“The writers who are permitted to ‘columnize’ for The N.Y. Times have a tremendously influential platform, and I wonder whether they should use that platform to advocate on behalf of personal friends, as [Nicholas] Kristof did yesterday. If Dylan Farrow wishes to publish an open letter about her allegations, there are ample forums in this internet age. Should The Times and Mr. Kristof lend their credibility to her argument against Woody Allen?” — N.Y. Times public editor Margaret Sullivan, in an opinion piece posted about five hours ago.

Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon (especially Brydon) really go to town on Tom Hardy‘s Bane in Michael Winterbottom‘s The Trip to Italy. The scene goes on at least a minute longer than it does in this clip. If this riff starts viralling, people are going to come up to Tom Hardy for years and years, cupping their hands over their face and going “rohhrr-rohhrr-rohhrr!”

The Dylan Farrow letter “has impacted Cate Blanchett‘s campaign,” Michael Musto tells Gold Derby‘s Tom O’Neil in a recently posted audio discussion. “Blanchett was the biggest lock since Colin Firth when he won for The King’s Speech. [But] suddenly, it’s not cool right now to vote for Woody Allen. Do I think Blanchett will win? I do because her performance is so strong and why would you hold it against her? This has nothing to do with Cate Blanchett, but I think it’s throwing a big wrench into the whole thing. (On Oscar night) if they say the winner is not Cate Blanchett, we’re going to know why she didn’t win.”

Michael Wolff‘s 2.3 Guardian piece about the Dylan Farrow letter isn’t novel or radical, but it strikes me as the wisest and most comprehensive assessment yet of what’s really going on.

“[This] is a story of interlocking media deals and cultivated media cronies,” he concludes. “Everybody is at work here. Everybody is someone else’s instrument. Everybody is promoting something. Two decades have passed but the Allen-Farrow betrayal, break-up, and molestation charges are somehow, all of a sudden, as vivid as yesterday.

“Here’s a certainty: When you play out your personal dramas, hurt and self-interest in the media, it’s a confection. You say what you have to say in the way you have to say it to give it media currency — and that’s always far from the truth. Often, in fact, someone else says it for you. It’s all planned. It’s all rehearsed. This is craft. This is strategy. This is manipulation. This is spin.”

2013 was the biggest and boldest year for African-American themes and filmmakers in Hollywood history, hence the deserved presence of 12 Years A Slave‘s Chiwetel Ejiofor, Mandela: Long Road to Freedom‘s Idris Elba, Fruitvale Station‘s Michael B. Jordan and Slave‘s Lupita Nyong’o on the cover of Vanity Fair‘s Hollywood issue. But why include Mandela‘s Naomie Harris and 42‘s Chadwick Boseman? VF cover subjects for this annual issue are usually chosen because (a) they’re award-season contenders with serious heat or (b) are breakout types who seem likely to be players for years to come. No offense but very few conversation-starters were extra-lathered about Harris and Boseman’s performances. They may have great careers in front of them but people in my circle were not running around and saying “Naomie Harris is the next thing!” and “Chadwick Boseman killed in 42!”

Six and a half years ago I bought Criterion’s then-new DVD of Billy Wilder‘s Ace in the Hole (’51). For years I had written lovingly of this film’s flinty, hard-as-nails quality. I’ve mentioned Jan Sterling‘s “hard-boiled egg” line a couple of times. I’ve memorized Kirk Douglas‘s “eight spindly trees in front of Rockefeller Center” speech. But guess what? My main reaction to the DVD was “this is too cynical, too bitter…it overplays that aspect.” The best movies always define themselves with a precise tone and world-view, but too much cynicism kills the ghoulash. On top of which that Criterion DVD looks pretty good. I’m not persuaded that shelling out $30 bills for a Masters of Cinema Bluray (streeting on 4.28) is all that necessary. Who am I kidding? I’ll be shelling out but I won’t like myself in the morning.

For decades the Detroit auto industry was notorious for lagging behind on gas efficiency while mainlining profits from gas-guzzling SUVs. Three or four years ago Chrysler shut down the Delaware plant that made their hefty=sized Dodge Durango and Chrysler Aspen SUVs so they’ve presumably gotten into the swing of things. But it’s flat-out dishonest if not rancid for Bob “paycheck” Dylan to praise Detroit as an exemplar of “the finest” innovation and craftsmanship. “Is there anything more America than America?” he said at the beginning of Superbowl ad. How about selling out? Several native industries arguably exemplify the best aspects of American tradition and character. Detroit may be gradually changing its approach, but it’s known worldwide for having been myopic, arrogant and greedy for a long stretch of time. Why didn’t Dylan make an ad for Fender guitars? The Chrysler ad gave me the same sinking feeling I felt in ’79 when Dylan announced he was a born-again Christian. “Bob Dylan just negated 50 years of sticking it to the man in about 90 seconds,” some guy tweeted. Dylan stopped sticking it to the man in 1964.