Everyone knows by now that Spike Jonze‘s Her (Warner Bros., 12.18), which will have its big debut at the New York Film Festival on Saturday, 10.12, is about a lonely dweeby guy (Joaquin Phoenix) falling in love with a non-human voice called “Samantha” (Scarlett Johansson). And I’m kind of wondering why Jonze cast Johansson, whose appeal has always been primarily visual but who is never seen in Her (or so I understand). Her voice…I shouldn’t say anything before seeing the film but I’ve never found it to be (no offense) wildly captivating or mesmerizing. Particularly if you compare it to female voices that are renowned for a certain breathy or sultry quality…that slight insinuation of purring eroticism. Or just a soothing soulful vibe. Or just a brisk, snappy quality. Like those of (take your pick) Charlotte Rampling, Jacqueline Bisset, Cate Blanchett or young Faye Dunaway. Or Kim Novak‘s in Bell, Book and Candle. Or Mia Farrow‘s or the young Julie Christie‘s. If we’re talking voice attraction alone why not cast an actress whose voice really has something?

I’m attending a screening of Jimi Hemdrix — Hear My Train A Comin’ on Wednesday night. I’m still suspicious of anything that’s been made with the cooperation of the notorious Hendrix estate, but I’m willing to watch it without prejudice. The doc airs on Tuesday, 11.5 at 9 p.m. on PBS.

I was never that interested in Breaking Bad because I felt (and still feel) that the inevitable violent consequences of dealing methamphetamine in New Mexico and particularly having to grapple with a demimonde of Latino low-lifes is…well, uninteresting. Scummy criminal-class types hold no fascination for the simple fact that they’re born to lose. I respect the poetry of Walt Whitman as much as the next guy, but I never cared very much for poor, cancer-afflicted Walter White (Bryan Cranston) because I couldn’t identify with or root for a guy who was toast from the get-go, and because I’ve always felt repelled by Cranston’s slit eyes and heavily lined, stressed-out features — I don’t see myself in him and I’d rather not see him in me. And I was always irked by Aaron Paul‘s tennis-ball haircut and almost-midget-like stature. I’m not “right” or “wrong” to feel this way, but you’d never know that to go by HE commenters. I was dismissed, pitied, defamed, spat upon and written off by more people than I care to remember. Arrogant as this may sound, I feel I’m entitled to my prejudices about any drama portraying the ups and downs of the Albuquerque meth trade, even one as respected and praised and enjoyed as much as Breaking Bad was.

“Early Sunday morning, all 231 House Republicans decided that crippling health care reform was more important than keeping the government’s doors open. It was one of the most irresponsible votes since the last shutdown in 1996. [Republicans] know that their proposal to put the health reform law on hold for a year and repeal a tax on medical devices stands no chance in the Senate…the real goal is not to delay but to destroy health reform by making it appear unworkable, in hopes that the public will not see the affordable premiums that will be available on the new health insurance exchanges where people can shop for plans starting Tuesday. It may be impossible to prevent a shutdown at this point if the House continues to prefer dueling to governing, but at least the public will clearly see the source of the nation’s wounds.” — Excerpt from 9.29 N.Y. Times editorial, “House Rushes to Shutdown.”

I’ve been slacking on Oscar Poker podcasts so long they look like up to me. This morning Awards Daily‘s Sasha Stone and I discussed the leading Best Picture contenders and all the attendant issues. Principal topics: 12 Years A Slave (including the “Steve McQueen problem” and the coming pushback), American Hustle, Saving Mr. Banks, the probable (if not yet confirmed) postponement of Martin Scorsese‘s Wolf of Wall Street, Nebraska, Captain Phillips (which is having its big L.A. premiere tonight), Spike Jonze‘s Her, Ben Stiller‘s The Secret Life of Walter Mitty, the possibility that George Clooney may be punking everyone with current Monuments Men assessments, and ongoing concerns about Bruce Dern possibly not making it as a Best Actor nominee for Nebraska. We’re pulling for you, Bruce! Again, here’s the mp3.

“Amid a night of so many peaks, though, one raucous moment stood out: Elvis Costello, who was serving as Justin Timberlake‘s understudy, did a rendition of one of the highlights of Inside Llewyn Davis. Called ‘Please Mr. Kennedy’, the song is performed in the movie by Timberlake, Oscar Isaac and actor Adam Driver, and is a quick-tempo time capsule to 1962 that features lines about rocket ships. Onstage, Costello pleaded with the new president in song while Driver, best known for his role as Lena Dunham‘s off-and-on boyfriend in Girls, offered wickedly funny harmonies: rocket sounds, lip-blubbers, meteoric accents.” — from Randall Roberts‘ review of last night’s “Another Day, Another Time”/ Inside Llewyn Davis tribute concert at Manhattan’s Town Hall.

Inside Llewyn Davis costar Carey Mulligan during last night’s Town Hall concert.

Showtime will air the concert on Friday, 12.13 at 9 pm. Great — over two months from now.