Month: September 2010

70% of me hates this damn photo. The photographer’s timing was immaculate in that he caught me licking my lips at just the right moment, making it look like I’m scowling at the entire world and all of its peoples and faiths and creeds. But the capturing of the inside of the Grand Theatre Lumiere, the biggest inside the Cannes Palais, is better than anything I’ve ever gotten myself.

Taken last May by Indiewire’s Todd McCarthy inside Grand Theatre Lumiere inside the Cannes Palais, prior to one of the big screenings.

Indiewire‘s Eugene Hernandez has flown the coop for a gig as director of digital strategy with the Film Society of Lincoln Center — a marketing job that will presumably pay him a higher salary than he made at Indiewire, and which will open the door to all kinds of blue-chip jobs in the future. Hernandez, a man of the pavement whose basic attitude is that of an apartment-dweller (and I mean that in the best sense), has been invited to hang with the folks on the hill — the swells.

2:26 pm Update: Hernandez has told Deadline‘s Michael Fleming “that he’ll keep the blog he writes for Indiewire and will help them find a new editor.” He’ll begin the Film Society of Lincoln Center job on 11.1.

A reaction piece by Indiewire columnist Anne Thompson conveys mixed feelings — she feels as if she’s been left high and dry by Hernandez, but that things are still cool and full-speed-ahead with SnagFilms CEO Rick Allen (who purchased Indiewire operation two or three years ago) and the rest of the Indiewire team and…whatever, we be cool.

Hernandez has written a piece called “This Is Not Goodbye.” Actually, it is, Eugene — it is goodbye and good luck and “see ya ’round the campus.” Hanging around “over the next few weeks during the transition” and then “cheering loudly from the sidelines” is analagous to someone saying to a business acquaintance while standing at the corners of Houston and Broadway, “Jesus, we haven’t talked in so long…we should really do lunch!”

David Robb writes a 9.22 Hollywood Reporter piece about how Stanley Kramer‘s Inherit the Wind, a film about rural fundamentalism vs. educated and open-minded urbanism, is still relevant today and doesn’t once mention the words “Teabagger” or “Palinism”? And makes a statement that this 1960 film “is to my mind the quintessential parable about McCarthyism”?

All Robb manages to say about today’s political theatre is that “the arguments that creationists make in [Inherit the Wind] haven’t gone away — they’ve only gotten dumber and shriller.” Better to heed Spencer Tracy‘s words in the film: “Fanaticism and ignorance is forever busy and needs feeding, and soon with banners flying and drums beating we’ll be marching backwards.”

The just-announced decision by Facebook honcho Mark Zuckerberg to donate up to $100 million to the Newark, New Jersey school system has nothing to do with countering the “asshole” image of Zuckerberg that The Social Network advances…right? The bequeathment will arrive in the form of “Facebook’s closely held stock,” accordign to a 9.23 Wall Street Journal story by Barbara Martinez and Geoffrey A. Fowler.

There’s a mild irony in the fact that awareness is growing in journalistic circles and elsewhere that Zuckerberg’s assholery (as depicted in the film) is nowhere near as acute as Aaron Sorkin‘s script suggests. Zuckerberg is withdrawn and socially awkward, but he reportedly has a longtime girlfriend. Eduardo Severin ‘s financial moves on behalf of nascent Facebook in the early stages were questionable and he did need to be cut loose.

A putrid right-wing stink filled my den this morning when this ad played on MSNBC. It’s so infected with the Big Lie virus (i.e., indifferent to the fact that Bush-era deregulation and the invasion of Iraq and Afghanistan created catastrophic conditions before Obama took over) that it creates a kind of instant soul-cancer effect.

It’s obviously aimed at stoking ignorant Teabaggers, but is really about Republican slime wanting to play more golf and kick back with screwdrivers inside their McMansions and cruise like they used to during the Dubya years. Not to mention their bedrock concurrent fears that the reign of the exclusive white-male political club is no longer a locked-down arrangement.

No organization claims responsibility for creating this ad and no contact information is supplied at the end. The Fair Campaign Practices Act prohibits this kind of thing, no? FCPA rules state that if an ad is political, “a disclosure statement must include (1) the words ‘political advertising’ or a recognizable abbreviation such as ‘pol. adv.’; and (2) the full name of one of the following: (a) the person who paid for the political advertising; (b) the political committee authorizing the political advertising; or (c) the candidate or specific-purpose committee supporting the candidate, if the political advertising is authorized by the candidate.”

A 9.23 Washington Post op-ed piece by White House adviser David Axelrod warns about the right-wing corporate shadow forces that are paying for these ads and financing the anti-Obama campaign.

MSNBC should be ashamed of itself.

The unanswered question about the secret Wachowski Bros. project known as Cobalt Neural 9 is whether or not there will be any girl-on-girl action. To me a Wachowski Bros. movie isn’t a Wachowski Bros. movie without this element. The Iraqi woman whom Butch-the-marine falls in love with a hot Iraqi pre-op shemale…wait, pre-op or post-op? And he/she has a girlfriend. That’s one way to approach it.

Deadline‘s Pete Hammond has run three responses from possibly vested viewers about Mel Gibson‘s performance in Jodie Foster‘s The Beaver. They all said Gibson is “extraordinary,” he reports. One person said that Gibson “gives an incredible performance…if you can forget what happened, and I didn’t have tabloid images racing through my mind watching him, it’s really something…I still don’t want to be his friend but he’s great in this.” Another says, “I don’t bullshit about these things…he’s amazing.”

GQ has an excellent recollection piece about the making of Martin Scorsese‘s Goodfellas, which opened 20 years and three days ago (on 9.19.90).

Martin Scorsese (director; co-writer): “I’d seen Ray Liotta in Something Wild, Jonathan Demme‘s film; I really liked him. And then I met him. I was walking across the lobby of the hotel on the Lido that houses the Venice Film Festival, and I was there with The Last Temptation of Christ. I had a lot of bodyguards around me. Ray approached me in the lobby and the bodyguards moved toward him, and he had an interesting way of reacting, which was he held his ground, but made them understand he was no threat. I liked his behavior at that moment, and I saw, Oh, he understands that kind of situation. That’s something you wouldn’t have to explain to him.”

Liotta: “I think I was the first person that Marty met, but it took maybe a year. It was a very, very long process, not knowing anything and really wanting to do this. I was new. I’d only done three movies at the time. All I heard was that the studio wanted somebody else — ‘What about this?’ ‘What about Eddie Murphy?’

Winkler: “Marty wanted Ray very badly. Frankly I thought we could do a lot better, and I kept putting him off saying, ‘Let’s keep looking.’ And then me and my wife were having dinner one night in a restaurant down in Venice, California, and lo and behold, Ray Liotta came over to me. He was in the same restaurant, quite by coincidence, and he asked if he could come talk to me.”

Liotta: “I just went up and said that I really, really wanted to do the movie.”

Winkler: “We went outside, he said, ‘Look, I know you don’t want me for it but I…,’ and he really sold me on the role right that evening. I called Marty the next morning and I said, ‘I see what you mean.'”

The piece was reported by Sarah Goldstein, Alex Pappademas, Nathaniel Penn and Christopher Swetala, and compiled by Penn.

Two New York Film Festival press screenings (and one press conference) ate up the morning. First came Michael Epstein‘s LennonNYC (set to air 11.22 on PBS’s American Masters), a celebration of the commerciality of the late John Lennon under the guise of a recollection of his last nine years of life, most of which were spent in Manhattan. And then Martin Scorsese and Kent Jones‘ Letter to Elia, a tender and intimate personal recollection doc about what Eliza Kazan‘s films meant to young Scorsese, particularly from the mid ’50s to early ’60s.

LennonNYC director Michael Epstein, Film Society of Lincoln Center co-honcho Scott Feinberg following this morning’s screening at Walter Reade Theatre — Wednesday, 9.22, 11:15 am.

LennonNYC hits every exuberant worshipful note you could expect or imagine from a doc meant to inspire love of a rock legend (and to generate interest in buying CDs of John Lennon’s music). It says that Lennon was an amazingly spirited and indefatigable live-wire. He never had any moments of boredom or banality — the man was incandescent 24/7. Everyone he knew and worked with loved him or got off on him, or both. The talking heads all say the same thing — “John was so great, I loved John, his creative process was astonishing, he loved Yoko, he loved Sean, what a guy,” etc.

I’m sorry but sitting through two hours of this wears you down. I’m good for an hour of this but two hours feels like oppression, punishment. Hagiography always has this effect. I loved Lennon’s music as much as the next guy, but nobody’s life has ever been this vivid and wonderful and awesome to contemplate.

On top of which Epstein doesn’t even mention Mark David Chapman‘s name. Chapman was the dark side of Lennon/Beatles fandom, the kind of fan who felt he “owned” his idols and they “owed” him a certain kind of output. And it is utter dereliction, in my view, for Epstein to have ignored the saddest and darkest irony of Lennon’s life, which is that he was killed because he gave up being an angry and envelope-pushing rock crusader and retreated to a life of luxurious seclusion and house-husbandry. He was killed because he gave up the creative struggle for four-plus years, which led Chapman, deluded fuck that he was, to feel betrayed, and to take Lennon down as a form of revenge or punishment.

Make a face and dismiss Chapman as a loon, but that’s what happened. And any filmmaker who says “I didn’t find the Chapman aspect very interesting…it had nothing to do with who John was” (which is approximately what Epstein said during this morning’s press conference) isn’t dealing from a straight deck.

Approaching Walter Reade theatre on 65th Street.

Letter to Elia, on the other hand, is a delicate and beautiful little poem. It’s a personal tribute to a director who made four films — On The Waterfront, East of Eden, Wild River and America America — that went right into Scorsese’s young bloodstream and swirled around inside for decades after. Scorcese came to regard Kazan as a father figure, he says in the doc. And you understand why. Letter to Elia is a deeply touching film because it’s so close to the emotional bone. The sections that take you through the extra-affecting portions of Waterfront and Eden got me and held me like a great sermon. It’s like a church service, this film. It’s pure religion.

More than a few Kazan-haters (i.e., those who couldn’t forgive the director for confirming names to HUAC in 1952) were scratching their heads when Scorsese decided to present Kazan’s special lifetime achievement Oscar in 1999. Letter to Elia full explains why, and what Scorsese has felt about the legendary Kazan for the 55, going-on-60 years.

I didn’t try to get the attention of Film Society of Lincoln Center co-chief Richard Pena (l.) or that of Letter to Elia co-director Kent Jones (r.) — I just snapped and ran.

Cafe area just in front of Alice Tully Hall at Broadway and 65th — Wednesday, 9.22, 1:25 pm.

Blue-chip restorationist Robert Harris is driving — driving! — all the way from Chappaqua to Ottawa this weekend for The Lost Dominion Screening Collective’s 70mm Film Festival at the Canadian Museum of Civilization (9.24 through 9.26). As the years slip by the opportunities to see mint-condition 70mm prints of classic mid 20th Century films are diminishing, particularly in first-class venues with optimum projection standards. I’d be up there in a heartbeat if my schedule permitted.