Day: March 2, 2013

It only took me a year to finally ditch Softlayer and sign up with a new ISP (Liquid Web) and then transfer over to WordPress. The WordPress conversion is done and will be evident by next weekend if not sooner. When this happens I’ll also be using Disqus for comments. (Which may require everyone to re-register.) And then I’ll finally move ahead with a re-design, which will manifest sometime in April.

The brutal truth is that Hollywood Elsewhere earned less ad revenue over the 2012-2013 Oscar season than it did last year. This is actually true for many sites. Everyone in my realm suffered. The reason is that the bigger sites (like Deadline, Variety, The Hollywood Reporter, Hitfix) got more aggressive and bellowed and threw their weight around, and with a finite ad budget the buyers gave them more and sites like mine a bit less. Plus I lost potential ad bucks because of my dissing of Lincoln. My not being a friend of Life of Pi also resulted in reduced revenues. Let it never be said that I don’t suffer for my opinions.

The re-design will be a way of saying Hollywood Elsewhere is just as vital as the others, and that we’re re-doubling efforts and standing taller and yaddah-yaddah. I’m thinking of putting in a permanent, year-round “rising and sinking fortunes” box on the front page. I’m thinking of trying again to post guest editorials from anyone who can write with some authority about new upcoming films and/or films in the pipeline. Or anything, really. I’m thinking about a MCN-styled Twitter box on the front page. And a weekly newsletter sent out. And maybe a new focus on TV/cable as well as Bluray, which will require finding new contributors. I don’t know what else. I’m open to any and all suggestions. One way or another Hollywood Elsewhere will be a new thing by April 30th if not before.

This Jerry Lewis interview was posted two or three years ago, but his recollections about the beginnings of his friendship and then partnership with Dean Martin are really great. You have to know the act and the history and the whole legend of Skinny D’Amato.

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How many world-class male directors (domestic or foreign) are known for appearing to understand and get under the skins of strong female characters, and have shown more than once how masterful they are at telling women-friendly dramas? I’ve noted before that this description fits Beyond The Hills director Cristian Mungiu…but who else? With this grim but curiously compelling drama of obsession and exorcism opening on March 8th, it’s worth re-posting a four-month-old riff:

Beyond The Hills director Cristian Mungiu at Bouchon — Sunday, 11.4, 10:07 pm.

“A thought hit me during Sunday night’s dinner at Bouchon for Beyond The Hills and Four Months, Three Weeks and Two Days director Cristian Mungiu that he could be in the Terrence Malick business if he wanted it. His rep as a woman-friendly, deep-focus, introspective helmer is such he could make indie-fashioned pics in this country with any in-demand actress in the business.

“They’d all work with him at the drop of a hat, Meryl Streep on down, because he’s a celebrated, Bresson-like perfectionist.

“I asked Mungiu about this and he said that he’s heard from more than a few American actresses, all saying they’d love to work with him. But he really is a Bressonian in that he prefers (or has so far preferred) to work with non-actresses. He also says there’s something about the aura of an established or famous actress that might impose itself upon his process…maybe. But he’s open to the right thing if it seems right, he said, so no doors are firmly closed.

“He said he recently got an email from director William Friedkin about wanting to meet, partly because they’ve both shot films about exorcisms. But he’s leaving Los Angeles tomorrow with no plans to return anytime soon.”

Mungiu, dp Svetlana Cvetko — Sunday, 11.4, 10:10 pm.

And this from five and half years ago:

“Calm, confident and obviously whip-smart, Mungiu speaks with a vast English vocabulary and a very faint accent. He’s a believer in pared-down, less-is-more realism, and he knows how to explain his cinematic aesthetic in a very clean and concise way. He listens carefully and knows his stuff. I could talk to Mungiu for days. The same ‘instant comfort’ thing happens whenever I meet a good director from any culture.”

Reports started to circulate a couple of weeks ago about Harrison Ford returning as Han Solo in JJ Abrams‘ Star Wars VII. My understanding is that this is not idle conjecture and will probably happen but you know Ford — renowned for being a tough negotiator, has to get his price and then some. Naturally the Disney guys are telling everyone to keep their yaps shut.

If I were Ford, who turns 71 on July 13th, I would want to completely eliminate the possibility of anyone claiming he’ll be playing Grandpappy Solo. 70 is the new 60 or even the new 55 if you eat right and take care of yourself, but Ford really has to buff up for this. He has to at least be the guy he was in Cowboy and Aliens — graying but tough and snarly, rugged and sinewy and semi-leather-faced and still able to dodge asteroids. If I were he I would labor mightily through some punishing health and workout routine (and perhaps with some kind of mild cosmetic touch-up, like getting rid of the fucking turkey neck) to pass myself off as a rugged 50something, perhaps even the way Ford looked in in ’08 in that now-completely-discredited Indiana Jones flick.

The fans will want a return of classic Han Solo and the old Millenium Falcon. They’ll want to go right the hell back to 1980, or as much as possible in that direction. They’ll want one last final smirking strut of the once-rascally freelancer in all his Greedo-shooting glory, casually cruising the cosmos in his retro-fitted bucket of bolts. That means not, emphatically not doing any kind of getting-older, slowing-down, “Oh, my aching back” retirement-home version. Don’t even think about that. We’re talking a performance in the vein of Sean Connery in Never Say Never Again.

I had a nice 20-minute chat this morning with actress Valerie Perrine, who’s best known for her Oscar-nominated performance as Honey Bruce in Bob Fosse‘s Lenny (’74). (And for which she won Best Actress at the 1975 Cannes Film Festival and Best Supporting Actress from the New York Film Critics Circle.) As I mentioned yesterday, Perrine will be doing a q & a with Larry Karaszewski between screenings of Lenny and George Roy Hill‘s Slaughterhouse Five on Thursday, 10.7, at Santa Monica’s Aero.

Perrine started in show business as a Las Vegas topless revue dancer, which she did for several years. She didn’t land her first screen role in Diamonds Are Forever, she says — that’s an IMDB error. She was around 28 when she lucked into the supporting role of Montana Wildhack in Slaughterhouse Five (which came out in June 1972). She then made history as the first actress to do a boob-baring scene on American televison during a May 1973 PBS airing of Bruce Jay Friedman‘s Steambath. And then came Lenny — her career peak.

She costarred in the first two Chris Reeve Superman films, of course, playing Lex Luthor’s (i.e., Gene Hackman‘s) girlfriend, Eve Teschmacher. She reached the end of her lucky streak at age 36 or thereabouts after costarring in Nancy Walker‘s Can’t Stop the Music (’80), which Perrine believes pretty much killed her career or at least kept her from being cast in first-rate films.

Perrine costarred in Tony Richardson‘s The Border (’82), although, she says, she had signed for that film before Can’t Stop the Music. And from then on acted in whatever came along — TV, indie movies. Never say die, keep on plugging, tomorrow’s another day. Perrine’s last mainstream score was a costarring role in Nancy Meyers‘ What Women Want (’00).

Perrine isn’t given to expansive answers but that’s cool. She’s a bit like Jennifer Lawrence in that she’s not into arduous preparation for a part — she just likes to walk on set and keep things as spontaneous as possible. She didn’t have a huge amount to say about working with with Fosse on Lenny or about Lamont Johnson‘s Last American Hero (’75), an excelllent film in which she also co-starred. But she told a pretty good tale about getting the attention of Slaughterhouse Five casting agent Marion Dougherty.

She mentioned that her health isn’t in the greatest condition these days but that it might be just a temporary setback (let’s hope). Really nice lady, good to touch base.

Remember when Pixar used to mean “pick of the litter” or “exception to the rule”? To me animated family-trade movies are a form of Orwellian horror. The oppressive sameness, the regimented “up” attitude, and the skin-deep humor perfectly express the bloodless corporate mentality behind them. These movies are cash cows, but the trick is to avoid making a parent-punisher. Monsters University (Disney, 6.21) looks like a parental torture device.

About a year ago 20th Century Fox’s UK video arm issued a superbly mastered Bluray of Joseph L. Mankiwewicz‘s Cleopatra. They called it a 50th anniversary edition when in fact it celebrated the film’s 49th year, as it opened on 6.12.63. I said in my 2.5.12 review that “if you can somehow make yourself ignore the elephantine, glacially-paced, dialogue-driven nature and just focus on the lavish Todd-AO splendor and large-format clarity, it’s a nice high-def bath.”

And now Fox Home Video is announcing that their version (i.e., the exact same Bluray with exact same extras) is coming out on 5.21.13 with a different cover.

What am I missing? Except for Amoeba and Best Buy and Walmart and other big chains retail purchasings of Blurays are no more. If you want to buy a Bluray you order it online, period. Which is what I did when the British version came out. What’s different when it comes to ordering the U.S. version? The British Bluray is slightly cheaper, going for about $12 U.S. while the limited U.S. book version is selling for about $18 bills and the domestic limited two-disc Bluray is $13.

The original roadshow version of Cleopatra (i.e., the version on both Blurays) runs 243 minutes but it’s actually 251 minutes with overture, entr’acte and exit music. The full-boat 243-minute version is the only way to suffer through this thing.

I shouldn’t have used the word “nice” in my initial review — that makes it sound just okay. The British Bluray is visually magnificent, sumptuous. It’s a long, highly colorful, super-detailed chocolate sundae. I wrote last year that “I can watch stodgy big-studio films if they were shot by seasoned pros (i.e., Leon Shamroy) on expensive large-format stock. I have that skill, that knack. I shut my mind off and meditate on the resolution and the tonalities and push the other stuff aside.”

Cleopatra is essentially a three-character piece (Elizabeth Taylor‘s Cleopatra, Rex Harrison‘s Julius Caesar, and Richard Burton‘s Marc Antony). The big poster was originally painted with just Taylor and Burton. This prompted Harrison to complain and insist that he be included, and so the poster was altered [see below]. Now the jacket cover of the U.S. Bluray has eliminated Harrison again.

In his 2.26.12 review, Bluray.com’s Dr. Svet Atanasov called Cleopatra‘s high-definition transfer “enormously impressive. Detail, clarity, and especially image depth easily rival those of the outstanding Bluray release of William Wyler‘s Ben-Hur, which Warner Brothers produced last year. The massive panoramic scenes also look incredibly fluid. If you have the ability to project your Blurays on large screens, prepare to be overwhelmed by the stunning visuals.

“There are absolutely no traces of problematic de-noising or sharpening corrections. Unsurprisingly, when blown through a digital projector Cleopatra very much looks like film, boasting organic qualities that are typically extremely easy to appreciate if an older film has undergone a meticulous restoration and lab technicians have not tried to ‘modernize’ it.”

On 4.11.10 I wrote the following: “The rap against Cleopatra is that it’s stately, slow-moving, oppressively talky, etc. But the opening credits — black font, a series of faded wall paintings, Alex North‘s music — are arresting, and then fascinating during a 20-second passage. North’s score slips into a somber mood and then builds into slight fanfare as the final painting becomes more and more vivid in stages, and finally transitions into 70mm live action.

“There’s a portion of ten or twelve minutes after the credits with Rex Harrison and Martin Landau and the rest that’s fairly efficient, and then — about 16 or 17 minutes in — Elizabeth Taylor arrives, and the film soon becomes draggy, and then tedious, and then suffocating.”

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