Several years ago a guy suggested that a miniseries based on Steven Bach‘s “Final Cut: Dreams and Disaster in the Making of Heaven’s Gate” could be great. A sprawling, dialogue-driven, slow-motion calamity flick, set mostly in Hollywood and New York with occasional detours to the shooting set with fascinating, whip-smart dialogue and one of the most unusual villains of all time — director Michael Cimino.

The instant I heard this my brain spun around, clicked its heels and said “yes!” I’m still high on the idea. A sprawling six-episode Max or Netflix or Amazon series, I’m thinking.

I’m aware of what a complete friggin’ nightmare it can be to produce films about the making of this or that classic film/play/anything if any of the principals are alive. I don’t know if getting the rights to Bach’s book (which of course was legally cleared when it was published 30 years ago) would lessen difficulties or not, but I’m dead certain that the entire world would stop whatever it’s doing to watch a miniseries about this catastrophic Hollywood saga. I got so high on the idea that I ordered a paperback version of Bach’s book — I haven’t read it in over three decades.

If you haven’t seen Michael Epstein‘s Final Cut: The Making and Unmaking of Heaven’s Gate (’04), here it is. Well ordered, smart as a whip, 78 minutes, narrated by Willem Dafoe.

In yesterday’s “Strange Architecture” piece” I criticized the odd decision of Ben-Hur‘s production designer to build a large, visually obstructive island in the middle of the Jerusalem chariot-race stadium. The result was that a significant portion of the crowd was only able to see half the racetrack and therefore half the action.

This triggered a bizarre response from “Brenkilco,” who claimed that “they only built half the track with stands on one side,” and that “a lot of fancy editing was employed but the chariots were always racing down the same straightaway.” This “illusion,” he said, “concealed the fact that there was nothing on the other side.”

Poppycock, I replied, but I couldn’t find any smoking gun photos that proved that the racetrack was completely whole with two sides. And then “SlashMC” came to the rescue with two such photos. It makes you wonder which HE commenters besides “Brenkilco” are just talking out of their ass half the time. Thanks ever much to SlashMC.

I’ve mentioned before (and I’m saying this as a relatively fit guy with broad shoulders) that actors with small, rounded shoulders are looking at an uphill situation in terms of seeming physically attractive. It’s hard not to rate if you have broad shoulders, and it’s hard not to seem…well, underwhelming and diminished if your shoulders are narrow and smallish. Sorry — it may sound cruel to say this, but it’s true.

In the eyes of some straight women a guy with broad shoulders and a relatively trim waistline radiates the same allure that straight guys sense when regarding women with big breasts.

The other night I was watching Edward Dmytryk‘s Murder My Sweet (’44) and there’s a scene in which Dick Powell takes his shirt off, and it’s not a good look…I’m tellin’ ya.

What’s the female equivalent? Well, movie cameras rarely zero in on women’s feet, but those with beefy, oversized, somewhat indelicate feet (and I’m not saying that this is any kind of widespread trait) should feel…well, relieved. I’m not naming names. Okay, I’ll name one — Jean Simmons. I’m not trying to make something out of this, but everyone understands that Elvis Presley was known for being averse to women with big thick feet. He preferred Japanese geisha feet.

My poor mom had German feet and felt self-conscious about same, and so she wore too-small shoes during her early 20s and pretty much mangled her feet a a result. I always felt badly for her in this regard.

Posted earlier today on Reddit by u/NomadSound: I’ve studied a large version of this photo of the Deliverance crew and inspected each and every face, and the following actor/characters are missing: Bill McKinney (“Mountain Man” / hillbilly rapist…”weeeeeee!“), Herbert Coward (“Toothless Man”), original novel author James Dickey (“Sheriff Bullard”), Billy Redden (genetically deformed banjo boy) and Macon McCalman (sheriff’s deputy whose brother-in-law is missing). Not to mention the Griner brothers and the old hillbilly with the hat who asked Burt Reynolds “are you from the power company?”

The woman sitting behind (and to the left) of director John Boorman and the lead actors is Ned Beatty‘s wife, Belinha Beatty. She played Jon Voight‘s wife in the final scene.

I’d really like to find a photo of Beatty and McKinney posing side by side with shit-eating grins and their arms draped around each other’s shoulders.