Day: May 25, 2023

“Rolling Thunder” Letdown

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“Rendezvous with Quentin Tarantino”, a special event at Theatre Croisette (home of the Directors Fortnight program), began at 4:22 pm. QT was introduced, stepped on stage to vigorous applause, and announced that John Flynn’s Rolling Thunder (‘77) would be the secret screening — a 35mm print, he proudly announced — and that a fun discussion would follow.

The film began at 4:35, and I’m sorry but it looked and sounded like shit. A faded, half-pink print. Smothered in dirt and scratch marks during the first two or three minutes and never looking or sounding all that clean. To me the dialogue was weak and whispery and barely audible, especially with the soundtrack humming and popping and crackling.

I hadn’t seen Rolling Thunder in 45 or 46 years, and if it hadn’t been for the French subtitles (which helped here and there) I would’ve been totally lost about some of the plot particulars.

You’d expect that for an event like this Tarantino would’ve gotten hold of a decent print, or relaxed his purist 35mm aesthetic (I know…heresy!) and shown a DCP. I’m sorry but I haven’t watched a film in this kind of ghastly condition in ages. We’re all accustomed to old films being restored or upgraded these days. Rolling Thunder is streaming on Amazon Prime.

QT’s affection for this Vietnam War-era revenge film is genuine, and the last thing I want to do is rain on his parade. I was really looking forward to a Thunder session but if you can’t hear a good portion of the dialogue what’s the point?

Too Much Rug

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Humphrey Bogart never had this much hair, not even when he was ten or twelve. Back in ‘51 there was no such thing as Prague hair — only wigs.

Prior to Quentin thing at Theatre de Croisette —Thursday, 3.25, 3:50 pm.

I Don’t Know About Scott

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HE is soliciting opinions about South Carolina Senator Tim Scott, who’s just announced his candidacy for the 2024 Republican nomination for president. He’s seems like a decent human being and far less psychotic (if he’s psychotic at all) than Orange Psycho, but to me he lacks a certain charismatic magnetism that we all want from a presidential candidate — the stuff that Barack Obama had in abundance.

I’m sorry but there’s something about Scott that says “game show host” or “Orange County preacher” or “high-school basketball coach.” He has a vaguely foghorn-ish, not-deep-enough voice that lacks the right kind of diction. Something in his vibe seems a little more huckterish than most of us might prefer. He seems a little less eloquent than preferred, perhaps a little too goading. Plus he looks like he doesn’t work out enough.

I liked Jim Brown, George Foreman and Harry Belafonte‘s shaved bald heads but I don’t care for Scott’s. The upper half is shaped like a bowling ball.

Meanwhile the presidential campaign of Governor Ron DeSantis has just launched, but it might already be finished.

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Buscemi’s Ayehole in “Wedding Singer”

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In yesterday’s “Worst Ayehole Means Most Infuriating & Obnoxious” piece, I should have mentioned Steve Buscemi‘s uncredited, painfully obnoxious performance in The Wedding Singer (’98), which celebrated its 25th anniversary last February. Buscemi played David Veltri, the black-sheep brother of the groom.

Where would the iconic cinema moments of the indie ’90s be without Buscemi’s characters in Fargo, The Big Lebowski, Living in Oblivion, Reservoir Dogs, Con Air, etc.?

In April ’01 Buscemi, Vince Vaughn and Scott Rosenberg got into a bar fight in Wilmington, North Carolina. They were shooting a Harold Becker film called Domestic Disturbance. Buscemi was stabbed in the neck, and was lucky to escape serious injury.

A few months later Buscemi sat down at a press table at a film junket I was covering, and for whatever reason I told him that if a short film based on the bar fight incident could be made, it might be really interesting, Buscemi was appalled, calling it a dogshit idea and looking at me like I had insects crawling out of my nose and ears.

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Anger’s Passing

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filmmaker-author Kenneth Anger (“Hollywood Babylon,” Scorpio Rising) has passed at age 96. He actually slipped the coil two weeks ago (5.11.23), but the announcement didn’t break until a day or two ago.

I first read “Hollywood Babylon” in ’77 or ’78. A flagrantly sordid, occasionally grotesque catalogue of the most sensational Hollywood scandals from the classic era (’20s through ’50s). I suspected right away that it was exaggerated, but like everyone else I found the book darkly fascinating all the same. (A Connecticut friend told me he found it gloomy and depressing — in other words he didn’t get it.) Alas, reputable journalists and Hollywood historians (including Karina Longworth) have claimed that much of it was flat-out fabricated.

The book might be bullshit, I told myself, but I didn’t want it to be, and, as we all found out last year, neither did Damien Chazelle.

Not to mention the fact that “all gossip is true.” (Who said that?) This is Hollywood, sir — when truth becomes legend, print the legend.

To this day I’ve never seen Scorpio Rising (’63), but we’re all familiar with the gay erotic legend of musclebound motorcycle guys in dark shades and black leather jackets…The Wild One, The Village People, Cruising…this is what Anger created or articulated with Scorpio Rising“>this fringey film.

Rowdy Yates in Olde England

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There are three reasons I’ve never seen Lady Godiva of Coventry (’55). One, it’s only watchable via DVD (i.e., no HD, no streaming). Two, it’s apparently a cheesy B movie, as indicated by the fact that audiences shunned it like the plague. And three, for the naked horseback scene Maureen O’Hara wore a flesh-colored body stocking and a ridiculous long red wig, the combination of which didn’t even allow for the slightest anatomical peek.

Arthur Lubin’s film is noteworthy, however, for Clint Eastwood‘s performance as “First Saxon.” Eastwood was 24 at the time. He was also dubbed — that raspy Eastwood snarl wasn’t a fit for the location and time period.