Indiewire‘s David Ehrlich is an excellent editor as far as year-end recaps are concerned, but my God, what a mostly horrible year 2021 was, excepting the top 30 that I mentioned in this 12.19.21 post. Okay, not the films as much as that hideous Sparks song from Annette, “So May We Start?”…Jesus. Not to mention The Green Knight and the dour melancholy pills represented by Spencer and The Power of the Dog. Was 2021 as bad as 2020? Perhaps not, but it sure came close.

“Jesus…losing power…I gotta land this thing now, but where?…God, I’m Sully Sullenberger!…think fast!…oh, wait, maybe I can land on those railroad tracks up ahead…yeah, that works…okay, don’t panic…set her down…just aim for those tracks….yeah, that’s it.”

From Richard Rushfield‘s latest Ankler column, “The Sound of No Globes Clapping“: “While founded as a promotional vehicle for Hollywood films, there’s a very good case to be made that the awards firmament these days (Oscars, Globes, CCA, BAFTAs, guilds, critics groups) may actually chase more viewers away than it brings in, if you look at this from the audiences’ perspective (remember them?).”

In other words, the cinematic intrigues of Joe and Jane Popcorn and the awards-giving fraternity used to overlap on occasion and would be “good for business,” as the phrase goes.

As recently as five or six years ago, Best Picture competitiveness for films like La La Land ($447 million worldwide), Manchester By The Sea ($79 million worldwide) and Moonlight ($65 million worldwide) would occasionally translate into good box-office energy. The term “quality-level awards contender” used to mean “hmmm, maybe it’s worth catching at the AMC plex.”

But no longer. In fact, once the word gets out that Guy Lodge, Amy Nicholson, Eric Kohn, David Fear, Ella Taylor, Walter Chaw, David Ehrlich and Justin Chang are strongly recommending this or that film, your basic popcorn hoi polloi response is “okay, definitely not theatrical….not if those guys are high on it…strictly an HBO Max or Netflix or Amazon-er…maybe.”

Rushfield: “On that entire campaign trail there was exactly one stop” — i.e., the Golden Globes — “that wasn’t a burden to slog through. Yes, it was thrown by people whom ‘The Community’ didn’t take totally seriously. But maybe it wasn’t such a horrible thing for stars-participants-audience to refuse to treat an awards show with the same solemnity as, say, the announcement of a new cancer treatment.

“And now, congratulations…at a moment when Hollywood is, shall we say, realigning its relationship with the viewing public, they got rid of the one event that stood a chance still of winning over a few fans, portraying the Hollywood weltanschauung in a slightly less weltschmertzy light. With essentially sizzle reels for TV shows and films, and stars who weren’t birthed on TikTok.”

Posted by Newsweek‘s Jon Jackson at 1:08 pm Pacific: “Pope Francis warned on Monday about the ‘one-track thinking’ caused by “cancel culture” as well as the spread of misinformation related to COVID-19 and vaccines.

“In comments made during an address to diplomats, the pope cautioned against ‘a form of ideological colonization, one that leaves no room for freedom of expression and is now taking the form of the cancel culture invading many circles and public institutions.”

“Reuters reported that the pontiff said the words ‘cancel culture’ in English while otherwise speaking in Italian during the long speech. The news agency speculated that he chose to do so because the topic is a point of controversy in English-speaking countries like the U.S.”

Pope Francis went on to chastise Hollywood publicists and talent managers for deciding en masse last year to cancel the “flawed but human” Hollywood Foreign Press Association and the Golden Globe awards.

“We’ve all recognized for many decades that the Hollywood Foreign Press Association is just another an organization of prostitutes…a group looking to promote Hollywood product, and in so doing enjoy the industry perks and enrich itself and take a ride on the gravy train,” the pontiff said. “Which is exactly the same goal and attitude of Joey Berlin and the Critics Choice Association. There are no priests or nuns in this racket, and they all have their hand out.

“We all understand, of course, that the HFPA was slow to adapt to the requirements of urban progressive culture by failing to add journalists of color to their ranks. But does that make them evil? Does this mean they need to die?”

Okay, the previous three paragraphs are entirely fictitious. Pope Francis said nothing earlier today about the Hollywood Foreign Press and the Golden Globes. But he might well have come to this conclusion privately. If he cared one way or the other. Maybe.

Now that he’s joined the anti-wokester brigade, Pope Francis surely recognizes that woke cancer has spread in a thousand different directions over the last four or five years, and that the people who decided to kill the Golden Globes in order to demonstrate the intensity of their commitment to anti-racism…Pope Francis surely understands that they’ve basically decided to commit a form of award-season hari kiri, and for no reason other than virtue-signalling.

Only fools would contend that Joey Berlin and the CCA are more moral or less race-conscious or more socially responsible than the HFPA. They’re all industry whores, all shilling at the trough, and the Hollywood machine has enjoyed the enthusiasms of these two groups for many years (decades in the case of the HFPA) so cut the shit, sonny.

Two days ago I wrote about the loss and recovery of my favorite comb, which I named “default blackie.” Nicely average-sized and bendable or, if you will, agreeably rubbery. And yet if I was being 100% honest I would’ve admitted that blackie isn’t quite small enough — my ideal size is around 75% or 80% of that dimension.

This morning I was cleaning our outdoor sunporch area, which involved removing all the plants and sweeping up the residue. Lo and behold I discovered a muddy, gunky, slime-covered junior-sized blackie, which had probably been out there for years. Tatiana saw my expression and cried out, “Oh, no, don’t do theese!”

A half-hour later I was scrubbing the rescue comb with a bristle brush, liquid soap and scalding hot water, over and over. Now it’s as good as new. I know this sounds like a minor incident within the great scheme, but it felt like an excellent thing.