Last Wednesday evening 25 or 30 journos were shown five or six scenes from Matt Reeves‘ Dawn Of The Planet of the Apes (20th Century Fox, 7.11). It was a chance to sample the quality of the visual effects, which of course are top-notch, as well as the performances from both the ape and human characters, which I was genuinely impressed by. It was also a chance to get an idea of what kind of film this might turn out to be.

The footage suggested that Dawn is going to be solid and sturdy, but I came away from Wednesday’s screening with a suspicion that it might be not be quite as good as 2011’s Rise of the Planet of the Apes, which was basically the story of how Andy Serkis‘s Ceasar got smarter and stronger and finally broke out of bondage with his fellow apes. It was all about individual story tension — about the sand pouring out of the glass and the audience wondering when things would finally snap and turn away from James Franco and in Ceasar’s direction.

Dawn seems less personal and more group-oriented. More about military and political tactics than individual direction. Speeches, declarations, taunts, lines in the sand. An ape army standing in opposition to an opposing army of humans. Families and alliances and group dynamics.

Last night’s reading of an early draft of Quentin Tarantino‘s Hateful Eight script was partly a gas and partly a downer. Was it worth the $200 bucks I paid to attend? Yeah, I think so. It was quite the novel theatrical event given the loose experimental vibe and the amusing spectacle of watching several top-dog actors having fun with a vulgar, rambunctious script. The “Tarantino superstars” (including Samuel L. Jackson, Kurt Russell, Amber Tamblyn, Bruce Dern, Tim Roth, Michael Madsen, Walton Goggins and James Remar) had a good time and did themselves proud. And yes, Tarantino made it clear (as others have noted) that he’s currently revising the script and is therefore almost certainly interested in making a film version. He also stated that the finale performed last night is being scrapped and will never be heard from again.

But pretty much every account of last night’s performance has failed to say whether The Hateful Eight sounded good enough to be a decent movie. Let me state very clearly and without a shred of a doubt that it didn’t. It’s a fairly minor and almost dismissable thing — a colorful but basically mediocre Tarantino gabfest that mostly happens on a single interior set (i.e., Minnie’s Haberdashery, located somewhere near the Wyoming town of Red Rock during a fierce blizzard) and is basically about a gatherin’ of several tough, mangy hombres sitting around talkin’ and yappin’ and talkin’ and yappin’. And then, just to break up the monotony, doing a little more talkin’ and yappin’. Along with a little shootin’ and poison-coffee drinkin’ and brutally punchin’ out a female prisoner and a few dozen uses of the word “nigger” (par for the QT course) and swearin’ and fellatin’ and whatever else.

A few weeks ago Fox restoration guru Schawn Belston told me that the Blurays of Carousel and The King and I inside the forthcoming Rodgers & Hammerstein Bluray set (Fox Home Video, 4.29) were sourced from the original widescreen CinemaScope 55 elements, which means richer, extra-sharp quality. Both films were shot with the larger-negative process (roughly analogous to VistaVision but with a 2.35:1 aspect ratio, qnd “a picture four times the size of 35mm CinemaScope“) but both were reduced down to 35mm anamorphic film for theatrical projection. So not even the big-city roadshow engagements of these films presented the large-format benefits of the process — every print was reduced down to 35mm. At least Belston’s decision to draw from the original 55mm negative for the Blurays will provide a taste of what these two films might have looked like if Fox had decided against the down-rezzing.

By the way: Frank Sinatra was originally cast as Billy Bigelow in the Henry King film, but he walked off the set when told he’d have to shoot each scene twice a la Oklahoma! (which was shot in 35mm and Todd-AO). This makes no sense at all, of course, as King shot only one version in CinemaScope 55mm. The explanation is that right after Sinatra bolted, Carousel producers found a way to film the scene once on 55mm and then transfer it onto 35mm, so shooting twice was avoided. Here’s his “Soliloquy”, which I’ve always thought was one of his best-ever recordings ever in any capacity.

I attended last night’s reading of Quentin Tarantino’s The Hateful Eight at the Ace Hotel theatre in downtown Los Angeles. I’ve been trying to post a reaction piece for a while now but interruptions keep happening. I’ll get it up sometime this afternoon. I’ll also have a considered reaction to last Wednesday’s 20th Century Fox screening of footage from Matt Reeves‘ Dawn of the Planet of the Apes (7.11.14). Just get off my back, don’t rush me, etc.

I’ve always liked Hugo Friedhofer‘s lush but sturdy score for Marlon Brando‘s One-Eyed Jacks (’60). You could argue that it sounds a little too comforting — too romantic and swoony, too conventionally orchestrated — for a film about betrayal, revenge and the fundamental duplicity and untrustworthiness of humans. But I think it works because of this lack of thematic coordination. The movie is frank and blunt and unforgiving for the most part, but Freidhofer’s music is the refuge. Listen to the main-title track — it’s a skillful piece of schmaltzy persuasion and really quite sublime if you accept it on its own terms. The gig happened because Brando liked Friedhofer’s score for The Young Lions (’58) and, I would presume, The Best Years of Our Lives (’46), which is probably his best-known work. The man had soul. It always came through.

I should try to open my heart and pay to see Randall Wallace‘s Heaven is For Real, which has pulled down $28.5 million since opening last Wednesday. But I’m very reluctant and I probably won’t. In part because the 53% Rotten Tomatoes rating obviously indicates a degree of mediocrity. I also find the Christian belief that you can get into Heaven only by accepting Jesus as your one true savior (sorry, Muslims, Taoists, Buddhists and Satan-worshippers!) to be completely despicable and ridiculous, and donating $15 to the cause would give me indigestion, I think. Compassionate liberal Christians are cool but conservative hinterland Christians are, I believe, clueless phonies and sanctimonious prigs whose core values and loyalties are aligned with whitebread Republicanism, and that makes them pretty close to vile in my book.

Not to mention the above still of Kelly Reilly beaming gentle love into the eyes of her young son Colton (played by Connor Corum)…I’m sorry but I can’t stand the idea of watching a film that pushes this kind of treacly family sentimentality. But I suppose it’s possible there are spiritual values in this film that might be worth pondering, and that I’m not giving the damn thing a chance because of my profound loathing of rightwing Christians, whose beliefs and lifestyles would make Yeshua retch if he ever re-appeared and saw what had been created in His name.

I would be honestly surprised if any HE regulars paid to see Heaven Is For Real but if they have and would like to share, please do.