“We all know what a haunted house looks like: Victorian, Gothic. The Addams Family pile, the Bates residence in Psycho. Mansard roofs, looming gables, bullseye windows, porches, verandas.

“The renowned art historian Sarah Burns of Indiana University has made an exhaustive study of how this late 19th century style became ‘the prime sinister locus’ of American culture, chiefly gathered in the marvellous essay Better for ‘Haunts: Victorian Houses and the Modern Imagination.’

“Late-Victorian architecture was anathematised in the 1920s as a way of passing moral judgement on the tawdriness and excess of the Gilded Age. This was, in turn, a way of condemning the flashiness and superficial opulence of the pre-Crash 1920s.

“When artists such as Edward Hopper and Charles Burchfield painted houses as empty and sinister, they were indirectly passing judgement on the corruption of the day.” — from “It’s Coming From Inside the House,” an Architects Journal articles by Will Miles, 8.21.15.

Video taken this morning inside Mount Washington House in Hillsdale, New York.

“…this court is hell-bent on radically changing this country.” — Robert Reich.

Straight from the shoulder and no bullshit: Is there anyone in the HE community who feels strongly about seeing or not seeing Baz Luhrmann’s Elvis this weekend?

If it’s a must-see, what’s the main factor driving that notion? And if it’s a meh, why do you feel that way?

You may have heard that Elvis underperformed last night and that it may finish the weekend with less than $20 million, which may translate into a third or even (God forbid) a fourth-place showing.

I’ll tell you what I’m feeling, and that’s a pre-West Side Story vibe because (a) 40-and-younger types don’t care that much about E.P., (b) the numbers will depend on whatever ticket-buying enthusiasm may happen among GenX and more particularly boomers, and don’t forget that (c) Elvis’s core fan base (those in their tweener and teen years when he first ignited) are older boomers plus the baby-bust generation.

I really and truly hope that Elvis (which I was half-okay with after seeing it in Cannes) does better than West Side Story. I don’t want to see it tank.

The Ankler ‘s Sean McNulty senses trouble…

…that there are accomplished, seemingly intelligent film obsessives who are actually persuaded that in Alexander Payne’s Election, Matthew Broderick’s high-school teacher is the villain and Reese Witherspoon’s Tracey Flick is…what, driven and misunderstood but essentially a decent soul?

Broderick’s character is a more-or-less moral fellow with weaknesses (extra-marital lust, loathing for Tracey Flick types, not smart enough to destroy that ballot instead of toss it into a waste basket). But Flick is Richard Nixon, for God’s sake. I’ve known screwed-down, hissy-fit Tracey Flick types all my life…’nuff said.

“Determined Little Sociopath,” Posted on 9.20.17: What was it about Election, exactly, that turned so many people off? Alexander Payne‘s brilliant, perfectly shaped black comedy cost $25 million (just shy of $37 million in 2017 dollars) to make, and it only earned a lousy $14.9 million (or nearly $22 million by today’s calculator). Something in this film irritated a large swath of the public, obviously, but what in particular? The reviews couldn’t have been better, but outside of some modest action in the cities Joe and Jane Popcorn just wouldn’t go.

I’ve long suspected that on some deep-seated level Jane didn’t care for the demonizing of Reese Witherspoon‘s Tracy Flick, who always struck me as a female Richard Nixon type — resentful, craven.

The irony, of course, is that Witherspoon will probably never luck into a role as good again. It enabled her to give her very best performance. Certainly her most memorable, in part because she wasn’t “acting” — Tracy Flick is inside Witherspoon as surely as Tom Dunson and Ethan Edwards were inside John Wayne. Tracy Flick was lightning in a bottle, and that stuff doesn’t grow on trees. Criterion’s Election Bluray will pop on 12.12.17.

Presenting five fine fellows who once lived at 948 14th Street in Santa Monica. The orchestrator is the illustrious Ed Roach (far left), longtime Beach Boys photographer. Two possibilities: (1) Pic used to be in color but has faded to pink or (2) Ed shot it in black-and-white and decided to pink it up.

The Victorian home of the late Pauline Kael, located on a grand hill in Great Barrington, Massachusetts. The place is quite huge — not quite the size of Cecil B. DeMille’s Los Feliz mansion, but in that general ballpark or so it seemed — and the sloping grounds are well-groomed and shrouded with many trees, and surrounded by a black iron fence. Most critics and columnists live in modest spartan abodes. But what is life without exceptions?