I love how one of the anti-Chappelle supporters grabbed a pro-Chappelle placard being held aloft by a bespectacled, cap-wearing pudgy guy, and ripped the cardboard sign off. And then one of the anti-Chappelles shouted that the pudgy guy had a “weapon” — i.e., the stick that remained in his hands once the sign had been trashed.

“You want me to drop the weapon?” the pudgy guy asked, mocking the mania. “Yes,” came the reply, “and then leave.”

I also love how a short anti-Chappelle demonstrator with a tennis-ball haircut attempted to push against the pudgy guy by holding his/her arms up, getting right into his 18 inches of private space. There was also a small woman with a shrieky, agitated voice shaking some kind of noisemaker at the pudgy guy. Talk about impolite, rude and disrespectful.

The pudgy guy nonetheless held onto a joshing, light-hearted attitude.

🚨#BREAKING: Dozens of Netflix employees and their supporters staged a walkout outside Netflix Headquarters

📌#Hollywood l #California

To protest the transphobic comments made by Dave Chappelle in his latest comedy special released earlier this month by the streaming giant pic.twitter.com/zkNnSDaE95

— R A W S A L E R T S (@rawsalerts) October 20, 2021

Official Focus Features description: “Written and directed by Academy Award® nominee Kenneth Branagh, Belfast (11.12.21) is a poignant story of love, laughter and loss in one boy’s childhood, amid the music and social tumult of the late 1960s.”

Herewith an acknowledgement of the 11.13 AFI Fest screening of David Fincher and David Prior‘s Voir.

One of the “visual essays about the love of cinema” is titled “Summer of the Shark” — a Jaws recollection by none other than HE’s own Sasha Stone. The essay is nicely narrated by the Awards Daily owner, and it tells about her cinematic awakening, if you will, when she first saw Steven Spielberg’s 1975 classic.

The photo is of a movie-set recreation of teenaged Sasha watching Jaws in her 1970s living room.

The other essays are “Ethics of Revenge” by Taylor Ramos and Tony Zhou, and “But I Don’t Like Him” by Drew McWeeny.

The entire thing will be shown on Netflix a few weeks hence. The trailer will also eventually pop through.

Based Elena Ferrante‘s same-titled novel, The Lost Daughter (Netflix, 12.17) is the directorial debut of Maggie Gyllenhaal.

Olivia Colman is Leda, a middle-aged professor vacationing in Greece for a week or two. Her obsession with Nina (Dakota Johnson) and her daughter causes Leda to reminisce about her own motherhood trials as a conflicted 20something.

Katie Smith-SWong’s Flickfeast review: “Gyllenhaal incorporates an [intensely] artistic approach that heightens the film’s psychological tone. Beautiful and visually affecting, this creates an unsettling but unnecessary sense of paranoia that [modifies] the sentimentality behind Leda’s emotional journey.

“Plus the heartbreaking dialogue in Gyllenhaal’s adapted screenplay isn’t helped by the close-up shots that border on pretentious and the drawn-out narrative that prolongs the suffering of its key characters.

“Overall The Lost Daughter is an ambitious directorial debut. Colman shines as Leda but its overlong runtime and uneven supporting performances cause its dramatic effect to falter for the sake of style.”

I could and should have seen The Lost Daughter during Telluride, but I couldn’t fit it in.

If it was my call and I had absolute power (and I’m not exaggerating for exaggeration’s sake), I would put Donald Trump‘s fat, half-naked ass into a Roman Colisseum-like arena and make him face three ferocious tigers, just like Russell Crowe in Gladiator and Victor Mature in Demetrius and the Gladiators. Yes, I would allow Trump to defend himself with a short sword, but you know he’d die anyway.

It goes without saying that Steve Bannon should suffer the same fate.

I’m not kidding — these guys are sociopaths, animals…hellbent on anti-Democratic revolt and sparking anti-Democratic insanity among the rural bumblefucks. They’re truly insane, and the crimes they’re guilty of deserve the ultimate penalty. A firing squad would afford them too much dignity. They need to face what Christians faced under the rule of ancient Romans.

Alternate scenario: Trump is murdered — stabbed to death — by the Praetorian guard, and in a mimicking of John Hurt‘s death scene in I, Claudius, he weeps and wails as the knives plunge in and out.