My latest movie column for Sympatico/MSN — about “Zodiac” and the Hollywood true-crime picture — is featured on the front page, meaning those four million unique visitors will all have a chance to click through, and get angry with me for not seeing things precisely the same way they do.

Still, that’s pretty neat. Almost neat enough to soothe the bile in the back of my throat over “Wild Hogs” topping the box office over the weekend.

Yeah, I know “Zodiac” is an hour longer and thus unable to screen as often, but still … $38 million is a lot of suckers. I’d hoped people would know better, somehow.

Maybe they’re all big William H. Macy fans. I hope he got a piece of the gross.

Well, that’s interesting: The movie I was most anticipating this week turned out to be only kind of good, and the movie I was kind of dreading turned out to be oddly delightful.

Oh, sorry, that’s “Black Snake Moan”. The other movie I was dreading was still pretty dreadful.

Anyway, here’s the rundown:

“Black Snake Moan“: Craig Brewer follows “Hustle & Flow” with an even less reputable (but far more entertaining) psychodrama about the literal bond between a half-crazed bluesman (Samuel L. Jackson in the latest role he was born to play) and the young woman (Christina Ricci) he’s determined to save from her own sexual compulsion. Plus, there’s singing.

“Missing Victor Pellerin“: Sophie Deraspe’s tale of a vanished painter and the people he left behind asks one important question: Is this a Montreal art-scene project, or a documentary about a different Montreal art-scene project? And does it matter, in the end?

“Seven Swords“: Tsui Hark — who produced some really terrific Hong Kong action movies, and directed some really terrible ones — takes on an epic about villagers, raiders and the heroes from Mount Heaven who stand between them. I think. Two and a half hours of mindless action choreography later, I still have no idea what happened.

“Wild Hogs“: The only thing worth taking away from this dreadful, dreadful comedy (see?) is the discovery that William H. Macy is funnier than John Travolta. Either that, or William H. Macy is really funny when he’s despairing for his career. Wait for cable, wait for cable, wait for cable.

“Zodiac“: David Fincher’s dream project suffers from precisely the same tunnel vision as its characters: It’s so obsessed with the details and minutiae of the Zodiac’s reign of terror that it forgets to stay connected to anything else. At least Robert Downey, Jr. manages to enjoy himself in the margins.

Later today, I’m taping a hit for TVOntario’s “Saturday Night at the Movies“, discussing “The Ox-Bow Incident” and “Witness for the Prosecution”. No idea how the two films are linked, but I guess that’ll be part of the fun.

If one had been paying attention to the Canadian entertainment media in the runup to the Oscars — and even if one hadn’t — one would have seen a great deal of coverage of Deepa Mehta, director of Canada’s Best Foreign-Language Feature submission and, therefore, the front-runner for the prize.

Of course, if one had been paying attention to the Oscars themselves, it was clear that “Pan’s Labyrinth” was the front-runner, and “Water” didn’t have a chance.

Hell, if you saw the analysis of the Foreign Language contenders in Salon or the New York Times last week — subscriptions required for both, unfortunately — you knew “Water” was regarded as the runt of the litter.

Now, had “Pan’s Labyrinth” actually won the award, there would have been a slew of post-game coverage rationalizing Deepa’s loss as inevitable, given the momentum of the winner and the relatively puny push mounted by Fox Searchlight in the U.S. for “Water”.

But “Pan’s Labyrinth” didn’t win. “The Lives of Others” won, in the night’s only upset that didn’t involve Eddie Murphy. And so that narrative — plucky, talented Canadian ignored in favor of a pre-determined favorite — is no longer operative. Instead, well, there’s been hardly a mention of “Water”, or Deepa Mehta, at all.

This is a good thing. It’s time we stopped pretending she was a major Canadian filmmaker.

I should probably point out, as I usually do around this point in the rant, that Deepa Mehta is apparently a very nice person, and when I’ve encountered her socially she’s been charming and effusive. But she’s a terrible filmmaker, and “Water” is a mediocrity — if a sumptuously photographed mediocrity — that panders to the Western viewer’s sense of social injustice with a parade of artificial and unconvincing scenes of foreign misery.

(Andrew O’Hehir’s Salon review put it best: “Well, I don’t know if they have VH-1 in India, but now I know what it might look like.”)

She’s a hack. If you’ve seen any of her English-language films — “Camilla”, “Bollywood Hollywood”, especially “The Republic of Love” — then you know this. I can’t really explain why her foreign-language work keeps getting a pass from the critical community, except possibly that her deficiencies are somewhat obscured by the subtitles and the general foreign-ness of the world in which those films are set.

A couple of weeks ago, I wrote a column for Sympatico/MSN about how this year’s Genies were a bit of a joke, since none of the country’s major filmmakers had a movie out, and therefore the awards had to scramble for movies worth rewarding.

It’s kind of the same thing with Mehta. She’s not a major filmmaker, and doesn’t seem likely ever to be one, but people keep treating her like a major talent and making excuses when she inevitably fails.

Here’s hoping the media’s inability — or refusal — to explain away her latest disappointment is a step in that direction.

Sorry for the late post, but I spent the morning on deadline. But now that I’m done …

1. Did anyone else get all nervous when “Little Miss Sunshine” won Best Original Screenplay, thinking that meant it was on the fast track for Best Picture?

2. Did anyone else secretly delight in the kicking of “Babel” to the curb? That, and the slow loss of “Dreamgirls” momentum over the last month or so, seems to suggest that one can no longer declare oneself an Oscar lock if one hasn’t, you know, made a good movie.

3. Shadow puppets, huh? Yeah … yeah, that’s awesome.

4. Best Live-Action Short. If ever anyone needed proof that the Academy can, occasionally, be played like a doddering grandmother … I mean, well, duh.

5. Bald Nicholson. Look, I know he’s playing a cancer patient in a Rob Reiner movie, but someone should have said something, just to reassure the 999,999,726 viewers who might not. Although the revelation that Rob Reiner is making a movie about cancer patients isn’t exactly reassuring, is it?

6. Taylor Hackford keeps touching Helen Mirren, as if to steal some of her Oscar inevitability. Dude, you made “The Devil’s Advocate”. It’s never going to happen.

7. “The Lives of Others” wins Best Foreign-Language Film. I love “Pan’s Labyrinth”, but this one’s pretty great, too. And with three other wins, Guillermo’s movie is obviously feeling the love. More money for “Hellboy 2“!

8. Hey, hang on … so Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck is German by way of Detroit?

9. Martin Scorsese tearing up at Thelma Schoonmaker’s win for editing “The Departed” was the most honest moment of the night. Although Forest Whitaker came awfully close.

10. The Al Gore movie wins Best Documentary Feature! Davis Guggenheim looks like he’s about to break down weeping; apparently he was the only one who didn’t know this was an inevitability.

11. Note to George Lucas: There are some things you can’t fix in post. Live comedy is pretty high on the list.

12: Martin Scorsese wins Best Director, making George Lucas the only one of the group who doesn’t have a directing Oscar. I wonder how John Milius, Brian de Palma and Willard Huyck are feeling right about now.

13. Diane Keaton is out of her fracking mind. Was Nicholson taking two safety steps back?

14. “The Departed” wins Best Picture. And all is right with the world.

15. Wanna see a movie that has absolutely no chance of winning an Oscar, ever? Catch “Reno 911!: Miami“. It’s funny, and if it’s successful then maybe someone will let them make a “Viva Variety!” feature.

… yeah, that’s never gonna happen. But maybe this will help get the show released on DVD.

Just hours until the Oscars. And if you’ve been following my informed coverage, you know I don’t really think much of them this year.I mean, if “Children of Men” and “Pan’s Labyrinth” aren’t in contention for Best Picture, what’s the point of it? Why should we pretend that “Little Miss Sunshine” and “The Queen” can match “The Departed” — or even “Letters from Iwo Jima” — as cinematic accomplishments?

(No disrespect to “The Queen”, but that film is a delivery vehicle for two tremendous performances, and if Michael Sheen didn’t rate an acting nomination, well, that says everything about the Academy’s regard for the picture as a whole.)

But still, people are asking me about what they should see, and what movies have the best chance of winning. I’ve been saying the same thing over and over again: Go see “Children of Men” and “Pan’s Labyrinth”, on the biggest screens you can find, and then tell me the Oscars are the ultimate arbiter of cinematic quality.

My friend and colleague John Harkness at Now has long explained that the Oscars should be given the same weight as any other industry awards — the prizes are nominated and awarded by a subset of professionals whose values and standards are not necessarily reflective of the world beyond their industry. Just like critics’ associations, but with an entirely different set of evaluative criteria.

The awards are an opportunity to focus attention on the industry, and a chance for some additional marketing, and only peripherally exist to highlight a film the masses might not have otherwise encountered — again, I’m thinking “Pan’s Labyrinth” here — and nothing more. If you thought “The Marine” was the best film of 2006, and Robert Patrick got totally hosed for a Best Supporting Actor nomination, the Oscars aren’t going to change that. And I might even agree with you on the second thing. Dude is awesome.

Me, I just like watching the ceremony in high-def, the better to see who’s had surgery since last time. And it’s a great excuse to eat junk food with a clear conscience — it’s part of the aesthetic, baby!

The Friday before the Oscars means that everyone’s busy writing thumbsuckers about the awards — myself included — and no one’s paying attention to the weekend’s new movies. Which is just as well, I guess, because this is not the best of weeks.

“The Astronaut Farmer“: Texas dreamer Billy Bob Thornton builds a rocket in his barn, and people think he’s crazy. Art-house directors Mark and Michael Polish update Frank Capra for the present day, and people think they’re crazy, too. But Thornton’s pretty good.

“Days of Glory“: The original French title, “Indigenes”, is much more appropriate for Rachid Bouchareb’s dour tale of North Africans who fought for their colonial motherland in World War II, only to be treated as second-class citizens … but the English title sounds more like something that could win Best Foreign-Language Film, doesn’t it?

“Iraq in Fragments“: James Longley took his DV cameras to Iraq in 2004, and shot some incredible footage. Then he sort of mucked it all up by being an impressionist instead of a documentarian. But as a portrait of an occupied nation trying to figure out where it’s headed, it’s occasionally fascinating.

“The Number 23“: In which Jim Carrey is driven insane by math, and possibly also by Joel Schumacher’s inability to compensate for a crappy screenplay. (Hey, he made “The Lost Boys” fun.) I am not expecting to see a critical re-evaluation of Schumacher any time soon, though one could argue that this is his “Vertigo”. If one were very, very high.

“Reno 911! Miami” wasn’t screened in time for opening-day reviews, so I’ll be catching it later this afternoon. I’m quite fond of the show — despite loathing everything else Thomas Lennon and Robert Ben Garant have created since they started writing movies — so here’s hoping the movie works, too.

Oh, and “Wild Hogs” is sneaking on Saturday night. Just punch yourself in the face instead. It has the same effect, it doesn’t take 99 minutes, and you save twelve bucks plus parking.

If you thought Pauline Kael was capable of grand critical contortions for mediocre directors, take a gander at this fascinating re-evaluation of uberhack Tony Scott over at Cinema Scope, which argues for Scott as a genuine auteur.

It’s a great read, even if you don’t buy into its central premise his latest film, “Deja Vu”, can be interpreted as his “Vertigo” … which I certainly don’t.

So, um, “Ghost Rider“.

Huge, huge hit.

Wow.

I mean, I admit I kinda enjoyed it; it may be very, very silly and pretty lame overall, but Nicolas Cage makes it worth watching through force of will alone.

But … really? People went to see it in droves?

Seriously, I figured “Music and Lyrics” would clobber it with Valentine’s Day afterglow alone. Or maybe there’s a lot of lonely, desperate comic-book geeks out there.

Actually, scratch that. Of course there’s a lot of lonely, desperate comic-book geeks out there. I just didn’t think they’d turn out for “Ghost Rider”. Especially once they factored “From the Director of ‘Daredevil’ ” into the equation.

Maybe they were all showing up for the “Spider-Man 3” trailer? I mean, I have to admit that one looks pretty awesome. And nobody’s head is on fire … that we know of.

This week’s Sympatico/MSN movie column — it’s a direct link now — is about the Genies. Did you know they were held this past Tuesday? I almost didn’t, and I blame the media.

Also, it’s Friday! Movies are opening! Specifically:

“Breach“: Billy Ray follows “Shattered Glass” with another movie about guys in ties who argue about lies. This one’s pretty gripping, too.

“Breaking and Entering“: Anthony Minghella is a charming and intelligent man, who has made the mistake of writing his own script.

“Bridge to Terabithia“: Or, what happens when marketing makes promises a movie can’t keep. And Walden Media — already overdoing the Christian thing after “Narnia” and “Charlotte’s Web” — really has to throttle back on the piety.

“Ghost Rider”: Screened too late for opening-day coverage; my Metro review will run on Monday. Yeah, it’s silly and incoherent and ridiculous and dumb as a box of rocks. But someday, they will write songs about Nicolas Cage’s magnificent, magnificent performance.

Rock on, Nicolas Cage, you spectacular comic-book bastard.