Next Monday evening (8.28) all-media invitees in New York City and Los Angeles will revel in some good Denzel whupass. I for one would love to see those gangsta flash-mob store thieves receive a little Denzel discipline, but that’s me.

If only my life’s journey had led me, in the parlance of Quentin Tarantino, toward “the gay way” and the absolute joy of having some Iceman dude “ride my tail.” Alas, I’m straight (along with 95% or 96% of the population**), and so I can only press my nose against the glass and wonder what this way of life…this way of being…might be like.

Vanity Fair exclusive: “All Of Us Strangers follows Adam (Andrew Scott), a 40-something writer living alone in a nearly deserted high-rise outside of London. His neighbor Harry (Paul Mescal) drunkenly flirts with him one night, a steamy, if messy, meet-cute that develops into a tender relationship.

“Between encounters with Harry, Adam finds himself drawn back to where he grew up. In that house left behind by the family long ago, he finds his parents (Claire Foy, Jamie Bell) getting on with life — [which is] odd as his parents died in a tragic accident when he was a child. He’s hardly thrown off by their presence or their youthfulness; he finds comfort in merely being able to see them again. To tell them he’s gay. To understand them as adults. To imagine their bond that never could be.

“’It’s an opportunity to revisit your parents long after they might have passed and to have a dialogue,’ says Oscar nominee Graham Broadbent (The Banshees of Inisherin), who, alongside producing partner Sarah Harvey, first brought Haigh the book to adapt. ‘What would you tell your parents about your life if you were an adult and they were no longer with us?'”

If I was gay I would never, ever hook up with Mescal — not my type, doesn’t do it, forget about it.

The AMPTP seems to be offering a half-decent deal. They’re gaslighters, of course, but they’re calling it “the highest wage increase for the WGA in 35 years.” Then again what do I know? Nothing.

In yesterday’s “Late To This…Brilliant” post, I responded to an exciting montage of scenes from several Martin Scorsese films, and more particularly to a clip from a black-and-white sex scene from Scorsese’s Who’s That Knocking At My Door?” (’68) — his first feature film.

It featured Harvey Keitel, of course. I wasn’t certain if costar Zina Bethune was part of it, but I thought she might be.

A guy I described as helpful (in this instance) friendo explained the basics:

“Yes, it’s Who’s That Knocking, and it’s NOT Zina Bethune, who was a nice girl who didn’t do nudity.

“The sex scene — a dream sequence — was shot in Amsterdam with Keitel and a series of European model/actresses.

“It was added because a would-be distributor in the United States agreed to pick up the movie but only if it had a nude scene that could give it grind house appeal.

“Scorsese was up to something in Paris at the time, got the funds from the would be distributor, had Keitel fly to Europe, tried to work the actor’s hair into an approximation of what it looked like when they shot the rest of the film, and concocted the sequence. For some reason Amsterdam was more viable than Paris at the time.

“Scorsese actually was so scared about running afoul of customs that he hid the reel like contraband when he left for the States.”

HE responds: Fascinating recap but I have questions. Scorsese presumably didn’t meet the Brooklyn-based distributor, Joseph Brenner (who was always looking to exploit sexual content in films, and whose company was either called Joseph Bremer Associates or Medford Film Distribution) in Paris. Why would he encounter Brenner way the hell over there?

Why Scorsese decided to fly Keitel to Amsterdam for the filming of the sexual dream sequence is a total mystery, but from our 2023 perspective it seems that if the pure-of-heart Zina Bethune (whose character obviously would and should have been a significant presence in the sexual fantasies of Keitel’s character)…if Bethune wasn’t such a conservative, no-nudity prude, the dream sequence could have been filmed in a lower Manhattan loft for a small fraction of the cost of the Amsterdam shoot. (No air fare or hotel bills, for one thing.)

Okay, I am judging somewhat. I’m sharing a certain observational concern about the ahistorical S&M (B&D?) lipstick labeling on Vanessa Kirby’s neck.

This just-released teaser poster for Ridley Scott’s Napoleon (Apple/Sony, 11.22) is obviously aimed at the you-go-girl crowd. Oh, to have been an irreverent queen of France, guided by whim and smothered in early 19th Century luxury!, etc.

But the lipstick also tells me that Scott’s film may be tilting a bit more toward the aesthetic styling of Sofia Coppola’s Marie Antoinette and less in the highly scrupulous manner of Stanley Kubrick’s Barry Lyndon.

Or maybe the marketing has nothing to do with the film at all. Who knows?

The Duellists-era Ridley was a classicist, but maybe he’s decided to adapt to new ways of thinking?