“If Chappelle was white, there would be no dilemma…he’d be cancelled full stop, and The Closer would be taken off the air”…well?

Jump to https://hollywood-elsewhere.com/2021/10/sage-words/2/

Smiling faces and two-faced enemies. Or, in Marlon Brando terminology, one-eyed jacks. Some actual friends or “friendos,” of course (and thank God for those few) but mostly fair-weather types, transactional allies, etc. Like any other big-city racket. Grow up.

Ridley Scott‘s The Last Duel (20th Century, 10.15) is a good, sturdy feminist film, and there’s one person who carries it — not Matt “mullet” Damon, not Adam “horseface” Driver and not Ben “Blondie” Affleck. The carrier is Jodie Comer, and I’m telling you that she’s Grace Kelly in her prime…skill, class, poise, passion, refinement.

The guys are fine but Comer (26 or 27 when the film was shot) is the keeper. Best Actress or Best Supporting Actress…whatever works. She’s got it within, and she looks great besides.

Repeating: We all understand that Duel is a medieval #MeToo yarn about conflicting recollections of a brutal rape.

Two depictions are shown, one from the perspective of the victim, Comer’s Marguerite de Carrouges, and a second from the perspective of the rogue perpetrator, Driver’s Jacques Le Gris. A third account from Marguerite’s husband, Damon’s Jean de Carrouges, is passed along but not visualized as he wasn’t there.

But there’s another sexual assualt scene that really throttles you, and it’s between a mare and a stallion. A white mare “in season” is in a corral, bnd suddenly a black stallion races into the paddock and mounts her like that, and Scott offers a fast glimpse of his 20-inch black baseball bat…God! Now that‘s a savage rape scene, I told myself. The neighing steeds have it all over the heavy breathing humans in this respect.

I was disturbed by Damon’s mullet hair all through the film — in every Damon scene it was a problem. Why did Scott insist on his lead actor wearing a rural Pennsylvania, Trump-supporting mullet in this thing?

And I didn’t care for the muted blue-gray color scheme — it bothered me start to finish.

It’s 2:45 pm and I have to leave for two or three hours. I’ll pick up later on…

There’s a Latino apartment renovation crew working in the building next door, three or four guys, and they’re being (what else?) obnoxious — shouting to the extent that their voices sound like sonic booms, playing loud sombrero ballads and singing along and occasionally going “whooo-whooo!” And it’s awful to listen to. It’s hell.

I asked myself if I should walk over to the worksite and ask these guys to consider the fact that this is West Hollywood and not East L.A. and would they mind giving the neighborhood a break with their awful Tijuana border crossing music, etc. But that wouldn’t accomplish much.

I’ve been all around the block with coarse Latinos so don’t tell me. My battles with the Hispanic Party Elephant in North Bergen. The “Loud Latinos” piece that I posted from Brooklyn in June 2010, and got in trouble over.

Getting older is not a felony but this OK! cover shot of Tom Cruise threw me. An occasional bad photo is par for the course, but I froze in my tracks when I saw this last night in a WeHo Pavillions checkout line. What am I seeing? Facial filler? Cruise has sturdy features — he’s a handsome dude and the “worn and weathered” thing (the Jerry Maguire look + 25) is the way to go. And he should grow his hair out a bit. “Barry Nerd” short hair can work against you, depending on the particulars.