Day: December 24, 2022

[Originally posted on 8.20.15]: Director Rod Lurie is conducting another Hollywood-centric Facebook poll, this time about the greatest-ever lead performances in feature films. Which right away excludes James Gandolfini in The Sopranos so the HE version is allowing performances from longform cable.

Lurie started me off with a taste of 20 performances, and right away I was saying to myself “these are too familiar, too boilerplate…where’s that special-passion choice that defies conventional thinking?”

What is a greatest-ever performance anyway? My theory is that picks in this realm have less to do with skill or technique or even, really, the actor, and a lot more to do with the viewer and what they choose to see. The choices that people make tend to reflect their intimate personal histories on some level. Because they’re choosing performances or more precisely characters who closely mirror and express their deepest longings, fondest hopes and saddest dreams.

My late younger brother was tremendously moved by Mark Ruffalo‘s portrayal of a loser in You Can Count On Me, in large part because my brother was that character. I know a lady who’s always felt close to Vivien Leigh‘s Scarlett O’Hara in Gone With The Wind for the same reason. Bill Clinton once said on a High Noon DVD documentary that Gary Cooper‘s performance in High Noon is his all-time favorite because Will Kane‘s situation (everyone chickening out when things get tough and leaving him to stand alone) reminded him of what it’s often like for a sitting U.S. President.

When I began to assemble my pantheon the first nominees that came to mind were Gandolfini, Marlon Brando in On The Waterfront, Monica Vitti in L’Avventura, Amy Schumer in Trainwreck (I’m dead serious), George Clooney in Michael Clayton, Gary Cooper in High Noon, Mia Farrow in Broadway Danny Rose, Lee Marvin in Point Blank, Alan Ladd in Shane, Brad Pitt in Moneyball, Marilyn Monroe in Some like It Hot and Jean Arthur in Only Angels Have Wings. This is without thinking anything through or second-guessing myself.

Read more

Somebody complained earlier today that I don’t write rich, longish reviews any more. Actually, I do but only if the spirit warrants. The complainer cited my Secretariat review from 12 years ago. Listen, man…I write all day long, every damn day without fail. There’s more cultural-political stuff blended into the mix these days, and that’s what stirs my soul. If the current output doesn’t ring your bell, you know what you can do.

Posted on 10.3.10: In Secretariat (Disney, 10.8), Diane Lane gives an earnest, steady-as-she-goes performance as Penny Tweedy, the conservative housewife who risked financial ruin and defied her husband (Dylan Walsh) and brother (Dylan Baker), who wanted to sell their inherited horse farm for a quick profit, in order to nurture, train and place into competition one of the most celebrated racehorses in history.

The horse was initially named Big Red but eventually became Secretariat — legendary winner of the 1973 Triple Crown. And it’s a thrill to watch (and hear) him run. The film sometimes gives you that amazing charge with exceptional you-are-there photography and sound.

Alas, Secretariat is as rote and regimented and corny as Kansas in August, and I don’t see it selling many tickets beyond its base constituency — squares, tourists and hardcore horse-racing fans.

In short, I loved the story of Secretariat more than the movie. Actually, not the story so much as the horse-racing footage. The problem (and the movie has more than one) is that director Randall Wallace uses every trick in the book to make it seem touching, suspenseful, a cliffhanger…a story that massages your heart. Every. Trick. In. The. Book.

And so you’re not “in” the groove of Secretariat as much as fully aware of everything he’s trying to do to crank you up. You never forget you’re watching a Randall Wallace family-values movie for the schmoes — i.e., white people who stroll around in plaid shorts and white socks and La Crosse golf shirts, and who have an allegiance for old-fashioned Wonder Bread conservatism.

Everything is so right down the middle. And for me, Wallace’s directing style is too tight and straight-laced. There’s a little cut-loose dance sequence when Lane and her team are shown bopping and grooving to a ’70s soul tune, but Wallace doesn’t know how to cut and bump to this kind of thing, or at least not very well. Nor is he especially good at depicting early ’70s counter-culture kids and their behavior. It feels fake, “performed” — like some 1971 Methodist minister’s view of how hippie kids dressed and spoke and acted.

Lane has three moments that play exceptionally — (a) an argument/firing scene with a horse-farm manager in the first act, (b) a moment when she looks into the eyes of Secretariat to see if he’s ready to run, and (c) a financial face-off scene between she, Walsh and Baker. Except the latter scene is brought home by the housekeeper (Margo Martindale) when she spells out the specifics of their father’s will. A solid award-worthy performance needs three powerful moments, not two and a half. Lane’s performance wants to be as good as Sandra Bullock‘s in The Blind Side, but doesn’t quite get there. Sorry.

And Mike Rich‘s script doesn’t really give her any huge killer moments. Solid moments, but not great ones. The staring-at-Secretariat moment might be the best of all. Lane has a hold on the heart and spirit and determination that surely drove her character forward. Nice lady and mildly hot under the circumstances. But why did that wig she was wearing have to look so much like a wig? Don’t hairdressers know how to make wigs a little mussy and more natural-looking?

I quickly lost patience with Scott Glenn, who plays Lane’s ailing dad. Alzheimer’s, a stroke….die, you fucking boring actor!

Read more

HE is officially out of the woods with that aching, swollen ankle I was groaning about two days ago.

Thursday morning I went to an orthopedic clinic, cane and all. They X-rayed me, said it was osteoarthritis, gave me an anti-inflammatory (Naproxen) and a cortisone wannabe (MethylPREDNISolone) and taped the ankle. The drugs kicked in a couple of hours later, and the pain was soon gone. By yesterday the swelling had gone down to almost nothing and I removed the black tape wrap. And I’ve abandoned the cane.

The only downside is that the Naproxen-cortisone substitute combination was too much for my system, and I wound up nauseous and barfing. (Twice yesterday.) But the episode is over, thank God. Miraculous as it sounds, it’s almost like the ankle agony never happened…like it was a bad dream or something.

Posted on 12.22.22:

It’s shattering to report that over the last 30-plus hours I’ve become a near-invalid. My left ankle is aching and swollen with osteoarthritis, and I can barely hobble around with a cane.

I started using the cane yesterday, and I could barely sleep through the night for the throbbing ache and discomfort. The first wake-up happened at 2:20 am. Spotty sleep for a subsequent four hours.

Richard Rushfield calls himself The Ankler. As of this moment I have just as much of a claim to that term as he does.

Read more

IndieWire‘s Eric Kohn and Anne Thompson have posted their latest podcast, a significant portion of which focuses on the recently announced short lists.

Kohn and Thompson have always been sage, sharp and attuned and at the same time careful to stay away from any conversational topic that might translate into some kind of contrary signal as far as the dug-in wokester viewpoint is concerned. In other words they don’t seem to want to discuss anything that might cause political difficulty for them. Plus Kohn is obviously a huge fan of Everything Everywhere All At Once. And so, unless I missed something, they’ve avoided even a brief mention of the significance of EEAAO failing to make the VFX and hair/makeup short lists.**

Obviously I’ve been harping on this story due to HE’s no-retreat EEAAO takedown campaign, but in any sort of dispassionate even-steven realm how can can anyone discuss the shortlists and not at least acknowledge the obvious?

Read more

Jake Tapper: “It’s interesting, so often during this Trump era, I think about I’m, you know, I’m a history buff, not an esteemed historian, but I think a lot about how will history remember people and this era, and it just seems like some of these individuals that are enablers of Trump, just don’t even remotely think that way in terms of how is this going to look in 10 or 20 years?”

Historian/author Douglas Brinkley: “Yeah, because they have no soul and don’t have a deep love for the country. They put self-interest or political power ahead of themselves. The story of Rudy Giuliani alone will be talked about for ages.

“It’s important to realize that Donald Trump is not really part of the presidents club. He’s an outlier. In that way he will be remembered, he’s going to have his fans, but it’s more like Dillinger and Al Capone and Billy the Kid or something. There’ll be a folk cause around him, but he’s an outlaw, and somebody who in the end will be seen as an enemy of the U.S. Constitution. It might sell you some t-shirts in Gatlinburg and Tombstone, Arizona, and might keep Trump’s image alive and well, but in the real game of history, which is serious, in years to come, Trump and all of his enablers are going to be seen on the dung hill of U.S. political history.”