“No Sale” for Bailey’s Accuser

The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences announced Tuesday evening that an accusation of inappropriate touching against Academy president John Bailey has been investigated and found wanting. In other words Bailey is officially off the hook — i.e., Henry Fonda during the last ten minutes of The Wrong Man.

Bailey’s accuser hasn’t been identified and most likely never will be, but this sounds like the first high-profile accusation of sexual misbehavior to have been discredited in quite a while.

In an in-house memo distributed on Friday, 3.23, Bailey stated that a woman had complained about a single incident that happened more than a decade ago. She alleged that Bailey had “attempted” some sort of inappropriate physical contact while she and the legendary dp were riding in a transport van on a movie set.

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Eff You, Dad…No Offense

Mark Raso’s Kodachrome, a road-trip dramedy, reunites an acclaimed, dying photojournalist (Ed Harris) with his estranged, record company executive son (Jason Sudeikis) as they journey across the American heartland.

“Shot on 35mm, and full of odes to the greatness of analog technology, Kodachrome isn’t nearly as cranky as it sounds, and thanks to likable performances from Sudeikis, Harris and Elizabeth Olsen, it’s an entirely watchable if entirely by-the-numbers throwback to the sweet-and-sour Sundance-style indie films of yore. But there’s a blurry boundary between ‘vintage’ and simply ‘passé,’ and Kodachrome is too often caught on the wrong side of that line.” — from Andrew Barker‘s Variety review, posted on 9.8.17.

I’d see this if I knew that Olsen’s character doesn’t wind up boinking Sudeikis or, better yet, doesn’t do Sudeikis at all but shows Harris a little third-act mercy because he’s dying of liver cancer. Or she does them both — how about that? Anything unusual would suffice.

Costarring Bruce Greenwood, Wendy Crewson and Dennis Haysbert. Premiering on Netflix on 4.20.

Laugh If You Want

If only I’d surrendered myself to the guitar in my early to mid teens. Then I could’ve been the cool guy who could play like this at parties, and I could’ve done much better with the girls. Instead I became a mediocre trumpet player and then, in my late teens and early 20s, a mediocre drummer. I was a half-decent writer in junior and senior high, but the light didn’t go on. I got into sketching around eight or nine, but I never felt the current. When I was 16 or 17 I took a summer class at Silvermine Arts Center; part of the curriculum was sketching nude female models. Then I helped edit a 16mm film called “Beyond Embarassment.” Then I got into writing again in my early 20s, and finally I began to feel it. But I still feel bad about not learning guitar.

Instant Guillotine

“Are we really going to have only capital punishment?,” IAC chairman Barry Diller asks Maureen Dowd in 3.24 N.Y. Times profile. “Because right now, that’s what we have. You get accused, you’re obliterated. Charlie Rose ceases to exist.”

I was going to say something along these lines, but I was afraid of the Robespierres. Sexual harassment and misconduct are really bad things, and should never be waved away. But so is driving under the influence, which flirts with destruction and death and all kinds of horrible. If you’re busted for D.U.I. you’ll get fined, your license can be suspended for up to six months and you could go to jail (48 hours to six months). But if the D.U.I penalty was the same as that for sexual harassment or misconduct, the inebriated offender would be taken straight to the hanging tree.


Barry Diller, as pictured in the 3.24 Dowd profile.

Sexual offenders should receive stiff or even harsh punishment, depending on the particulars, but I don’t think their throats should be slit like chickens. After a suitable penalty and/or period of discomfort they should be allowed to show contrition, to demonstrate their remorse and willingness to grow and transcend, to show that they’re not arrogant hooligans. The punishment, in short, should be stern but not overly savage.

“I see it in our companies, where the relationships between people are changing,” Mr. Diller says. “We recently had a formal complaint made by a woman who said that she was at a convention with her colleagues and she was asked to have a drink with her boss. Period. That was the complaint. And we said, ‘Here’s the thing. Anybody can ask you anything, other than let’s presume something illegal, and you have the right to say ‘Yes’ or ‘No.’ If it’s ‘Yes,’ go in good health and if it’s ‘No’ then it’s full stop.’

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Get It Right

The title of Adam McKay‘s forthcoming political drama about the diabolical and Machiavellian Dick Cheney is Backseat — not Back Seat. Annapurna will release it on 12.14.18, which is a little late in the season.

A grotesquely bulked-up Christian Bale as Cheney, Amy Adams as wife Lynne Cheney, Oscar champ Sam Rockwell as George W. Bush, Steve Carell as Donald Rumsfeld, Bill Pullman as Nelson Rockefeller, Alison Pill as daughter Mary Cheney and — wait for it — Tyler Perry as Secretary of State Colin Powell.

Executive Suite

What intrigues me about Succession, an upcoming HBO original series launching in June, is that it comes from irreverent British writer Jesse Armstrong (The Thick of It, In the Loop, Four Lions). The Big Short‘s Adam McKay directed the pilot, executive produced with Will Ferrell.

Within ten seconds you want Jeremy Strong‘s character, a Type-A prick and Son of the Big Man who wants it all, to be crushed. The imperturbable Brian Cox plays Big Daddy. Costarring Kieran Culkin, Sarah Snook, Nicholas Braun, Matthew Macfadyen and Hiam Abbass.

Executive Suite was a 1954 Robert Wise drama about the internal struggle for control of a furniture manufacturing company after the CEO croaks. Costarring William Holden, June Allyson, Barbara Stanwyck, Fredric March and Walter Pidgeon.

Worst Of Times

Yesterday on Facebook HE’s own Jordan Ruimy lashed out at the shallowness and repetition of the twenty-teens. “As the end of the decade approaches, I fear we’ve basically gone through the worst decade for American movies since the ’80s. It’s a good thing TV is going through an incredible golden age that far surpasses most of the stuff being released in theaters.”

Naturally there’s a corresponding Hadley Freeman piece in the Guardian today: “From Top Gun to Stand By Me: Why the 1980s Is My Favorite Film Decade.”

Remember that Paul Schrader quote from a 2016 Little White Lies interview: “In the ’70s it wasn’t that the films were better, it was the audiences.”

Ruimy response from Tony Joe Stemme: “It’s easy to blame Hollywood for the lack of substantive, reality-based movies that get made, but the blame is squarely on audiences. They’re the ones that have made adult-themed dramas and comedies practically extinct. Folks see only superhero, sci-fi, fantasy and animated features? That’s what Hollywood is going to make. Kramer vs. Kramer made $400M in adjusted gross to today’s dollars. FOUR HUNDRED MILLION. For a divorce drama. Would a movie like that make even a quarter of that today?? Doubtful. Look in the mirror.”

Posted on 8.25.17: “117 Films That’ve made The 21st Century Worth Living“. Posted on 4.22.16: “Best Films of Second Decade of 21st Century…So Far.”

Hopper, As It Were

The size of the diner in Edward Hopper‘s “Nighthawks“, particularly for one allegedly based on an actual diner somewhere in the West Village, has always struck me as cavernous. More like an art gallery abruptly transformed into a greasy spoon. Sure enough, in a 1962 interview with Art Institute of Chicago’s Katherine Kuh, Hopper said the painting “was suggested by a restaurant on Greenwich Avenue where two streets meet.” He added, “I simplified the scene a great deal, and made the restaurant bigger.”

Emphasis

In the just-posted “Deadline’s Cannes Corrections” piece, I noted that Nancy Tartaglione and Andreas Wiseman had pooh-poohed the possibility of Woody Allen‘s A Rainy Day in New York being offered a slot at the 2018 Cannes Film Festival.

They dismissed this because “it would make for an awkward red carpet, given that some actors from the film” — Timothee Chalamet for one — “have donated their wages to various [#TimesUp-related] movements.”

At the end of my piece I asked Tartaglione and Andreas Wiseman “why so dimissive?” They acknowledged in their article that Cannes topper Thierry Fremaux “has historically maintained that he chooses films based on merit,” but then they turned around and derided the Rainy Day possibility over a relatively minor red-carpet attendance issue. “Where is the merit in that consideration?,” I asked. “Is this festival about artistic integrity or isn’t it?”


Elle Fanning, Woody Allen during filming of A Rainy Day in New York.

Soon after posting HE reader Zach Heltzel reminded that “red-carpet starfucking is definitely a factor for Fremaux.”

“Of course glamour and flashbulbs are a consideration,” I replied, “but the Woody Allen thing feels like a matter of honor and merit and integrity.

“Thierry has invited Woody to Cannes seven times (Hollywood Ending, Match Point, Vicky Cristina Barcelona, Irrational Man, You Will Meet A Tall Dark Stranger, Midnight in Paris, Cafe Society) over the last 16 years. He’s been a staunch admirer and supporter of the man. Presuming that Amazon won’t be blocking a potential screening of Rainy Day in New York by withholding the DCP, it would be reprehensible to abandon Allen in this, his darkest hour since the early ‘90s, especially with Amazon presumably inclined to either dump A Rainy Day in New York or give it some kind of bum’s-rush, straight-to-streaming release.

“If Cannes is about cinematic merit first and foremost and A Rainy Day in New York is at least as good as the weakest Allen films that have premiered in Cannes (Hollywood Ending, Irrational Man, You Will Meet A Tall Dark Stranger), it seems to me, given Fremaux’s steadfast relationship with Allen over the last decade-plus, that he’s honor-bound to offer him a festival slot for A Rainy Day in New York.

“Because at the end of the day and given the facts throwing shadow upon the 26-year-old allegations against Allen in the matter of Dylan Farrow, there is no alternative but to conclude that the bulk of the evidence indicates that Allen is not guilty of immoral or criminal behavior. At best the issue is one of serious uncertainty and ambiguity.”

Deadline’s Cannes Corrections

About a week after Variety‘s Peter Debruge and Elsa Keslassy posted their 3.14 Cannes spitball piece, Deadline‘s Nancy Tartaglione and Andreas Wiseman shared some different projections.

Nothing is set in stone, but Tartaglione and Wiseman said we can probably forget about eight films that have been mentioned as possible Cannes ’18 titles — Karyn Kusama‘s Destroyer, Damien Chazelle’s First Man, Jacques Audiard’s The Sisters Brothers, Yorgos LanthimosThe Favorite, Richard Linklater’s Where’d You Go Bernadette, Steve McQueen’s Widows, Lenny Abrahamson’s The Little Stranger and even Paolo Sorrentino’s Loro.

But Asghar Farhadi’s Everybody Knows, a Spanish-language film costarring Javier Bardem, Penelope Cruz and Ricardo Darin, could be the opening-night attraction.

Xavier Dolan’s The Death And Life Of John F Donovan is a big maybe (“It could cut very close”).

Thierry Fremaux screening Ocean’s Eight at Cannes ’18 would be…I don’t know what to call it but “sick joke” is one of the terms that comes to mind. Ditto Solo: A Star Wars Story, but maybe.

Orson WellesThe Other Side Of The Wind, a Netflix release, will probably screen under Cannes Classics. Two other Netflix films, Jeremy Saulnier‘s Hold The Dark and David Mackenzie’s Outlaw King, would have to screen outside competition, per a recent Cannes declaration.

Thomas Vinterberg’s Kursk and Brian De Palma’s Domino could be programmed.

David Robert Mitchell‘s Under The Silver Lake is “tipped to factor this year”, they say, and Harmony Korine’s Beach Bum is said to be a dark horse.

Other likelies include Luca Guadagnino’s Suspiria, Terry Gilliam’s The Man Who Killed Don Quixote and Lars Von Trier’s The House That Jack Built. Ditto Mike Leigh’s Peterloo, Laszlo NemesSunset and Pawel Pawlikowski‘s Cold War.

Jennifer Kent’s The Nightingale may not be ready in time.

Regarding the possibility of A Rainy Day in New York, Tartaglione and Wiseman wrote the following: “In a somewhat surprising bit of speculation, it was suggested to us that Woody Allen might make a return with A Rainy Day In New York. However, given that some actors from the film have donated their wages to various movements, it would make for an awkward red carpet.”

Wells to Tartaglione & Wiseman: Why are you so skeptical and patronizing about the possibility of A Rainy Day in New York? You said in your piece that Fremaux “has historically maintained that he chooses films based on merit,” but you deride the possibility of Rainy Day because some of the cast won’t attend the red-carpet premiere? Where is the merit in that consideration?

You’re aware, obviously, that Fremaux has been inviting Woody to show his films at Cannes for many, many years, but he’s suddenly going to cut and run because Timothee Chalamet and other cast members might not attend the premiere at the Grand Lumiere? So what? Is this festival about artistic integrity or isn’t it?

Another Reynolds Assessment

We’re currently in the middle of a “Be Gracious to Burt Reynolds” week. The 82 year-old former superstar, who enjoyed a 13-year run at the top (’72 to ’84), has been making the interview rounds to promote The Last Movie Star (A24, 3.30), which isn’t faring all that well on Rotten Tomatoes.

I still haven’t seen it, but I will soon. Here’s an excerpt from Dennis Harvey‘s Variety review, which was posted on 1.18.18 out of the Palm Springs Film festival.

“Be kind” means you can lightly allude to Reynolds having messed up his acting career by making one arrogant, bone-headed move after another after another, etc. Those fast-car movies. Blowing his post-Boogie Nights momentum. Getting bad plastic surgery, wearing those terrible rugs. But you can’t actually mention it.

You also can’t mention how Reynolds looks really withered, poor guy. He was such a strapping good-ole-boy in his heyday. How cruel the aging process can be when so inclined.

Posted on 8.4.14: “Reynolds initiated his demise by making all those stupid shitkicker paycheck movies with the yokelish Hal Needham. Reynolds had a pretty good run at the top (’72 to ’84), and then he was done.

“Reynolds-the-actor (as opposed to Reynolds-the-box-office-attraction) was great in Deliverance, half-good in Shamus, The Man Who Loved Cat Dancing, At Long Last Love, regrettable in Lucky Lady and Hustle, good in Semi-Tough, very good in Starting Over, good in Sharky’s Machine and Best Friends, decent in The Man Who Loved Women…and that was it until he played an older thief in Bill Forsyth‘s Breaking In (’89). And then nothing came of that. And then along came Paul Thomas Anderson‘s Boogie Nights (’97) and Reynolds called it shit and fired his agent, etc.

Posted from Key West on 11.17.16: Burt Reynolds sat for a q & a this evening at Key West’s San Carlos Institute following a screening of Jesse Moss‘s Bandit (which isn’t half bad). Good old Burt. His usual, familiar smoothie self — cool and collected, deadpan humor, mellow vibe. But with a beard and tinted shades. The audience was laughing, applauding, in love. Burt’s legs are on the frail, shaky side but he walked out without a cane — good fellow. Here’s an mp3 of the whole thing. The interviewer was Rolling Stone critic David Fear.

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