Six days ago (Friday, 5.23) I watched a “new 4K digital restoration” of Barry Lyndon, projected upon the big, beautiful screen at the Salle Debussy. I had somehow persuaded myself that it would somehow look better (crisper, cleaner, whatever). Well, it looked fine but unremarkable…un-bumped…about as unexceptional as a 35mm screening I caught in Savannah several years ago…no better, no worse.
If Lyndon has been shot today the images would look considerably more specific and detailed…if it had been shot with an iPhone 15 even… but it was shot on 35mm film by John Alcott 51 years ago, and the lenses of that era were what they were.
But you know what? I have a suspicion that it will look better on the 65-inch Sony 4K when the Criterion 4K disc comes out on Tuesday, 7.8..
HE to Tomris Laffly: “Two or three days ago a colleague attempted to shame me for having only seen and reviewed a miserable 22 films in Cannes….a pathetic tally compared to your having bagged 40 screenings….40!. And you reviewed each and every one, right?
“40 films in 11 days = nearly four films per day. Very impressive!! I guess you didn’t suffer the same reservation + access issues I was forced to grapple with. I’m presuming you also caught a couple of extras on Saturday, 5.24.
“And each review was how long exactly? 5 to 7 paragraphs? Shorter? Longer?
“Rest assured, no one is more impressed with your amazing screening stamina…no one is more impressed than myself.
“You earned a demerit, of course, by approving of the Jafar Panahi film winning the Palme d’Or, but then you couldn’t help yourself, I guess, being a wokey and all.”
The first indication that the culture had said “enough!”…the blessed event that told me the tectonic plates had shifted…was when Lily Gladstone didn’t win the Best Actress Oscar during the 96th Academy Awards.
Woke terror hasn’t been fully eradicated as we speak but at least it’s been losing its grip, thank God. Six and a half years of twisted insanity! And you know why it’s taken as long as this for the string to run out? One reason is people like Bobby Peru saying “there IS no woke terror….its all in your head.”
The first feature film to forsake opening credits was Walt Disney‘s Fantasia (’40), but this version has been jettisoned. Yes, the original 1940 theatrical cut was credit-less, but brief credits were added for an early ’90s home video version.
There were no opening credits for Mike Todd‘s Around the World in 80 Days (’56), although I have a memory of a 1.37:1 introduction about the eternal thirst for adventure and modes of 19th Century travel, narrated (I think) by Edward R. Murrow. But that was a pumped-up, high-tech travelogue movie + a reserved-seats roadshow thing…the first film to be presented in 30-frame-per-second Todd-AO, etc.
In fact the first general audience popcorn movie to forsake an opening credit sequence was Kirk Douglas and Richard Fleischer‘s The Vikings (’58). All the credits (above- and below-the-line) were confined to an animated sequence at the very end.
The next big-deal film to blow off opening credits was Robert Wise‘s West Side Story (’61).
And yet these the last two announced their titles at the very beginning. The first film to completely ignore a title acknowledgment was Francis Coppola‘s Apocalypse Now (’79). The 70mm roadshow version didn’t even present a closing-credits sequence, although the 35mm general release version did.
[Lost, perverted, re-posted…and the piece isn’t all that great to begin with….sorry for the loss of the comments]
I’m trying to assemble a list of supporting actors who lucked into exactly the right role and then marshalled their gifts and delivered knockout, ace-level performances…but only once.
Not that they lacked (or lack) for talent or haven’t had successful careers since, but delivering just so with a performance that really lights up a film….that’s a much rarer thing.
It may sound brusque or cruel to say that for some this kind of performance comes only once in a lifetime, but unfortunately…
Nobody worked more regularly in features and TV than John McIntire (Wagon Train, The Virginian), but if you ask me his only truly memorable role was as Sheriff Al Chambers in Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho. Partly because Mcintire played the part exactly right. Had it not been for an interior, three-minute dialogue scene in this 1960 thriller, McIntire would barely be on the radar today.
Take Dallas Roberts‘ low-key but authoritative performance as Sam Phillips in James Mangold‘s Walk_the_Line (’05)…a truly great moment in a first-rate musical biopic, but Roberts hasn’t been that lucky since.
26 years ago the late, great Nicky Katt gave a perfectly perverse performance as Stacy the hitman in Steven Soderbergh‘s The Limey….his three or four scenes rivalled Terence Stamp‘s in terms of sheer stuck-to-the-ribs longevity.
Who else? Which others? I’m not talking about supporting actors who nailed one perfect scene (that’s a separate thing), but whose one, single, diamond-bullet performance really hit home and will probably never be forgotten. But also can’t be repeated.
