Day: September 8, 2021

Really Bad Casting

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Earlier today I rented Impeachment: American Crime Story. I watched a portion of episode #1, and I just couldn’t get over the wrongness of Beanie Feldstein as Monica Lewinsky. They just don’t look similar, not even a little bit. Monica was shapely; Beanie is chubby. I can’t invest in the supposed reality. I’d like to submit, but Feldstein keeps getting in the way.

Sarah Paulson is excellent as Linda Tripp. Make that delicious. Such a brilliant actress; such a carefully measured performance; you can read her every thought and suppressed impulse.

Missed It in Telluride

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Okay, I wanted to see or do other things when it was showing. I’ll catch it soon. The idea of Joaquin Pheonix playing a gentle, mild-mannered uncle seems odd. Most of us have come to accept that default Joaquin means being self-absorbed and caught up in the usual melancholy and smoking cigarettes, etc.

Funny

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A friend said the other day that my reactions to the bowling pin films seemed a bit harsh. I explained that since I’ve been more or less thrown out of the house, I’m simply not qualifying my reactions with political considerations.

There’s certainly no chance of sweet-talking my way into the good graces of these monsters. Last weekend I looked into the calculating eyes of Netflix’s Albert Tello…wow. But this is the business I chose to live and work in. A world defined by situational fair-weather alliances that can turn on a dime. We’re living through a grotesque and puritanical Robespierre chapter in our history, and as much as it pains me to admit it, I seem to be a variation on Georges Danton.

All good critics lead with the positive. I don’t mean that they hype stuff cynically, but they put their enthusiasm out there as much as honesty allows. All my life I’ve been looking for stuff to love, and when I’ve found a film that either hits the mark or comes very close I’m never shy about saying so, or about looking at a glass that’s half full and saying that in so many words. (Like my review of Becoming Led Zeppelin — an imperfect film that I liked all the same.) On the other hand, another part of HE’s mission is to take the wind out of the sails of stuff that’s been overpraised.

A friend agrees with me about Jane Campion‘s film, and strongly suspects, as I do, that Average Joe audiences are going to hate it. Because there’s just not enough going on, for one thing. Two-and-a-half hours of a grim and chilly Montana milieu, and all leading to a message about suppressing one’s own homosexual nature being bad. Not to mention punching a defenseless horse, and don’t get me started on castrating bulls with a sharp blade.

I was reminded that last weekend Pablo Larrain, Joe Wright and Alexander Payne were saying how much they admired Dog. Which means less than zero, of course, as fellow directors are always fellating each other.

The fact that four Gold Derby prognosticators (Anne Thompson, Chris Rosen, Matthew Jacobs, Thelma Adams) have The Power of the Dog as the top of their Best Picture rosters means even less — they’re basically saying “go, Jane…we’ve been admiring your work for years and our ardor hasn’t cooled.” Just wait and see what happens when The Power of the Dog starts streaming…just wait.

Three Bowling Pins

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Kenneth Branagh‘s Belfast, Jane Campion‘s The Power of the Dog and Pablo Larrain‘s Spencer screened in Telluride last weekend, and in my opinion they’re all shortfallers. Certainly as far as the Movie Godz are concerned.

Each is destined to slam into a big thick concrete wall. Joe Popcorn and your straight-shooting, shake-it-off Academy and guild types will see to that. Every year we have to re-learn the difference between rarified mountain-air reactions vs. sea-level reality. We’re about to be schooled yet again.

There was only one film that hit a grand slam last weekend, and that’s Reinaldo Marcus Green, Zach Baylin and Will Smith‘s King Richard — period. A Best Picture Oscar nom is 100% assured, and even at this early date the odds seem to favor a win. Not to mention a Best Actor trophy for Smith, and a likely Best Supporting Actress nom for Aunjanue Ellis, who memorably portrays the brutally honest wife of Smith’s Richard Williams and the mother of tennis legends Venus and Serena Williams.

Right now certain critics, award-season handicappers and industry voices are telling each other that Belfast, The Power of the Dog and Spencer are award-season hotties. They’ll continue to insist upon this narrative for the next two or three months, and eventually the smoke will clear.

Belfast (Focus Features, 11.12), which producer Sid Ganis believes to be one of the best films he’s ever seen in his life, is a mawkish family drama that channels The Wonder Years, and delivers a vague impression of the “troubles” that plagued northern Ireland in the ’60s and ’70s. Plus a monochrome palette, perhaps the most insufferably cute and endearing performance by a child actor (Jude Hill) in film history, a dab or two of puppy love, Cieran Hinds‘ genuinely charming performance as a kindly grandpa, and loads and loads of Van Morrison. Then again the curious affection some have for this film (watch it win the TIFF audience award) may keep the torches burning.

The Power of the Dog is a chilly and perverse cattle-ranch drama that insists over and over that it’s a very bad thing for toxic males to suppress their homosexuality. (HE agrees.) Campion is a top-tier filmmaker but Dog‘s milieu is grim and stifling and melancholy, like the dark side of the moon. Yes, Benedict Cumberbatch is excellent as the enraged and closeted Phil, but he’s basically doing Daniel Day Lewis‘s “Bill the Butcher” in Gangs of New York. Or, if you will, “Daniel Plainview” in There Will Be Blood.

Spencer is an oddly surreal dreamscape flick that uses Lady Diana‘s anguished and loveless marriage to Prince Charles and a 1991 Christmas celebration at Queen Elizabeth’s Sandringham estate as the basis of what boils down to an elite psychological meltdown flick…”poor free-spirited, pheasant-sympathizing, pearl necklace-loathing Diana vs. the cold, bloodless gargoyle royals,” etc. Yes, Stewart will most likely be Oscar-nominated for Best Actress — her performance is definitely commendable.

Same Teaser I Saw A Month Ago

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In early August a bootleg copy of a Netflix teaser for Adam McKay‘s Don’t Look Up appeared on YouTube. Today a similar teaser appeared legitimately. Same Leonardo DiCaprio chin-beard and anxiety attack, same sense of hurtling meteoric panic-anxiety, same Jonah Hill smiling conference line about “whoa, dude…you are stressing me out“, etc.