Jeffrey Wells

Anguish, Burden, Resignation

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For the rest of my moviegoing life I’m going to be stuck with Paul Mescal. Shackled to, besieged by. He’s obviously not going away. My soul aches, churns.

I’m slightly terrified…okay, that’s harsh. I’m certainly concerned about having to watch Mescal’s William Shakespeare, particularly during a tragic episode shared with wife Anne Hathaway (Jessie Buckley) over the death of their 11 year-old son, Hamnet.

Chloe Zhao, the celebrated Nomadland Oscar-winner who suffered brand damage from the generally despised Eternals, will direct.

Will Most 50-Plus Academy Members Vote For Bening?

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Within the Best Actress race, Awards Daily’s Sasha Stone is flirting with the idea of a surprise win for Nyad’s Annette Bening.

NYC gabbermouth Bill McCuddy: “Most younger members will vote for Gladstone and Stone, and this could cancel them out. The Old Guard will ALL vote for oft-nominated Bening.”

Suggested Jimmy Kimmel joke, written by McCuddy: “It’s ironic now that both Bening and Beatty are known for their breast strokes.”

Deadline’s Pete Hammond:

HE just wants the Best Actress Oscar to go to an actress who delivered a performance of serious merit — Stone, Bening, Huller or Mulligan. I’m fine with any of these guys winning.

What?

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McDormand, Portman, Blanchett, Lawrence, Collette, Witherspoon…that’s it, just these six. Okay, Morton makes seven.

Without Movies

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…life wouldn’t have a great deal of meaning. Okay, it would obviously deliver a certain amount on its own weight and steam, but movies bring it all into focus, if you catch my drift.

This may be the greatest George Lucas quote I’ve ever read. It makes me even more sorry that he’s worn so many godawful flannel shirts.

From Jeanine Basinger and Sam Wasson’s “Hollywood: The Oral History” (‘22).

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I’m Sorry

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…but this is an interesting photo, and saying this doesn’t make me a terrible person. And look at those hands.

Misbegotten

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…and probably best forgotten.

A World of Reel commenter named “M” has nailed the basic problem with Leonardo DiCaprio’s dumb-as-a-fencepost Ernest Burkhart character:

Yes, that’s 100% correct. Texas FBI guy Tom White should have been the main character.

Done With “Night Country”

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I’m watching episode 3 of True Detective: Night Country, and despite my attachment to the legend of Jodie Foster I really am done with it. Just not for me, bruh. It’s too dark, too buried, too “lemme outta here”, too labrynthian, too snowy, too grimy, too scowling, too complex and drawn out…too much of a nativist celebrationist thing, too chanty, too indigenous, too face-painty, too cheek-studdy, too “all the men except one good-looking young cop are appalling or fleshy or ugly rednecks or deep-down diseased”…too rank-smelling, too unattractive, too downish, too frostbitten, too sullen, too grubby, too “ya wanna fuck?”, too haunted and too many hoodie parkas…angry women, bruised women, resentful women, horrified women, dead women, hell-bent women…fine, good, you can have it…later.