Jeffrey Wells

I feel happy…truly happy now. This feels to me like …well, I wasn’t around but this is probably what VE or VJ Day felt like to millions of Americans.

…around people who say “see this movie only with people you feel safe with.”

What might happen of an unwelcome nature if you were to see, say, an ethnically-focused film with someone or a group of people you didn’t feel “safe” with? What would these imagined threat people do that might mess with your heads or feelings? How would they malign your viewing experience?

Remember that 20something TikTok woman who called upon white moviegoers to not attend commercial showings of Black Panther: Wakanda Forever on opening night?

I’ve been watching films all my life (starting at age four or five) without knowing or caring to know if people sitting around me were “safe” or not. As long as they don’t talk or text or take their smelly shoes off I can watch films with anyone.

Because I really don’t want Kamala Harris to take over. Really. I’m a center-lefty (i.e., a centrist with a classic liberal history before the scourge of wokeism) but I’d honestly feel better about Nikki Haley. She’s a better candidate now than Harris was in ‘19 and early ‘20.

“That’s the one thing that Democrats and Republicans have in common — they’re both waiting for their [likeliest Presidential] candidates to die.” — Bill Maher monologue, 11.10.23.

I’ve sliced out the date and location of this festive affair, but doesn’t it feel great with the SAG/AFTRA strike over and done with and actors finally free to mix and mingle?

…don’t give The Marvels your box-office dollars this weekend. The megaplexes are obviously counting on families to show up and inhale the popcorn and slurp down those giant-size Cokes, but don’t do it! A 61% Rotten Tomatoes rating means “it stinks!”

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According to Barnes, Koblin and Sperling:

THR reports there was a huge end-of-strike celebration last night at All–Season Brewing, which is located at 800 So. La Brea, tucked inside (or directly adjacent to) the Firestone building at the corner of Wilshire Blvd.

It was unseasonably warm when this snap of Daniel Day Lewis, 66, and Bradley Cooper, 48, was shot during an allegedly recent Manhattan stroll. Right away you’re thinking Cooper wants DDL to come out of retirement. Lewis has presumably seen Maestro.

Both men are obviously in excellent shape, but clothing-wise they’re on separate planets.

Cooper’s royal blue T-shirt is totally high-thread-count and blends with the slim-straight jeans. He obviously calculated that if he was wearing canary-yellow sneakers (an HE footwear thing for years) he had to wear a bright yellow cap along with the de rigeur tinted shades. Nothing says “I am a hotshot celebrity who fancies a 21st Century Greta Garbo attitude!” like this headgear combo.

Lewis’ gray-with-white-pinstripe shirt looks a tiny bit rednecky, and I don’t know what to say about that tired, droopy-ass orange scarf. And what’s up with the large mermaid tattoo on his left arm? Nice belt buckle but the dad jeans are too long and bulky, and the Maine lumber yard work boots…okay, they’re not a problem per se but there’s something “fuck you”-ish about them.

Look at DDL’s vaguely pissed-off expression. This is a man who gets up in the morning and says, “Okay, what can I scowl at?”