Desson Thomson has a great interview with Scott Simon on NPR about cult movies — what (and who) defines them and what is appealing about them. What do the Coen brothers have in common with “The Wizard of Oz” and “Blade Runner?” Listen to Thomson and find out.

Entertainment Weekly has a list of the all-time top cult classics, though I’d argue that some of them, like “Blade Runner,” “Spinal Tap,” and “Willie Wonka” are now so firmly and widely established they are canonical. The A.V. Club has an edgier list and I like the way they helpfully point out the movies influenced by their choices and give their honest view of how well the films on the list hold up.

I don’t think a movie has to be a horror film or low-budget to be a cult classic. It just has to have a small but passionate audience. The best cult films gradually find a broader fan base — or maybe it just takes a while to find its audience — or for the audience to catch up to it. My favorite cult classics include Office Space and The Big Lebowski, a movie which is now so beloved it has annual gatherings of its fans.

I love this trailer for a new Australian movie about a girl struggling to fit in. Her friend is played by the wonderful Keisha Castle-Hughes of “Whale Rider” and “The Nativity.”

There’s a terrific Idol Chatter post about the Chabad telethon with clips from John Voight, Matt LeBlanc as Joey, Arnold Schwarzenegger, and a lot of men dancing together. Chabad’s 2008 telethon broadcasts tomorrow, September 14.

Scott Weinberg of Cinematical is recovering from oral surgery, which is of course the perfect time to watch some “comfort movies.”
I often say that movies should be rated on two scales — good to bad, of course (and we can debate forever what that means) and “watchability.” Some movies just go down easy for reasons that have nothing whatsoever to do with whether they are good or classic or smart or creative. And those are movies that are very good when you’re a little bit feverish or achy.
Of course the choice of “comfort movie” is very personal. Each of us has movies that are special to us just because we loved them when we were younger and have seen them so many times. I agree with some of Weinberg’s choices — “Finding Nemo” and “Princess Bride” will cheer anyone up. But while I respect his affection for “King Kong” (the original), “Raising Arizona,” “Lord of the Rings,” and “The Blues Brothers,” those are all too loud and frantic to be my idea of good convalescence watching. I like “Happy Texas” and “Galaxy Quest” and classic musicals like “Bells are Ringing” and “The Music Man.” I also like to watch some of my favorite television shows when I’m sick in bed. 22 minutes is about right for my attention span when I’m feeling sick. “Mad About You,” “The Dick Van Dyke Show,” “Sports Night,” “Will and Grace,” “Barney Miller,” “30 Rock” — pure video penicillin. I also like to listen to director commentary tracks when I’m sick, something I don’t usually have time for. I especially love the one for “Charade.”
I have loved movies for as long as I can remember but I first began to think about them when I spent the summer in bed with mononucleosis at age 16. Even though I only had a black and white television with just five channels, it was not a bad way to spend the summer — and not a bad way to learn about movies.

Americans take for granted our most precious and vital resource. We assume that when we turn on the tap, the water that comes out will be perfectly safe and more than plentiful, endless. And then there are those rows and rows of pristine water in bottles on our grocery store shelves.

But it isn’t safe and it isn’t endless. If global warming creates floods, many of us can move to higher ground. If we run out of oil, many of us can walk. But if we run out of water, it is all over for everyone just about immediately.

This documentary finds a good balance between terrifying statistics, depressing images, talking heads, and hopeful suggestions. The bad guys, according to the film, are the corporations who sell bottled water, removing it from communities by diminishing their sources for water so they can sell it back to them. And in a telling segment, we learn that the World Bank is better at giving away a billion dollars to build an ineffective water treatment facility that disrupts the local economy and ecology than they are at working toward lower-tech, lower-impact, lower-cost solutions. No one who sees this movie will think the same way again about reaching for that line of clear bottles at the grocery store or letting the shower run while you take a phone call. Ideally, no one who sees this movie will ever vote for a candidate again without finding out what he or she will do to keep our water safe and plentiful.