I love the “schedules permitting” qualification in this Aero listing. (Oliver Stone: “I’ll try to come by. I will. I’ll really try. But something might come up.”) I’m not a fan of big-deal holidays as a rule. I loathe crowds, traffic jams, long lines, packed restaurants, screaming kids, older men in shorts and sandals. I certainly never drive anywhere over the 4th of July holiday — I stopped that back in the ’90s. I might drive up to Mulholland west of Beverly Glen to watch the distant fireworks but maybe not. At least I’m not in Manhattan, which I hear is baking and muggy and generally horrible.

Every couple of years I search around for scenes from this 1971 Mike Nichols classic, but I can never find anything better than the Jack Nicholson-Ann Margret fight scene, which I last posted in 2012.

Longtime Nichols collaborator Dick Sylbert explained it to me once. Nichols had developed that static, carefully composed, long-take visual style that we saw in The Graduate, Catch 22, Carnal Knowledge, Day of the Dolphin and The Fortune. And then he withdrew from features for eight years after the double-flop of Dolphin and Fortune. He crashed. Some kind of drug-dependency issue was part of it, Sylbert said. Anyway, when Nichols returns with Silkwood in ’83 he’s abandoned the static long-take thing. He’s now into Phase Two — the great stylistic signature of his late ’60s to mid ’70s films is over.

From Todd McCarthy‘s 2014 Sundance review in The Hollywood Reporter: “The generically titled War Story is a rigorous and enigmatic behavioral study of a professional photographer traumatized by what she’s recently experienced in a combat zone. Fronted by an outstanding performance from Catherine Keener, who is onscreen, often by herself, at almost every moment, this challenging but not difficult second feature from Mark Jackson parcels out its information in gradual increments, forcing the viewer to infer rather simply receive most narrative information.

The Declaration of Independence, adopted on July 4, 1776, proclaimed that the 13 American colonies were detaching themselves from English rule and were therefore free and independent states — quite a brave thing, raised quite a rumpus. The United States of America would not become relatively united and cohesive until after the end of the Civil War, of course, but for 130 years the U.S. of A. at least approximated the idea of a nation more or less bonded by shared beliefs, convictions and social goals. That’s obviously no longer true. Today and beyond the U.S. of A. is impossibly divided and never the twain shall meet. The right has gone totally around the bend. The urban Blues are the Czech Republic and the rural Reds are Slovakia, and I really think it’s time for the Czechs to sign a new Declaration of Independence and cut those bozos loose.

It’s not a rumor — the brown areas are where the least affluent, most downmarket, under-educated and culturally resentful U.S. citizens reside. If you can’t re-educate them the next best thing is to isolate them & let them stew in their own juices.

Yes, I wrote about this 15 months ago but I’m talking about the saddest and most personally screwed-up voters (poor health, obese, boozing, cigarette-smoking, gun-owners, living hand-to-mouth in trailer parks or foreclosed homes, driving gas guzzlers, poorest educational systems, highest divorce rates) who live in West Virginia, Kentucky, Mississippi, Tennessee, Arkansas, Alabama, Ohio, Louisiana, Indiana and Oklahoma…in that order.

I believe in forgiveness and offering second chances, but a lot of industry people reportedly don’t feel that way about director Randall Miller, whose apparent negligence and/or recklessness while shooting Midnight Rider on February 20th led to the train-trestle death of Sarah Elizabeth Jones. After dragging ass for too many months, prosecutors in Georgia’s Wayne County yesterday charged Miller, his producer wife Jody Savin and unit production manager Jay Sedrish with involuntary manslaughter and criminal trespass. They’re all looking at prison time above and beyond what they’re facing in civil court, including a wrongful-death lawsuit filed by Jones’ parents. I’m sure the defendants will mount a vigorous defense but the best thing for Miller and Savin, image- and industry-wise, is to cut a deal with prosecutors in which they’ll do time for a year or so. Then the yoke will be lifted and they’ll be looking at a clean slate. People will feel sympathy (“Who hasn’t made a mistake or two?”) and give them another shot. Robert Mitchum was in a dicey career position when he was busted for pot in 1948, but his image was almost enhanced after he manned up and did 48 days in a minimum-security facility. Bonus: Miller and Savin could then make a documentary or even a feature about the Midnight Rider tragedy as a way of atoning and offering tribute to Jones.