Jeffrey Wells I don’t know why I’ll always remember Captain Meathead, but somehow this late-night Park City encounter (1.17.14, or almost exactly nine years ago) has taken up residence. Probably because I loved the late Lynn Shelton’s Laggies (‘14) and…I don’t know. All seemed right with the world back in ‘14, and I was very happy for Shelton that night. Happy all around. I’m very sorry…well, for a great many things.
It was the cat. It’s always been the cat. The cat had to be in Dylan’s lap and looking at the lens.
Sally Grossman passed on 5.11.21 at age 81. She led an engaged life as honcho of Bearsville Records following the 1986 death of husband Albert Grossman, but nothing she did or said after the April ‘65 release of Bringing It All Back Home could rival the iconic power of that red pants suit, lit cigarette and neutral-bordering-on-chilly expression.
Joyce Carol Oates, author of “Blonde: A Novel”, isn’t altogether wrong about Steven Spielberg’s The Fabelmans, and there’s no arguing that in terms of delivering a tough, unsparing biopic within an artful impressionistic realm, Andrew Dominik’s Blonde is a lot more probing and less inclined to turn the other cheek. But almost everyone dislikes Dominik’s film for its heartlessness, and that’s always the bottom line. Heart always wins.
…if I was able to write something? I can’t tap anything out because I’m driving and it’s dark out. Later this evening…Jeff Beck sleeps.
On 1.10.16, four lads at a Golden Globes after-party in Century City — (l. to r.) Roger Durling, Deadline’s Pete Hammond, myself, Kris Tapley. 2016 was the last semi-normal year before the woke plague began to descend.
11:18 pm: Steven Spielberg‘s The Fabelmans has won the Golden Globe award for Best Motion Picture Drama. It’s a reasonably good film, but it doesn’t radiate what I would call exceptional jazz and it doesn’t knock the ball out of the park….it really doesn’t. But congrats to all.
10:59 pm: Best Dramatic Actor TV series winner Kevin Costner (Yellowstone) can’t attend the ceremony because he’s “sheltering in place” in Santa Barbara (technically Carpinteria). Very funny, but I’m about done. It’s 11:04 pm….Jesus.
Thank God that the Golden Globe award for Best Screenplay has gone to Martin McDonagh and his Banshees of Inisherin script and not to…well, you know…thank God in heaven!
HFPA to Tomris Laffly: “Please forgive us, Tomris! Give us another chance…puhleeze?”
🎉 Congratulations on your WIN for Best Motion Picture – Non-English Language, Argentina, 1985! #GoldenGlobes pic.twitter.com/mqaFxJhqQK
— Golden Globe Awards (@goldenglobes) January 11, 2023
The underlying reason, I suspect, is that NBC felt that they needed to be symbolically demoted because of the wokester condemnation of the HFPA over their previous (but since corrected) failures in the realm of DEI and specifically Black journalist membership.
By any fair and reasonable standard the HFPA has bent over backwards to reform itself, but still the Tomris Laffly Brigade wants this long-questionable org and its once-valued awards show (at least in terms of ratings) suffocated to death.
Given how the Golden Globes used to fuel-inject award season hype and especially considering that general award-season fervor is currently withering on the vine given the near-total absence of interest (much less enthusiasm) on the part of literally everyone outside the miniscule, industry-and-media-centric award season community (exacerbated further by the NSFC’s head-scratchy celebration of Aftersun’s Charlotte Wells), doesn’t it make sense to ease up and let bygones be bygones and try to return to the mindset of pre-woke-terror Hollywood (i.e., 2016 and before)?
Here’s an excellent, hand–wringing, hair–pulling piece on this topic from Awards Daily Sasha Stone:
Sam Mendes’ Empire of Light, HE’s choice for the Best Film of ‘22, has earned a solid passing grade (75%) from Joe and Jane Popcorn on Rotten Tomatoes. This represents a significant 30-point difference from the views of RT critics, most of whom are operating under the yoke of wokester mind tyranny and therefore compelled to dismiss the curious but compelling romantic dalliance between Olivia Colman and Michael Ward’s characters.
