Same Time Next Year

Thanks again to Telluride’s Julie Huntsinger for her classy, cultured programming picks (corralled under tough circumstances), gracious hospitality and never-say-die ebullience.

The last four days felt warm, familial and kinda glorious. For the most part I managed to put aside my enraged feelings about wokester critics (many of whom won’t even admit to their prejudicial “big changes!” agenda) and just submitted to the highaltitude satori of it all. Happy to be here…to be alive.

In terms of genuine movie excitement did Telluride ‘22 seem relatively thin? Aside from HE’s idea of the Big Five — Empire of Light, Close, Tar (despite certain reservations), Bardo (ditto) and Armageddon Time — some felt that way.

I would’ve loved to have seen The Whale, She Said, Banshees of Inisherin, Blonde, The Greatest Beer Run Ever, White Noise, The Fabelmans and even Don’t Worry Darling. But that’s the rough-and-tumble of programming early fall festivals.

Thanks For The Recall

Sebastián Leilo’s The Wonder is a somber, better-than-decent, glacially-paced period drama.

Set in rural Ireland of 1862, it’s about a struggle between the oppression of strict Irish Catholic dogma vs. a woman’s common humanity. I respected the effort, and certainly admired Florence Pugh’s performance as a willful, Florence Nightingale-trained nurse. Perfect period sets. All the supporting perfs pass muster.

For me the standout visual element is the raw Irish countryside, and particularly those 16 or 17 shots of Pugh trudging across said terrain. After the sixth or seventh shot I was reminded of that magnificent 2009 Johnnie Walker commercial with Robert Carlyle (i.e., “The Walk”)…5 & 1/2 minutes, a single tracking shot upon a gravel path in rural Scotland, brilliant choreography, a legend in the annals of advertising.

Sinatra Revival

The most interesting aspect of Owen Gleiberman’s Venice Film Festival review of Don’t Worry Darling is his enthusiasm for Harry Styles:

“What’s convincing is how easily Styles sheds his pop-star flamboyance, even as he retains his British accent and takes over one party scene by dancing as if he were in a ’40s musical.

“There’s actually something quite old-fashioned about Styles. With his popping eyes, floppy shock of hair, and saturnine suaveness, he recalls the young Frank Sinatra as an actor. It’s too early to tell where he’s going in movies, but if he wants to he could have a real run in them.”

The Styles film to really watch, in other words, is My Policeman:

Capsule description of Wilde’s film: “A kind of candy-colored Stepford Wives in the Twilight Zone meets The Handmaid’s Tale.”

HE on 7.22.22:

Three Screenings and Out

The 2022 Telluride Film festival ends tonight, and I have three films to see today over a period of roughly eleven hours.

At 1 pm I’ll begin a re-watch of Todd FieldsTar (147 minutes) at the Palm, in hopes of getting past some of the issues I’ve been struggling with.

Immediately following is a 4pm Galaxy screening of Sebastian Lelio’s The Wonder (103 minutes), which stars Florence Pugh.

I’ll have a two-and-a-half-hour break before the final screening, Laure de Clermont-Tonnerre‘s Lady Chatterly’s Lover (126 minutes), which stars the non-binary Emma Corrin. It begins at 8 pm at the Sheridan Opera House.

I’m planning to take dozens of photos and post as many as I see fit.

My Telluride Express shuttle leaves tomorrow morning at 7 am. The Montrose-to-Dallas flight leaves at 10:15 am, and the Dallas-to-JFK leaves at 2:37 pm, arriving at 7:15 pm.

Telluride Hive Mind

The elite Telluride critic community feels it has no choice but to worship Sarah Polley‘s Women Talking. Politically speaking there’s no upside to not praising it. Naysayers will have to suffer some degree of rejection, and it’s just safer to play along.

I said the other day that Polley’s film is nicely handled as far as it goes, but sitting through it feels confining and interminable. For me, it was almost totally about waiting for it to end.

Others feel differently, of course.

I was listening yesterday afternoon to a knowledgable journalist who believes Women Talking has picked up a headwind and will become a major Best Picture contender down the road.

Maybe, but over the last couple of days I’ve spoken to a pair of Telluride pass-holders (a wealthy 70something guy and a woman in her early 40s) who’ve told me they hated it. I’m not saying that’s the prevailing view among non-journos here, but it’s certainly a view.

I’m also personally upset and resentful about the 54% Metacritic rating for Sam MendesEmpire of Light, an exquisite film that works so beautifully and movingly, and which is 10 to 15 times better than Belfast. So far three sorehead critics have lowered Empire of Light‘s Metacritic standing to the mid 50s — TheWrap‘s Tomris Laffly, IndieWire‘s David Ehrlich and Los Angeles Times critic Justin Chang.

It’s going to be a much brighter story when Empire of Light opens and joins the general screening circuit…trust me. It’s easily one of the best films of the year, and far more emotionally satisfying than I’d expected. I went in a skeptic, but came away converted.

Done Deal

Just under three months ago it became apparent that Liz Truss, a flinty, Thatcher-like conservative, would probably succeed British Prime Minister Boris Johnson.

This morning it was announced officially — Conservative Party members have chosen Truss to replace Johnson, she having handily beaten rival Rishi Sunak, the country’s former finance minister, in the leadership race.

Truss will be sworn in as Prime Minister…uhm, soon. Johnson has to first formally resign in a letter to the Queen.

Jonathan Pie’s assessment of Truss, posted this morning in the N.Y. Times, is a worthwhile listen.

The “Whoa Whoa” Guy

Last night I caught my second viewing of James Gray’s Armageddon Time (Focus, 10.28) at Telluride’s Chuck Jones cinema. I loved this film — honest, deeply moral, genuinely sad — when I saw it in Cannes last May. I regard it as Gray’s best ever, and feel it fully deserves Best Picture consideration.

Alas, certain wokesters out there may try to beat Gray’s film with a virtue-signaling stick. Variety’s Clayton Davis sounded the alarm in Cannes, and I felt a similar tremor last night.

There’s a scene at a snooty prep school (Kew Forest) that Banks Repeta’s Paul Graff, an 11 year-old based on Gray himself, has recently enrolled in. Jaylin Webb’s Johnny, a spirited black kid from a public school Paul had previously attended and whom Paul regards as his best friend, drops by for a chat during an outdoor recess.

After Johnny leaves one of Paul’s snooty classmates asks if he was friendly with “[plural N-word]” at his previous school. The instant the kid says that, a white guy sitting 10 or 12 feet to my left said “whoa whoa” with a tone of alarm, as if to say “hold up there…that’ll be enough of THAT word, even in an ‘80s period drama…we don’t allow that term at the Telluride Film Festival.”

The “whoa whoa” guy, in short, was announcing to those within earshot that even within the context of a moral-minded period film about racial disparity and race-blaming, the use of such a term had crossed a line.

I was wondering how the “whoa whoa” guy might have reacted if that KF kid had (God forbid) repeated the term once or twice more. Would he have walked out in protest or perhaps complained to a TFF rep about Gray’s film having agitated the audience with an unsafe word?

Clayton Is Offended By Armageddon Time”, posted on 5.20.22:

Variety‘s Clayton Davis has posted a torpedo response to James Gray‘s Armageddon Time, at least as far as its awards potential is concerned. Scenes conveying white elitist viewpoints from three or four odious characters have rubbed Clayton’s woke sensibilities the wrong way.

In describing the film as deeply offensive in terms of said attitudes, Davis is half-suggesting that the film’s admirers are either missing something or oblivious to same.

The autobiographical Armageddon Time is a humanist, well-honed, memory-lane film about what Gray experienced as an 11-year-old youth in Queens, and the ugly elements that he encountered after enrolling in a Forest Hills private school. It’s the first really good film I’ve seen at this technically troubled festival.

Davis excerpt #1: “Armageddon Time, a deeply personal look at how the auteur became the auteur we, or at least the French, came to know and love, debuted to warm applause on Thursday. However, the film’s problematic depiction of racial inequalities in the Reagan era may turn off awards voters.”

Davis excerpt #2: “In a one-scene surprise, recent Oscar-winner Jessica Chastain plays U.S. State Attorney Marianne Trump, speaking to a sea of privileged white children at an elite private school, where [lead protagonist] Paul eventually attends, while Fred Trump (yes, Donald’s father) is present.

“[Marianne] channels the entitlement to be superior, oozing the grotesque and vile nature of a class of people in this country who are ‘the chosen ones’ for no other reason than the tint of their skin. While never named, two boys who use the ‘n-word’ when speaking about [a young Black protagonist] when he visits the school, have the narrative DNA of young Eric and Donald Trump Jr. The cringe factor may be too much to bear for more progressive voters.”

Davis excerpt #3: “Respected critics like Justin Chang of the L.A. Times were high on it, while Peter Bradshaw of The Guardian absolutely admonished it. Unfortunately, when this tale unveils itself stateside, a new racial debate will likely ensue regarding the undertones, similar to Licorice Pizza from Paul Thomas Anderson last year in the AAPI community. That may keep many voters at a distance.”