Month: July 2016

“Blessed are they who have known the full scope of 20th Century cinema and the best of times in that sense. The first stirrings of cinematic greatness occured in the 1920s (Lang, Murnau, Griffith, Keaton, Von Stroheim), and then came the long second movement which began in the mid ’30s and ended…well, you tell me. The early ’80s? The late ’90s? The end never came? I think things are still humming and crackling for the most part, but you could certainly argue that the arrival of the post-cinematic, sub-literate, sensation-and-explosion-seeking, digitally-attuned generation of jizz-whizz moviegoers (by far the least educated and most reality-averse in Hollywood history) and the filmmakers in their midst has brought things to an all-time low.” — cribbed from a brief tribute piece to critic Stanley Kaufman, who passed on 10.9.13.

If I was sitting in a hotel lobby and a guy wearing these hiking sandals walked in and sat nearby, I would get up and…I don’t know if I’d sit as far away as possible or just leave the hotel, but it would be one of these two. If I was conducting interviews for a staff job and a male applicant came in wearing these things, he would so not get the job. If I really liked a film and had asked to interview the director, and he/she walked into the hotel room wearing these things I would find a way of walking back my rave. Or I might publish a “mea culpa, what was I thinking?” piece. One presumes no self-respecting director would wear a pair, but who knows? Older guys seem to wear these things the most, but I suppose some women do also. To his credit, Viggo Mortensen doesn’t wear a pair in Captain Fantastic.

It may be that Jeffrey Blitz‘s Table 19 (Fox Searchlight, 1.20.17) is a cut above. The trailer seems to suggest that. Maybe. Eloise (Anna Kendrick) feels angry and humiliated over being suddenly dumped by her bearded, not-a-great-catch boyfriend (Wyatt Russell), with whom she’d planned to attend a big wedding reception with. She goes anyway, glum and seething, but gradually wakes up to the opportunity of hooking up with a nice guy who’s obviously higher calibre (Thomas Cocquerel). Trailers always lie, but the illusion being sold is that the film may be nicely cut, well scored and performed with restraint. The script is by Mark and Jay Duplass. But why trailer a film that won’t pop for another seven months?

Star Trek veteran and “out” pathfinder George Takei doesn’t care for John Cho‘s Hikaru Sulu suddenly being revealed as a closeted gay guy in the forthcoming Star Trek Beyond (Paramount, 7.22). Cho recently told Australia’s Herald Sun that Sulu will be revealed in the new film as a closet case. What’s the beef? Takei says it feels to him like a facile decision on the part of director Justin Lin and screenwriter/costar Simon Pegg.

Takei, who played Sulu in the 1960s Trek TV series, told The Hollywood Reporter‘s Seth Abramovitch that it would be better if Pegg and Lin could “be imaginative and create a character who has a history of being gay, rather than Sulu, who had been straight all this time, suddenly being revealed as being closeted.”

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If a cop pulls me over or stops me on the street, I always mildly submit. I become an obedient cocker spaniel at a dog show. “Yes, sir,” “Yes, officer”…moderate tone of voice, not too much eye contact, head slightly bowed. I instantly and repeatedly convey my respect and acknowledgment of police authority. What are the odds that a cop would shoot me if I reached for my wallet inside my jacket or out of my back pocket? Very low as I always tell them I’m reaching for it. Probably next to nonexistent. What are the odds that a cop might shoot Don Lemon if he did the same? Obviously a bit higher. What are the odds of a cop shooting a black guy who’s not as cautious, carefully mannered and well-dressed as Lemon? Even higher.

“If we don’t love another, this separatism, this cancer will kill our body” — Dallas Mayor Mike Rawlings, speaking during Dallas vigil around 12:40 pm Central.

I learned about the Dallas shootings just after the 7pm all-media Ghostbusters screening. A sniper shooting cops. More than one shooter? Apparently not. Three cops dead, then four, then five. Right away I strongly suspected why the shootings had occured — instinctual, rash, mad-dog revenge for the killings of Alton Sterling and Philando Castile at the hands of policemen. Hate begets hate. But I said nothing. If you say anything the least bit incisive in the wake of this kind of nightmare, the twitter dogs will pounce.

Somebody tweeted this morning that the atmosphere in the country is starting to feel like 1968.

I took a walk around WeHo around 10:15 pm or so. Thinking about it, thinking about it. The very high likelihood of a revenge motive, hours after the deaths of Sterling and Castile, obviously suggested a loose-cannon, hair-trigger mentality. I mentioned the analogy of Sonny Corleone — hot-tempered, fly off the handle, blood for blood, exacerbating, making things ten times worse. You wouldn’t believe how bone-stupid some of the responses were.

Inflammatory headlines began to pop — N.Y. Post, Drudge Report, TheWrap. Then the cops got the shooter — Micah Xavier Johnson, a 25 year-old ex-military guy from Mesquite, Texas. Exploded to death with a robot bomb. Then this morning’s press conference featuring the Dallas Police Chief. Then the Dallas vigil.

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From Alonso Duralde‘s 7.2 Wrap review, filed from Karlovy Vary: “If Mel Gibson makes a great movie, and no one in America wants to see it, does it make a sound? His last lead in a genre film, Get the Gringo, got positive reviews in 2012 but had a blink-and-you-missed-it theatrical release.

“It would be a real shame if his latest, Blood Father (Lionsgate, 8.26), were to meet the same fate — it’s grungy and action-packed, yes, but it also features the kind of sharp characterization and clever dialogue that justifies the presence of an old pro like Gibson.

“Director Jean-François Richet (Mesrine 1&2, the Assault on Precinct 13 remake) keeps the action set pieces and shootouts coming with bracing regularity. And unlike many thrillers, Blood Father doesn’t grind to a halt while it’s catching its breath, thanks to the spot-on screenplay by Andrea Berloff and Peter Craig.

“The film is loaded with lots of great two-person scenes that allow the cast to do something besides run and shoot. There’s a lot of terrific honest-to-gosh banter going on here.”

There’s a cloud hanging over Drake Doremus‘ Equals (A24, 7.15). It’s taken forever to finally open, and it’s coping with failing grades from Rotten Tomatoes (52%) and Metacritic (37%). But it’s not as bad as all that. I wouldn’t even call it “bad’ — it’s just a tad underwhelming. I couldn’t hear 65% of the dialogue when I watched it at the Wilshire Screening Room, but I respected it as a reasonably decent tribute to George Lucas‘s THX 1138. Same milieu, same theme, similar story…but a little bit different. I’m presuming that the vast majority of Millenials and younger GenXers have never heard of Lucas’s 1971 film, much less seen it. (The publicist who was checking off names at my screening is among them.) Kristen Stewart and Nicholas Hoult, as a pair of suppressed would-be lovers in a futuristic Orwellian society, are reasonably compelling. Not a great film, but watchable.

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That Mary Elizabeth Winstead kerfuffle that happened last March (i.e., my tweeting that her performance in 10 Cloverfield Lave was overacted, which inspired a mob of Twitter bitches to call for my disemboweling) reminded me of a basic human trait. If you say something even mildly contentious to or about a celebrity, people will foam at the mouth. It’s a monkey-obeisance instinct, built into our genes. ”We love you, important movie star! That guy who said those unkind things? We’ll defend you by beating him to a pulp!”

It happened again last night. Patton Oswalt had attended last night’s Ghostbusters screening at the Grove, and he tweeted that it was “fun, scary, terrific.” I immediately tweeted the following: “Due respect, Patton, but I’m not buying this. No offense.” The twitter dogs howled and screamed, and their logic was breathtaking. I hadn’t yet seen Ghostbusters (I’m actually catching it tonight) so how could I possibly have a doubting opinion about Patton’s admiring words?

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Like everyone else I’m hoping for drama and perhaps even a taste of rebellion during the Republican National Convention (7.18 thru 7.21). The latter is probably a fantasy given that most Republicans, fearful of alienating Trump followers, don’t have the balls to stand up. We’ve been reading for weeks that many establishment Republicans won’t be attending, and that many of the usual corporate sponsors won’t be there either. Nobody wants the Trump stink on their clothes. It seems odd, given all this, that the Creative Coalition, a well-funded, ultra-lefty entertainment industry do-gooder charity, is throwing a cocktail party. To what end?

Criterion’s Dr. Strangelove Bluray popped 10 days ago. Here’s my 6.11 non-review. The clip after the jump is from the opening moments of Criterion’s 1992 laserdisc of Dr. Strangelove, which was mastered with alternating aspect ratios (partly 1.37, partly 1.66), presumably in accordance with Kubrick’s wishes. I have an old Columbia/TriStar Strangelove DVD that also uses this a.r., but you’ll never see a boxy Strangelove in high-def…ever. If I had been in charge of mastering the Criterion Bluray I would have included a 1.37 version for “boxy is beautiful” types, but we’re a dying breed. Guys like Bob Furmanek and Pete Apruzzese have seen to that.

Kubrick’s DR. STRANGELOVE is just one of the 800-plus Criterion titles on sale at @BNBuzz! https://t.co/UOUZqgckNH pic.twitter.com/f2Nb2pPEPl

— Criterion Collection (@Criterion) July 6, 2016

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