Significant Emotional Gesture

Soon after they enter the Taft Hotel, Elaine Robinson (Katherine Ross) is at first puzzled and then vaguely alarmed that so many staffers are (a) effusively greeting Benjamin Braddock (Dustin Hoffman) and yet (b) addressing him as “Mr. Gladstone.”

After a midget bellboy adds his own Gladstone greeting (“And how are you this evening?”) Elaine’s alarm slightly intensifies, and yet she expresses this by removing her left hand from her coat pocket and touching Ben’s right elbow.

The chaotic wedding finale aside, Elaine’s gesture represent the gentlest, most emotionally sincere and curiously touching moment in the entire film. It happens at the :15 mark.

Vandalized Hot Dog Sign Above Rte. 7 Take-Out Stand

Sometimes the dopiest attempts at humor are not only funny but lasting.

Back in ’75 three of us — myself, my cousin Chrie and a quietly sassy Manhattan dude named Carl Houk — were driving north on Route 7 (Norwalk to Wilton).

We passed a hot-dog stand I’d known for years. It had a hand-painted sign (red on black) mounted on the roof, and had always said the same generic thing — ARTS Roessler Hot Dogs**. Except this time Houk pointed out a pretty good job of vandalizing the sign, the artist having used the right shade of red paint and all…

FARTS

Roessler Hot Dogs

I couldn’t stop chuckling. Something about the owner knowing he had to re-paint the sign, but not having found the time with customers arriving each day and thinking to themseles “hmmm, yeah… FARTS.” I’d think of the sign an hour or two later and the giggles would start again. I kind of hate people who laugh excessively, but I was certainly no one to talk that day.

Here we are a half-century later and I’m still having fun with it.

Around a year after the 1975 sighting Carl Houk killed himself inside his East Village apartment. Gas oven.

** There was never an apostrophe between the T and the S.

Branch Davidian Spirits Hand “Anora” Three Biggies

Earlier today the progressiely-around-the-bend Spirit Awards gave Sean Baker‘s Anora their top three trophies — Best Feature, Best Director (Baker) and Best Lead Performance (Mikey Madison).

There’s a longtime HE commenter (his real-life initials are L.B.) who’s been saying all along that as much as he personally likes Anora, it won’t win many big awards as it’s too sexual and too profane, as least as far as the old farts are concerned. I think he owes the HE community an explanation about how he came to this conclusion. No big deal — just explain what told you this.

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Respect for Late George Armitage

George Armitage is gone at the age of 83? Sorry to hear….sorry and sad, but at least my evening’s activity is decided upon. Grosse Point Blank (’97) and the great Miami Blues (’90).

The early ’90s to early aughts were Armitage’s directing heyday, thanks to the critical huzzahs and decent box-office earnings generated by Blues and Blank.

Armitage began as an exploitation-level director in the ’70s. Alas, the reception to Vigilante Force (’76), a crude and schlocky drive-in flick that he wrote and directed and which subsequently tanked, earned poor George a 14-year stretch in movie jail. Then, as noted, he was out and fancy free during the ’90s.

But then Armitage wrote and directed The Big Bounce (’04), which did so poorly — $50 million to shoot, $6.8 million domestic box-office — that he was sent back to jail, and that time they threw away the key.

Vigilante Force “was the creation of writer and director George Armitage, who saw his career temporarily derailed when Vigilante Force flopped. It would take till 1990’s Miami Blues and then 1997’s Grosse Point Blank for him to get back on track, and by then it was too late for him to establish himself as anything but a cult curio with film buffs wondering what he might have achieved with more opportunities.” — from a review in the UK-based The Spinning Image.

Happening Right Here

We are clearly living right now under something fairly close to a post-democratic reactionary dictatorship.

I have no problem with Trump going after woke derangement, DEI and trans gender insanity, but the DOGE stuff is scary and some of the new terms seem outrageous, like Trump’s calling Zelensky a dictator, lying about his having started the Ukraine war and insisting upon mineral rights as a basis for a U.S.-Ukraine relationship.

Dissenters and anti-Trumpers are out there, obviously, but we’re in the thick of a semblance of fascist rule all the same. No strong opposition…everyone falling into line. Heads are spinning. Many Democrats still appear to be woozy, in shock. Not a developing situation, but one that’s happening right now and right here.

Earlier today Variety‘s Owen Gleiberman openly wondered if a scary, authoritarian, non-democratic government could actually happen here:

“I’ve rarely experienced such a bone-chilling reaction as the one I had watching Walter SallesI’m Still Here. The movie itself, especially the first hour, is powerful. But that’s not what it was; I’ve seen plenty of powerful political films.

“What felt new to me — and intensely disquieting — was taking in a saga of repression like this one and wondering if it now had the potential to happen in America. I felt as if it was a question I’d never had to ask myself before.

“It’s not as if there hasn’t been staggering oppression within the confines of the United States. When you watch a movie drama about racism, from To Kill a Mockingbird to Malcolm X to Fruitvale Station, you’re seeing the scalding reality of systemized injustice.

“But I’m talking about something different: the specter of dictatorship.

In 249 years, that has never defined America. And as we all struggle to wrap our heads around the question of what the second Trump term will mean, how far it will go, how much the rule of law is threatened, and how much freedom will be lost — the question of whether, in fact, it can happen here — it’s clear to me now more than ever that the movies have been teaching us about all this for decades.

We are not in the world of Costa-Gavras‘s Missing (’82), which I regard as the most chilling drama about a South Anerican fascist dictatorship and the secret murdering of leftist dissenters. American progressives are not being “disappeared,” of course, but this kind of oppression is closer than some of us might realize.

“Apprentice” Helmer In Trouble Over Ass-Slapping Incident

Remember that ridiculous, two-year-old story about Brendan Fraser boycotting the 2023 Golden Globe telecast because Phillip Berk, the HFPA’s former president, had not only gently groped Fraser’s ass but may have even stuck his finger between the cheeks and attempted God knows what…remember what a wuss Fraser seemed to be after this story broke?…”I’ve been molested and it kinda made me cry” or words to that effect…what a fucking little baby.

When I was 15 or 16 I was groped on at least two separate occasions by a couple of middle-aged queers on 42nd Street. I would be walking east towards Times Square and the creepies would “accidentally” bump into me and furtively pat my schlong. You think I whined or cried about this? You think I went to the cops and reported sexual assault? No — I was Lee fucking Marvin. I just pushed on and ignored it.

Yesterday it was reported that Apprentice director Ali Abbasi had left CAA and Management 360 over his having patted or slapped the ass of an actor whom he knew and had hung out with previously. The ass-patting happened at a CAA Golden Globes after-party.

“I want to address the recent articles about me directly and openly,” Abbasi wrote on X. “I fully understand that my action made someone uncomfortable, regardless of my intent, and for that, I am truly sorry.”

“I had spent time with the person concerned on multiple occasions and had reason to think we had a friendly relationship. When I saw him at the Golden Globes party, I was excited to reconnect. I made an over-familiar gesture — a slap on the rear — which I intended as playful and not in any sexual way whatsoever. I quickly realized I had misjudged the situation. I apologized to him on the spot, and the following day I made sure my apology was reiterated through my representatives.”

Offended actor to Abassi after the Golden Globes ass-slapping: “My God, Ali…what did you just do?”

Abassi to offended actor: “Did I do something….? Jesus, calm down, man.”

Offended actor to Abassi: “‘Calm down’? Are you kidding? You’ve just destroyed your career and I’m going to be your executioner! Because you fucking patted my ass just like those gay guys patted Jeffrey Wells‘ package on 42nd Street and like Phillip Berk patted Brendan Fraser‘s ass and probably like Kevin Spacey patted Guy Pearce‘s ass on the set of L.A. Confidential, and nobody gets away with that shit! You’re a dead man!”

Abassi to offended actor: “It was a reckless, half-assed gesture of affection…God! Sorry to rile you but…wow. Did I poke my finger into your anus? No. Did I grab your cock? No. Did I cup one of your ass cheeks in my hand? No. But now I have to die? What kind of a world are we living in? What kind of a man are you?”

Offended actor to Abassi: “Good God, I’m weeping over this….can’t you see the tears streaming down my cheeks? I’m crying because emotionally I’m basically a three-year-old girl. Boo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo….you slapped my little baby bottom! Waaahhhhh! And you’re going to pay! Hell hath no fury like an actor whose ass has been patted by a noteworthy director. I will get you, Abassi! By the time this is over you’ll be lucky if you wind up wearing the uniform of a bloody toilet attendant.”

Variety‘s Jack Dunn: “Abbasi will still be in attendance at Saturday’s Indie Spirit Awards despite the controversy.”

If I could attend the Spirits I’d go right up to the Apprentice table and bend over next to Abassi and ask for a nice gropey ass-massage. Give it to me, Ali…take me to ass-massage heaven. And then I’d go over to the actor who complained and say, “Did you see that, ya little punk? I’ve half a mind to do the same to you, fuckhead. You really need to be bitch-slapped.”

Menendez Monsters Will Stay In The Can…Sorry, Wokeys!

The “Free the Menendez Brothers” wokeys believed that that alleged sexual abuse of Erik Menendez by his murdered father Jose Menendez…the wokeys and their chief advocates, former Los Angeles district attorney George Gascon along with Kim Kardashian and Monsters producer Ryan Murphy, should have changed the game.

The wokeys were basically saying the brothers probably wouldn’t have killed Jose and and their mother Kitty if Jose hadn’t severely traumatized Eric by fucking him in the ass a few times. So what the hell…let bygones be bygones and allow the boys to (heh-heh) slide, so to speak.

“Whoa, whoa, hold up there”, current DA Nathan Hochman said on Thursday, 2.21. “Jose may or may not have fucked Eric in the ass,” Hochman more or less said, “but Eric and his brother Lyle still shotgunned their parents to death in 1989, plus they’re proven liars and hucksters so fuck the wokey rationale — these guys aren’t going anywhere…they’re going to stew in jail for decades to come, and the wokeys who wanted the brothers to be paroled are fucking ass-wack sickos.”

The wokeys, in short, basically believed that if you’ve been sexually abused you’re almost not guilty of murdering your abuser[s]. Or, you know, that your guilt has been mitigated by the trauma of being ass-fucked. They believed that Erik and Lyle having done 25 or 30 years in jail…well, that was enough.

Emetic Events

From “​The World Is There for the Carving,” a N.Y. Times discussion about the trump administration’s rogue foreign-policy initiatives featuring Patrick Healy, M. Gessen and Bret Stephens:

Stephens: “It might be premature to draw firm conclusions. But, for now, I’d say the word ‘realignment’ feels much too weak. ‘Reversal‘ comes closer to the mark. A reversal in our vision of who counts as a democrat or a dictator. A reversal in who counts as a friend or an adversary. A reversal in our approach to the domestic politics of allied states. A reversal in the overall direction of our post-World War II foreign policy, which was about supporting embattled or enfeebled allies, promoting economic liberalization, embracing democracy or at least nontotalitarian states, favoring open societies over closed ones. It’s a world turned upside down.

Another thing: It feels that Trump is seeking to turn America into a predatory state. The casual demand that Denmark relinquish Greenland. The not-so-casual demand that Ukraine hand over much of its mineral wealth. The surly threats to Panama, whose president is as pro-American as they come. The deal to return desperate Venezuelan refugees to the socialist dictatorship from which they fled in hunger and desperation. The joking — or not — about turning Canada into a 51st state. The unilateral and unprovoked trampling of trade agreements, like the U.S.-Mexico-Canada trade agreement he negotiated in his first term as a replacement for NAFTA.

“There are, in fact, spots where I find myself agreeing with the administration, particularly its tough stance on Hamas and Iran. I don’t want to lose sight of that. But on the whole, I find myself returning to the same word: nauseating. In fact, it’s actually worse: emetic.

Healy: “What you’re describing, Bret, I’ve come to think of as a new Trump doctrine: coercive conquest. And what’s extraordinary is that we now have a president of the United States who subscribes to the same worldview of coercive conquest as the president of Russia. Are you surprised that Trump is going in this predatory direction?

Stephens: “Surprised? The reason I voted for Kamala Harris, despite my millions of reservations about her competence and ideas, is that I feared something like this. Still, it is breathtaking to experience these policy shifts in real time. Also astonishing, in that some of these positions will be politically ruinous for Trump if he really follows through with them. If, for instance, Zelensky is deposed and a Russian puppet government in the mold of Belarus is somehow installed in Kyiv, it will be as politically disastrous for Trump as the swift fall of Kabul was for Joe Biden. To use Trump’s preferred epithet, it will look very weak.

M. Gessen: “Putin has been saying for years, in many different ways, that what he really wants — and feels he deserves — is to return to 1945, when the leaders of the U.S.S.R., the U.S. and Britain sat down in Yalta and carved up Europe. This idea is fundamental to Putin’s understanding of the world as it should be. He feels that Russia was cheated out of what it had won, fair and square, both in terms of land and in terms of influence. The war he unleashed in Ukraine was — and he made this explicit — had as its goal the recapture of power and land in accordance with this vision.

“So it’s not about Ukraine, has never been about Ukraine. And what he is proposing to Trump as they start talking — we are seeing this in the readouts of their first, 1.5-hour phone conversation and in the hypercharged tweets of Aleksandr Dugin, Putin’s favorite so-called intellectual — is to sit down and carve up the world.”

Demi Moore Has Peaked; Support Is Ebbing

The Demi Moore Best Actress bandwagon was slowing down anyway (partially due to my own takedown riffs as well as the eloquent Jennifer Sey), but it stopped dead when Anora‘s Mikey Madison won the Best Actress award at the BAFTAs.

People have seen through the phony-baloney “Moore had to sublimate her artistic ambitions” narrative, and now Awards Daily‘s Sasha Stone and The Contending‘s Clarence Moye and Mark Johnson are agreeing that Madison has the scent of a winner.

Madison! Mikey Madison! Old Academy males always vote for the hotties! Maddy isn’t 100% locked but as HAL said when Dave Bowman was disconnecting his brain, “I can feel it…I can feel it.”

Moore might win anyway, I realize, as the same older-women crowd that voted for Jamie Lee Curtis‘s atrociously broad performance in EEAAO…they’re also in Moore’s corner. No accounting for taste.

@bobbydotube Substance starring Demi Moore possibly the worst movie I’ve ever seen in my life! It made absolutely no sense whats so ever! Waste of money and time on top of that? Nobody knew who Debbie Moore was and after this movie, I wish I didn’t know her either you should be ashamed of yourself, Demi Moore.! ##substance##demimoore##worstmovieever ♬ original sound – Bobby DoTube

I Saw The Original “Glengarry Glen Ross” 41 Fucking Years Ago

At the John Golden Theatre (52 W 45th St., New York, NY 10036) on 3.25.84. And it was opening night as all the big-gun critics were there (including Frank Rich). The voltage in the room seemed to augment the play’s impact. I was in heaven.

Directed by Gregory Mosher, and starring Joe Mantegna, Mike Nussbaum, Robert Prosky, Lane Smith, James Tolkan, Jack Wallace and J. T. Walsh. And it was beautiful, brilliant, electifying, mesmerizing, historic.

Particularly Mantegna as Rick Roma — he owned that role the way Marlon Brando owned Stanley Kowalski and Humphrey Bogart owned Duke Mantee.

And the Alec Baldwin character wasn’t even in it…no Cadillac Eldorado, no set of steak knives as a second prize, no “third prize is you’re fired”….none of that.

I’m flirting with trying to see the new limited-run version with Kieran Culkin, Bob Odenkirk and Bill Burr. I know it can’t measure up to the original but maybe. I’ll play it by ear.

Joe Mantegna to N.Y.Times: “I’m reading this script — about leads and all this stuff — I didn’t know what the hell Mamet was even talking about. But the guy’s name is Ricky Roma. My name’s Joe Mantegna. He’s an Italian-American. He’s from Chicago. I certainly knew hustlers. I just had to fill in the blanks. When I walked on that stage, my feeling was: I am that matador. And I’m gonna kill every bull that comes into the arena.”

Does Anyone Even Remember “Eat Pray Love”?

Originally posted on 8.12.10, or just shy of 15 years ago: “Eat Pray Love is less about the Elizabeth Gilbert book than about director Ryan Murphy being Julia Roberts‘ bitch and kissing her ass in ever shot and scene — okay, yes.

“But it’s a carefully crafted, nicely-made movie that at least aspires to some kind of character-based transcendence. It only works in spots, agreed, but the ambition alone contains a certain value. I’m giving it a C for overall delivery but an A- for effort.

“Speaking as a former LSD Hindu, it’s impossible for me to condemn a movie that tries to convey spiritual matters on some level or in some fashion. It also deserves credit for its conveying the simple enjoyment of things, and its grappling with how difficult it can be to forgive yourself for stupid mistakes and to show vulnerability and openness when faced with the possibility of a bountiful new relationship, and all that jazz.

“Does it feel nonetheless like a somewhat superficial Conde Naste Traveller thing, a taste of this and that spiritual hors d’oeuvre? Yeah, it pretty much does. But it’s reaching for more than what typical formulaic chick flicks provide. At least it’s making a stab.

“I didn’t ‘like’ a lot of Eat Pray Love, and I confess to checking my watch about six or seven times, but I at least respect what it tried to do, and I know that anyone who says it doesn’t handle at least some things fairly well is just not being fair.

“You can make fun of the fact that EPL has the general look, aroma, sound and vibe of a first-class ride made by the Ryan Murphy’s and Amy Pascal‘s of the world — people who live high on the hog and who have enlightened liberal attitudes about self-discovery. You can say that’s not enough and that the film is actually selling a kind of elitist elixir, but the song choices are nice (Neil Young!) and some of the dissolves and transitions are exceptional, and it has at least one exquisite scene about the eating of a sublime dish of fresh tomato pasta.

“And it has a great line about how guys never complain that much if the naked lady they’re making love to has a bit of a paunch.

Eat Pray Love can be a bothersome thing to sit through in certain…okay, more than a few ways. It’s tidy, shallow and ‘pretty’ when it needs to be darker and quirkier and more exposing in terms of the unsavory or unappealing qualities that we all share. But it’s well cut and luminous and even shimmering at times, and — even the haters have to admit this — very well performed for the most part.

“As much as I dislike who Roberts seems to be and my problems over the years with her affected acting style, she isn’t half bad in the Gilbert role. This may be the most genuine and deeply felt performance of her life. God, it almost physically hurt to say that!

“As Roberts’ settled-down romantic interest (i.e., once she arrives in Bali), Javier Bardem stands and shuffles around on rock-solid terra firma, and shows serious heart and vulnerability. In one fell stroke he’s completely counter-balanced his No Country for Old Men bad guy.

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