Steve Bannon is a “bad guy”, obviously, but at least he’s a smart one, and every now and then he’ll say something that’s more true than not. Bannon #1: “If Bernie Sanders had an ounce of Michael Avenatti‘s fearlessness, he’d have been the Democratic nominee and we would have had a much tougher time [in the 2016 election].” Bannon #2: “If the Republicans lose the House, [Trump’s] gonna get impeached.”

A vague recollection (and correct me if I’m wrong) is that during the Jefferson Airplane heyday of the mid to late ’60s, Grace Slick was the headliner — magnetic, contrarian sexy, tough-talking, decent pipes. But Marty Balin‘s voice was the band’s greatest instrument. Rivers of feeling, conviction, white-guy soul…that half-wailing, half-pouring-his-heart-out thing. “My Best Friend” and “Today” were prime examples. They fit Balin’s voice like a glove and vice versa. Why is it, then, that when I heard about Balin’s death my first two recollections weren’t about his singing? One, the fact that Balin was knocked out cold by one or two of the Hell’s Angels “security” guys during the disastrous Altamont concert of August ’69. And two, the animosity between between Balin and Slick (even though they re-teamed for Jefferson Starship from the early to late ’70s) was apparently fairly toxic from time to time, hence that infamous Balin quote. I don’t know what killed the poor guy, but rest in peace and safe travels.

Update: The Senate Judiciary Committee approved Judge Brett Kavanaugh but the Democratic members + Arizona Senator Jeff Flake are suggesting a delay of a Senate floor vote on Kavanaugh, pending a one-week maximum FBI investigation into numerous allegations.

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— C H I L I (@heyitschili) September 28, 2018

Republican Arizona Senator Jeff Flake allegedly knows better, and will most likely burn in the fires of his own, personal, bathroom-mirror hell for his announced vote to confirm Brett Kavanaugh.

From the Guardian: “Shortly after Jeff Flake released a statement saying he intended to vote to confirm Brett Kavanaugh’s nomination to the Supreme Court, two women confronted the Arizona Republican senator in an elevator, identifying themselves as sexual assault survivors. One of them told her story and repeatedly asks Flake if he thought Kavanaugh was telling the truth in denying the allegation that he sexually assaulted Dr. Christine Blasey Ford.”

I’ve mentioned from time to time how Tony Gilroy‘s Michael Clayton (’07) has, for me, gotten better and better over the years. And yet somehow I didn’t have the brain cells or cinematic perspective or innate insight to recognize Clayton‘s specialness when it opened 11 years ago. I didn’t realize it was (and is) one of the greatest, most on-target films about big-time lawyering and corporate corruption ever made. In this regard I would call Gilroy’s film even-steven with Michael Mann‘s The Insider.

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In the wake of Christine Blasey Ford’s emotionally devastating testimony about the trauma she suffered at age 15, I began to think about my own rocky emotional life and traumatic episodes during my teen years.

I’m in no way comparing what I went through (even cumulatively) to what Ms. Ford allegedly suffered through at the hands of the teenaged Brett Kavanaugh and Mark Judge.

I’m just saying that almost all teenagers go through a series of unpleasant and in some cases traumatic trials and gauntlets, and that being a teenager can feel like a cross between a Eugene O’Neil or Edward Albee melodrama and a kind of low-simmering horror film. I could probably come up with a better, more interesting analogy, but you get the idea.

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From just-posted Indiewire piece, “A Star Is Born Is a Crowdpleaser, But Does That Make It an Oscar Frontrunner?“:

“As the fall season continues to come into focus, A Star is Born remains the one movie with massive commercial potential coming out at the height of Oscar season. But the Bradley Cooper-directed update to this famous rags-to-riches saga has already become an internet meme weeks before its release. As the movie continues to gain traction, there are still many questions about its long-term appeal: Will Cooper’s movie dominate a dense season or is it dwarfed by some of the more audacious contenders?”

HE translation: In the face of Kris Tapley‘s fascinating, almost humorous refusal to walk back his early proclamation about Cooper’s undoubtedly well made crowd-pleaser, Indiewire (i.e., Eric Kohn) feels there’s enough credibility to the burgeoning notion that A Star Is Born has been over-hyped in terms of its Best Picture or Best Director chances…there’s certainly enough cred to discuss and kick it around.

Indiewire‘s Anne Thompson says in the below discussion that while A Star Is Born is good for this or that nomination, whether or not it wins “is a whole different discussion.” Kohn claims that in the popular movie realm, Black Panther has a stronger team of horses than A Star Is Born. This may be true.

The first photo of Tom Hanks-as-Fred Rogers surfaced yesterday.  It’s from the set of Marielle Heller‘s You Are My Friend, a Rogers biopic (inspired by the Morgan Neville doc) that will open on 10.18.19.

Fred Rogers, man. What a nice guy. I mean, what a really nice guy…right? Gentle manner, red sweater, blue sneakers, an Eisenhower Republican…what’s not to like? I know I’m sounding a little facetious here, but he was a “nice guy”, and he always will be.

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Supreme Court nominee Brett Kavanaugh tried to defiantly lie and bluster his way through his Senate Judiciary Committee rebuttal testimony yesterday. Any reasonably sane, semi-mature, level-headed person who believes Kavanaugh’s bullshit is either (a) flat-out lying or (b) afflicted with serious deficiencies as a reader of human behavior.

“You can’t kill my life and career over my rapey, blind-drunk high-school and Yale shenanigans…that shit doesn’t count, I was 17 or 18, Mark Judge and I were fucking around…whatever. Oh, and fuck you eternally, Democratic conspirators!”

I’ve run into guys like Kavanaugh from time to time, and they’re mostly about their lack of empathy (“The world is for the few,” etc.) and their like-minded buddy-bruhs and shared hostilities and belief in clubby entitlements. And I hate, hate, hate his crude, vaguely moaning, thick-tongued way of speaking — I loathe and despise the sound of his disgusting seal-bark voice. Ope!…ope!…ope!…ope! And those butt-ugly pig eyes. In a suit. The oinky eyes of a pugnacious Trenton, New Jersey bartender who’s been caught skimming.

Kavanaugh’s sickening testimony followed the obviously truthful, straight-from-the-heart, straight-from-the-pain testimony of Palo Alto psychology professor Christine Blasey Ford. Her words and memories are and were obviously, 100%, drop-to-your-knees lucid and sincere, and shouldn’t be degraded by side-by-side comparisons to Kavanaugh’s Irish-street-punk taunts and rage-bombs.

I had to train into the city and therefore missed Kavanaugh’s testimony. So he started things off with a bang, huh? I’ll see the replay this evening but in the meantime, any impressions? Question: What’s that twitchy thing Kavanaugh does with his nose, simultaneously sniffing and blinking his eyes?

Sen. Lindsey Graham’s behavior today was, I felt, fairly disgusting,

It was announced today that Warner Bros. will release Clint Eastwood‘s The Mule, based on a true story about an old guy who volunteers his services as a drug mule, on 12.14.18. Eastwood has directed and produced the film, and plays the lead role to boot.

It wasn’t long ago when the announcement of a Eastwood film opening in December would stir notions of possible Oscar contention. That’s due to the impactful December releases of Million Dollar Baby (12.15.04) and Gran Torino (12.12.08), and to a lesser extent American Sniper (12.25.14).

But the critical responses to Eastwood’s recent Sully (’16) and The 15:17 to Paris (’18) have, due respect, diminished the buzz along these lines. Variety‘s Brent Lang has flatly stated that The Mule “is seen as more of a commercial effort” and is “not expected to be a major Oscar contender.”

The Mule costars Bradley Cooper, Michael Pena, Laurence Fishburne and Dianne Wiest.