If you were holding off seeing “This Is It,” figuring you’d put the inevitable DVD on your Christmas list, thanks to the Grinch that is National Association of Theatre Owners, that’s not going to happen.

The L.A. Times reports today that the film company desperately wanted to release Jackson’s concert documentary in time for holiday sales, which, of course, makes perfect sense. But, since there is typically a 90-day-to-four-month window between a film release in theaters and its arrival on DVD to maximize ticket sales, theater owners raised concerns over such a quick turnaround – assuming the DVD would be out in early December.

Given the limited two-week run of “This Is It”—though don’t be shocked when Sony decides to extend that run, given the film’s tremendous worldwide take after one day—the film company remained hopeful that theater owners would understand the special circumstance. Not gonna happen. Don’t expect this one in stores until early 2010.

What do you think? Were you planning to skip the film in theaters, thinking you could ask for it as a holiday present, or does this time issue make no difference to you?

It’s a pity that all of the time, money and brainpower that went into what would have been Michael Jackson’s final concerts will never be fully realized.

But, “This Is It,” the concert film culled from more than 120 hours of rehearsal footage for Jackson’s 50 London shows that were slated to begin mere weeks after he died in June, is a worthwhile document of Jackson’s creativity.

The film opened worldwide today and is expected to be in theaters for only two weeks.

Fans will be moved to sing along to spirited performances of “Smooth Criminal” and “The Way You Make Me Feel” and simply moved by Jackson’s sweet falsetto on “Human Nature.” They’ll also get a glimpse into Jackson’s creative process and at what clearly would have been a spectacular production.

Along with the raw performance footage, the film captures Jackson practicing with his robust dancers, sharing his visions for the elaborate pre-taped videos to accompany the live performances and, of course, dancing.

Though painfully thin, Jackson usually appears spry as he effortlessly glides across the stage and pops and locks as heartily as his much younger dancers. Still, it’s often a sad realization that this is the last piece of history from the entertainment legend.

For a full review of “This Is It,” click here: http://www2.timesdispatch.com/rtd/entertainment/music/article/W-BEAT29_20091028-191006/302130/

It’s pretty brilliant when you think about the choices in “It Might Get Loud,” because the three subjects being followed in this guitar-centric documentary couldn’t be more disparate.

There’s the clean, ringing sounds from The Edge, who adores his playground of effects that give him his “voice” and is even quite transparent as a person – he’s quietly funny, thoughtful and studious and meticulous about his craft.

Then there is Jack White, the purist who has no use for technology and “likes to pick a fight” with his guitar – which explains why his instrument was often smudged with blood after a fervent White Stripes performance.

And, looking every bit the elder statesman that he is with his sweep of silver hair, stands Jimmy Page, the ‘60s guitar god, the guy who co-wrote “Stairway to Heaven” and tells the camera that his approach to his roaring, passionate sound was “all about the dynamics – whisper to the thunder.”

This trio of axe-men convened at a soundstage on Jan. 23, 2008, to swap guitar techniques, tell stories about their influences and jam on one nifty round-robin of slide guitar (they also perform a song at the end of the film, but no need to spoil the surprise).

Though some might gripe that the footage of Page, The Edge and White talking and playing together is too meager, you need to know all of the parts before you can understand and appreciate the sum.

Director Davis Guggenheim, who also helmed “An Inconvenient Truth,” and, we’re sorry to report, the pilot of the modernized “Melrose Place,” does a fine job here of interspersing the summit meeting with footage of each man not only in his habitat, but in places that are meaningful to the history of his band.

The Edge gives a tour of the school where he found the flyer tacked to a bulletin board, the one placed there by U2 drummer Larry Mullen Jr., seeking a guitarist.

Page (a co-producer of the doc) returns to the storied Headley Grange, in the English countryside, and explains how the mics were placed along the staircase banister for the recording of “When the Levee Breaks.”

And White is frequently shown listening to and playing along with old blues records, the foundation of his sound that, along with a general fondness for all roots music, undoubtedly inspired his collaboration with Loretta Lynn a few years ago.

Most exciting, though, is the see-sawing footage of past and present, or, in Page’s case, present and past.

The Edge stands in a grotty kitchen and plays a cassette tape of the first guitar tracks from “Where the Streets Have No Name” (though who can believe him when he says, “I have no idea what’s on these tapes” before popping it in?), and 30 seconds later, we’re transported to the song being performed on the last U2 tour, in front of a stadium full of fist-thrusting fans.

Page, who looks happier than he ever did in Led Zeppelin, humorously plays air guitar – yes, even Jimmy Page plays air guitar – to some of his favorite old blues records, before the film cuts to Zep onstage in their heyday, Page’s dark mop of hair concealing his face as his hands actually blur from his swift movement.

And, White Stripes fans will surely be amused at some footage of Jack and Meg White playing for the stately older gentlemen at the Chelsea Pension Home. At least they kept it acoustic, with Meg playing with brushes, before cutting to the Stripes live onstage, raw and screaming. That might have given a few of the poor guys a heart attack.

“It Might Get Loud” is necessary viewing for any music fan – especially those who like to dive beneath the surface a bit and actually care how The Edge constructed the monster riff from “Get On Your Boots” (not so massive when you hear it without his layering of effects).

But it’s a scene in which Page rips out the intro to “Whole Lotta Love” for the guys that epitomizes everything: as Page plays, White moves his guitar off his lap, almost as if it isn’t worthy of being in the same room with such greatness and The Edge stands up and walks over for a closer view, studying Page’s fingering like a kid watching his first instructional guitar video.

It is a moment of deserved reverence in a movie that celebrates the instrument that is the connective tissue in music.

“It Might Get Loud” is currently playing at Westhampton.

If you’re one of the people who really believed the overhyped bit between Eminem and Sacha Baron Cohen’s “Bruno” character was real, well, guess what? It was rehearsed many, many times.

So says my never-wrong source who was on site at the MTV Movie Awards in Hollywood Sunday.

If you missed it, “Bruno” descended from the ceiling wearing white feathers and little else. He landed on Eminem, sitting in the crowd, in exactly the position you’d expect him to land on Eminem considering the juvenile male minds at work at MTV. Eminem, who just happened to be mic’d, proceeded to curse at the flamboyant and befuddled character before pushing him aside and angrily stalking out of the venue.

Amazingly, the MTV camera crews knew exactly which way Em would exit and how his posse would follow him.

C’mon, you really thought that was impromptu? You’re talking about a network that fabricates its reality shows—nothing on those airwaves resemble reality.

Kate Winslet’s speech was certainly smart and sincere and inclusive (the Anthony and Sydney she thanked are directors Anthony Minghella and Sydney Pollack, who died last year) and wonderful. And she looked so handsome. It is almost possible to overlook the astonishingly overwritten speech given to her by last year’s winner Marion Cotillard: “Kate Winslet, with each new role you continue to push the bondaries of what is possible.“

I was a little surprised the Oscar for best actor went to Sean Penn. Perhaps I was so blinded by Mickey Rourke’s performance in “The Wrestler” that I figured the academy would be blinded by it, too. Penn certainly must have noticed it, because he gave a shout out to Rourke. Penn’s best moment, of course, was his self-effacing “I want to make to make it very clear that I do know how hard I make it to appreciate me.“

You know “Slumdog Millionaire” is going to win best picture when its undistinguished music wins for best score. But you especially know it’s going to win when the song “Jai Ho” wins for best song. Did anyone who voted for it actually know how it goes?

Meanwhile, my friend Morgan said, “The clock in ‘Benjamin Button’ isn’t the only one going in reverse.“

The score so far is 2-2. “Slumdog Millionaire” has won for best adapted screenplay and best cinematography. “The Curious Case of Benjamin Button” for art direction and cinematography. The biggest surprise, though, remains the first award, to Penelope Cruz for best supporting actress in “Vicky Cristina Barcelona.“ She was great in the role, and absolutely deserving of the honor. But then again, so were the other four nominees. A lot of people had predicted Viola Davis for “Doubt,“ Marisa Tomei for “The Wrestler” or Taraji P. Henson for “The Curious Case of Benjamin Button” (my pick). But I don’t think anyone was expecting Cruz would win, not that anyone would begrudge her.

On a different subject: OK, Philippe Petit balancing an Oscar upside-down on his chin was hilarious. The dude is irrepressible.

The clip of James Franco and Seth Rogan watching comedies (and laughing hysterically at a couple of dramas) in character from their “Pineapple Express” movie was actually funnier than anything in “Pineapple Express.“

Now we know why they chose Hugh Jackman to be the host. The one-time Broadway musical star can really sing and dance, and he can also sell a joke (is it just me, or are some of the jokes funnier this year than in recent years? They must not be using Bruce Villanch this year). Anne Hathaway, of course, also sings, and the two made a particularly attractive duet. But somewhere, you know, there are a lot of people asking “Who is this Huge Ackman?“

I like some of the changes they’ve made this year—the way Tina Fey and Steve Martin read the stage directions until the actors said their lines for the screenplay nominees (and they were extra funny, too, of course), the painsgtakingly edited montages of movies in a category, including ones that were not nominated. These montages probably only make sense to people who have seen all the movies, and they do take up time; the show seems to be either zipping along merrily or stopping dead. Little in between. The ongoing description of what goes into films, what each of the crafts does is also a great idea, and informative.

I was wondering why Jennifer Aniston was paired with Jack Black as presenters, and then it hit me—they’re going alphabetically. You have to feel bad for Ms. Aniston for that, but one’s sympathy only goes so far. She looked spectacular in that gown, probably by someone famous. On the other hand, their jokes were particuarly lame. Come to think of it, all the jokes since Fey and Martin have been kind of weak. Welcome back, Bruce!

P.S. Oh look, Ben Stiller made a joke about show business. How unexpected. I’m not saying his parody of a spaced-out Joaquin Phoenix wasn’t clever. It just wasn’t unexpected.

So I have this idea for a cartoon. A glamorous woman is walking on a red carpet, a man draped over her shoulders and hanging down her back. An interviewer asks her, “Who are you wearing?“

Black seems to be the new black at this year’s Oscars, with a few notable exceptions. Most notable is Miley Cyrus, who looks like a sugary thing you’d find on the top of a cake, or perhaps some sort of 18th century bell. Penelope Cruz wins my personal award for best-looking dress. Also, best-looking person in the best-looking dress, a 60-year-old number by someone famous I haven’t heard of.

Meanwhile, my friend Cynth wrote to say that sadlly, Sophia Loren looks like a lampshade in an Italian bordello.