Month: October 2020

“Hunter Biden is a fallen man at this point. I knew Hunter Biden fairly well. We lived near each other in Washington for quite some time. And his wife, who’s an absolutely outstanding person…a good person. I never thought Hunter Biden was a bad person. I thought he had demons, but [during] the time I knew him he kept them mostly under control. At some point he lost control of those demons, and the world knows that now. He’s now humiliated and alone. It’s probably too strong to say that I feel sorry for Hunter Biden, but the point is [this]: Pounding on a man…jumping on, piling on when he’s already down is something we don’t want to be involved in.” — Tucker Carlson last night.

Tucker Carlson, who has spent the past two weeks obsessing on the Hunter Biden emails, now says it’s time to leave Hunter alone:

“The point is pounding on a man, jumping on, and piling on when he’s already down is not something we want to be involved in.” pic.twitter.com/25bwCBiSiN

— Justin Baragona (@justinbaragona) October 30, 2020

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I’d like to share a few words about one of my favorite Soviet films, Vladimir Bortko‘s Heart of a Dog (’88). I will also try to explain you what Russian Intelligentsia means.

The film is based on Mikhail Bulgakov‘s same-titled novella, which was written in 1925. But the manuscript was confiscated during a search in the apartment. Bulgakov became a persona non grata among the Bolsheviks for his critical views of the perversions of power and his commitment to Tsarist Russia. “Heart of a Dog” was published in English in 1968, and wasn’t published in the Soviet Union until 1987.

I read the book in 1988 and watched the film a year later. It was one of the rare occasions when a book and a film using the same material seemed equally accomplished.

“Heart of a Dog” is a philosophical and satirical work in which the author reflects on bolshevism, the proletariat, the bourgeoisie and human nature.

I re-watched Bortko’s film yesterday, and was reminded that one can repeatedly watch deep and powerful films and discover something new with each viewing.

The setting is 1924 Moscow. A frosty winter. A homeless dog, Sharik, wanders around in search of food. Men beat him with sticks, douse him with boiling water, chased him from everywhere. But one day Sharik meets Professor Preobrazhensky, who takes him to his place.

Preobrazhensky is a world-class scientist. Together with his assistant Bormenthal, he transplants hypophysis and seminal glands from a criminal guy (who was killed in an accident) into Sharik’s body. The dog gradually turns into a human. The sensational news instantly spreads across Moscow and brings the professor another portion of recognition.

However, the joy turns out to be short-lived, and very soon Professor Preobrazhensky comes to regret his scientific experiment. For after all, the ignorant Sharikov turns their life into a living hell.

Using Sharikov’s example, we observe what happens to a Russian person when he suddenly becomes a Soviet person. He throws his strength and devotion to following imposed ideas. But are they close to him?

Click here for remainder of column at tatiana-pravda.

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I’ve come up with three potential names for that paywalled personal advice column that I mentioned the other day. Personal advice in the way of love, travel, God, drugs. alcohol and misbegotten relationships. The first concept was a dull cliche — HE’s True Confessions. The second was a Howard Beale riff — HE’s I’ve Just Run Out of Bullshit. The third was inspired by Phil Collins — HE’s I Don’t Care Any More.

HE to Journo Pally: You know what’s going on out there. You know how p.c. knee-jerk spitballing is baked into the default mindset of at least some Gold Derby handicappers. That or they’ve been terrorized into thinking that way. I talk about possibly gathering together an alternative attitude fraternity that might not fall into line with quite the same willingness and p.c. obsequiousness, and you put me down for that?

Journo Pally to HE: If you were a driver heading into the wrong lane of the Malibu Canyon tunnel, I’d stop you. If you were a neighbor whose house was on fire, I’d hand you the water hose. If you reported to me at [a publication], I’d steer you toward writing about film and television…writing that called upon your vast reservoir of knowledge, your passion, intellect, savvy — and away from your darker impulses.

There’s a way to have fun, serve your readers and steer a sober, responsible business course. There are ways for you to embrace the changes of our times, to highlight the incredible talents in every creative category of filmmaking, celebrate filmmakers from around the world and in every corner of our country. That’s a much better use of your time and a much better business strategy than [your] Straight Shooters idea.

You wrote a column a while back about reflecting on your life, your feelings, about turning over a new leaf. Do that. Lay down your weary tune. Turn on your love light. Get with the program.

HE to Journo Pally: Wow, thanks. I agree with the positive thrust of the message, but — don’t take this the wrong way — you also sound a bit like Dr. Kauffman trying to persuade Kevin McCarthy‘s “Miles” to relax and let the seed pods take over.

Dr. Kauffman: Less than a month ago, West Hollywood was like any other town. People with nothing but problems. Then out of the progressive community came a solution. Seeds drifting through space for years took root in a farmer’s field. From the seeds came pods which had the power to reproduce themselves in the exact likeness of any form of life.
Miles: So that’s how it began…out of the sky.
Dr. Kauffman: Your new bodies are growing in there. They’re taking you over cell for cell, atom for atom. There is no pain. Suddenly, while you’re asleep, they’ll absorb your minds, your memories and you’ll be reborn into a simpler, purer world.
Miles: Where everyone’s a wokester?
Dr. Kauffman: Exactly. If you give in, tomorrow you’ll be one of us, and you can become the new Perri Nemiroff. You’ll be happier. You’ll smile all the time.
Miles: I love films by Roman Polanski and Woody Allen. Will I feel the same tomorrow?
Dr. Kauffman: [shakes his head] There will be no more need for Allen or Polanski or any other artist who hasn’t accepted the new reality.
Miles: No more watching J’Accuse or Rosemary’s Baby or The Pianist? No more Manhattan or Crimes and Misdemeanors?
Dr. Kauffman: You say it as if it were terrible. Believe me, it isn’t. We’ve all seen their films. They never last. They never do. Sardonic wit. Love and desire. Intrigue. Betrayal and facing evil. Without their films, life will be so much simpler, believe me.
Miles: You’re basically saying I need to stop fighting the idea that if I wasn’t a huge fan of Little Women, I’m a sexist who doesn’t get it.
Dr. Kauffman: Miles, if you didn’t like Little Women you are a sexist who doesn’t get it. Don’t you understand that?
Miles: I don’t want any part of it.
Dr. Kauffman: You’re forgetting something, Miles.
Miles: What’s that?
Dr. Kauffman: You have no choice.

Yeshua of Nazareth: “Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?” (aka “My God, why hast thou forsaken me?”)
God to Yeshua: “Don’t take it personally, bruh. I’m not forsaking you. I’m just dealing impartial cosmic cards. Table stakes. It happens. Roll with the punches.”

Chance Browne, a renowned Fairfield County cartoonist and musician as well as an HE friend for decades, is the son of the late Dik Browne, who created two hugely popular comic strips, Hi and Lois and Hagar the Horrible. Chance recently noted with some pride that a legendary Hagar illustration sits on Joe Biden’s desk

Chance: “In Joe Biden’s 2017 memoir (‘Promise Me, Dad‘) he writes that his father gave him the ‘Why Me? Why Not?’ Hagar the Horrible comic strip as an inspiration to get him through some tough times. It’s been on his desk for 25 years now.

“The day after Joe selected Kamala Harris to be his running mate, a photo appeared online of Biden FaceTiming with Harris. Right behind his laptop the ‘why not?’ Hagar strip can be seen in a gold frame.

“The day was August 11, which was my Dad’s birthday. I know that he and my mom would have been so proud to have our lovable Viking be inspirational to the man who will work to save our country from [toxic Trumpism].”

HE response: “Love the Biden endorsement factor, although I’m still not fully understanding the meaning of ‘why me? Why not?’ Or maybe I do understand it and it’s bringing me down.

“The thought seems to be ‘why am I so unlucky or why does everything happen to me or why am I going through such a hard time?’ And the cosmic response is ‘why not? Some people are unlucky or destined to endure a difficult path. We all know life is unfair and that God randomly decides who will suffer and who won’t so don’t fight it…just roll with the fact that your life is going to involve a fair amount of suffering, not because you’re a bad person but because you drew an unlucky lottery number.’

“What I don’t understand is, how was this message comforting to Joe Biden? How did an awareness of the cold and brusque impartiality of fate get him through some of his rough patches?”

Earlier today Rory h asked “what’s the absolute worst film to get a Best Picture nomination since the category was expanded? Extra points for picking one that isn’t Bohemian Rhapsody.”

Forget Rory’s perimeters — what were the least and most deserving Best Picture nominees in 2009, 2010, 2011 and 2012?

Least Deserving 2009 Best Picture Nominees: Precious, Based On The Novel ‘Push’ by Sapphire and Inglourious Basterds.
Most Deserving 2009 Best Picture Nominees: The Hurt Locker, A Serious Man, Avatar, An Education, Up In The Air.

Least Deserving 2010 Best Picture Nominees: Toy Story 3, The King’s Speech, Inception, 127 Hours.
Most Deserving 2010 Best Picture Nominees: The Social Network, Black Swan, The Kids Are All Right.

Least Deserving 2011 Best Picture Nominees: The Artist, War Horse, Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close, Hugo, The Help.
Most Deserving 2011 Best Picture Nominees: Moneyball, The Descendants, Midnight in Paris.

Least Deserving 2012 Best Picture Nominees: Life of Pi, Django Unchained, Les Miserables, Lincoln.
Most Deserving 2012 Best Picture Nominees: Zero Dark Thirty, Silver Linings Playbook, Amour, Argo, Beasts of the Southern Wild.

There’s a movement afoot to launch a contra-Gold Derby Oscar Prediction chart, called Straight Shooters. The idea is to spitball the Oscars without the wokester filter — to resist the political stuff (or at least not to bow down in a kneejerk fashion), and to adopt a grounded and sensible ars gratia artis perspective.

Which would mean what exactly? Well, Straight Shooter members wouldn’t necessarily celebrate a film solely because it embraces POC, LGBTQ or woke female perspectives, although they might. Nor would they necessarily discount a film by an older white director or a performance by an older white actor or a film with a white-centric focus in general (i.e., Mank).

In a perfect incarnation, Straight Shooters would be about keeping wokester politics out of it, and letting the pure love of great films and exceptional film technique and world-class acting shine through.

People who may deserve to be Oscar-nominated wouldn’t be nominated strictly because of their ethnicity or gender or sexual identity. Or not be nominated for same. They would hopefully be championed or promoted because they’ve done excellent work. No one should be necessarily celebrated because of an absence of alignment with progressive causes, but at the same time a certain political ingredient or metaphor needn’t be a problem or an obstruction.

It could well turn out that most of the Straight Shooters might project Nomadland to win the Best Picture Oscar and Chloe Zhao to win Best Director. (As I currently am.) But they wouldn’t be required to support same because of Nomadland‘s subject or Zhao’s gender and ethnicity.

Straight Shooters would represent a symbolic unlocking of the handcuffs, and throwing off the politically correct ball and chain. People would be free to support who they want to support regardless of whatever p.c. points are involved. These estimations may in some instances (and perhaps more than a few) align with the predictable Oscar preferences of certain parties. Or not.

The point would be to judge films and performances as if it was 1988 or 1997 or 2005 or 2009 or 2014…to assess the best and the brightness without the demands or requirements of political correctness mucking everything up.

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“The under-40 crowd has invested Race, Gender and Sexuality with a kind of cosmic significance. It doesn’t mean a lot to them — it means everything to them. Indeed, much of their conversation and writing seems to always come back to it.” — from “New Academy Kidz Aren’t Concerned With Whole Equation”, posted on 2.26.18.

HE: “This satirical ad makes some fairly astute points…’some’. But some of what she’s saying is really Trump Ugly. Mailboxes have been removed, etc. It’s basically saying that there’s a certain rhyme and rationale (and reasons that are not entirely crazy) for supporting an obviously ignorant and delusional liar and sociopathic bullshitter who winks at white racism, appoints corporate-level criminals and buccaneers and wealthy-donor idiots like Betsy DeVoss to cabinet positions, and who worsened the Covid crisis tenfold.

“It’s saying that because wokesters are Orwellian ogres and blacklisters (which they most certainly are), Trump isn’t so bad. And that’s fucking CRAZY.”

Journo pally who sent me the link: “In your world, yes. Not in mine. I am truly frightened by what is about to happen at the hands of the wokester left and you should be too. You are willfully ignoring the threat.”

Before I watched this Biden campaign ad I was voting for Trump. I’ll be changing my vote now. pic.twitter.com/Fwmmih5zGa

— @amuse (@amuse) October 28, 2020