Phillip Seymour Hoffman: “No one else can do this but her.” Julianne Moore: “Do you think she’ll be able to handle it?” PSH: “We need [her] to unite these people out there…she’s the face industry volume…they’ll follow her.” Katniss, Katniss, Katniss, Katniss…will you lead us in revolution, Katniss? With your medieval bow and arrow that you use to hunt raccoons? Young lad: “Are you fighting, Katniss? Are you here fight with us?” Katniss: “Uhyahm. I will.” What a load of stinking horseshit. And they don’t even have the decency to finish it with this film — they have to drag it out into two parts. Because the Lionsgate stockholders, like Johnny Rocco in Key Largo, “want more.”

What I really like about this Jungle Wakudoki Toyota ad, produced by the Dentsu Aegis ad agency, is the feeling you get that everyone (including the gorilla) was on mescaline when it was shot. I also love the decision to use an exact facsimile of the gorilla suit worn in 20th Century Fox’s Gorilla At Large (’54)

I launched Hollywood Elsewhere sometime around August 20, 2004. Maybe a day or two earlier but it was right around there. I’m not much for taking bows as a rule. The 15th anniversary of this column on Mr. Showbiz happened last October and I didn’t say boo. But I’m nonetheless trying to think of some way to celebrate HE’s tenth anniversary without sounding, you know, blowhardy. It’s been a bitch but I’m very proud of having hung in and toughed it out and…well, succeeded. (I was going to say “survived with some measure of comfort” but I’ve done better than that.) The multiple-posts-per-day format began around April 2006; before that I was posting a twice-weekly column plus a forum (“Wired”) for rat-a-tat-tat items. WordPress informs that I’ve written 27,000 posts since the beginning, but that doesn’t add up if you average something like five stories per day x 365 days x ten years, which comes to 18,000 and change. I’m posting this because while I printed out some of the earliest columns I’m trying to find records of its appearance online, and so far I’m coming up blank. I’ll probably make serious hay about this when the actual anniversary rolls around.

Three days ago In Contention‘s Kris Tapley threw a few derisive swipes in my direction on Twitter. My offense was having written that the 2014 Venice Film Festival selections seemed “interesting and well-chosen as far as they go, but where are the sexy, award-season attractions? Or at least a surprise or two that no one saw coming? You need a little pop-pop-fizz-fizz with your kale salad and steamed carrots or the troops will get bored.” Here are the three Tapley tweets that took issue with this plus a little clarification from yours truly:

Tapley Tweet #1: “Not everything is a glitzy fucking gala with a hot-ticket after-party for you to go and be a sycophant. There’s a whole world out there.” Wells reply: “Kris can unzip his tuxedo slacks and piss-spray all he wants, but apart from the choice of Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu‘s Birdman as the opener and perhaps Ramin Bahrani’s 99 Homes, the 2014 Venice selections seem to exude a certain kind of engaging, presumably intelligent but probably-not-world-class quality — distinctive, nicely done, mildly intriguing, possibly second-tier-ish. Kris knows that and still he calls me — me! — a red-carpet sycophant type. He knows as well as I do what kind of aromas that the two Al Pacino films (David Gordon Green‘s Manglehorn and Barry Levinson‘s The Humbling) are putting out. Tapley has just as good of an idea or gut instinct as I do about Peter Bogdanovich’s She’s Funny That Way, Michael Almereyda‘s Cymbeline, Andrew Nicoll‘s Good Kill, Abel Ferrara‘s Pasolini, etc. Venice is the kickoff of ‘the game’ and Kris knows that. He knows that Venice has premiered many, many ‘game’ films before, and he knows that the qualities that tend to get films into the game in the first place often tend to translate more often than not into riveting, first-rate or at least highly noteworthy cinema.”

From Andrew O’Hehir‘s Salon review of Woody Allen‘s Magic in the Moonlight: “Every so-called plot twist is telegraphed in advance, the chemistry between Emma Stone and Colin Firth is negligible (although they both look terrific in period evening wear), and the cast of fine actors around them is arranged as types rather than individuals: Hamish Linklater as the insipid rich boy in love with Sophie, Jacki Weaver as the credulous old biddy, Eileen Atkins (bringing a hint of life to the dismal proceedings) as Stanley’s onetime bohemian aunt. But those things, even the zero-wattage romance, aren’t as fatal as the first-draft quality of the script and the lethargy of the direction.”

That’s been a hallmark of Allen’s films for some time now, hasn’t it? A first-draft feeling to the script and a lack of innovative pizazz in the shooting and cutting? Didn’t Blue Jasmine, Midnight in Paris, Vicky Cristina Barcelona and even Match Point feel this way also? I’ve been bitching about this all along and it doesn’t seem to matter to anyone, least of all Allen. The DNA that goes into his brand is not going to change. Who goes to a Woody Allen film these days expecting to savor the push-pull engagement that was palpable in his ’70s, ’80s and ’90s films? Older artists tend to be less reflexive, no? They’re not absorbing as much as much as they did when they were younger and “in the game,” as it were. Their arteries tend to harden.

George Miller‘s Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome (’85) had that Tina Turner song, but it wasn’t the sequel that fans of Miller’s Mad Max (’79) and The Road Warrior (’82) really wanted. It’s possible that Miller’s Mad Max: Fury Road (Warner Bros., 5.15.15) might be what the faithful have been looking for all along. Rockin’ dystopian kick-ass actioners weren’t much of a thing when Mad Max opened 35 years ago. The Road Warrior (called Mad Max 2 outside of the U.S,) was the first big hit in this realm. Just as George Romeo never successfully expanded his repertoire beyond his zombie films, Miller has never really broken free of his Australian wasteland savage-madness films.

Are you going to tell me that the Henry Cavill who starred in Man of Steel showed up today at ComicCon? Photos can add weight, I realize, so the below photo (taken during Cavill’s appearance in Hall H) may be “fibbing” to some extent, but it looks to me like Cavill has nearly become Ernest Borgnine in Bad Day at Black Rock (’55). Let me guess — the plot of Batman vs. Superman: Dawn of Justice, which began shooting two months ago, involves Superman getting depressed and turning to drink and trans-fat foods…something like that.

(l.) Henry Cavill in Man of Steel; (r.) during an appearance today (Saturday, 7.26) at ComicCon.

I went to the Landmark last night to see Anton Corbijn‘s A Most Wanted Man for the second time. It’s a subtle, finely tuned thing. It was satisfying to note that the clues and indications seemed easier to spot this time. In yesterday’s review I called it “one of those films you want to see twice to scan for whatever clues may have been revealed early on but which you, the all-but-clueless or perhaps not-smart-enough viewer, missed the first time.” I did notice that the sound at the Landmark seemed sharper and more precise than at the Wilshire Screening Room, where I first caught it. What sounded murky or muttering at the Wilshire was clear and discernible at the Landmark.

I was given a complimentary ticket and therefore didn’t have a chance to choose my own seat. I got there in the middle of the trailers and was shown to my seat, which was in the middle of a crowded row of 70something bluehairs. I didn’t want to sit there but the row in front was half empty. So I stood and waited for latecomers to arrive, figuring that at least a couple of seats would be available five or ten minutes after the film began. I waited five minutes (the show was scheduled to start at 7:10 pm) and sure enough, two or three people arrived. Four empty seats left. I waited another five and nobody else showed. At 7:20 pm I took a seat on the aisle and settled in.

Macleans‘ Barry Hertz called to chat the other day about Guardians of the Galaxy star Chris Pratt, whose performance as a catcher-turned-insecure-first-baseman in Moneyball was a standout in that Bennett Miller film, and who occupied the vibe of a genuine Navy Seal in Kathryn Bigelow‘s Zero Dark Thirty. We all need to pay the bills and cover our kids’ education, but let’s hope that Pratt…oh, hell, he’s going for the dough and that’s that.

From one ComicCon hater to another (or at least someone who parks his car in the general vicinity of my garage, at least as far as sharing a deep-seated loathing for fanboy CG-driven fantasy fare is concerned)…thank you! It’ll take many generations, but when the Eloi finally emerge as the dominant global species historians will look back and say, “It all began with the ComicCon mentality.” Here’s a reply to one of Harris’s claims.

It was announced today at ComicCon that Michael Mann‘s Blackhat (formerly Cyber), a thriller about cyber-terrorism with Chris Hemsworth, will open platform-style later this year in order to qualify for award-season honors. Mann and Hemsworth unveiled the first footage of Blackhat in Hall H. Deadline‘s Michael Fleming is reporting that Blackhat “may qualify for the Oscars this year in a strategy much like Lone Survivor this past awards season.” If they follow the LS playbook it’ll open just after Christmas. The wide opening will be 1.16.05. The trailer “looks big-scale and sensational…Mann at his best,” Fleming enthused.

Hemsworth offered this quote roughly a year ago: “I just finished [Blackhat]. It’s based in the world of cyber-terrorism….a sort of cat-and-mouse international heist-thriller. Basically, something similar to the Chicago Board of Trade is hacked into and it sets off a chain of events around the world, affecting the stock market. The code that was used to hack into it…my character had written it years before and he happens to be in prison for cyber crime. He is pulled out and offered a deal if he works with a joint task force of the FBI and the Chinese government in trying to track this guy down. It starts off in Chicago and ends up in Kuala Lumpur, in Hong Kong and in Jakarta.”