Day: October 14, 2014

Yesterday morning The Atlantic‘s David Sims posted a hatchet piece about poor Jason Reitman, who’s in a hole right now because of the double-whammy of Labor Day and Men, Women & Children. Reitman will probably climb out sooner or later but for now Sims has him pegged as (a) “a fascinating cautionary tale” and (b) the new M. Night Shyamalan, “a wunderkind gone sour.” Sims is saying that Men, Women & Children sucked eggs because Reitman “committed the fundamental hubristic error of thinking himself a great social commentator…taking his material far too seriously, [having] lost sight of the humor and humanity of his earlier works. Up in the Air really felt like it had something sweeping to say about the state of our nation, and it did it by telling a personal story. By contrast, Men, Women & Children explicitly criticizes people for having their heads in their phones, but forgets to ground the story in anything relatable.” Everybody drops the ball at one time or another. Reitman in the shower: “Each time I find myself…flat on my face, I pick myself up and get back in the rayaaace…that’s life!”

Quentin Tarantino‘s Pulp Fiction opened exactly 20 years ago today, on 10.14.94. No Tarantino film since has felt as fresh and nervy and perfectly in synch with the times. Where that movie was “at” was exactly where Hollywood and 30ish yuppies and the culture-at-large were “at”…only nobody knew it until they saw it. And then it happened…pow! That was the peak, and it’s been a long slow downhill swirl for Tarantino ever since. Imagine the glory of being Tarantino and being able to say “Fucking-A, I did that,” but also the agony of waking up every day and knowing you’ll never fucking do it again. QT’s next is The Hateful Eight, which I saw performed live in downtown LA last April. It’s so far below Pulp Fiction…I don’t want to talk about it. The reason that the John Travolta-Uma Thurman dance scene wasn’t 100% perfect was, of course, due to the fact that Travolta wore gold-toe socks. I believed 20 years ago and I still feel today that those gold tips take this scene down a notch. It’s obviously not a big thing, but it’s just enough to get in the way.

When Javier Bardem snagged a Best Supporting Actor Oscar for playing the malevolent Anton Chigurh in Joel and Ethan Coen‘s No Country For Old Men (’07), he knew he’d be at the top of the list to play flamboyant bad guys in big-studio flicks, which of course would mean hefty paychecks. How many paycheck villain roles has Bardem played over the last six and half years? Only one — “Raoul Silva” in 2012’s reportedly signing to play another paycheck baddie in another big-budet flick, Pirates of the Caribbean 5, which will open in June 2017. Bardem and wife Penelope Cruz have two young kids, kids are expensive, they have to put them through college…I understand. Bardem is cool. He’s no Liam Neeson.

Journos who missed the initial Los Angeles screening of 3D Exodus footage on Tuesday, 9.30 (which I couldn’t attend due to covering the New York Film Festival) will get another looksee on Thursday at 1 pm on the 20th Century Fox lot. The exact same presentation will be shown to New Yorkers that day, screening three times (10 am, 1 pm, 6 pm) at the AMC Empire on 42nd Street. Except Thursday’s footage will include more material than what was shown two weeks ago, which consisted of eight scenes that ran 37 minutes.

If Zach Galifianakis can drop 50 pounds, so can LexG. Totally achievable if you stop drinking and stop eating crap and work out two or three times a week. I’m presuming ZG did this to up his success rate with the ladies…fine. He has my temporary respect for not only the weight-drop but for not playing a repulsive diaper-man in Birdman, but let’s see how this goes. I suspect it may be a phase. I know that he’s the least funny guy I’ve ever watched in my life and that I despise Between Two Ferns. He’s on the right path but I don’t trust him.

I’m always watering my plants too much or too little — I’m good at misting but I never water them just enough. And I’m always putting off scooping out the cat shit. Not to mention taking out the garbage. Instead of doing that I put my foot in the trash can and cram it down. That always buys me an extra day or two. It usually takes me three to four days to do a wash…make that four or five days. A couple of days of thinking about it, and then thinking about it a little more and making sure I have enough liquid detergent, etc. And then doing the first wash and then forgetting about putting it in the dryer for a day or so, and then finally doing that and starting the second wash. I also have to go down to the Cole Avenue DMV on 10.29 and renew my driver’s license and get my motorcycle license and also add my Yamaha 400 to my AAA insurance and yaddah-yaddah. And poor Zak has a castration appointment at Laurel Pet Hospital next Tuesday. I hate all this stuff. Well, I don’t “hate” it but I wish it would just go away. I just want to write and fiddle and ride my sickle and see movies and pet my cats. But it won’t.

I missed Andrew Rossi and Kate Novack‘s Ivory Tower, an allegedly striking examination of the appalling student-loan situation, at last January’s Sundance Film Festival. Having been urged by Jett (struggling himself with a massive Syracuse University Bachelor’s degree debt) to see it, I’m finally renting it on Vudu and catching it tonight. Elizabeth Warren recently told Bill Maher that the U.S. government realizes an annual $60 billion profit on student loans? It’s a big corrupt racket and for what? So some college buddy will will tell you about a job or recommend you to someone? Edward Snowden never even graduated from high school. I’m self-educated (I barely attended college) and look at me….”made it, ma! Top of the world!”

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This morning’s question from Gold Derby‘s Tom O’Neil: “Can Big Hero 6 take down Lego Movie for Best Animated Feature? Please sign in and update your predix.”

HE answer: I respect the animated realm as far as it goes (including, if you must, anime) but I hate watching it for the most part, and that definitely includes anime. Anything drawn or dreamt or hard-drivey. If I never see anything swirly or magical or shimmering or visionary-for-vision’s-sake again, it’ll be too soon. Aside from the usual welcome exceptions from the world-class visionaries (Hayao Miyazaki, Fantastic Mr. Fox‘s Wes Anderson, the Lego Movie guys, Brad Bird, the Disney/Katzenberg run of the late ’80s to mid ’90s, etc.) and the usual high levels of craft, animated films are mostly about the Big Shill — selling tickets and merchandise to families. Take your corporate family neckrubby pitty-pat hucksterism and shove it. It’s an open coin toss as to which I hate more — animated or just about anything Asian (excepting the rare exceptions).