I’d forgotten that Fresh Cream was recorded in August ’66, and released four months later (December). If you accept Terry Valentine‘s definition of the ’60s (“It was just ’66 and early’67…that’s all it was”), Fresh Cream was right in the sweet spot. If you ask me N.S.U., Dreaming and Toad are as good as that group ever got. I realize this is a minority opinion, hut there it is.

One, the middle section of Anora never, ever drags…not once, not even briefly. It doesn’t really take off, in fact, until roughly the 50- or 55-minute mark. The first act is all set-up. It pays off in Act Two — farcically, comically — and then it goes to Vegas (“Your son hates you so much that he married me, and by the way he’s a fucking pussy”) and returns to Brooklyn, and then reaches inside at the very end and transcends itself.

Two, the fact that “it doesn’t really seem to have anything larger to say about the world today,” as Scott Feinberg has put it, is precisely, profoundly and deliciously why it’s such a standout. It’s not preaching or messaging or offering any “this is how life sometimes is”, food-for-thought material. It’s just Brighton Beach, man. It’s not La Strada, although it does deliver a certain catharsis if you let it in. Anora is specific rather than general or universal. Either you get that or you don’t.

…or not? My basic opinion was that it steamrolls with such eye-filling verve and intensity that it’s hard not to at least give the film credit for selling the shit out of itself.

If you happen to pass by these murals in NYC or LA, take some photos and tag us. We can’t wait to see them! #ACompleteUnknown pic.twitter.com/9IT9zgGbam

— A Complete Unknown News (@acufilmnews) November 23, 2024

Joseph Kosinski‘s F1, the Brad Pitt Formula One thrill drama, will open seven months hence (6.27.25).

Three thoughts occured as I contemplated F1‘s arrival. Thought #1 was that it’ll almost certainly be good. Thought #2 was that if anyone dies, it won’t be the second-billed Damson Idris because black dudes aren’t allowed to die these days. Thought #3 was that I need to re-watch John Frankenheimer‘s Grand Prix (’66) and Steve McQueen‘s Le Mans (’71) as preparation.

Guess what? Grand Prix, which I hadn’t seen in ages, is dramatically better than decent and technically excellent…make that wonderful. I had such a great time that I streamed it twice. Magnificent, super-sharp 70mm cinematography, at times multi-panelled, beautifully cut, always breathtaking. A nearly three-hour film with an intermission and a delicate, genuinely affecting Maurice Jarre score.

All in all a classy, well engineered, nicely honed immersion…a flush European vibe to die for.

You can sense right off the top that Frankenheimer is, like, ten times more invested in the race cars than in the romantic-sexual intrigues (the mid 40ish Yves Montand and Eva Marie Saint occupy center stage in this regard) and yes, the emotional renderings in Robert Alan Aurthur‘s script are on the subdued, subtle side. But the couplings and uncouplings feel believable, at least, and certainly don’t get in the way.

Grand Prix won three tech Oscars — Best Sound Effects (Gordon Daniel), Best Film Editing (Fredric Steinkamp, Henry Berman, Stewart Linder, Frank Santilloa) Best Sound (Franklin Milton). Frankenheimer (whom I got to know a little bit in the late ’80s) was nominated for a DGA directing award.

Grand Prix made $20.8 million in the U.S. and Canada (serious money back then) and returned almost $10 million to MGM.

Every action frame of Grand Prix feels genuine and unsimulated. The tragic ending is foretold and foreshadowed.

Friendo sez: “Apple’s Reckoning Day is at hand after an avalanche of free spending (Napoleon, Blitz, Wolfs, Fly Me to the Moon, Killers of the Flower Moon, Argylle) and not much to show for it. Tim Cook has told his dumbo execs to lower budgets and actually make hits….duhhh.

Jamie Erlicht and Zack Van Amburg were the new Golan Globus but with unlimited funds — soft-touch bros, the art of over-spending. Now their purse strings have been pulled tight.

“Apple’s strategy was basically to buy into big names…Scorsese, DiCaprio, Scott, Clooney, Pitt, etc. Clooney dismissed reports that he and Pitt were way overpaid for Wolfs, but I heard they were, in fact, overpaid by a tonload. Does anyone care that Wolfs 2 has been tossed?”

Apple’s strange decision to keep Steve McQueen‘s Blitz out of the major early-fall festivals is still a head-scratcher. I fell for Blitz after finally catching it a couple of weeks ago, and it just didn’t add up to show disrespect for McQueen’s expertise and vision.

After Blitz, the best Apple film by far IMHO is Doug Liman‘s The Instigators — here’s what I wrote about it on 8.18.24: