HE has a thing about Pedro Pascal also…hard to put my finger on “why?” but he’s definitely one of those guys who rankles on some level…perhaps not as aggressively as Mescal.

Finally some actual inclement weather. Took long enough. For the first time since cold weather began a few weeks ago I have my black leather gloves stuffed into my motorcycle jacket pockets.

On 1.15.24 Variety‘s Owen Gleiberman politely inquired about whether the Sundance Film Festival has surrendered the danger factor in its film selections. (Answer: Of course it has.)

Today (1.16.24) World of Reel‘s Jordan Ruimy, in a piece linking to Gleiberman’s column, observed the same thing.

A year ago (1.29.23) former IndieWire editor/columnist Eric Kohn sniffed around and reported the same shit.

Boiled down, they all concluded that potential threats of wokester condemnation had so terrorized filmmakers that they don’t want to take chances. They wouldn’t dare.

And yes, HE said the same thing in a two-year-old HE piece titled “Yes, Virginia…Sensitive Gargoyles Have Ruined Sundance” (12.27.21).

HE–posted on 10.17.16:

What is unmistakable is that the Mysterious Melton Award–Season Momentum (Gotham Awards, NYFCC, NSFC) has been stopped cold by Robert Downey, Jr.‘s Lewis “Salieri” Strauss…it’s over, son. Good run but time to move on.

Ten minutes into last night’s opening episode of True Detective: Night Country, I was shaking my head, faintly groaning and muttering “nope…me no like.”

Set in the fictional village of Ennis, a grubby blue-collar hellhole in northern Alaska (but filmed in Iceland), it’s about a murder mystery (eight missing scientists) mixed with spooky horror jolts (a human tongue lying on a linoleum floor, a barefoot hippie wacko standing in a snowstorm) or, if you prefer, gulpy, uh-oh, nightmarish pan-flash stuff.

And I didn’t care…sorry. I was frowning. I actually watched episode #1 twice…well, nearly. But good God and Lordy Lordy. I hated the grimness and the gloom, the atmosphere of working-class gunk and chilly vibes, fleurescent lighting and the constant downer vibes…lemme out.

Miserable Me: “Who could stand living in this godawful one-horse town?”

I didn’t like any characters except for Jodie Foster’s “Danvers”, an aloof, flinty, sourpuss chief of police who’s no fan of the Beatles. I didn’t care for Kali Reis’s “Angeline Navarro”…didn’t like her sulking, sullen attitude or her cheek studs. There’s a young, good-looking cop (Finn Bennett) I took a shine to, but within a short while, as noted, I was sinking into a puddle of despair.

My spirit surged slightly when Reis came upon a CG polar bear on Main Street, but then we go in for the close-up and OF COURSE the bear is a bit scary due to a missing left eye. As soon as I saw that gnarly black eye socket I said to myself, “Fuck this show.”