Who you gonna call…if Sigourney Weaver says no to reprising her role as Dana Barrett, cellist-next-door and vessel-for-demons in a planned third installment of Ghostbusters? According to the MTV movies blog, the rest of the original cast have already signed up; moviegoers will once again be subjected to Bill Murray ecto-plasming his masculine wiles over some poor dame who may or may not turn out to be Weaver. Given that he and his partners in slime have aged some 20-odd years since they first crossed streams, actor, writer and paranormal expert Dan Aykroyd has said that the cast will also include some fresher faces. He’s tight-lipped as to who those actors will be, although come to think of it, Zac Efron—or one of the many Efronites out there—would be about the right age to play Barrett’s now-grown tot, Oscar. Damn, we feel old.

TONY’s got a brand new blog, The Frame-Up, which you should have already bookmarked and told all your friends about. I know you said you did. But did you really? Also, we have a new critic, Keith Uhlich. Keith is brilliant and punchy. Indeed, he just punched me, brilliantly. He was watching the Oscars last night too. We chatted about it.

Josh: Jai Ho, Keith.
Keith: Jai Ho!
J: Shouldn’t that be an all-purpose greeting?
K: I just like that it rhymes with J.Lo.
J: So you are the new film critic here at TONY. Let’s hear your esteemed views on last night.
K: My fave moment was the Indian musical number, because I was able to cut loose.
J: OMG, do you have those big drums in your house? Read more »

And here we go. Our participants: Film Editor David Fear, the delightfully wry Anna King and yours truly, Senior Film Writer Joshua Rothkopf. This live-blog will be expanding every few minutes with new entries—and new Algonquin-worthy witticisms. So find that “refresh” button on your browser and make friends with it. Ask it out. Be respectful, but charming.
[7:45 Ah, the preshow. Barbara Walters is interviewing Mickey Rourke.]
Anna: When do we get to see the girls on the red carpet in their pretty frocks?
Josh: Won’t be long, m’dear. Do you know anyone there?
A: Besides Angelina?
J: Ah yes. Your buddy Angie. Do you think if Angelina wins, she’ll thank you?
A: Yes, but not verbally. A secret nod.
J: Here Barbara goes.
A: He’s twitching, she’s blinking.
J: Rourke is much smarter than he lets on.
A: How so?
J: He really responds to questions. He doesn’t seem preprogrammed
A: The Big Question:
J: ARE THE DEMONS GONE? Are yours gone, Anna?
A: My demons are responding to therapy, thanks for asking.
J: “Ya can’t eat it, ya can’t fuck it and it won’t get ya into heaven.”
A: So Mickey says about an Oscar.
J: I’m pretty sure Diablo Cody fucked hers. Read more »

A harbinger of tonight? Yesterday, Mickey Rourke accepted the Independent Spirit award with a five-minute speech that should be studied for its magnificent inappropriateness. The throwaway lines are priceless (thanking the attractive female presenter standing next to Laura Dern and a doubled-over Philip Seymour Hoffman: “I don’t know what you do, honey”). So is Rourke’s insouciance and sheer amount profanity. It’s fair to say he reminded everyone—including a visibly stunned Anne Hathaway—what independent spirit really is. Check it out. And be here tonight for Team Film’s live-blogging of the Big Show.

Welcome to The Frame-Up, TONY’s freshly christened and straight-outta-the-birth-canal film blog. (We were having some identity issues within the general TONY blog, so this feels much better, thank you.) Expect lots in the way of news and views, all from our decidedly shrewd and mouthy perspective. Take a look around. But the big news: Tomorrow comes Oscars live-blogging. Be here then, starting around 8pm EST. Until then, check out our foolproof predictions (at least among the fools we tested) and our gorgeous Oscar chart. Click away. The world is yours.

Get on your Batbikes and ride. But first, take a look at this thing of beauty. It’s our gorgeously completed Oscar chart of 30 entries. It’s just so darn clickable. Like a kitten. Or not. Try it. Today, I muse thoughtfully on my recent revisitation to The Dark Knight, which is up for special effects. But what’s the mystery entry at No. 1? OMG, did I just win an Oscar?!? I’m really unprepared for this. I’d like to thank my dogs. And my doglike agent. Actually, this is Team Film’s top-secret, ultralogical predictions for the big night. Click on for wisdom. And don’t forget to visit us on the big night for some tasty live-blogging. Say thank you!

Is that cocky of us? In Dave’s words, WALL-E is the last-gen everybot. So let Meryl Streep have her Doubts. Of some things, we’re certain. Like Slumdog Millionaire. Why not consider some recent Best Picture winners before backlashing? In short, today’s three Oscar entries are feisty. Feisty and robotic—and scarily devout. Also, take a look at the chart itself. Homestretch time.

It’s like we keep telling you, in our much-discussed televised debates: Team Film is not a crook. Nor are we quitters. Indeed, all we do, day after day, is write utterly engrossing appreciations for the Oscars chart. And still, all you people want to do is ask us about Watergate. It’s just not fair to the country. Today, for example, we tip our fedoras to Milk-man Gus Van Sant. Then, we have a borderline-Pulitzer-worthy entry about Man on Wire. Finally, David Fear weighs in on the strengths of Best Picture nominee Frost/Nixon and its devastating Watergate-inquiring finale. See? There you go again. Never Russia or China. Dammit.

I have a proposal. What say we all of us duck out of work now (yes, right now!) and go relive the unequivical genius of John Ford’s greatest film (no offense to The Quiet Man), which screens in less than an hour at the Museum of Modern Art? No one in their right mind will choose spreadsheets over the Duke, although it just now occurs to me that, by blogging our cinematic escape, I have unwittingly compromised myself. Don’t worry, I’ll stay behind and hold them off; just get on your horses and get out of here!

Are we using sex to sell today’s Oscar-chart entries? That would be judging us solely on appearance. What? Do you think we’re dumb just because we’re so goddamn beautiful? Perhaps. Anyway, before Team Film gets too mad, allow us to point you in the direction of today’s three witty entries. First, there’s Anna King’s appreciation of France’s The Class, nominated for Best Foreign Language Film. Then, there’s a little lovin’-up on the techno soundtrack from Slumdog Millionaire, written by me. Finally, we offer a mash note to Marisa Tomei in The Wrestler. Not really a mash note. But it’s quite positive.

It’s Tuesday, and not an election day. So what does that mean to you? May we humbly suggest it means reading our new weekly Blu-ray column? Fine, you don’t own a Blu-ray. Neither do we, actually. But we do have an excellent critic taking measure of interesting films each week. Plus, one day you will own a Blu-ray player. It’s the future. It’s unavoidable. Or is it? Maybe these geeky issues of fidelity and pixels and whatnot actually mean something. All I know is, “unavoidable” or not, I’m happy to be single thankyouverymuch.

When I had the pleasure of interviewing Frank Langella for 2007’s Starting Out in the Evening, I was struck by the honesty that had him debunking his own buzz. “It’s a good story, my recent ‘renaissance,’ ” Langella said, “but it’s not true.” Our chat became one about work: the diligence, the job of acting. About that renaissance, though, he was wrong. Langella is finally poised to go all the way this year, and scenarios of vote-splitting between Sean Penn and Mickey Rourke bum-rush my head. Consider Langella’s strengths in Frost/Nixon, then consider the strengths of our Oscars chart.

Any movie set in the 1970s pretty much represents our dream wardrobe. But you really have to hand it to Milk’s Danny Glicker for nailing municipal San Francisco’s particular brand of wide-tie awfulness. Our Anna King has all the details about Glicker’s extensive research for the movie. Meanwhile, how awesome is the Oscars chart beginning to look? (Rhetorical.)

Yes, it’s that easy. We know you’re secretly dying to see Confessions of a Shopaholic (out on February 13), but just can’t bring yourself to shell out the $12 for a ticket. Now you don’t have to. In honor of Rebecca Bloomwood, the fashion-frenzied leading character, Paige Premium Denim has teamed up with Bloomingdale’s to create the “Paigeaholic jean,” a pair of dark-wash, skinny-ankle pants. All you have to do is go to Bloomingdale’s, try on the jeans, and voilà–free ticket!

Talk to your average fanboy and Fight Club is a part of his brocabulary. But a funny thing happened on David Fincher’s way to a minor, if stylish, career. He smartened up. He became incredibly daring. And he began to apply his commitment to terrific scripts. By 2007’s Zodiac, Fincher could be discussed seriously as one of Hollywood’s best. Finally, he is Oscar-nominated for The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. Even if he doesn’t win (a likelihood given Danny Boyle’s momentum), it’s a fascinating step for a perfectionist. I have many more thoughts. Or you can check out the chart.

There’s the pantheon of greats, and then there’s Martin Scorsese atop it. Do I speak as a fan? Yes. But I also speak as someone with eyeballs. And when the subject is Scorsese’s brutal, magnificent Raging Bull, we’re talking prime Marty. But how essential is the brand-new Blu-ray transfer of the movie? And what is Blu-ray anyway? Check out Stephen Garrett’s Blu-ray column every Tuesday: “Am I Blu-ray?” This week, Stephen goes a few rounds with De Niro. (Not the fat, lazy De Niro at the end of the movie; the pumped De Niro.)

Do you think we’re sitting around eating ice cream with Colin Farrell, idly exchanging barbs? Of course not. Still, our traffic does sometimes get backed up here at the head office. As a result: two glorious Oscar posts at once, in a spurt of overwhelming goodness. First, a brief appreciation of Austria’s Revanche, not your everyday thriller (and soon to be featured in Walter Reade’s “Film Comment Selects” series). The movie is nominated for Best Foreign Language Film. Then, a tip of the hat to the witty banter of In Bruges. My, this Oscars chart is looking robust! What if you were to just click on another pretty square? What would happen?

Some would say “And the winner should be…” Indeed, Anna King is partial to Hathaway’s work. Read her appreciation of the Rachel Getting Married star. Meanwhile, I ask the Academy: Why no Debra Winger nomination? Why no Jonathan Demme director nod? Breathe. Move on. Anne got recognized. I take pleasure in the growing tumescence of our Oscars chart—as, I’m sure, do you.

There’s some superb work in the supporting-actor bracket from all the nominees. But it’s doubtless that Revolutionary Road’s Michael Shannon crams the most impact in the least amount of screen time—we’re talking three scenes here. And yet, the range displayed by Shannon (playing an emotionally unstable character) is astounding. Read on, or check out our Oscar chart to consider his competish (Heath Ledger and Robert Downey Jr). And because we’re supergenerous, expect another new entry later today, a biggie. (Her name rhymes with Jan Splathaway.)

Do you think we forgot about you, dear chart obsessives? Of course not. It’s just that we’ve crafted an extra-special entry about an extra-special performance, written by an extra-special man, TONY Film editor David Fear. Penn is, of course, a leading contender for Oscar gold. Is it wrong that we still think of him as Jeff Spicoli? That was my skull! I’m so wasted! Click on to read Dave’s appreciation, and then check out the rest of our dope Oscar chart. And by dope we mean “good,” not, like, stoned. You know.