Maybe it was unrealistic to hope that Kevin Connolly‘s Gotti (Vertical/Sunrider, 6.15) might aspire to some kind of exceptional, Coppola-like vision or scheme. Something darker, sadder, deeper or grander than just another Rise and Fall of Legs Diamond-type deal.
The Gotti trailer suggests a brisk narrative and most likely a reasonably engaging sit — John Travolta‘s lead performance is obviously carnivorous — but it feels so rote, so familiar, so “is that all there is?” There may be more depth to Gotti than what the trailer is indicating, but right now it feels like run-of-the-mill bullets, bluster, brutality, braggadocio and brain matter.
An AP story is reporting that Gotti will premiere out-of-competition with a special 5.15 gala screening at the Cannes Film Festival.
European culture and gourmet cuisine often go hand-in-hand. 11 years ago I happened upon a small family-owned osteria in Rome’s Trastevere district. I can still taste a smallish pasta dish I ordered, served at just the right temperature and bursting with the flavor of fresh tomatoes and odd spices. I also recall wandering around Portofino, a seaside Italian village not far from Cinque Terre, a few years earlier. A bit touristy, but with the usual historical aromas and architectural charms and a warm, wonderful sense of “so glad I’m here…life doesn’t get much better than this.”
I’m mentioning these experiences because last night a friend and I visited Portofino, a respected Italian restaurant in Wilton, Connecticut — the woodsy, whitebread, not-overwhelmingly-liberal town where I went to high school for a couple of years.
It looked inviting from the outside, but I was hit with a big fat “uh-oh” the instant I walked in — three large flatscreens in the bar area showing ESPN. A sports-bar vibe (a general Hollywood Elsewhere no-no) always means “watch it…this may be an okay restaurant, but it’s catering to Ordinary Joes so grim up for some agreeable but unexceptional food.” That’s what we got. Acceptable meh. But with a nice candlelit atmosphere (if you were facing away from the bar area).
This is what upper Fairfield County dining is often about — cushy comfort vibes but minus the sublime flavors, seasonings and sauces. For people willing to settle. Not unpleasant but you’re also thinking “this is not what great servings can and should be — inoffensive but substitute-level.”
A producer friend saw Michael Mayer and Stephen Karam‘s adaptation of The Seagull (Sony Classics, 5.11) yesterday, and was stirred and delighted. Mainly by the performances, she said — Saoirse Ronan, Annette Bening, Elizabeth Moss, Brian Dennehy, Corey Stoll. I replied that (a) it had been mostly well reviewed a few days ago after screening at the Tribeca Film Festival, and that (b) I was sorry I hadn’t received a screening invite.
HE to LA-based SPC publicists (who invited colleagues to a screening and a press day three or four weeks ago): “So I don’t get to review The Seagull in a timely fashion? It opens in 11 days. I worship the play and have seen it performed on stage twice in NYC, so missing out on the film version thus far is unfortunate. I’m in NYC as we speak. Any Manhattan screenings between now and Thursday, 5.4?”
I’m still puzzled by the fact that despite The Seagull having shot in mid ’15, it didn’t hit theatres all during ’16 or ’17. In a smoothly functioning realm it would have played at the ’16 fall festivals and opened sometime in the winter, spring or fall of ’17. As I wrote on 3.16.18, there has to be a reason for that.
Lone-wolf naysayer Jude Frywrote in his 4.22 Indiewire review that Mayer gussies The Seagull up with too many dolly shots, “like he’s choreographing a Green Day song.” He also said Mayer should have left Chekhov’s original play well enough alone. Nontheless the film currently has a 90% RT approval rating.
Also from 3.18: How could watching Saoirse Ronan, Annette Bening, Corey Stoll, Billy Howle and Elisabeth Moss performing Chekhov’s greatest play…how could that not be a keeper?”
