I had intended to post a transcript of a fascinating (if I do say myself) interview I conducted with the three directors of “The Signal,” which is a thriller about a mysterious signal broadcast over every media that drives people into a murderous frenzy. Frankly, the same thing happens to me when I see a Head-On or Bob’s Furniture commercial.

I think we can safely say, after watching last night’s Oscars, that Barack Obama will defeat Hillary Clinton for the Democratic Presidential nomination. Otherwise, how else account for my incorrect prediction in the Best Supporting Actress category? And there are other reasons as well.

But let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

Alain Robbe-Grillet has passed away. Or has he? Given the fluid nature of reality in his books and films, the permeability of all times with eternity, the interconnection of every consciousness and fate with one each other and with none in particular, he may just have moved on to another scene or narrative line or another movie.

Before George Romero, (with a nod towards Richard Matheson’s 1954 sci-fi novel “I Am Legend”) zombies were just bit (no pun intended) players in the horror genre, inert, usually voodooized automatons that with few exceptions (i.e, Jaques Tourneur’s “I Walked With a Zombie”(1943), scheduled for a 2009 remake left little impression.

Friends and family said farewell to Heath Ledger in a private memorial and funeral service in his hometown of Perth, Australia, over the weekend. Most of us will remember him for his consummate performance as the repressed ranchhand suffering an unfulfiiled lifelong love affair with a fellow cowpoke in Ang Lee’s "Brokeback Mountain

Much like a Mungiu movie, my conversation last time ended in the middle of something unfinished. We were discussing a dinner scene in “4 Months 3 Weeks and 2 Days” in which the protagonist, Otilia, is stuck at a torturous dinner party with her boyfriend’s crass bourgeois parents at a time when she would much prefer to be somewhere else, however awful.

After living through the Ceacescu dictatorship, Cristian Mungiu probably finds the stupidity of the Motion Picture Academy’s Foreign Language committee a minor nuisance. Nominated by Romania as its candidate for the Best Foreign Language film, his “4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days,” a stark, subtle and devastating depiction of the travails of two young women seeking a solution in a society in which abortion has been criminalized, was totally ignored by whoever the clowns are that make that determination.