2:25 am at JFK, approach to Terminal 4. I’m almost perversely enjoying this wee hour nightmare. My inner Lee Marvin is brusquely defying the discomfort. Whatever life throws at me, I’ll take it in stride.

…but I absolutely love radiating negative piss vibes in the direction of cancel-culture fanatics like Osgood Perkins….seriously…eff you, Ozzy. Oh, and by the way? Longlegs was way, way overpraised.

Joe Biden‘s big farewell address happens tomorrow night (Monday, 8.19) at the Democratic National Convention in Chicago. He’s going be showered by loyalist love and cheer, but never forget what a deranged, unhinged sonuvabitch he sounded like between that catastrophic debate performance on 6.27.24 and his blessed withdrawal from the race on 7.19.24.

For 24 days Joe Biden showed the civilized world that he’d become one of the most selfish and obstinate Oval Office pricks in the country’s 250-year history.

For three and a half weeks doddering Joe insisted on a fantasy that everyone knew was hopeless — that he could beat Donald Trump on 11.5.24. Don’t buy the lie. Biden didn’t withdraw because he saw the light and decided to put his country’s welfare above his own political ambition…bullshit. He withdrew his candidacy because he was heavily pressured to do so. Otherwise this egoist would be running today and taking the country to doom and ruin. He’s a bastard.

— from Maureen Dowd‘s “The Dems Are Delighted, But a Coup Is Still a Coup,” posted on 8.17.24.

I have basked in the glow of Alain Delon for decades. His aloof vibe, youthful beauty, gangster coolness. He’s as big of a 20th Century world cinema legend as Marlon Brando, Humphrey Bogart, James Dean, etc. He’s as eternal as it gets, and now he’s gone at age 88.

The progressive left decided to hate him several years ago for the crime of becoming an anti-feminist and an anti-immigrant right-winger. I’m sorry he went there, but old guys tend to be less tolerant and more hair-trigger. We all know this.

Delon’s peak period lasted 17 years (’60 to ’76), beginning with Rene Clement‘s Purple Noon (’60), continuing with Jacques Deray‘s Borsalino (’70) and ending with Joseph Losey‘s Mr. Klein (’76).

Other highlight films include Luchino Visconti‘s Rocco and His Brothers, Michelangelo Antonioni‘s L’Eclisse, Luchino Visconti‘s The Leopard, Jean Pierre Melville‘s The Samurai and Le Cercle Rouge, Jack Cardiff’s The Girl on a Motorcycle and Deray’s La Piscine.

Last night I finally caught Doug Liman, Matt Damon and Casey Affleck’s The Instigators (Apple+, 8.9), and during the first 20 minutes I knew for a fact that the Rotten Tomatoes naysayers (critics plus Joe Popcorn) had been mostly clueless and certainly small-minded in their pissy reactions.

For this downbeat Boston noir comedy is a true American original —- The Friends of Eddie Coyle meets deadpan screwball fatalism.

Despite the downish tone of this heist-gone-wrong ensemble chase thriller, it’s fundamentally a low-key noir comedy…sardonic sarcasm meets “fuck our lousy luck and Jesus, have we fucked things up or what?” meets a kind of loser Keystone Cops squad of half-assed, not-smart-enough “bad” but not altogether disreputable guys, principally played by Damon (who produced through Artists Equity) and Affleck (who co-wrote the script with Chuck Maclean). Their performances are sweet, sublime, spot-on.

I was truly delighted by this existential crime sitcom, which is darkly hilarious without ever quite announcing that’s a hah-hah “comedy”. It’s certainly too smart and cool for the idiots out there who hate the idea of mixing humor and loser-stamped noir. It almost delivers the same kind of tonal balancing act that Pulp Fiction was about.

And the supporting cast is aces — Hong Chau, Paul Walter Hauser, Michael Stuhlbarg, Ving Rhames, Alfred Molina, Toby Jones, Jack Harlow, etc.

The only thing that doesn’t work is the title. If it was my show I’d call it I’ve Been Waiting All My Life To Fuck Up Like This.