these specials last month in time for the holiday season. "The Christmas Television Favorites" collection is a grab-bag featuring the aforementioned "Year," "How the Grinch Stole Christmas Deluxe Edition," "Horton Hears a Who!," "Rudolph's Shiny New Year," "Nestor the Long-Eared Christmas Donkey," "Frosty's Winter Wonderland," "'Twas the Night Before Christmas" and "Rudolph and Frosty's Christmas in July."
The best of the bunch is "The Year without a Santa Claus." The special finds Kris Kringle (voiced by Mickey Rooney at his crusty best) taking December 24th off, an announcement which forces two trouble-making elves to take action.
The specials all don't rise to the level of "Year," and some offer crude, conventional animation. Still, the four-disc set is a holiday treat for young and old alike. The wizards at Rankin/Bass brought these specials to life primarily during the 1960s and '70s, and they hold up remarkably well despite the subsequent leaps in computer wizardry. While Paramount is busy retooling "Star Trek's" musty effects for a new generation, these Christmas nuggets need no facelifts.
Best of all, the DVD set offer a behind-the-scenes glimpse at the stories' creation. We hear the voice behind Jangle the Elf speak his mind, as well as the illustrators who sketched the Heat Miser and co. And then there's Arthur Rankin, Jr. himself, now an elderly man but one who seems eternally pleased his company's handiwork lives on. A second featurette, detailing just how these marvels move, is less illuminating. It's still must-see TV for anyone unfamiliar with the process. Stop-motion animation, which gave life to Gumby, King Kong and the California Raisins, involves moving figurines ever so slightly, then photographing them again and again until they mimic movement when seen in rapid fashion. Twenty-four frames make up a single second of film. Think of that the next time you watch Santa Claus sneezing his way through a thick winter cold.
Networks still broadcast "Rudolph," "Santa" and the rest, often sandwiched between newer specials hoping to clone their essential sweetness. To these eyes, they never come close.
Read a bizarre quote from actor-turned-director Peter Berg in Entertainment Weekly about his new film, "The Kingdom." Berg heard major applause at the tail end of a test screening of the film, which details a military effort to squash a terrorist cell. Rather than count his blessings he cursed his good fortune.
''I was nervous it would be perceived as a jingoistic piece of propaganda, which I certainly didn't intend,'' says the actor- turned-director, hunched over an outdoor table at a shabby Santa Monica coffeehouse. ''I thought, 'Am I experiencing American bloodlust?'''
Now, I understand if a director didn't want to make a gung-ho movie about the Iraq War. But I'm all for movies allowing audiences a measure of satisfaction as a gaggle of terrorists bites the dust (I'm assuming that's the theme of the sequence in question, but I haven't seen the film yet). Didn't the U.S. use Hollywood to rally the home front during World War II? Were we worried at the time if we were experiencing "American bloodlust" if we cheered as a U.S. actor took down a gaggle of Nazi soldiers? And you could argue said soldiers may have been just following orders, but today's terrorists are the epitome of evil. Can't we celebrate taking a few of them out in a Hollywood fiction without feeling a pang of guilt?
Is all propaganda created equal?
The Black Eyed Peas' will.i.am wants to save Mother Earth. Really. He just has a funny way of getting his Al Gore bona fides in order. Witness his recent comments to Radar magazine: On Live Earth:
“When Al Gore asked me to perform, I was like, ‘Wow, that sounds great, people coming together to stand for something.” But then I was like, ‘Wait a second, it’s sort of hypocritical to throw a concert. Everyone there is going to be drinking water out of plastic bottles.’ It can’t be the consumer that changes the world, it has to be governments that make laws for corporations and demand they produce alternatives. We won’t stop buying things, so give us something else to [expletive] buy!” On turning Black Eyed Peas into a “global brand”: “People don’t mind doing a song that goes on the radio right after a commercial. That money comes from Jergens and Coke. If your song gets huge, soon you’re playing the Staples Center, which is branded, too. So brands help bands from the beginning. I was like, ‘Dude, I’ve always liked Dr Pepper, and they’re going to let me play my music.’ So [expletive] it.”
Uh, will ... I think they serve Dr. Pepper in plastic bottles.

Think the theatrical world begins and ends in either New York or Los Angeles? The fine folks at The Purple Rose Theatre Company beg to differ.
The Chelsea, Mich.-based company gives Midwestern actors, playwrights and theatrical managers the “chance to develop and use their craft,” says Michigan native Kelly Anne Vieau. The 30-year-old recently began a one-year apprenticeship with the theatre, created in 1991 by Jeff Daniels (“Terms of Endearment,” “The Lookout”).
“I never thought that I would be sitting here, talking about how I work in a professional theater, in Michigan!,” she says via e-mail.
Vieau dabbled in theater throughout elementary and high school, chiefly as an actress. She wanted a career in the dramatic arts, but she says she wasn’t taken seriously as a Saginaw, Mich. resident.
She considered attending Michigan State’s theater program, but financial concerns made her reconsider. She would keep busy with community theater, later graduating with honors from Saginaw Valley State University‘s theater department.
But what’s a Midwestern drama lover to do after that?
Enter The Purple Rose Theatre Company, named after one of Daniels‘ better known films, Woody Allen‘s “The Purple Rose of Cairo.”
Vieau’s apprenticeship began earlier this month. “We are there to learn every possible aspect of working in a professional theater. That includes lights, sound, box office, stage management, working in the shop, administration, front of the house and so much more,” she says.
She hopes to become an equity stage manager at some point. “I always thought that I was going to be this famous actress with my name in lights,“ she says. As she grew older, and learned more about what makes a show tick, she changed her focus to behind the scenes. Her fellow theater mates hail primarily from Michigan, more specifically Kalamazoo and Detroit, and a few call Ohio home.
Vieau isn’t averse to working in New York one day.
“I don't think that I want to spend the rest of my life there,” she says. “My family is here and I like the area that I am living in - southeastern Michigan. In a perfect world, I just want to work in the theater!"