Month: December 2023

I’m truly lucky to have a strong constitution and therefore good health. And I absolutely love doing the column and living this rat-a-tat life on a day-to-day basis, but the best part of my journalistic hot–shot life is over. 1991 to 2019 — 28 years when things were pretty good and often delicious and sometimes wonderful. I’m simply too poor these days. Savoring the joys and adventures of yore is out of reach —that’s the long and the short of it.

Lee Sun-kyun, the popular 48-year-old South Korean actor who played the wealthy dad in Parasite (i.e., the aloof fellow who fired the long-serving maid who later knocked on the front door during the rainstorm, etc.), has apparently offed himself. Drug use apparently had something to do with this tragedy. Very sorry for all concerned.

If you know George Orwell’s “Nineteen Eighty–Four”, you surely know the sinister character of “O’Brien,” a duplicitous double agent who pretends to be Winston Smith’s friend but is actually a member of the Thought Police. OBrien’s goal is to seek out and persecute thought criminals.

I’m not saying David Poland is a manifestation of a woke O’Brien but he is unmistakably projecting a false flag narrative when he posts bullshit like the tweets below. Poland is either completely self-deluding, which doesn’t square with the fact that he’s very sharp and socially aware, or he is simply an agent of smoke and propaganda who is spewing this crap in order to politically protect himself.

You know what’s a lot better than you might expect? Rollercoaster (’77), a Jennings Lang-produced disaster thriller, made near the end of the big-budget disaster-flick cycle.

Rollercoaster was promoted as a drop-your-socks Sensurround experience, and it was that to a certain extent. But it was mainly an intelligent, low-key, logic-driven chase thriller.

You’d figure with the disaster-flick promotion there would be at least two or three scenes of rollercoaster cars flying off the tracks and people being killed, etc. There’s only one such scene, however, and it happens during the first half-hour and that’s it.

The rest is all cat-and-mouse stuff with amusement park inspector George Segal on the trail of psycho yuppie bomber Timothy Bottoms.

I would’t necessarily call it Hitchcockian but it uses elements of suspense to engaging effect.

Rollercoaster was written by Richard Levinson and William Link, the guys who created Colombo. It’s nicely (as in carefully, patiently) directed by James Goldstone (The Gang That Couldn’t Shoot Straight —-’71); Goldstone’s big-screen career was unfortunately killed when he directed When Time Ran Out… (’80).

Here’s a link to the whole film.

A little less than three years ago I posted a roster of HE’s top 20 Henry Fonda films. There was some pushback over my placing Sergio Leone‘s Once Upon A Time In The West, in which Fonda played a blackhearted villain named Frank, in 15th place.

I put it there because it wasn’t a “Henry Fonda” performance, but an aberration in the vein of Fort Apache. And yet even Fonda’s Fort Apache performance as Lieutenant Colonel Owen Thursday, a stiff-necked, emotionally constipated fanatic, represented an aspect of his own nature. (Peter Fonda once said this in an interview.) Frank was a bizarre showhorse role — completely divorced from Fonda the man and Fonda the legend.

In 19 of the 20 performances listed below Fonda was basically playing himself, which is how we’ve always preferred him.

1. 12 Angry Men
2 The Ox-Bow Incident
3. The Grapes of Wrath
4. The Lady Eve
5. The Best Man
6. The Wrong Man
7. Young Mr, Lincoln
8. Drums Along The Mohawk
9. My Darling Clementine
10. You Only Live Once
11. Fort Apache
12. On Golden Pond
13. The Boston Strangler
14. The Fugitive
15. Once Upon a Time in the West
16. Advise and Consent
17. Slim
18. Jezebel
19. The Tin Star
20. Jesse James

Arguably the worst stinkers of Fonda’s career were Mr. Roberts, Fail Safe (a technically good film that I’ve only rewatched once — that means something) and Sex and the Single Girl.

I’m not saying that people are feeling less empathy for alleged victims of sexual assault (no one should ever let that ball drop), but they seem to be feeling less knee-jerky and less Robespierre-ish in the matter of instantly condemning alleged perpetrators.

There’s no way such a proclamation would have been published three years ago. People seem to be understanding that #MeToo overplayed its hand and that a somewhat more circumspect, due-process attitude about sexual misbehavior is warranted.

In 2009 quite a few Hollywood heavyweights signed a letter in support of Roman Polanski….seems like a long time ago.

David Rothkopf to Steve Schmidt: “The irrationality of the degree of support for [The Beast]…despite his criminality, his control over the Republican party seems stronger than it’s ever been….even with all these trials, even with all we know about him….rational objections to this anti-democratic authoritarian don’t seem to hold.”

That’s because Trumpism isn’t rational — it’s emotional, primal, boiling in the blood. And Rothkopf doesn’t even allude to this.

Far-right Trump supporters believe that over the last several years U.S. culture has been under assault by the woke scourge (currently manifested by Biden’s kneejerk deference to diverse tribalism, equity favored over meritocracy, scolding white people for being white, trans values in elementary schools, Dylan Mulvaney, hordes of immigrants surging through the Mexican border), and they see him as the only hardcore bully-boy enemy of this scourge…the only guy who is saying “fuck this noise” without qualification.

Is there merit to this general thesis or analysis? To varying degrees, yes. Is it worth electing a fascist dictator in order to put a stop to this scourge, or at least to try and reverse or suppress it? Of course it wouldnt be worth it. Putting Trump back into the White House would be insanity. But like I just said, the Trump bonfire isn’t about rationality.

The strongest Best Actor narrative belongs to The Holdovers‘ Paul Giamatti — bringer of a beloved centerpiece performance (Joe and Jane Popcorn have been over the moon for Alexander Payne’s ascerbic holiday film from the get-go) plus Paul’s legendary Sideways performance wasn’t even nominated 19 years ago.

Bradley Cooper’s devotional, emotionally emphatic, technically dazzling performance as Maestro’s Leonard Bernstein is obviously a formidable challenger, but Cooper’s narrative (i.e., he really researched and worked it) doesn’t quite measure up to Giamatti’s.

And forget Oppenheimer’s Cillian Murphy at this stage — the HE narrative (in terms of recognizable human behavior Murphy’s genius physicist is quirky to the point of being inhuman — he’s playing an alien from the planet Tralfamadore) has settled into the groundwater.

Plus Oppie was a flakey wimp (building an A-bomb to kill tens of thousands of Nazis is okay but not so much a hydrogen bomb, which shouldn’t be built because it’s too big). HE sides with Harry S. Truman (“Don’t let that crybaby back in here”).

Plus no admirer of Oppenheimer believes that Murphy’s Oppie was capable of sexual arousal as aliens don’t enjoy coitus…be honest. There was no believing for a second that Murphy and Florence Pugh actually did the deed.