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I just came across the new poster for Whatever Works on IMP Awards (check it by clicking the image below), and beyond the too-perfect Larry David pose, I'm struck by the utter lack of Woody Allen on the thing. Beyond the billing block and maybe an especially sharp sense of font, how would anyone know that this was the latest film from the guy who made Annie Hall and Manhattan?

It was the same thing with Vicky Cristina Barcelona, and I'm wondering if potentially interested people would find themselves turned off upon finding out just whose movie they've been lured into. It's the same sense of un-branding (non-branding? anti-branding?) that kept most passersby from realizing that Zack and Miri Make a Porno was a Kevin Smith joint, and really, if you're already past that title, is his presence in the trailers and posters going to keep you away?

If anything, might the name recognition lure a couple of more people to either film (not that Larry David fans probably aren't already fans of Woody Allen, and not that Kevin Smith films probably already know which new movie is his)? Have you ever been sold on a movie until you got a glimpse of the name at the helm? When? Where? Why?

Conor McPherson's The Eclipse had several suitors sniffing around as soon as the spooky tale made its world debut at Tribeca on April 24th, but in the end Magnolia Pictures won out with a mid-six figure deal for worldwide distribution rights.
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Sony Pictures Classics, Miramax, Lionsgate, and Roadside were all eyeing this story starring Ciaran Hinds, who won the Best Actor jury prize for her performance. Hinds plays Michael Farr, a widower and would-be writer in Cohb, Ireland, who is smitten with Lena, a horror author from out of town. Farr has quite a few things on his mind lately: the death of his wife, contending for Lena's affections with a smug American writer (Aidan Quinn), and the recent ghost he's been seeing.

Cinematical's Eric D. Snider wrote in his review of The Eclipse, "A widower dealing with grief, a romantic triangle, and an illicit affair are more than enough to fill one story. The addition of ghostly visions could have been a way to make the film stand out from its class; instead, those elements merely feel tacked on."

Interestingly enough, it's just that combination that had distributors talking, in the hopes that The Eclipse could appeal to both "genre" fans (i.e. fans of the horror and supernatural) and romance/drama fans. Who will really be lining up to buy tickets seems to be a big question mark for reviewers, but in a year when even Woody Allen's ballyhooed return to NYC fell flat, The Eclipse has, at the very least, gotten people talking. The Eclipse, which currently has no release date, is the first big Tribeca deal in several years.

The eighth edition of the Tribeca Film Festival drew to a close very late Sunday night after a full day of screenings. The slimmed-down fest was evidently somewhat easier for the press and public to navigate, and the good films still bobbed to the surface on their own merits.

Awards. The competition categories were decided upon by all-star juries, but the paying customers got their say as well. Raymond De Felitta's comedy City Island won the Audience Award, edging out Marshall Curry's doc Racing Dreams and Ron Carlson's historical epic Mascots vs. Midgets. (Just kidding on that last description, of course; see "Our Coverage" below.) Racing Dreams previously won the jury award for Best Documentary Feature. The top 10 audience favorites are listed at the fest site.

Deals. Magnolia Pictures picked up Conor McPherson's drama The Eclipse over the weekend. We'll have a separate story on this distribution deal.

Our Coverage. Erik Davis said that Stay Cool "leaps into your lap with its perky, original concept, but then slowly but surely fails to deliver ... well, pretty much everything." Eric D. Snider advises that Ti West's The House of the Devil "prefers slow-building tension over frequent bloodletting and mayhem," but when it does deliver on its promises, "Holy crap." (?!) Another title that seemingly sells itself, Midgets vs. Mascots turns out to be "an occasionally very funny but often very sloppy mockumentary that is far too eager to show us how taboo it is," according to The Snide.

You can review, bookmark, recommend, link to, chew over, and comment upon all of our coverage right here.

Twitter Talk. Just one concluding thought: "Tribeca winds down as the dividers at the AMC slowly get put away. The rain is God shedding a tear."

If you combine Jackass and Borat and remove all semblance of discipline or organization, you get something like Midgets vs Mascots, an occasionally very funny but often very sloppy mockumentary that is far too eager to show us how taboo it is.

The premise is that a Texas millionaire named Big Red (Richard Howland) has just died, and his will has unusual stipulations on how his fortune should be dispersed. Big Red was a little person and had great fondness for that group. He had also done work as a mascot early in his career, and always loved mascots. But as adult-film legend Ron Jeremy says, "Big Red knew there was no money in mascotting, so he did what any midget would do: porn." Yes, Big Red made his money producing skin flicks, many of which involved actors of his height.

Anyway, Big Red wants a team of five mascots to compete with a team of five midgets in a series of ridiculous games and stunts, with the winning squad getting $5 million. (Big Red's porn career is irrelevant, except that it gives the movie an excuse to show boobies.) He wants the team of little people to be coached by his average-height son, Little Richard (Mark Hapka), who hates midgets, and the mascots to be coached by his gold-digging third wife, Bonnie (Brittney Powell).

Auditions are held to find the competitors. The mascots chosen are a guy in an alligator suit, a Spartan, a cowboy sheriff, a bunny rabbit, and a taco (the kind that hands out fliers for a cheap Mexican restaurant). They generally do not take off their costumes, even when they're not competing. The midgets -- I'm using the word the movie uses most frequently -- are a kleptomaniac, a flamboyant gay guy, a swingin' bisexual man, an ordinary blonde woman, and Gary Coleman. Yes, Gary Coleman, as himself, or at least a version of himself.

The House of the Devil is a great name for a movie. It hearkens back to the days of grindhouse horror, when a film's title and its trailer told you basically everything you needed to know. Yet it's different from those movies, too, in that it prefers slow-building tension over frequent bloodletting and mayhem. You have to wait for "The House of the Devil" to deliver on its promises -- but when it does, holy crap. I know that isn't a very scholarly analysis, but seriously. Holy crap.

The film is set in the early 1980s, apparently, with appropriately synthesized rock on the soundtrack and lots of freeze-frames in the opening credits. Our perky young heroine, Samantha (Jocelin Donahue), is a college student who's sick of living in the dorms and is preparing to move into an apartment with her friend Megan (Greta Gerwig). Eager to earn some money to facilitate the move, Samantha responds to a flier posted on a campus bulletin board looking for a babysitter. Rather suspiciously (to me, anyway), the flier is blank except for a phone number and the words "BABYSITTER WANTED."

The clients are the Ulmans -- Mr. Ulman (Tom Noonan) is a tall, gentle-voiced man who uses a walking stick; his wife (Mary Woronov) is old-school sophisticated, a woman whose evening wear requires fur. Samantha learns when she arrives at the house -- a huge old isolated place, I needn't tell you -- that the babysitting duties will be slightly different from the norm, but it's not a deal-breaker. And the Ulmans are offering a lot of money.

In a ceremony held last night, the Tribeca Film Festival announced this year's winners of its competition categories. The top prizes went to Iranian drama About Elly for Best Narrative Feature and audience fave Racing Dreams for Best Documentary Feature.

About Elly, written and directed by Asghar Farhadi, revolves around a group of "old college pals" who reunite for a weekend by the sea, a friendly outing that turns serious when one of the women disappears. The jury (Bradley Cooper, Richard Fischoff, Todd Haynes, Meg Ryan, and Uma Thurman) called the Iranian movie "a seamless piece of ensemble filmmaking." Racing Dreams, directed by Marshall Curry, follows three go-kart racers, ranging in age from 11 to 13, who are competing for a national champiomship that's considered "a huge stepping stone to auto racing's big show-NASCAR." The jury (Liz Garbus, Henry Louis Gates, Jr., Whoopi Goldberg, Morgan Spurlock, and Brian Williams) declared it to be "a completely compelling, entertaining film of incredible quality."

For his Norwegian comedy North, director Rune Denstad Langlo was recognized as Best New Narrative Filmmaker, while Ciarán Hinds (The Eclipse) and Zoe Kazan (The Exploding Girl) were honored as Best Actor and Best Actress, respectively. In the documentary arena, Ian Olds won the award as Best New Documentary Filmmaker for Fixer: The Taking of Ajmal Naqshbandi, which tells the story of an Afghan "fixer" (defined as "someone hired by foreign journalists to facilitate the gathering of news stories") and the "dangerous and unseen world of wartime news gathering." The recently-acquired Defamation received a Special Jury Mention.

The complete list of award winners is available at the official site. The festival continues through May 3. Check out all of our coverage right here.

After Manure quietly (and not-so-quietly) stunk up the scene at the Sundance Film Festival, the Polish Brothers (Mark and Michael) have returned to the festival circuit with Stay Cool -- a film that leaps into your lap with its perky, original concept, but then slowly but surely fails to deliver ... well, pretty much everything. What we have here is an on-the-verge-of-40 novelist (Mark Polish) who returns to his hometown only to find himself stuck in a really bad, cliched '80s movie -- complete with two bonehead best friends, mean teachers, a moronic high school principal and a hardcore crush on that girl whose meat-head boyfriend is named Brad. And I don't mean cliched '80s movie in a bad way -- that's kinda the point with Stay Cool; our lovable, somewhat-awkward novelist learns that he must overcome the fears and regrets he's had since graduating 20 years ago by living his worst moments all over again.

Some have said Stay Cool is like 17 Again in reverse, which it sorta is -- except there's no magical, supernatural element here. Our guy just somehow finds himself re-living those weird, painful high school moments (as an adult) until he finally comes to grips with his past and his present, and, of course, manages to stay cool.

One week into the Tribeca Film Festival (TFF) and the screenings keep humming along. It's probably a softer buzz than previous years; some attendees have even dared to take a night or two off to care for other, personal matters (like sleep) -- something you'd never hear about at Sundance, Cannes, or Toronto. Perhaps that's a consequence of the festival being held in such a costly city: very expensive for out-of-towners to cover, and locals can't get away from their personal lives the same as when they're traveling.

Scene. Steven Soderbergh's The Girlfriend Experience premiered on Tuesday evening (the post-screening party featured chocolate-covered bacon), and tonight Soderbergh and star Sasha Grey shared a panel to discuss the film. Eric Bana made an appearance in support of Love the Beast, a documentary he directed about his favorite car, and Zachary Quinto chatted with him at a party in the East Village. Matthew Broderick and Sarah Jessica Parker walked the red carpet for Joshua Goldin's Wonderful World, in which Broderick stars. Racing Dreams, currently leading the Audience Awards voting, is apparently not a Go-Kart movie, as we have previously described it. Sorry!

Our Coverage. Eric D. Snider reviewed Raymond De Felitta's City Island ("a merry comedy about one of those quarrelsome Italian-American families where everybody fights a lot but ultimately loves one another") and Conor McPherson's The Eclipse ("an unusual mixture of somber character drama and supernatural horror"). Erik Davis took a critical look at Which Way Home ("a riveting documentary that taps into the same concept and themes of Sin Nombre, except it's all real and it's all heartbreaking to watch") and gave us a glimpse of the TFF flasher and other "bumps." Check out all of our coverage right here.

Just off the Bronx, in Long Island Sound, is a spit of land called City Island. It's an obscure place, even to New Yorkers, which probably explains how it retains the look of a quaint New England fishing village despite being part of the biggest city in America.

The movie called City Island is set there, though it could have been called anything and set anywhere. Written and directed by Raymond De Felitta, it's a merry comedy about one of those quarrelsome Italian-American families where everybody fights a lot but ultimately loves one another. In real life, I find relationships with loud, argumentative people exhausting. In the movies, though, they can be a lot of fun to watch.

There are four people in the Rizzo family, each with a handful of secrets ranging from deep and dark to shallow and merely opaque. The patriarch, Vince (Andy Garcia), is a prison guard who's been taking acting classes in the hopes of becoming a movie star; he keeps it hidden from his wife, Joyce (Julianna Margulies), because he assumes she'd think it was a waste of time. Their teenage son, Vinnie (Ezra Miller), is developing a fetish for morbidly obese women, including the one across the street. His older sister, Vivian (Dominik Garcia-Lorido, Andy Garcia's real daughter), supposedly away at college, is working part-time as a stripper. Everyone is a smoker, and everyone hides it from everyone else. Vince will be poking his head through the upstairs bathroom's skylight to catch a few puffs while his son is 30 feet away doing the same thing on the balcony, each out of the other's view.

Each year the Tribeca Film Festival (along with other fests, like SXSW and Sundance) screen these mini short films/skits prior to each movie. I like to call them "bumps", and their purpose is to promote the festival in some way while also giving you a chuckle or three. When it comes to Tribeca's "bumps", they usually have something to do with how wacky and crazy New York City is -- and this year's "bump" is exactly that: Two girls walking through the park are approached by a flasher and hilarity ensues.

Usually I'll laugh at these for the first couple of times, but after watching 15-or-so movies (and memorizing the "bumps" word for word), you kinda want to strangle everyone involved. But it's cool, they really are harmless fun, and this year's "bump" seems to be getting a good response from each audience I see it with. Check out Flasher below, then head after the jump for some of my favorite Tribeca Fest "bumps" throughout the years. More of our Tribeca Film Festival coverage can be found over here.